Phyllis felt her coldness. It would take a long time for her mum to warm up. It would take forever to forget.
Five
Middlemore Emigration Home, Birmingham
Far-away
Nothing is familiar,
They hang on with woe.
If they saw their chance,
Where would they go?
February 10, 1937
The train picked up speed as it pulled out of Newcastle Central Station. As the children watched Newcastle disappear, they abandoned any shred of hope for finding their way home. Restlessness and worry became their constant companions. Fear kept them speechless. The train rolled down the track, taking them further and further away from their family and everything they had ever known.
They had barely left the station, but it felt to them that they had been travelling for an eternity. Birmingham was their destination, but where was that? The four of them sat together on a bench. Sister sat behind by herself where she could keep an eye on all without having to sit with them. This was an unpleasant task for her and she would be glad when it was over.
Kenny peered out the window, watching the world go by. The drizzle had steadily increased as they travelled south and now it was raining hard. The wind splattered the raindrops on the window. He watched the droplets gather and run in little muddy streams. Seeing past the dirt and the rain was difficult, so he decided to find a better seat. “C’mon,” Kenny motioned to the others to follow.
Sister immediately reacted and told them to get back to their seats and stay there. She told them that they could not be running all over the train and if they didn’t behave she will put every one of them off at the next station and they would be lost forever. Kenny quickly scrambled back. He pushed Marjorie out of the way, reclaiming his window seat. She was about to push back when Sister’s face stopped her. The thought of standing on a strange platform and watching the train go on without her gave Marjorie such a fright that she quickly moved and gave the window seat back to Kenny.
The unfamiliar landscape sped by. Around noon, Sister passed the children some bread. The train’s rhythmic motion lulled the children, and, having eaten, they curled up on the bench and one by one, fell asleep. As Marjorie slept, she dreamt of Whitley Bay and when this train blew its whistle, she dreamt that she was hearing the train coming into their Whitley Bay Station.
“We’re almost at Birmingham New Station, wake up. We have to change here for the Selly Oak train,” Sister said as she shook each child. Marjorie jumped when Sister touched her and nearly fell off her seat. She gasped, ready to bolt, but when she opened her eyes she realized where she was. The other three woke up, cranky from their uncomfortable sleep. Audrey cried out for her mum. Joyce tried to distract her by reading the sign as they pulled into the station. “Look Audrey, it says Birmingham New Station.”
Audrey punched at Joyce and said, “I don’t care. I hate everyone. I just want my mum. I want to go home.”
Sister scolded both girls and said that good little girls did not talk like that. She looked at Audrey and told her that she could forget about going home and it would be best if she could forget about seeing her mother, as that would not happen. “The sooner you accept that, the better it will be for everyone.” Sister ignored Audrey’s wail and demanded that everyone stand up; it was time to get off the train.
The four children stumbled onto the platform, feeling overwhelmed and disoriented. This station seemed as busy as the streets of Newcastle. Sister shouted above the din for the children to follow her, proclaiming that if they got lost she would not waste her time looking for them. They quickly found the platform for the Selly Oak train and quietly climbed aboard when their train arrived. It seemed that they had barely been on the train when Sister said to get ready to get off. Their stop was the next one. They stood on the platform looking at Sister for instructions, but she turned from them and marched on, then, after a moment, stopped to see if they were following. The girls bumped into her. “Pay attention. Now, where is the boy?” She demanded.
A streak of panic went through Joyce. “Kenny!” She yelled out. “Kenny, where are you?” Looking after the younger ones and herself was proving to be a trying chore. She told Marjorie to hold Audrey’s hand and to stay put while she ran back towards the tracks. Kenny was standing there, totally fascinated by the trains, not even aware that he was lost.
“Kenny, you gave me a scare!” Joyce grabbed him and told home to stay with her. She will leave you behind, she warned, but Kenny did not seem to care. He told her that he was just watching the trains. He pointed to one and said that he bet it was going to London.
Marjorie, waiting with Audrey, didn’t like the looks of Birmingham. It was so far from Whitley Bay. She could find her way all around Whitley Bay, but in these past few days they had travelled so far and through such huge places she hardly knew which way to go. It would be impossible for the four of them to walk home now. In Newcastle, when they told the children that they were leaving for the Middlemore Emigration Home[1] in Birmingham, she had hidden some of her bread in her sleeve, but they found it and took it away. She thought she could use the bread like Hansel and Gretel and find the way back to her mum, but it would be impossible after today’s long train ride. She would need a thousand loaves of bread, maybe even a million. She had no idea that England was so big. The train had raced by town after town, field after field. It made her head dizzy.
Marjorie Arnison is shown in a photograph taken at the Middlemore Emigration Home for the Fairbridge Society Files, circa summer 1937.
University of Liverpool Archives, Special Collections Branch, Fairbridge Archives, Arnison Family Records, D296.E1.
Joyce ran back with Kenny in tow. Sister warned, “You there, hold onto the boy’s hand and don’t let go. Do you understand?” Joyce nodded as she grabbed his hand.
Marjorie took a long look at the station as they walked away. The sign said Selly Oak. It was the only way they would ever get back to Whitley Bay, but which train would they catch and where would they get the money for the tickets?
“Ow! You don’t have to squeeze so hard,” yelled Kenny. He wiggled as he tried to get free, but Joyce only held tighter. She was not taking any chances. Joyce snapped at Marjorie to grab Audrey’s hand and warned her not to let go. Marjorie decided not to argue. The forlorn little group followed as fast as their feet would allow. They walked across a little bridge and carried on up the road. The cold February rain began to wick its way up their socks. Their shoes made little squishing noises as they marched along.
They crossed a busy street and continued up Bristol Road. Sister turned around to make sure she hadn’t lost anyone. With a sigh of relief she saw all four trailing after her, so she told the children that it wouldn’t be long now as they were almost at the home.
Excitedly, Audrey let go of Marjorie’s hand and grabbed Joyce’s coat. “She said we are going home, Joyce.”
For a moment, that was what Joyce heard too, and then she remembered the nuns had said they were going to the home and she knew it was not their home. She had to tell Audrey that they were going to a different home, not home to their mum and their Whitley Bay home. Tears welled up in Audrey’s eyes and were about to come spilling out when Sister noticed. She told Audrey that she had enough of her nonsense. She looked at the group and told them all that they must learn to be good little soldiers for the King, and warned the children that “brave little soldiers do not whine and cry.” She needed to deliver the children to the home and have nothing stand in her way of catching the train and returning directly to Newcastle. She did not want to waste her time wiping their tears