The Glass Children Page 8

  Billie was delighted. Aladdin had taken her to his parents’ restaurant several times, but only because he needed something from his mum or dad; she had never eaten there.

  Josef switched off the hob. ‘Let’s go,’ he said.

  Aladdin was waiting for them in the car park in front of the tower when they arrived on their bikes. His eyes were shining with excitement.

  ‘Did you tell Josef what we found out at the library today?’ he whispered as they followed Josef up the stairs to the restaurant.

  ‘No,’ Billie said.

  She was afraid that Josef would get angry, just as her mum always did when she talked about ghosts in the house.

  ‘I’ve been thinking,’ Aladdin said. ‘I believe there are at least two ghosts in your house – the girl who hanged herself, and the woman who died in the fire. Perhaps they’re kind of fighting against one another. There might be a rule that says only one ghost is allowed to live in a house.’

  Billie thought about it. That would mean that the ghosts had a problem with each other, and not with Billie and her mum. But in that case, what was the explanation for everything that had happened recently?

  ‘I think you could be right,’ she whispered to Aladdin. ‘But it definitely feels as if they want something from us – as if they’re trying to get us out of the house.’

  Aladdin looked serious. ‘I’m just wondering why,’ he said. ‘What do they want the house for?’

  The restaurant was small, with room for only a few customers. Billie knew that the kitchen was down at the bottom of the tower. She had heard Aladdin’s mother say that the hardest thing was making sure the food didn’t go cold before she got to the top of the long staircase.

  ‘Are you missing your mum?’ Josef said when they had sat down.

  Billie nodded and swallowed. She missed her mum every minute of every hour.

  ‘Me too,’ Josef said.

  They were sitting in silence when Aladdin brought the menus.

  ‘Mum and Dad said you’re to have whatever you want.’

  Billie and Josef opened their menus and began to read, while Aladdin waited by their table.

  ‘I think you should try the lamb,’ he said.

  ‘In that case, we will,’ Josef said with a laugh, closing his menu. ‘Then we can blame you if we don’t like it.’ He winked at Billie, and Aladdin disappeared.

  ‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ Josef said when they were alone. ‘About your house.’

  Billie was curious.

  ‘I was speaking to a colleague about you and your mum today, and he knew exactly which house you lived in.’

  ‘What?’ Billie was shocked. ‘Does he know someone who used to live there?’

  ‘No. But he comes from Åhus, and he told me some interesting things about the history of the house.’

  Aladdin’s mother arrived with a beer for Josef and a soft drink for Billie.

  Billie leaned across the table so that she wouldn’t miss a word that Josef said. ‘And?’ she said. ‘What did he tell you?’

  ‘Apparently your house used to be a children’s home. Did you know that?’

  Billie hesitated. Should she tell him what they had found out at the library? No, she daren’t. Not yet.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘When was that?’

  ‘A long time ago – in the 1920s, according to my colleague. 1920 to 1922, I think. The council built the house for the children.’

  ‘1920 to 1922? That’s not very long. What happened?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Josef said. ‘My colleague wasn’t sure.’

  Although she couldn’t explain why, Billie had a feeling that this business of the house having been a children’s home was important, something that might go some way towards explaining all the terrible things that had happened.

  Why had the children’s home existed for such a short time? Did it have something to do with the glass children? Billie decided that she would try to find out more the very next day. They would go back to the library and try some fresh searches.

  Aladdin’s mother appeared with two large plates. ‘Lamb,’ she said. ‘Skåne’s finest. Enjoy.’

  The food smelled absolutely delicious, and Billie tucked in with relish.

  Next summer would be different. By then she and her mum would have moved back to Kristianstad. The first step was to find out what was wrong with the house, and the next was to persuade her mum that they had to leave.

  When they had finished their meal, Aladdin’s father came over to say hello. Josef asked how long the family had been living in Sweden, and Billie took the opportunity to slip away to the loo. When she came out, she heard a voice behind her.

  ‘So you’re still in Åhus.’

  Billie turned round quickly. It was Ella, the old lady. She smiled at Billie, but then her expression grew serious.

  ‘Have you spoken to your mother yet?’ she asked.

  Billie shook her head. ‘I have to find out more before I speak to her,’ she said. ‘So that I can be sure she’ll listen to me.’

  Ella gazed at Billie. ‘That’s probably a sensible approach,’ she said. ‘Just remember that you don’t have much time. Think about what’s happened to everyone else who’s lived in that house.’

  Billie looked over at Josef. He was still talking to Aladdin’s father.

  ‘I have to go,’ she said.

  ‘Good luck,’ said Ella.

  Billie hurried back to Josef. She didn’t want to tell Ella that her mum had been taken ill and rushed to hospital in an ambulance. That something bad had already happened to them.

  Ella was right. Billie really didn’t have much time left to save herself and her mum.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Only Billie and Simona went back to the library the following day. Aladdin had a piano lesson, and wouldn’t have time to get into Kristianstad before the library closed.

