Free The Broken Man by Josephine Cox

and look!’ He pointed to one of the long casement windows. ‘The children are waving at you. Oh, Adam! I really think you’ll make friends here, but I’ve a feeling it won’t be too long before you’re settled into a fine, loving family.’
    Adam was not listening; nor was he looking at the children. Instead, he was thinking of his mother, of her smile and her laughter, and the way she always cuddled him, too tight, and too often; almost as though she could not let him go.
    Now, she would never cuddle him again, or laugh out loud, or wave him off when he climbed onto the school bus.
    When the inevitable tears came, he quietly wiped them away with the cuff of his sleeve.
    Phil had seen the tears, though, and wrapping his arm round the boy’s shoulders, he drew him close.
    Minutes later, as they walked through the door and into the huge, wood-panelled hallway, Phil had a feeling of dread.
    He feared for the future, and with the boy still reeling from the loss of his mother, and his heart heavy with hatred for the man who he believed had caused her death, he was at his most vulnerable.
    Phil could not help but wonder how this sad and lonely child would ever again find a sense of peace.
    He felt as though somehow he had been appointed guardian. And so, come what may, and for as long as it took, he promised himself that he would watch over Adam as though he were his own flesh and blood.
    Miss Martin seemed friendly enough, and as she waddled ahead, they were informed of occasional events that took place in the home.
    ‘We keep an orderly house, but that is not to say we don’t ever have fun. We also like to reward hard work and good behaviour. We’re privileged to have at least one summer trip to the seaside, and we always celebrate Christmas.’
    There were many rooms in the house, and it took the best part of an hour to visit each one. The great hall was very much designed in the manner of the hallway itself, with wall panels above the skirting, and tall, arched windows. At one end there was a raised pulpit.
    ‘This is where we gather for morning prayers and address the various matters of the week,’ Miss Martin said.
    As they toured the downstairs, Adam remained silent, as did Phil, though the officials did ask questions now and then, in order to gain more information for the benefit of Phil and Adam.
    At the front of the building there were classrooms and other, brighter, rooms for play. Adam and Phil had the opportunity to watch the younger children playing happily, with the staff being very caring and supportive.
    Of the other rooms, some were dedicated to early learning, while another, with rows of seats and a huge screen, was set aside for additional education and the occasional film treat.
    From one small room came the sound of music, and when they peeped inside Phil and Adam were surprised to see a boy of about Adam’s age playing the piano.
    Miss Martin was very proud. ‘I had to fight the authorities tooth and nail in order for piano lessons to be agreed,’ she told them, ‘but the piano is mine, so there was no cost to be made.’
    She gestured to the old man overseeing the playing. White-haired, and with a slightly bent back, he had his eyes closed, and was obviously intent on the boy’s playing.
    ‘That’s my uncle,’ she explained. ‘He’s a retired music teacher, and lives quite close. He kindly gives his time freely in order to encourage the talented amongst us.’ Softly, she closed the door. ‘There is more for you to see,’ and with a wide and pleasant smile, she urged them onward.
    The back of the house was given over to the kitchens, toilet facilities, and accommodation for junior staff.
    Upstairs was divided into two. The lesser area was dedicated to the senior staff. ‘We have no need to tour this side,’ Miss Martin informed them. ‘It’s merely private offices and accommodation.’
    The larger and better secured half of the upper floors was the children’s dormitories, with a