Paid Servant Read Online Free Page B

it from over there,” Roddy continued, pointing to the corner where his incomplete tower stood. “I found her table for her but she won’t let me have the brick.”
    He held up a small, red-painted doll’s table, but he was watching Natalie, evidently hoping that our presence would somehow swing the situation to his advantage. But she showed no interest in his unarguable logic; the brick had been converted into a table, and as far as she was concerned it now was a table.
    I looked up at Matron and she nodded her head to indicate that we withdraw and leave them to settle the matter as best they could. Back in her office she asked, “Not much chance of talking with him right now, is there?”
    â€œNo, but I’d like to pop in as often as I can, so that he gets accustomed to me; and meanwhile I’ll see if I can get some people I know interested.”
    â€œThat’s fine, and the sooner the better. It will soon be time for him to begin school, and it would be nice if he were away from here before then.”
    â€œThat little Natalie’s quite a person, isn’t she?” I said.
    â€œAh, yes. She’s very independent. Her mother died six months ago, and she’s here until her father can make other plans for her. He’s in the Army and comes to see her quite often. Well,” she said, rising, “nice meeting you. Come down any time you like, and good luck.”
    I was dismissed. This grand woman had work to do and wanted to get on with it. I liked her.
    â€œGoodbye Matron. You’ll be hearing from me soon, I hope.”
    That evening I prepared a list of people, friends and acquaintances, who might either themselves be interested in fostering a small boy or know of other families who would be willing and able to offer Roddy a home. A very short list really, when one pinned it down to people who had the accommodation, wanted a youngster in the house, and could afford to have him. This last was important and very often proved a stumbling block to people who otherwise would prove excellent parents. Unfortunately, those bureaucrats who determine the policies affecting Child Welfare insist that prospective foster-parents exhibit a very high degree of altruism; not only must they be willing and ready to provide the unfortunate child with a home and all the care and affection which usually flows between parent and child in times of health and sickness, but they must also be prepared to accept the major part of whatever financial burden accrues from it; the prospective foster-parent who is indiscreet enough to raise the question of money immediately becomes rather suspect, and is very likely to be treated as if her interest is primarily in some hope of gain, rather than in the child. Because of this I deliberately limited myself to people whose financial circumstances would suffer the least noticeable strain from the addition of one extra for room and board, and found myself with three possibilities.
    Â Â Â Â Â 1. Mr and Mrs Donald Ellesworth, from Barbados. Donald, a dentist, served in the R.A.F. during the war and now practises in East Finchley. His wife, Audrey, is a part-time teacher at a neighbouring Infants’ School, not for the money, she says, but merely to have something to do. Both are about forty years old, but have no children; often talked about adopting a child before they’re much older. They own their well-furnished home and each drives a car. I’d known Don and Audrey for about twelve years and they seemed to be a very likely bet.
    Â Â Â Â Â 2. Hardwick and Hannah Rosenberg. Writers. Both highly intelligent and in comfortable circumstances. They have a small child, a girl of three, and have expressed the wish to adopt another, a boy, preferably slightly older than their own child.
    Â Â Â Â Â 3. Dennis and Reena Kinsman. A young South African couple with two youngsters, boys. Comfortably off. I’d placed them