Dickie awoke the next morning to the sound of water coming from the bath. She's already up then. I don't think she slept, he thought to himself. Knowing his wife, Isobel was running a bath for herself. She treasured a nice soak in the tub to clear her mind. Dickie, however, thought that it would be a rather quick one; she would want to be out looking as soon as she emerged.
Wordlessly, he got dressed. He wore his typical brown pants and jacket with a white button-down, his everyday uniform really. He decided to let her have the bath to herself this morning. He would not barge in to ready himself. He would wait. Dickie thought she may need the space, may need the room to breathe. At the very least, he assumed that the clear water would wake her up, give her some energy for the day ahead of them.
Dickie crept down the stairs and into the kitchen. He fixed himself a cup of tea and then stared out the window at the white blanket of snow that had coated the ground. It was really rather beautiful, the way the frost kissed the leaves of their holly bushes. He knew it was cold, too frigid for a child to stay outside for very long, and he worried. Where could that little one possibly be?
He figured that Catie must be terribly upset to have run away. She must think of us as two old fuddy-duddies, certainly not a couple she wants to be near. Dickie brought a hand to his chin, the other holding his tea cup. I have never had much luck with children, have I? But, he wrestled with his emotions, I thought I was having some good fortune with Catie. After all, she warmed up to me, even before Isobel. That had to count for something, didn't it?
He sat down at the table, cupping his hands around the mug. He took in the warmth, hoping he could find some form of solace. A good, strong cup of tea is supposed to cure all ails. Well, get to work then, he commanded his beverage.
He tried to put himself in the mind of a child. Where would I go if my parents were gone? If I was scared and angry? If I had lost everything? He felt he could never truly understand what it meant to be a six-year-old without her parents. He was so terribly sorry that it happened to Catie, what trauma she must be going through, what grief she must feel.
Dickie doubted that most children would have the emotional maturity to process death, and he wondered if her fleeing was an attempt at avoidance. Catie is so very intelligent though – it's not grief she's evading; it's us – Isobel and myself. We are not her parents, and she hates us for it. Perhaps, she wishes it was us and not them who were gone. Dickie knew what he thought was wrong, but he could not help his feelings.
And then there's my poor wife. My Isobel, my darling girl. How could I let this happen to her? Why did I listen to her? Why did I ever agree to this adoption? Look what has happened. He raked a hand through his hair nervously. My wife is hurting, and there is nothing I can do to help her, to say to her, to change it all. I love her so very much.
Then, a bolt from the blue struck. It finally dawned on him – where Catie might go, where she could have fled. Her home in York? Their grave? Perhaps, even to Ireland? Dickie was not sure which location, but they could all be reached by one thing. He snapped his fingers when the spot hit him. The train station – she must be there! Catie's a clever little one after all.
Dickie downed the rest of his tea. He heard Isobel on the stairs. He could not believe that they did not check the train station yesterday. What fools we had been! Not thinking with a clear head, he remembered. But…he considered for just a moment…what will I do when I find her there. She may very well not come with me. It will all be rather difficult, but I gather I will figure it out when I find her.
Isobel entered the kitchen. She was dressed in a plain long gray skirt and a simple button-down blue shirt. She wore a white sweater. She had pinned her hair up rather severely; her cheekbones prominent.
"Hello Dickie," she murmured. "Are you ready to go?" Isobel looked heartsick. The bags under her eyes betrayed the fact that she had not slept. She hugged herself, her hands rubbing up and down her forearms. "I'm so worried about her," she whispered.
Dickie crossed over to her and took her in his arms. His chin rested on her head. "Darling, I think I know where Catie is," he breathed.
"You do?" She pulled away for a second, searching her husband's eyes.
"I do," he smiled, trying to be strong for the two of them. He wanted her to receive his comfort. "Do me a favor and stay here." Isobel shot him a look. "Now, none of that, dear wife" he admonished her sweetly. "Stay here. Inspector Rollins may call with a lead, or he may have already found her. Someone needs to be near the phone." Dickie reasoned with his wife.
"All right," she relented. "I'll stay." She kissed his cheek. "So, where do you think she has fled?"
