Little Sparrow

Chapter Seventeen

"It looks like a simple case of exhaustion," the Doctor said. He snapped his leather bag shut and turned to face Mr and Mrs Atkinson. He looked a little young to be a Doctor, but I did not say anything and just played with a thread on my blanket without looking up.

"Exhaustion? That's it?" Mrs Atkinson asked. She thumbed the chain of her pendant as though expecting something a little more dramatic and not just a lack of sleep.

The Doctor nodded. "A good night's sleep and perhaps a few days rest is all she needs. There's no permanent damage from the bruises and they'll heal themselves in a few days. Just rest and a decent night's sleep."

"Thank you." Mr Atkinson turned to his wife. "We should inform Matron, have Lizzie stay with us for a few days."

"Yes, perhaps that will be for the best. William, will you be alright here?"

"Of course."

"We'll see you out, Doctor Ealing."

I looked down at the bed and played with the edge of my blanket as they walked away, muttering to each other. All of this because I had been struggling to sleep for a few days and it had finally caught up with me. Had this happened at the orphanage, I doubt Matron would have cared all that much. She just wants the chores to be completed. Still, I hated feeling a though I was being a burden on the Atkinsons when all they wanted was for me to spend the day with them.

Although I appreciated them looking out for me, I did not want to be a burden on them when they never asked for it. I doubt the really knew what they were getting themselves into when they decided that I was the one they wanted to adopt. They probably wanted someone who did not come with so many issues and did not faint because they did not get enough sleep. I would not be surprised if they had decided to change their minds and were on their way to tell Matron.

When the front door closed, William crossed the room and dropped down onto the end of my bed, swinging his legs up and making himself comfortable. He pressed his back against the poster of the bed and whistled a little tune to himself – it sounded like one of the Christmas songs carollers would sing, the sound travelling through the cracks in the windows at the orphanage. I looked up slightly and watched him pick at his nails before dropping them to his lap.

"If you didn't want to bake biscuits, you should have just said so. This is a tad dramatic," he said.

I could not help but laugh. "I'll remember that next time."

"You should." He paused. "You know, Mother and Father never would have suggested you staying here longer if they didn't mean it. They can be rather determined when it comes to certain things and don't give up easily. They'll keep pushing this until you turn around and say you don't want the adoption to go through. This gives them more chances to get to know you."

"More chances for them to realise what a mess I am," I mumbled.

"No one's perfect, Lizzie."

He shifts on the edge of the bed a little and I get the feeling that he might have regretted what he said. I did not blame him. William and the Atkinsons knew next to nothing about my foster family and what had really happened, I doubt Matron wanted to tell them just in case they changed their mind. I expect she thought that finding a service placement for me would be next to impossible and then in walk a couple looking to adopt me. Problem solved. She probably did not want to jeopardise that.

I had never really told anyone what happened at my foster placement, not even Charity knew the full truth, only bits and pieces. The truth was, I could never find the words to even explain it, especially not after it first happened. When the Constable asked me all these questions about it, I could barely say a word and could not repeat anything to Matron when I arrived back at the orphanage.