The Forgotten Home Child - Softcover

Graham, Genevieve

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1668069504 ISBN 13: 9781668069509

Verlag: Simon & Schuster, 2024

Inhaltsangabe

The Home for Unwanted Girls meets Orphan Train in this unforgettable novel about a young girl caught in a scheme to rid England’s streets of destitute children, and the lengths she will go to find her way home—based on the true story of the British Home Children.

2018

At ninety-seven years old, Winnifred Ellis knows she doesn’t have much time left, and it is almost a relief to realize that once she is gone, the truth about her shameful past will die with her. But when her great-grandson Jamie, the spitting image of her dear late husband, asks about his family tree, Winnifred can’t lie any longer, even if it means breaking a promise she made so long ago...

1936

Fifteen-year-old Winny has never known a real home. After running away from an abusive stepfather, she falls in with Mary, Jack, and their ragtag group of friends roaming the streets of Liverpool. When the children are caught stealing food, Winny and Mary are left in Dr. Barnardo’s Barkingside Home for Girls, a local home for orphans and forgotten children found in the city’s slums. At Barkingside, Winny learns she will soon join other boys and girls in a faraway place called Canada, where families and better lives await them.

But Winny’s hopes are dashed when she is separated from her friends and sent to live with a family that has no use for another daughter. Instead, they have paid for an indentured servant to work on their farm. Faced with this harsh new reality, Winny clings to the belief that she will someday find her friends again.

Inspired by true events, The Forgotten Home Child is a moving and heartbreaking novel about place, belonging, and family—the one we make for ourselves and its enduring power to draw us home.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Genevieve Graham is the USA TODAY and #1 bestselling author of fourteen novels, including The Chambermaid’s Key, On Isabella Street, The Secret Keeper, The Forgotten Home Child, Letters Across the Sea, and Bluebird. She is passionate about breathing life back into history through tales of love and adventure. She lives in Alberta. Visit her at GenevieveGraham.com or on X and Instagram @GenGrahamAuthor.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter One: Winny

one WINNY

— Present Day —

My life is spilling onto the street, and I am as helpless as a child to stop it. Through the living room window I watch my treasured Ulster coat tumble into a mound on the pavement, followed by a flutter of faded grey cotton when my frock lands on top. The old woollen stockings, mended so many times, slip out and cushion the books as they fall, then come my boots.

My granddaughter, Chrissie, is staring down at the little pile with a sort of guilty curiosity, but she sobers when she glances toward the house and sees my stricken expression. She stoops and gathers my things, placing them gently back inside the little wooden trunk I have kept with me for over eighty years. As she snaps the rusted hinge closed, I curse the rotted metal for releasing a secret I have kept to myself for so long.

Moments later, Chrissie comes into the house and quietly sets the trunk on the floor next to the rest of my things.

“I’m sorry, Gran, the hinge broke.” She puts a warm hand on my shoulder, and I pray she will be able to contain the questions flickering in her eyes. “But that’s the last of it,” she says, and I exhale. “I have to go pick up Jamie from school—it’s my turn in the carpool. Will you be okay for a bit?”

She’ll only be out for a few minutes, and yet I am glad she asked. I’ve never been comfortable being alone. The silence is too loud, full of so many voices I’ve loved and lost.

I pat the arms of my chair. “I’ll be fine. I promise to sit right here and not die while you’re gone.”

Chrissie frowns slightly but grabs her keys and heads to the doorway, where she pauses and glances back at me.

“I’ll be fine,” I say again, ashamed of my snide remark. I had only been trying to lighten the mood, but it came out wrong. I’m thrown off by the scene in the street. My gaze drops to the trunk, and I wonder if I have enough balance to carry it all the way to my room and put it away before she sees it again. Out of sight, out of mind.

I had hoped the trunk would outlive me. That once I was gone, someone could dust it off, open the latches, and discover the treasures old Gran had hidden away. Without me to tell the story, no one would be able to figure it out. It would remain forgotten. Like the rest of us.