  ‘Call me this evening and tell me what you’ve found out!’ he said when Billie spoke to him in the morning.

  ‘Will do,’ Billie said.

  Full of anticipation, she and Simona sat down at the same computer as last time and tried some new searches in the archive of articles, using the name ‘Sunshine House’. To their disappointment, they didn’t get as many matches as they had hoped.

  ‘Try “children’s home” and “Åhus” instead,’ Simona suggested.

  But it made no difference.

  ‘That’s funny,’ Billie said with a frown.

  They went to the information desk to ask for help in accessing the small number of articles they had found. It was the same young man who had helped them last time.

  ‘You ought to try the museum when you’ve finished here,’ he said as he searched for the right microfilm. ‘They’re running an exhibition at the moment about childcare in Skåne during the twentieth century. They might know something about the children’s home you’re interested in.’

  The museum? Simona and Billie looked at one another and nodded. Good idea. Billie glanced at her watch, hoping they would have time to get everything done before Josef came to pick her up. They also had to call and see Mum at the hospital on the way home.

  Billie was very pleased to discover that even though there weren’t many articles, she was able to learn a great deal from them. The first one was about the opening of the children’s home.

  3 October 1920

  Herr Green, the master builder who was responsible for the construction of the children’s home, attended a lunch held at the residence of the county governor. Herr Persson, the chairman of the council, thanked herr Green for his work. The children’s home is in the Täppet district of Åhus, and the aim is to give orphaned children a secure place in which to live. The home is expected to have room for at least eight children, and has been named Sunshine House.

  ‘Eight children,’ Simona said, her eyes widening as she read the article. ‘Can you really fit that many people in your house?’

  ‘They must have slept in
bunk beds, with several children in each room,’ said Billie, who had been thinking exactly the same thing. ‘The staff might have slept in the spare room next to the kitchen.’

  ‘Even so, it must have been a bit of a squash,’ Simona said. ‘I mean, there’s loads of us in my family, but we’ve all got our own room.’

  Billie didn’t know anyone who lived in a house as big as Simona’s. Her parents had bought and renovated an old farmhouse so they’d have enough space for all their children.

  The next article provided more information about the children’s home, giving details about how big it was and what kind of children would be living there. The council wanted disabled children to be given priority.

  They moved on to the final article on their list.

  3 August 1922

  Today the council decided to close the Sunshine House children’s home in Åhus after the extremely tragic events reported in this newspaper last week. The governing body will decide what to do with the house later this autumn.

  Both Billie and Simona read the article over and over again. After the extremely tragic events . . . What events? Why hadn’t they found an article about whatever had happened?

  Billie could feel her heart pounding harder and harder. They were close now, she could feel it. Soon she would know what secrets the house was brooding on. Soon, soon, soon.

  She leaped up from her chair and tugged at Simona’s arm. ‘Come on!’ she said. ‘Let’s go to the museum!’

  The museum in Kristianstad was on the main square. Billie had been there with her school in the past, but never under her own steam.

  ‘I hate museums,’ Simona said as they walked in.

  Billie quite liked them sometimes, but she didn’t say so. She was glad that Simona had come along even though she thought it was boring.

  But where should they start?

  ‘Here!’ Simona said, pointing to a sign.

  NEW EXHIBITION:

  CHILDCARE IN KRISTIANSTAD DURING

  THE 20TH CENTURY

  Billie looked at her watch. It was four o’clock. Josef was picking her up at five outside the library so that they could go to the hospital. She had to be there in time.

  They quickly headed for the exhibition room, and Billie gasped. So many pictures and artefacts. There were lots and lots of small models of houses and other buildings.

  ‘Help,’ Simona sighed. ‘This is going to take for ever.’

  She was absolutely right. And what were they actually looking for?

  ‘Maybe we can ask her for help?’ Billie said, pointing to a young girl who was walking around the room.

  They hurried over to her.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Simona said. ‘Do you work here?’

  ‘Yes,’ said the girl. ‘How can I help?’

  She seemed pleased to see them. There were hardly any other visitors at the moment.

  ‘We were wondering if you knew anything about a children’s home called Sunshine House? It was in Åhus in the 1920s,’ Billie said.

  The girl’s expression grew serious. ‘Indeed I do,’ she said. ‘What was it you wanted to know?’

  Everything, Billie thought. ‘My friend and I have to write something for school about how orphaned children were looked after long ago,’ she said. ‘And somebody mentioned Sunshine House.’

  ‘Billie’s only just moved to Åhus,’ Simona added. ‘So we thought it would be interesting to write about a children’s home that used to be there.’

  Billie looked at the girl’s badge; her name was Amanda.

  ‘I understand,’ she said. ‘Unfortunately Sunshine House isn’t included in this exhibition, but I actually wrote an essay about that particular children’s home when I was at university. It’s a terrible story, but then I’m sure you know that already.’

  Billie and Simona exchanged a glance.

  ‘Mmm,’ said Billie. ‘But we’d really like to find out exactly what happened.’

