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BEFORE

April 1976

Sally

Sunshine House Orphanage, Hammersmith, London

Sally had been waiting for this day to arrive for years. In fact, she’d thought about it almost every day, at least once, since her thirteenth birthday. Over the past five years, it felt as if time had moved at half speed. Especially since Elsie had left. But, as the days neared towards her eighteenth birthday, to her surprise everything had moved too fast for her liking.

There were increased visits with her case worker, Mrs Burton, to discuss the next steps. There were details of a flat for Sally in Battersea. Sister Jones said several other ex-residents of the orphanage had moved there.

Sister Jones had taken Sally out for lunch the previous week as a special treat.

‘What do you want to do when you leave here?’ Sister Jones asked as she buttered a fruit scone.

Sally shrugged, unsure how to answer.

‘Yes, you do know. Don’t think I haven’t seen that doll’s head you are always working on. And I’ve seen you give the girls makeovers in the common room when Housemother isn’t on duty.’

Sally’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘You know about my Super Girl’s World?’

‘Of course. I know everything.’ Sister Jones pointed to the side of her nose and winked. ‘I thought it best not to tell Housemother, though.’

Sally felt a rush of warmth for Sister Jones.

‘You have to get a job, I know, but who says that job can’t be one in a hair salon? I have faith in you, Sally. You can do anything you want if you set your mind to it.’

When Sister Jones put it like that, Sally believed she could reach for the stars.

She’d been given a small allowance to help her, until she found a job. Now, Sally sat on the edge of her bed and looked at her small grey suitcase, which lay open beside her. Inside, folded neatly, was everything she owned. Two midi skirts, one grey, one navy, both hideous. Two shirts, both plain white with oversized collars. A cream peasant blouse with a pair of green bell-bottom trousers, that she liked. And a bright red cowl-neck jumper that she could just about bear. Seven pairs of knickers, one spare bra, stockings, a slip and two pairs of socks. And a pair of sensible court shoes, in black.

Her stomach flipped, and she felt a wave of nausea hit her as she closed the case with two clicks, and stood up. Her legs felt like a wobbling plate of jelly, and she could not move. Why did she falter when she was minutes away from saying goodbye to it all? She’d longed for the independence that this milestone birthday would bring. But, now that it was almost upon her, her body trembled in fear.

Sally looked around the bedroom. Would she miss it? This morning she was sure she’d happily walk away from here without a backward glance. But now?

Her mind went back to Elsie again. At first, Elsie had done as she’d promised. A new letter arrived every week, written in Elsie’s large round script. She’d shared how she was looking for work and eating cereal for dinner. How she was scouring the markets for trinkets to brighten up her flat. But the letters had dwindled to once every few weeks, until they eventually stopped. Sally continued to write to Elsie every week until one day, about six months after she’d left, the letters came back with ‘Return to sender’ printed on them.

Elsie had left and moved on. Everyone did that in the end.

Sighing, Sally stood up and manoeuvred herself to see her reflection in the small mirror on the dressing table. Did she look okay? She’d been planning what to wear today for months. She’d lost hours trying on different outfits from her small selection of clothes that she’d been given in preparation for her life outside the orphanage. In the end, she opted for her favourite blue denim jeans, which had a white embroidered flower on the wide bell bottoms, matched with her favourite tie-dyed orange-and-white blouse.

Sally touched her bobbed hair and made a face at herself in the mirror. She vowed not to cut her hair again until it fell into long waves down her back, like Lynda Carter’s did. She twirled in a perfect Wonder Woman circle. She’d been practising.

A voice called up from downstairs for her. ‘Mrs Burton is here!’

To her surprise, a shiver of excitement ran down Sally’s spine. Maybe she was ready after all. She walked back to her bed and, with one last check that she’d not forgotten anything, she made her way downstairs.

Sister Jones, Housemother, Mrs Burton and Sally’s friends were gathered at the end of the dark staircase, watching her silently as she walked down. Sally held her chin high, swishing hips as she moved. She saw Sister Jones smile and Housemother raised an eyebrow in disapproval. But Sally winked back at her, and in return she got a wry grin. Years of reprimands for being too sassy were about to end. Would she miss them? Maybe, a little.

‘You look like you are ready to face the world head-on,’ Mrs Burton said warmly as she grabbed Sally’s suitcase from her. Sally liked her. Mrs Burton seemed to genuinely want to help the girls under her care. If hairdressing didn’t work out, then one day Sally could work in this field too, helping young girls like herself who found themselves in care. That was a nice thought.

Sister Jones moved towards Sally and placed her hands lightly on her shoulders. ‘This is a landmark day for you. I know you are desperate to grow up and experience all that eighteen offers. But please don’t forget that you don’t have to do everything all at once. Don’t be in such a rush to leave behind your childhood, dear. Be the good girl that I know you truly are. And remember what I said last week. Go chase those dreams of yours.’

Sister Jones’s words didn’t feel like an unwanted lecture. She heard the sincerity behind them, and Sally felt an unfamiliar lump in her throat. But she pushed it down, because she no longer allowed herself to shed a tear about her lot in life. The last tears she’d cried were when Elsie had left. Sally had learned first-hand that it got you nowhere, feeling sorry for yourself.

‘Thank you for all you’ve done for me,’ Sally managed to say.

‘It wasn’t all bad, then?’ Sister Jones asked.

‘No. It was a lot of good,’ Sally replied as a rush of memories came back to her.

Hot-chocolate Saturdays, watching TV with all the girls, curled up on the worn but comfy sofas in the common room. Jigsaw puzzles so big that they took up the entire dining-room table, but that sense of achievement when, together, they all managed to complete it. Watching Wonder Woman . Singing and dancing to the Rolling Stones, Cilla Black, Cliff Richard and the Bee Gees, David Bowie and – Sally’s favourite – Carly Simon on Top of the Pops.

‘You’ve all been my family,’ Sally said tremulously, looking around at her friends. ‘And I’ll never forget you. Come find me when your get-out-of-jail card arrives . . .’ She smiled as she said this part, so Sister Jones didn’t think she was having a go at her or the home.

Sister Jones.

The kind-hearted and caring nun who had been like a mother to her, reached out and touched Sally’s arm gently. ‘You are always welcome if you want to come back to visit. And if you need me, if you find yourself in a bother, you call, okay?’

Sally nodded her thanks, but deep down she knew that she would never return. She knew that, like every other girl who had left before her, she was embarking on a new journey, a new life. There was a rush of hugs from her friends.

‘Hush now. We’ll all see each other again one day soon.’ Sally promised through her tears, which now fell, despite her heroic efforts to quell them.

Sister Jones put a comforting arm round Sally, and with one last wave she knew it was time to leave. Sally climbed into the front seat of Mrs Burton’s chocolate-brown Austin Allegro, the car that would take her away from the only real home she had ever known.

As she drove away, with the cries of well-wishes from her friends echoing behind her, Sally couldn’t help but feel the weight of the unknown, and the beginning of a new, uncertain chapter of her life.