"I guess that she's gone to the train station. To York, to Ireland. I'm not quite sure where. She may already be on one." Dickie shrugged his shoulders. He kissed Isobel's head and then went to the front door. He grabbed his heavy coat off the rack and pulled it on. "Don't get your hopes up too high, dear," he warned her. "It's only a guess," he said as he exited the door and headed to their car. He would drive himself to the station.
"But a very good one," Isobel whispered when her husband left the room.
She went to their upstairs office and sat by the phone. Please Catie, let Dickie find you. Don't you trust my husband? If you do not care for me at all, then at least, have a little faith in Dickie. It's my fault you left anyways. I was the one who pushed you, Catie. I forced you too, Dickie. And I'm sorry for it. Sometimes I do not know when to quit when I'm ahead. But…Isobel considered the thought, the word, the expression…I love you. I wouldn't hurt you, not for all the world. She felt tears welling up in her eyes. She choked back another sob. Hoping to distract herself, Isobel opened the desk drawer and took out a sheet of paper and a pencil.
She decided to practice her drawing. She began to trace the outline of a bird, the first thing Catie had drawn for her. Isobel's hand had steadied with the practice and soon she was engrossed in her art.
Although she could occupy her hands, she could not quiet her mind. She waited for that phone to ring.
And waited. And waited.
…
Catie awoke the next morning to the sound of a bustling train station. People shuffled in and out of the ticket center, hardly noticing the six-year-old girl snuggled up on the bench. Even if they did, no one woke her or questioned why she was by herself. Perhaps, they thought she was travelling solo. Maybe her mother and father dropped her there to catch a train to see relatives or maybe she was coming home from a trip visiting her grandparents. To those who did notice, either story seemed plausible, and they left her alone - too busy and consumed in their own comings and goings to get involved. Certainly, Catie felt she was not worth the trouble.
She stood up, stretched, and surveyed her surroundings. I want to go to Ireland, but I don't know how to get there. I wonder if I could find a sign. Or maybe if I just get on a train, it would take me there eventually? Do trains go to Ireland? Which one do I get on?
Catie looked around for a sign, anything really to tell her where the trains went. She went over to a ticket booth, but she was too short to read any of the information inside one of the stands. The ticket counter was made for adults, not children. Catie stood on her tippy toes and still no luck. She huffed in frustration, crossing her arms.
Why is everything made for adults? Fine then. If I cannot read anything…and I definitely won't ask anyone for help…I'll just board a train. Pick one. Maybe it doesn't matter which one I pick. Do they all stop at the same place? I'm not quite sure.
Catie had only been on the one train in her entire life – the one that had taken her to Downton. She was not quite sure how this whole travelling business worked.
She spied a train pulling into the station. Porters opened the doors of the first-class cabins, assisting passengers off. Catie walked quickly to one of the cabins, hoping she could slip onboard unnoticed.
It was quite to Catie's surprise when she chose the cabin that the Dowager Countess of Grantham had been exiting. She came face-to-face with the older woman she had met at Christmas.
The Dowager eyed the little girl who had bumped into her. Catie gulped, clearly petrified that she had been caught.
"I remember you," Lady Violet said as she descended the steps off the train, motioning her maid to help, or rather, gently grab the little one before she had the chance to take off. "Catie, where might you be headed? I just returned from London myself. I visited my daughter Rosamund."
The Dowager made her way over to a bench, motioning for the little girl to sit beside her. "Are Cousin Isobel and Dickie here with you, my dear?"
Oh no, Catie bit her bottom lip, there it goes. I've missed it. She stopped me. Catie watched helplessly as the train whistled and then pulled out of the station. She returned her attention to the Dowager. Why did you have to be on that train? She complained to herself, but would not dare voice those words. Instead, she shook her head no in answer to the posed question.
"Then, if you are not here with my family, pray tell, why are you at the train station?" Violet peered at the six-year-old, though she was not unkind.
Catie looked at the floor. She was very nervous and fidgeted with her hands. I am not about to answer that question.
Violet patted the child's knee for a brief moment. "You were not thinking about running away, were you? You do not strike me as the foolish type or the scared one either. You're rather a brave girl." The Dowager gave her a compliment. She liked the quiet little thing and knew Isobel had planned on adopting her. What could have possibly happened? The Dowager wondered and wanted to get to the bottom of it. A child is no match for me, no matter how quiet. "So where were you headed? And don't think you can avoid the question," Violet asserted.