I watch Chrissie drive away and my chest tightens with gratitude. My dear granddaughter has become quite protective of me ever since she lost her mother, my daughter, Susan, two years ago. Susan and I had shared an apartment, which had suited us both beautifully. Until she’d gotten sick, the high point of our week had been playing bridge at the Seniors’ Centre or shuffling through the mall to see the lights and the people. I should have valued those moments more, but I had always assumed I would be the one going first. It didn’t turn out the way I’d hoped, but I am grateful to have had a long and enduring bond with my daughter. Not all of us can be so lucky. It has been difficult living without her, but it is getting easier. These days I see Susan less and less as a woman in pain. My memories of her now are of when she was so small she needed to hold my hand everywhere we went. So small I couldn’t resist hugging her on impulse, marvelling that she was mine. And his, of course.

Just after Susan’s seventy-first birthday, cancer stole her from me, and it was obvious to everyone that I could no longer look after myself. Every morning and every night my creaking joints and wasting muscles remind me that the sand in my glass is running low, so when I moved from the apartment to the Shady Pines Retirement Home, I resigned myself to sitting and waiting for that last grain of sand to fall. Shady Pines was not the worst part of my life, but it was not how I’d imagined it ending. Chrissie and her son, Jamie, saw through my facade and asked me if I wanted to come live with them. I jumped at the chance. The two of them are a small but good family, and I love them with all my heart. They have no idea how important it is for me to be with family. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, really.

The front door swings open, bringing a curtain of fresh summer sunshine into the kitchen along with my tall, dark, and handsome great-grandson. When Chrissie’s husband left her for another woman ten years ago, Jamie became the man of the house by elimination. Jamie is sixteen, smart, and the spitting image of his great-grandfather.

“Hey, Gran,” he says, shrugging out of his backpack. “Enjoying the new digs?”

“I am.” I smile. “Thank you.”

Chrissie bustles in behind him and makes her way to the kitchen. She had set a chicken to roast to celebrate my first night in their house. I’ve lost track of how many first nights I’ve had in my life. How many times I’ve had to start again.

Over dinner, Chrissie pries out details about Jamie’s day from him, and I listen as he talks about his math teacher, his soccer game, and the fact that one of his friends is getting a car. Jamie is a teenager with teenager things on his mind, but he is a good boy, and he loves his mother. It’s easy conversation, and it takes me back so many years. I almost feel like I’m home again.

“I have homework,” Jamie says when he’s done clearing the plates. He edges toward the door, his eyes on his phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Gran.”

“Actually,” Chrissie says quickly, “I wanted to talk about something with you and Gran.”

He winces, then glances apologetically at me. “Yeah, sure.”

“Let’s go to the living room. It’s more comfortable there. I’ll bring cookies.”

They help me shuffle to my armchair, and Chrissie sets me up with a cup of tea. She is a nurse, following in my footsteps and those of her mother, and she always seems to know what I would like before I ask for it. There’s something reassuring in that.

She sits beside Jamie, across from me. “I just thought maybe we could do this sometimes after supper. Get to know each other a bit.”

Jamie’s expression is pained, and I can’t really blame him. I’m sure he’d rather be doing just about anything other than talking to his ninety-seven-year-old great-grandmother.

“Don’t look that way,” she scolds, and I see regret in her eyes. “It’s just that now that your grandma is gone, we can’t ask her things about when she was growing up, you know? We can’t hear any more stories from her. Don’t you ever wonder where our family comes from, Jamie?”

Unease stirs in my chest. I do not want to have this conversation, but I can hear the sadness in Chrissie’s voice. She yearns to know more about her family. About her mom.

He gives a weak shrug. “I guess. But isn’t that what the internet is for?”

“Oh, my life wasn’t interesting,” I assure them. “I can tell you stories about your grandmother, but to be honest, we lived a pretty average life together.”

Chrissie gestures with her chin toward the trunk, which hasn’t been moved since she first brought it inside, and I am instantly reminded of all that it holds.

“I was wondering if you could tell us about the...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Simon & Schuster
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2024
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1668069504
• ISBN 13: 9781668069509
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 432
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: webstar; casetta@mondadori.it; ; Via Mondadori 1,; Segrate Milano; 20090; Italien