Rose

Chapter 4

“Yes Tiffany, that sounds absolutely amazing!”

 I was talking on the land-line telephone, since my chores had clearly not earned a mobile phone yet. It was the half-term holidays and the ‘perfect opportunity for further project research to ensure maximum output’ in the carefully chosen words of Miss Smyth, head of my year. But she was right, because I was going to research, well, myself this half-term. I was going to go to St. Clarendon’s. I’d been listening – well not actually listening – to Tiffany rant on about another holiday she’s going on, Spain or something?

 I managed to end the phone call with an abrupt ‘got to go’ in fear of racking up the phone bill and gaining yet another punishment.

            I was lying on the living room sofa, and ran my hands along the surface of one of the numerous pillows strewn across the seats. I was prepared to venture out to St. Clarendon’s and at least find out something decent enough to include in the ‘Who Am I’ project. Maybe the time I was left at their doorstep or what I used to be like or anything that’s at least worth more than my initial attempt.

 I had cleared the idea with Dad: Charlie would drive me there and once I’m done, take me home, simple enough. There was nothing much really to prepare, I had no phone so that was one less burden off the list, some money even though I wouldn’t need it and some proof of identification, just to make sure they know who I am. I left the house with a small leather purse strung loosely around one shoulder and Charlie by my side.

We entered the air-freshener infused car and I laid my head back against the headrest. Charlie asked once more for the orphanage address.                        

“St. Clarendon’s, 26 Cherrydown Road, Redway,” I recited from the somewhat abused scrap of paper in my hand. As I read it, Charlie punched the details into his Satellite Navigation System and stared at disbelief at the screen that popped up afterwards.

“Redway?” he confirmed. I nodded, slightly curious as to what was wrong “Redway’s a little more than two hours away!” My eyes widened briefly then gradually closed as I tucked my legs into my body and hugged my knees,

“Better get going then,” I said with a childish smirk.                                      

In precisely two hours and twenty-three minutes, Charlie’s car screeched to a halt in a road in front of a hard stone structure. The more I looked at it, the less I saw it to be just another building. In fact, the more I looked at it, the more I identified the little details in the architecture: the way the number twenty-six beside the rich brown mahogany door curled round almost regally at the edges.

 The subtle rainbow of potted flowers at the windowsills of the several gleaming double-glazed glass windows. The way a hundred gentle tones of grey swirled into the stone exterior and how the wide steps before the door were protected by two tall stone slabs on either side, shielding them somehow.

 Suddenly it didn’t look so much like a firm building, it looked quaint even. All of these minutiae addressed my eyes as I clicked open the car door, not before briefly informing Charlie to return in a couple of hours. I turned my back to the vehicle and taking a few uneasy steps to my hazy past.

 ‘Are you really sure about this?’ I asked myself ‘Who knows what can happen? You could…’ I pushed aside my nagging conscience and continued up the stairs and to the door, complete with a brass knocker. I looked at the ancient-looking knocker; a lion’s face etched into the metal, baring its teeth and presenting me with a thick solid loop. Rat-a-tat-tat. No answer. Rat-a-tat-tat. Still no answer. Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat…