C8 An Wrinkled Old Lady

“If it were poisonous, something should happen to me so far as she keeps beating me pretty often ...”

Elizabeth laughed when she saw her friend’s fearful look.

“Clark told me this. I found it interesting and I wanted to share it with you. You almost believed me,” the girl smiled working hard to sweep the floor.

“That’s not true.”

The girls giggled together, enjoying each other as if they were not two orphaned children, but two happy sisters.

“Miss Blackwood is coming!” yelled a small boy, as thin as a stick.

Suddenly, the corridors of the orphanage were filled with children, who would become like little worker bees when the queen bee came to visit.

Some of the children wiped the floor with some damp cloth where Dorothy and Elizabeth just swept the area. Other children made their beds again – they do it several times a day to prevent being reprimanded for not doing anything and others organized things that were already organized, but in a more orderly manner this time.

The two girls continued to sweep the floor in the bedroom where they just entered so enthusiastically that when Miss Blackwood came to them, even she smiled at the image she saw.

Miss Blackood was a weak, wrinkled old lady, with white hair in a bun. Her face looked dark not because of the age but because she was always frowning. The old lady used mostly one leg, limping. Watching her better one could recognize that stub nose, full of warts.

The little smile disappeared instantly.

The two girls also quit smiling. They felt it was too strange to see Miss Blackwood smiling like this. A smile that old hag would put on her face only at a kid’s death. Yet, something almost as serious was about to happen.

“Dorothy Miller, Mr. Harp is waiting for you. Looks like you're leaving us today ...”

Mrs. Blackwood smiled again, but she hid something for sure. The hideous old lady was satisfied and did not try to hide that feeling. She was extremely happy to finally separate Dorothy and Elizabeth. The old woman was countless times disturbed by the fact that the two were together everywhere, as if this seemed to be against the natural.

“But ... Beth,” Dorothy was trying to say.

Miss Blackwood, though, grabbed Dorothy’s arm almost dislocating it, pulled the girl close to her, dragging her to Mr. Harp’s office, the orphanage director.

In vain did Dorothy cry and resist, Miss Blackwood would not let her go. She watched Elizabeth Catherine Edwards crying for her best friend and looking helpless, an image that made the old woman smile even happier.

“Little lazy beasts! Clean it up!” the witch yelled at the children.

And those little kids went on doing what they did every day, working for the slight advantage of sleeping under a roof, in small, cramped little rooms, smelling of wet and mouldy wood, which was sometimes even colder than outside.

Elizabeth left the room and ran to the bedroom where her old, shabby bed was. She jumped into it and kept crying for her sister Dorothy, the only one who took care of her in the years spent at the orphanage ... until this day. The day that became almost as sad as the one when her parents died ...

This day was also sorrowful because a close and wonderful friendship faded.

Even if the two girls swore to remain friends no matter what happened, it was almost impossible to keep a friendship when the other one completely disappeared from your life, unaware where and with whom she left.

Elizabeth Catherine Edwards knew this ... and couldn't stop crying for this reason…

“Take care of her,” Miss Blackwood tried to show exaggerated care for Dorothy. “We will miss her...”

But Mr. Gangsley, yes, that Mr. Gangsley from Scotland Yard, just a few years older, felt the charade and raised his eyebrow slightly.

The woman, whom anyone could feel at first sight as sly as a fox, maybe even worse, even shed a few tears.

“Thank you,” Mr. Gangsley shook her hand, though. “Thank you very much. Even if I can't offer everything to Beth, I'll do my best to offer her what she needs. A quiet home and a life as decent as ... possible. For so long I tried to find this little orphan and offer her what I set myself to do ... what I promised myself and her when I let her go to this orphanage.”

The woman who only two moments ago cried with fat crocodile tears, smiled softly:

“I'm sure you will offer her a much better life than here. I'm sure it will be better for her. Although we will miss her a lot.”

The modestly dressed, but clean, gentleman greeted Miss Blackwood with a smile and marched to the carriage where Dorothy Miller was helped by the coachman to get on. The little girl was now in the carriage crying heartbreakingly - she lost a sister for some strangers.

“Mr. Wangsley!” Miss Blackwood yelled at the officer, just before he got on the old carriage.

“Gangsley ... Gangsley Taylor.”

“Mr. Gangsley, you know we used to call her Dorothy. There are other girls named Elizabeth. For ... not our Beth ... you know her, her safety. In case who killed her parents ...”

“Of course,” said Officer Gangsley. “Of course…”

“I wish you a happy life. I also wish her a happy life.”

Mr. Gangsley said nothing to Miss Blackwood, just got on the carriage.

“Let's go!” he yelled at the coachman, who almost fell asleep on his seat in the shabby old carriage.

The carriage began to move creaking all over, as if it started on its last road.

After a few moments, Gangsley continued:

“What a sly fox ...”

Still, as he saw Dorothy didn’t cry and looked at him, he apologized as a gentleman would do:

“I apologize for speaking like that ... Please excuse me.”

He looked calmly and softly at the girl.

“My dear Elizabeth ...”

“Dorothy,” the girl interrupted him.

Gangsley cleaned his throat.

“My dear, Dorothy. I will be your father from now on. And your future mother can’t wait to meet you. She’ll definitely be happy to see you. She’s a very generous and gentle woman ...”

The girl was cool as a cucumber, but she stopped crying. She knew it would be better where she went without Miss Blackwood and she’d have her parents. However… she’d painfully miss her friend, Beth.

“I want to tell you I took some things from your parents a few years ago at your home. When I found you ...”

Dorothy couldn't say anything. She just thought ... the fact that this neatly dressed gentleman knew her past made her dream. Finally, someone knew something about her and her family. Maybe even ... who knows ... maybe that gentleman was someone in the family. Even a farther uncle would be fine. Who knows? Maybe if she tells him about Beth, she'll take her home too. It may take a few weeks or months, but even so, if she her Beth could be together again, it was worth waiting.

“I hope Elizabeth will resist,” the girl tried to back up herself.

“Did you say something?” her new father asked.

“Nope.”

Dorothy gave up the idea of being sad. She even smiled at Mr. Gangsley.

When he saw the smile, the officer couldn’t help rejoicing. Finally, he could see a sign of acceptance. He was not very used to children. His wife and he were not blessed with their own kids but he knew that smile was a good sign.

What he didn't know was that he was lied to shamelessly by Miss Blackwood. The girl he took out of the orphanage to bring her up wasn't that little girl who lost her parents more than 7 years ago. This girl was Dorothy Miller, not Elizabeth Catherine Edwards.