  ‘In that case I think we should go and sit on the sofa over there, and I’ll tell you all about it,’ Amanda said.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Perhaps Billie should have realized that her house was sitting on a very dark secret. That she was about to hear a truly dreadful story. But when Amanda started to tell them about Sunshine House, Billie was lost for words. Even Simona, who loved to talk, was struck dumb.

  ‘The children’s home was indeed called Sunshine House, just as you said,’ Amanda began. ‘But no one ever referred to it as anything but the Glass House. Did you know that?’

  Billie shook her head. ‘Why did they call it the Glass House?’ she said, and realized that she was whispering.

  ‘Because five of the eight children who lived there were glass children.’

  Glass children? At last they were going to find out!

  ‘Glass children was the name given to those born with severe brittle bone disease,’ Amanda explained. ‘It is still regarded as a serious illness, but in those days it wasn’t possible to do very much for children with that particular disability. They needed constant supervision to stop them from falling and hurting themselves. Do you know what brittle bone disease is?’

  ‘I think so,’ Simona said. ‘It means you break your arms and legs more easily than other people.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Amanda said. ‘There are various kinds of brittle bone disease, and not all of them are equally severe. But sometimes it’s very bad, and it can even mean that a person doesn’t grow properly. The children who lived in the Glass House, or Sunshine House, all had different major problems, but a number of them were seriously ill.’

  Billie tried to imagine what it would be like to have that kind of illness, knowing that you could break your arms or legs if you just tripped over. So awful.

  Glass children.

  It was a good description of children who suffered from brittle bone disease.

  ‘As you know, there were eight children, and they were looked after by two women. One was in charge of the home, and the other was a young children’s nurse called Majken.’

  Amanda fell silent, and Billie thought she wasn’t going to say any more. But she had just paused for a moment, and went on:

  ‘In practice Majken was the one who actually took care of the children, and as you can imagine it was a difficult job for just one person, particularly in view of the fact that several of the children were ill. The summer of 1922 was a very bad summer, with lots of rain. But in August the weather improved, and it was hot and sunny. One day when Majken was alone with all the children, she decided to take them down to the beach. Those who were healthy helped out by pulling the sick children along in little carts, and in that way Majken managed to get all the children down to the sea.’

  It was hard to imagine what it must have looked like, but Billie did her best. Sparrisvägen would have been no more than a dirt track back then, and the dust would have whirled up around the carts. And it must have been hard work too, even if it wasn’t very far to the sea.

  ‘They left the home at ten o’clock in the morning,’ Amanda continued. ‘They settled down on the beach known as Kantarellen today. Don’t ask me how she managed to control the glass children. Perhaps she made sure they stayed sitting on blankets under a parasol. The healthy children were allowed to run around, playing and paddling in the sea.’

  Just as Billie herself had done during the summer. Once again she pictured Majken and the eight children.

  ‘The beach was different in those days,’ Amanda said. ‘The sandy area was wider, and the sea wasn’t as shallow as it is now, especially not when it was windy and the water was choppy. And the day Majken took the children down to the sea all by herself, it was very windy indeed.’

  Suddenly Billie felt a pain in her stomach. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear any more about Majken and the glass children, but Amanda carried on with her story.

  ‘There weren’t many other people on the beach, but several witnesses saw what happened. The wind must have grown stron
ger, because the waves got bigger and bigger, and suddenly there was the sound of screaming from the sea. Without Majken noticing, two of the children with brittle bone disease had gone into the water and been knocked off their feet by the waves. Majken ran straight in, but the current dragged the children further and further out, and she had to struggle to make any progress. When she did reach them, it was already too late. They had been under the water for too long, and they had both drowned.’

  ‘How awful,’ Simona whispered.

  ‘Indeed it was,’ Amanda said. ‘Majken pulled them ashore, and of course there was a police investigation.’

  ‘But why?’ Billie asked.

  ‘To find out whether Majken had failed in her duty of care, as it was called. They reached the conclusion that she should never have gone to the beach on her own with so many children, but they also stated that she shouldn’t have been left in charge by herself in the first place. Therefore she was not punished, and because the children were so fond of her, she was allowed to remain at the home as a children’s nurse.’

  The tears came from nowhere, and Billie blinked several times to get rid of them. If Amanda noticed that she was about to cry, she would stop talking.

  ‘What happened?’ Simona said.

  Amanda glanced at Billie. ‘I’m not sure you can cope with any more.’

  ‘Of course we can!’ Billie and Simona said in unison.

  ‘Where was I?’ Amanda said. ‘Oh yes, Majken escaped any kind of punishment. And she returned to the home as a nurse, even though she must have been feeling absolutely terrible about what had happened. The council started to wonder whether it had been such a good idea to set up the children’s home in the first place, and there was a debate in the local paper about the best way to take care of orphaned children. But only a week later, something happened that changed everything.’

  Billie was holding her breath.

  ‘Majken just couldn’t live with the guilt she felt over the two children who had drowned. One night she got out of bed, went into the living room at the home and unhooked the ceiling light. And then . . .’