Catie regarded the Dowager for a moment. She knew she had been caught, fair and square. She hoped she could still leave though. Does she even like children? Catie mused. Maybe she could tell me what train to get on? I don't know if she likes Nurse Grey or not. They argue a lot. Finally, Catie told her. "To Ireland," she peeped.
Violet raised her brow. "To Ireland? Hoping to find your family there, are we?" The little girl nodded her head, but looked a bit downtrodden. "Well," Violet straightened up, "they are closer than what you think."
Catie cocked her head. It was the brunette's turn to raise her eyebrow. Closer than what I think, what does she mean? I don't understand.
"If you are determined to go to Ireland," Lady Violet continued, "perhaps, you should stop by the Dower House, my home, first. You look like you could use something to eat before you set off on your journey." Violet chuckled when the girl's stomach growled. "See. I could even offer you better directions, what say you? Come with me?"
Catie was not sure what to do. Directions would be nice. So, she shook her head, "yes, I'll come with you."
"Very good, follow me, my driver is waiting." The Dowager motioned for her maid to grab Catie's hand. The little girl took it, and they followed behind Lady Violet. All three got into the awaiting vehicle and made their way to the Dower House.
…
Upon arrival at her home, the Dowager commanded her cook to prepare something for Catie to eat. She led the little girl to her sitting room, gesturing towards the settee. "Now, take a seat, I will be back momentarily," Lady Violet informed her. "I obviously don't have to tell you to be quiet or behave," she added chuckling.
Catie shook her head no. "I'll wait," she chirped. "It's a pretty room," she mentioned as she swung her legs back and forth on the settee, her feet not quite reaching the ground.
"It is," the Dowager agreed. "I'll be back." She left the room, shutting the door behind her. Violet made her way down the hall, her cane tapping on the floor with every step. She entered the small office and walked over to the telephone that sat on the desk. "Infernal contraption," she muttered. I forget how to dial these things. Something to do with turning the knob. Well, no reason to be frustrated.
She, instead, rang the bell to summon a servant. Within a moment, her butler appeared at the door. "Your ladyship?" He awaited her command.
"Ring Crawley House," Violet declared, smiling internally at the fact that she had to merely ring a bell and help would appear.
"Certainly." The butler dialed the number, and the Dowager peered over his shoulder, observing how he used the phone. I'll have to remember that the next time. No listening ears of servants to wonder what my conversation will be. "It's ringing, your ladyship."
Lady Violet took the phone from her butler and, with a wave of her hand, promptly dismissed him. "I can take the call from here. I have no problems hanging up a phone," she quipped.
…
Lady Isobel Merton had been drawing for what seemed to be a good two hours. She bolted upright when she heard the phone ring and picked it up within two buzzes. "Hello Crawley House. Lady Merton speaking," Isobel answered, hoping desperately it was either Inspector Rollins or Dickie telling her that they had found Catie.
"Hello Cousin Isobel," Violet responded.
"Oh," Isobel muttered, her shoulders shrugging and her eyes rolling. The Dowager was not on the top of her list of people she wanted to correspond with today. But, in her own way, Violet did convince Dickie to give adoption a try. Isobel reminded herself. Perhaps, I'm being too ratty.
"Well, don't sound thrilled to hear my voice at all," Violet scoffed, settling down into her chair to talk.
"I'm sorry," Isobel replied. "I'm just in the midst of a rather difficult situation. The adoption, Catie, Dickie, everything seemed to be going so well. Now, I'm afraid, it's all been shattered in the span of a single day." Isobel clutched the phone, curling its cord around her hand nervously. "I don't know what to do. Catie's ran away, and I have no idea what to do." Her voice cracked.
Violet deemed that Isobel was on the verge of tears. She certainly sounded dreadful. "That is a problem," the Dowager admitted. "It's not very often that I hear that you do not know a way forward. I know that Catie has ran away."
"And it's a terrible thing. Somehow, I know that it is my fault," Isobel was beginning to ramble but suddenly stopped herself. "Wait…how do you know that Catie has ran away? You have been in London with Rosamund. No one in the family knows, I don't think." Isobel rubbed her head; it was all becoming a bit too much.
