The Cast-Off Kids Read Free

eye on her. Paul is very different – he’s already making his presence felt!’
    ‘Yes, I noticed,’ agreed Mike with a grin. ‘Do you know anything about their circumstances?’
    ‘They came with their young dad – very detached. The sort that would probably be a swaggery jack-the-lad with his friends, but he didn’t want to be here. There was something
shifty about him. I don’t know whether he has a criminal record, but I wouldn’t be surprised.’
    ‘Do you think he would harm the children?’
    ‘I don’t know. Probably not, but I wouldn’t leave him alone with them.’
    I told Mike about their mother abandoning them, and how their grandma too couldn’t keep them. ‘And now their dad can’t manage them either. They’re like
cast-offs.’
    ‘Do you think he’ll come and visit them?’
    ‘He said he would when he can. But I’m not so sure.’
    ‘Poor kids. I hope he doesn’t let them down.’

2
Dalek!
    S unday was another warm day, but showery. We always tried to take all the children out somewhere together on Sundays, so after everyone had
finished their breakfast Mike asked, ‘Who wants to go and feed the ducks?’
    ‘I do,’ they all shouted out in unison.
    ‘I’ll hold the bread,’ offered four-year-old Chrissy, the eldest.
    ‘Can we have an ice cream?’ pleaded Ronnie, a few months her junior.
    ‘They don’t sell ice creams at the duck pond!’ Mike laughed.
    ‘Good job too,’ I added. ‘You can have ice cream after lunch if you’re good. Right, everyone get in a line. Let’s put your welly-boots on first, so you can jump in
the puddles, but we don’t want anyone getting their feet muddy near the edge of the pond.’
    ‘We might fall in!’ Ronnie always hoped for something exciting to happen.
    ‘I don’t like it where the grass is squishy,’ three-year-old Sheena made a face.
    ‘That’s where the ducks do their pooh.’ Ronnie giggled.
    Mike finished squeezing them into their boots while I tore up some slices of bread into paper bags, and gave them out to the older ones.
    ‘’Snot fair,’ moaned little Peter, who used to be the shy one, but was getting braver now. He glared at the others. ‘They got more than me.’ A tear started to
trickle down his chubby cheek.
    I calmed him down and off we all went down the lane. Mike went off first with the walkers and I followed a few moments later with the big pram for baby Katie and toddlers Brian and Paul. We
rounded the bend just in time to see two-year-old Peter fall headlong across the muddy grass.
    ‘Yuk,’ yelled Ronnie with delight.
    Peter sat up and wailed. Chrissy tried to help him up, but fell over him instead.
    By the time we got back home again, everyone was covered in mud. Oh what fun!
    After lunch it had stopped raining and the sun was out again, so they all ran outside to play in the garden while I rocked baby Katie to sleep in the pram. Chrissy encouraged Daisy to join in
with her and Sheena in the Wendy house, while Paul hooted and laughed as he was pulled all around the garden in a large cardboard box with a bit of rope threaded through by Ronnie. That kept both
of them happy until the box gradually fell apart and Paul landed in a puddle.
    First thing Monday morning, before the children were awake, I wrote out a quick advert to stick in the village shop’s window.
    Mother’s helper wanted part-time.
    Evenings and weekends.
    I added our phone number and tucked it into my bag for later. Right now I needed to feed and change the little ones, get the others up and dressed, then set out the
children’s breakfasts and a cooked breakfast for Mike.
    After only two nights, Daisy and Paul had settled in so well that no one would guess they were new. I was beginning to see their characters coming out now – very different from each other.
Even at two, Daisy was a dainty, thoughtful and rather serious little girl who didn’t like things to be untidy, but I could already see she had a will of her own and