Tim pulled open the doors to the centre and led her inside. It was crowded today, every chair occupied by a pregnant woman or young mother, and the cries and laughter of children bounced off the walls as nurses moved to and fro between patients. She couldn't see Dad, but she spotted Mum in the far corner talking to Sister Julienne. She waved as Tim led her to the kitchen. Both women smiled and waved back.

Tim dropped both their coats and books by the kitchen table. "Do you want some juice?"

"Yes, please," Angela said, scooting into one of the chairs and smoothing down her dress.

Mum walked in, her heels tapping briskly on the lino. "You're late."

"I know, sorry," Tim said. He set the juice glass in front of Angela and grabbed his coat. "I've gotta go. I've got another study session for exams after cricket."

"So you'll miss dinner again, I suppose?" She sighed. "I'll keep something back for you. Don't be too late."

"I won't. Bye Mum." He dashed out of the kitchen.

"I do wish he'd cut his hair," she muttered before turning to her daughter. "So, did you have fun at school today?"

Angela nodded and set down her juice glass. "We sang in a new song in assembly and Miss Howard said I sang beautifully and I said it was because I'd been practicing with you and the choir and she said that maybe one day when I was older I could lead assembly when we sing."

Mum beamed. "That's wonderful. Well done. You'll have to sing it for me after dinner."

She bent down, picked up her daughter's bag and coat and placed them on the opposite chair. "Oh, Tim forgot his science book. If we weren't so busy – but I suppose he'll come back for it."

"Mummy, is Sister Evangelina here?"

"Yes, but she's working right now, so finish your juice and then go play with the other children until we leave." She brushed her daughter's flyaway blonde hair out of her face. "Where's your hair ribbon?"

"It fell out at playtime. Miss put it in my bag." She set down her empty juice glass. "Emily got a kitten. She said I could come over to her house and play with it. Can I?"

"We'll see. I'll talk to her mother at choir tomorrow. Now go on. And no bothering the Sisters."

Angela hopped out of the chair, left the kitchen and walked toward the play area at the other end of the room. But a pair of legs clad in grey suit pants and large black shoes stood in her way, and she looked up. "Hi Dad."

"Angela?" He crouched down so they were face to face. "How long have you been here?"

She rolled her eyes. "Ages."

He grinned at her. "You weren't going to come say hi to me?"

"I didn't see you before. And I just said hi."

He chuckled. "Where's your brother?"

"He left already. Cricket."

"Right, of course." He rose, glanced toward the empty reception table and frowned.

"Mum's in the kitchen."

"Thanks," he said, absently, his mind already elsewhere. He tickled her in the spot under her ear that always made her giggle, and then headed for the kitchen.

Just before she reached the play area, she saw the person she needed to talk to. Sister Evangelina stood by one of the cubicles with Nurse Miller. A line of children, some with their mothers, others with older brothers and sisters, waited nearby.

She looked over at the play area. Three girls were already hogging the playhouse and the toy pram with the dolls. She didn't know them, but they looked older, and she doubted they'd let her in on their game. The only child she knew in the group was Freddy Noakes, and he'd probably want to play cops and robbers again. That's all he ever wanted to play, just because his daddy was a policeman. It was so boring.

She looked over at the reception desk – it was still empty – and then at Sister Evangelina's cubicle again. The line looked shorter.

If she stood in line for an examination, she wasn't exactly "bothering the Sisters," as Mum said. She took her place at the end to wait.