Free Off the Rails by Beryl Kingston

the carpet crying bitterly, and another one, slightly older but equally pale, kneeling beside her, weeping silently with tears rolling down her cheeks.
    ‘It ain’t fair,’ the little one wept. ‘Why did she have to go away, Sarah? They could have kept her. It ain’t fair.’
    ‘Try not to cry, Emma,’ the older one said. ‘You’ll make your eyes red.’
    ‘I don’t care,’ the little one said and howled again. ‘I won’t eat here. It ain’t fair!’
    Then the one called Sarah became aware that they had company and gave her sister’s arm a shake. ‘Hush, Emma,’ she said, in a commanding voice. ‘Sit up.’ And the child sat up and stopped crying.
    Jane didn’t know what to say. She’d never had to cope with any grieving children before and especially two who had just lost their mother. The little girls stood and looked at her for what seemed an uncomfortably long time.
    Then the older one spoke. ‘There’s nobody here,’ she said. ‘They’re all at the funeral.’ She was quite calm now and spoke sensibly.
    Of course, Jane thought. That’s why the house is so quiet. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said.
    ‘Why should you be sorry?’ the child asked. ‘It ain’t your fault. You didn’t tell them to go.’
    ‘No,’ Jane said, thinking what an odd conversation this was to be having with a child.
    ‘They sent her away,’ the little one told her in an aggrieved voice. ‘I don’t think that’s fair. We didn’t ask them to.’ Her lip was trembling as if she was going to cry again.
    ‘No. I’m sure you didn’t,’ Jane said.
    ‘They don’t ask us when they send people away,’ the older girl told her. ‘You know that, Emma.’
    ‘Yes,’ Emma said sadly. Then she leant forward towards Jane. ‘It was because she married that horrid man,’ she confided. ‘I didn’t like him.’
    She’s not talking about her father, surely to goodness? Jane thought.
    ‘He frightened the horses,’ Emma went on, ‘didn’t he, Sarah?’
    ‘Yes,’ Sarah confirmed. ‘It was because he was so ugly. Papa said so.’
    Jane was completely lost now. If they weren’t talking about their father and mother, then who was the lady who’d been sent away? ‘Would you like to come and see your baby brother?’ she offered. At least she’d be on safe ground there.
    ‘Not particularly,’ Sarah said. ‘Babies ain’t very interesting. I’ve seen one. They don’t talk or anything. They just lie there. I’d rather have a dog.’
    Milly had been following the conversation, turning her head from speaker to speaker and smiling at them all. Now she caught at the last word and joined in. ‘Dogga-dogga-dogga,’ she said.
    ‘Heavens!’ Sarah said. ‘Is she talking to me?’
    ‘She talks to everybody,’ Jane explained. ‘It’s her new trick.’
    ‘Um-mum-mum,’ Milly said, clapping her hands.
    ‘Heavens!’ Sarah said again.
    It’s about time I started looking after them, Jane thought. ‘Are you on your own in here?’ she asked.
    ‘Polly’s gone to get our breakfast,’ Sarah told her. ‘She’ll bring it up in a minute. Emma won’t eat it. She wants to go to the breakfast room.’
    ‘I always go to the breakfast room,’ Emma said stubbornly.
    ‘No you don’t,’ Sarah said. ‘Not now.’
    ‘I do too. Miss Timmons takes me.’
    ‘Who’s Miss Timmons?’ Jane asked her.
    ‘She takes me.’
    ‘We told you,’ Sarah said. ‘They sent her away.’
    Light shone. ‘She was your nurse.’
    The door was opening. Someone was pushing a trolley into the room. Polly had arrived with the breakfast. But before she could say anything, Emma threw herself face downwards on the carpet and began to howl again. ‘I won’t!’ she cried. ‘It’s not fair. I won’t. Oh! Oh! Oh! It’s not fair. I don’t want you! I want Miss Timmons. It’s not fair.’
    Polly’s face grew more anguished with every shriek. Milly was intensely interested. Sarah tried to pat her sister’s arm and was flung violently