"I ran into Catie at the train station. The little thing thought she could go to Ireland just like that," Violet chortled. "She is here with me now at the Dower House. I convinced her that she may need directions and a meal before she made her journey."
"You have her?"Isobel could not believe the words.
"I do," Violet affirmed over the phone. "Catie is in my sitting room now, no doubt enjoying a meal prepared by my cook."
"Thank God," Isobel breathed, "she's safe." Her hand smoothed back her hair, and she leaned back in the chair.
"Yes," Violet answered, "I have her."
"May I come over? I'll fetch her right away if you would like. I'm just so grateful you found her," Isobel replied, the words tumbling out.
"There's no need at the moment," Violet snickered. "Give her some time to eat. And," the Dowager paused for effect, "allow me to talk to her. I do not think she is your biggest fan at the moment. What on earth happened?" Violet questioned why Catie suddenly seemed so upset with Dickie and Isobel. "Why did she run away, do you know?"
"Oh," Isobel groaned, "Catie must have overheard Dickie and I talk about the adoption at the hospital. It's obvious she does not want to be with us. I was silly to think that she would choose a pair of old fuddy-duddies to take care of her." Isobel could not hide the sorrow from her voice, the bitter disappointment.
"Are you quite sure?" Violet inquired. "Catie seemed so happy with you both at Christmas. I wonder. Perhaps, you got the wrong end of the stick?"
"What other reason could there be?" Isobel let out a breath, rubbing her temple.
"Give me some time alone with her. I'll get to the bottom of it," Violet determined. "All I ask for is one hour before you come barging in here. All right?" Violet hoped Isobel would agree.
"All right. One hour, and then I will be there," Isobel answered. "And Cousin Violet, please do not force her to talk. Don't frighten the little one." Isobel understood that her friend could be rather brusque when she sought after answers. The Dowager could certainly be an imposing figure especially to a small child.
"I most certainly will not scare her off, if that is what you are afraid of," Violet scoffed. "She'll talk, I have no doubt." A smile formed at the corner of her lips. "Give me one hour." Violet promptly hung up the phone to return to Catie.
Isobel sat for a moment longer. She then pulled another sheet of paper from her desk to write Dickie a note saying she had left for the Dower House in case she was gone when he returned home. Isobel let out a sigh. She has her. Thank God. She has her. I will give Cousin Violet her one hour. I owe her that much. But, goodness, I want to see Catie again. I want to apologize for whatever I have done wrong. If she does not want Dickie and I, I will have to accept that fact. I don't understand it, but, I suppose, I will have to respect her wishes.
It will be so very hard though…to let her go.
…
The Dowager returned to her sitting room, her cane tapping on the floor. She noticed that Catie had eaten all of the soup and bread that her cook had made. "I take it that you enjoyed your meal," Violet chuckled. She reminds me so of Mary with her legs swinging back and forth like that.
"I was hungry," Catie shrugged.
Well, at least she's honest, Lady Violet cracked a grin.
"You told me that you had directions to Ireland. I would like very much to get there. I need to find my family. Someone to take care of me," Catie prodded, hoping to get out of the Dower House as quickly as possible.
She was not afraid of the Dowager. She only looks frightening. Mama said that people who like to seem scary are often big softies at heart. I think this lady is one of them. Catie smiled at Violet.
"I did tell you that, didn't I?" A twinkle was in the Dowager's eye. "I wonder what you see in Ireland. That country lacks refinement. It certainly is not England. And, if I am not mistaken, you were born in England?" Violet asked the little girl, sitting across from her on a navy wing-back chair.
"Mama and Father moved to England. I was born in York," Catie replied. She bit her bottom lip, not sure what the Dowager was getting at. "But bad things happen here," she whispered, looking down.
"Good things too, no doubt. Your parents moved to England for a reason," Violet responded sagely. "You met Cousin Isobel and Lord Merton here. They have helped you, yes?"
Catie went silent. So that is what she wants to talk about – Nurse Grey and her husband. But they want to send me to an orphanage. How is that helping me?
Violet waited for a moment for Catie to respond. When she realized the little girl had clammed up, Violet continued. "So, do you prefer Catie or Catherine?" She decided to try a different tactic.
