London, August of 1933 (part one)
The next day after Tom’s encounter with his father, he was transferred to another of Wool orphanages, this one located in London, and more than a day away from his old home.
The building was smaller and older than the one he used to live. Maybe even poorer, he thought. He heard the Reverend Mother complaining about that one orphanage was not in church care anymore because of some national law*, and how she thought it was a bad thing.
The director was a woman called Mrs Cole, and she talked in closed doors with the revered mother of his old orphanage when they arrived. Why the Reverend Mother herself made a point to take him there, he had no idea. He suspected that was something related to the blue shirt man, but was not certain.
After, Mrs Cole complied him with a smile and went to him to a bedroom. He would have his own place, she said, as he liked to study and luckily the room original owner had been adopted some days ago. It was pretty small, with barely space to move between the door and the bed, and a small armchair to put his clothes. But it was his, after all.
“Is not nice?” The reverend mother smiled, adjusting his shirt “Having your own place to sleep and study. Not all children get this, you know”.
“I know, mother” he nodded.
“Promise me you will behave here, Tom”.
“I do” he replied, looking at her.
“Fine. You will be in good hands, child” she gave him a little smile before turning to talk to Mrs Cole and both left him alone in the bedroom.
A few time after, he heard some knocks at his door.
“Hello” a caramel blonde head appeared when the Tom opened the door.
“Hello” Tom replied, looking at the person.
It was a boy. A face full of freckles and vivid green eyes. There were freckles in all the boys skin, for what he could see. He was thin and small, but which one of them were not? It’s was not like the orphanage always had food enough to everyone, specially at the winters.
“Hello, I’m Aiden. Mrs Cole said she needed someone to show you the place” the blonde boy gave Tom a small smile.
“Hello, and did she choose you?” Tom asked. He was not exactly in the mood to roam the place, to be honest. He just wanted to read the book Sister Celine gave him before leaving.
“Hey, it’s not like that!” the boy replied, his face red. Tom found that funny “It’s just I had nothing better to do, and between showing you the place or clean the toilets, the first it’s better, you know”.
“It’s true, I think” Tom nodded.
“I don’t know if the place you where from have a lot of cleaning shores, but we do have here, and it’s a piss, you know” Tom nodded to Aiden again “So it’s better we take a long walk to run away of it from today”.
They walked through the corridors, Aiden showing him the places with some dormitories, the shared toilets, the infirmary.
Then they went the main floor where were the kitchen and refectory, aside the main room and some bureaucratic rooms Aiden said they were forbidden to enter.
In their walks, Tom could see a lot of children with buckets almost their sizes and cleaning cloths.
“The sisters used to do the most cleaning in Hampton” Tom spoke when they found the garden “We helped them with some things, but it was not like that”.
“Don’t let them know this or they will eat you alive” Aiden replied, looking at him with worry “We had to clean this when we are not at the school. At least if you are not so sick that you are dying. Maybe then they let you without chores to do”.
“Do we go to a regular school?” Tom asked, noticing they did not went to any classrooms in the building.
“Yes, there is a elementary school almost one mile away from here”.
“Fine”.
“Do you like school?” Aiden looked at him with suspicion.
“It’s better than washing the floor, don’t you think?”.
“There is a point. But it’s boring as shit”.
“I don’t think so” was the black haired boy answer.
“Anyway” Aiden shrugged “Wanna play something?”.
It was Tom’s turn to shrug.
“I’d prefer to be with my book, reading”.
“Do you know how to read?”.
“Of course” the black eyes of the boy stared Aiden with superiority “I’m almost seven”.
“Would you like to teach me, then?”.
“What? I know you for less than a day, you know”.
“Yes, but maybe if I learn to read maybe I can scape the rod this semester. Plus, I would not stay too much in your room, if I was you”.
“Why? It’s my own room, why can I not stay there?”.
“Do you know why they give it to you?”.
“Because I already know how to read and want a quiet place?”.
Aden shook his head “Nobody wants to sleep there”.
“Why?” Tom was losing his patience with the boy.
“It’s haunted. All children who lived in that room died. The last one was three weeks ago”.
*= I have found about a transitional law that transferred the orphanage’s control out of the religious institutions hands to the civil ones somewhere between the twenties and thirties when I was studying about the orphanages history in the UK, but I’m having a hard time to find it again. The moment I got the exactly law again I’ll update this note.