Free The Diddakoi by Rumer Godden

that.’
    ‘What did I tell you?’ said Mrs Cuthbert in triumph and, when the Usher had wiped up the blob of spittle, the Chairman said, half laughingly, half sadly, ‘Gypsies undoubtedly
should stay with gypsies.’
    ‘They usually do,’ said Mr Blount. ‘This is the first case concerning one of their children that has ever come my way.’ He paused. ‘As you see, it’s
difficult.’
    ‘I like her spirit,’ said the Chairman. ‘But . . .’
    ‘It’s pitiful,’ said the magistrate.
    ‘Precisely.’ The Chairman was brisk – magistrates must not be emotional. ‘Now, to get back to business: the question is, what can we do with her? We could make a Care
Order, Mr Blount, handing her over to your authority’s care, in which case you would have to find somewhere for her to live. Any other suggestions? Yes, Doctor Harwell?’
    ‘There’s always St Agatha’s,’ but Doctor Harwell said it hesitantly. ‘They would never refuse . . .’ There was a silence.
    ‘St Agatha’s is an excellent Home,’ said the Chairman, ‘but it is big. There have to be rules . . . What do you think, Mr Blount?’
    ‘I believe she would have a hard time there . . .’
    ‘So would the nuns,’ said Mrs Cuthbert.
    ‘If we could find something more individual, sir.’ Mr Blount cast what he hoped was a quelling look at Mrs Cuthbert. As you have seen, Kizzy doesn’t take to the suggestion of
other children. I expect she finds them strange – as they find her. She has made friends with a boy, Clem Oliver, but he’s the only one.’
    ‘Admiral Twiss says in his letter she has always been solitary,’ said the Chairman. ‘Perhaps if you could find a childless couple . . .’
    Mr Blount shook his head. ‘No one seems willing, sir.’
    There was another silence; then Miss Brooke turned to the Chairman, who said, ‘You have an idea, Miss Brooke?’
    ‘I know fostering should, properly, be done by a family,’ said Miss Brooke, ‘a man and wife so that the child can have, as it were, a father and mother, but Kizzy has never
known either, so perhaps she is different . . . and she isn’t a baby, but already seven, as far as we can tell. Now that the Blounts have moved into a house of their own,’ Miss Brooke
smiled at Mr Blount, ‘I have an empty room. I could take Kizzy.’
    ‘You?’ They all stared.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘After that exhibition?’ Mrs Cuthbert was incredulous.
    ‘Particularly after that.’ There was a flush on Miss Brooke’s cheeks again. ‘I have always been interested in gypsies and have, oddly enough, several times been drawn
into having to do with them. I was a magistrate for a good many years in our home county of Berkshire . . .’
    Mrs Cuthbert sat up.
    ‘We had two gypsy cases – children not going to school. When I was a barrister—’
    ‘You were a barrister, Miss Brooke?’
    ‘Yes,’ and Miss Brooke anticipated Mrs Cuthbert by saying, ‘I retired to look after my father. Once on circuit I defended a gypsy family. I think I understand what it means to
be homeless, and a little of how to deal with driven people; one of my father’s stable lads, too, was a gypsy.’
    ‘You kept stables then?’ As Miss Brooke went back into her past, Mrs Cuthbert grew more and more agog. ‘You must have had a big house.’
    ‘We befriended him,’ Miss Brooke went on as if Mrs Cuthbert had not spoken. ‘He taught me something about his people and gave me a little personal experience. With Kizzy it
might not be a success, but I could try, though I’m afraid my cottage will seem rather narrow to her.’
    ‘A cottage has far more space than a caravan,’ said the Chairman.
    ‘Yes, but her wagon was open – she lived outside – and Amberhurst House, where she has been since, is so spacious. However, my cottage is the last in the village, on the edge
of the common; Kizzy might not feel shut in.’
    And I am not far away,’ Mrs Cuthbert chimed in. ‘I can help.’
    ‘I will only do it on