"Either one is okay, I guess. Mama and Father called me Catherine. But, since I have been here, everyone has called me Catie. It's what the inspector first called me when I met him. It just stuck. I don't really mind it though. I'm used to it by now," Catie peeped. The little girl decided to try again to get her directions. "You said you would tell me how to get to Ireland, and I want to…"
The Dowager cut her off. "Dickie and Isobel call you Catie, I know. They do care for you, my dear." Violet looked squarely at the little girl. "Why did you run away? What happened?"
Catie felt a tear coming to her eye. She looked down at her feet, fumbling with her hands. Then, she returned her gaze to the Dowager. "They don't want me," she whispered. "They are going to send me away to an orphanage. I don't want to go there. Not ever." Blinking rapidly, Catie continued, "Please, I need to find my family, someone who wants me. They have to be in Ireland, don't they? No one ever came for me." Her voice quavered.
It was not often that the Dowager felt so terribly sorry for someone, but to see the young girl before her nearly in tears broke Lady Violet's heart.
"Oh, my dear," Violet responded, "I think you'll find that they do want you. Isobel loves you so very much. Dickie too. Believe me, Catie, you are all Cousin Isobel has talked about from the moment she met you." Violet chuckled. "And, as I am sure you are aware, Isobel can talk a lot. As I have said, your family is a lot closer than they appear."
Catie thought about this new information. She was taken aback. Isobel and Dickie love me. I don't understand. That's not what I thought. Why does she keep saying that my family is close? Does she know where they are? "Then why were they going to send me to an orphanage?"
"I do not think that was ever their intention. Catie, I do not know what you heard, but I can assure you an orphanage is the farthest thing from their mind," Violet claimed.
"But…but…that is what she said," Catie stuttered.
"Perhaps you heard wrong." Violet leaned on her cane, hoping to avoid getting in an argument with the little girl.
"I don't know," Catie replied. "I wish I could talk to her again. Maybe. But I don't think she would like to see me. I'm still mad." She crossed her arms, wishing she just could have boarded the train and disappeared.
They don't want me. I know what I heard.
"Well, be that as it may," Violet chortled, "I cannot change the way you feel." The Dowager then stood up with the help of her cane. She walked over to her bookcase, pulling out a book that contained a map of Ireland. "Now, I believe you wanted to know how to get to Ireland. I'm afraid it's a rather long way." Violet hoped to distract the child long enough for Isobel to arrive. Yes, my cousin needs to talk with this little one. They have had rather a large misunderstanding. Hopefully, they can sort it out. They belong with one another, and I think I am becoming fond of this quiet and rather intelligent little girl. Violet smiled to herself.
…
When Lady Violet had brought Catie to the Dower House, Dickie Merton had just arrived at the train station.
He looked around the platform, searching for a little brunette girl with big brown eyes. Dickie clung to the hope that she would still be there – that she had not boarded a train. I don't see her out here. There were currently no trains that had pulled into the station, so, at least, he did not have to move in and out of passenger cars to find her. I'm sure she was here. Where else could she have gone?
Dickie hurried past people awaiting the next train. He scooted into the building that housed the ticket office. He noticed several benches inside, but a little girl did not sit on any one of them. Oh, Catie, please do not let me have missed you. I don't know what I'll do or what I'll say to Isobel if you're gone.
He rushed up to the ticket counter, hoping they may have noticed Catie. Dickie approached the man at the ticket booth. "Excuse me, but have you seen a little girl? She's six years old, brown hair and brown eyes, about this tall." Dickie gestured her approximate height. "She would have been travelling alone. Her name is Catie, or rather, Catherine Connolly." He was frantic, but wanted to convey Catie's appearance. "Have you seen her at all? Last night or this morning?"
"I'm sorry, sir. I have not. In truth, there are so many people that pass by here every day, I do not pay much attention. Maybe someone else could help?" The man shrugged his shoulders and then motioned Dickie to move aside for the next person in line.
Lord Merton asked a few more employees, but they all answered in much the same way. No one had seen a little girl that fit Catie's description.
Oh no! Dickie put his hand through his hair. He was frustrated beyond belief and very worried. He exited the building, glancing around the platform one more time. She's gone. I did not make it in time. She has gotten on a train by herself and to who knows where. I doubt very seriously if she could navigate a trip; she's only a little thing after all. Dickie took a very deep breath, shaking as he pulled his jacket tighter across his chest. And this bloody wind is not helping matters. What do I tell Isobel? I hope I did not raise her hopes too high.
Dickie prayed silently for a moment. If we can find her, I promise that I will never let her go. Just let us find her.
Downtrodden, Dickie left the train station. He got in his car, but, before he returned to Crawley House, he decided to search the village again, just in case they had missed Catie the previous night. Our heads were not on straight last night. Perhaps, she is hiding somewhere in the village, and we simply missed her. He hoped that would be the case. Somehow, he doubted it would be.
…
The hour had passed, and Isobel found herself growing increasingly nervous as she walked to the Dower House. She so desperately wanted to talk to Catie, to see her again. Isobel hoped she had not ruined what relationship they had formed.
Deep breaths, Isobel instructed herself. Slow, deep breaths. Catie is probably just as nervous as you are. Then again, knowing Violet, the little one probably has no idea that I'm coming. That would be just like my cousin. Isobel listened to the clapping of her heels on the pavement, hoping that the steady sound would calm her down.
When she arrived at her cousin's home, Isobel rang the doorbell. If she had not been wearing gloves, Lady Merton felt sure her palms would be sweating.
The Dowager's butler answered the door, ushering Isobel into the home and directing her to the sitting room.
Isobel walked in on Violet leaning over a book with Catie standing near her.
"Lady Merton," the butler announced and shut the door behind him as he exited the room.
Violet and Catie looked in Isobel's direction. Catie's mouth hung open for a moment before she shut it. She's here. She came. Catie stared at Isobel, watching the nurse very carefully indeed.
"Hello Catie," Isobel said sweetly. When she stood at that angle, the brim of her hat hid Isobel's eyes. The nurse felt quite sure she could cry – from relief – from joy – from sadness. She did not know which one. She just wanted to embrace the little girl and never let go. Isobel wanted to hold Catie in her arms and let her know that everything would be all right.
However, Isobel refrained. I don't know how she feels about me at all. I'm just so very glad she's here. She's safe.
Catie returned to her seat. Then, in a tiny whisper, finally replied, "Hello Nurse Grey…Isobel." Where do I go from here? Catie thought to herself, staring at her hands.
Silence fell over the room for a few moments.
What should I say? What should I do? Do I sit beside her? Across from her? Shall I remain standing? Isobel's mind reeled. Goodness, what silly questions I keep asking myself! Her eyebrows raised involuntarily; the uncertainty apparent on Lady Merton's face.
Neither Isobel nor Catie spoke. They did not know what to say beyond hello.
Violet coughed, breaking the awkward stillness that threatened to swallow the room. "I believe you two are victims of a profound misunderstanding. I can only hope you will both eventually open your mouths and talk." Violet walked to the door, ready to exit the room. With her hand on the door knob, the Dowager noted, "I think it best if I leave you two alone. Speak with one another. I expect that you both have it sorted by the time I return." Her last sentence was not a request, but a command. Isobel and Catie both gave the Dowager a pleading look, as if to beg her not to leave either one alone with the other. "I take my leave of you."
With that, the Dowager shut the door behind her.
Isobel moved to sit down. She decided to sit next to Catie on the settee, feeling that she could explain herself better if she did not have to meet the little girl's eyes. Isobel took a deep breath and then spoke softly. "I'm glad you're safe. I worried about you."
"Did you?" Catie wondered aloud, sounding upset.
"Yes, very much." Isobel looked at her hands, fumbling with her wedding ring and rotating it absently around her finger. After a moment, she looked at the brunette sitting next to her. Catie watched her feet intently. "Catie," Isobel said, breaking the little girl from her thoughts.
"Hmmm?" Catie finally decided to look at Nurse Grey.
Isobel touched Catie's hand lightly. "I am sorry for whatever it is I have done to hurt you. I apologize. I would never want to cause you pain. I am so sorry." The sorrow in Isobel's voice was evident. Then, she continued quietly. "Why did you run away? Violet said that there is a misunderstanding. I don't see how there could possibly be." She was rambling now. "I understand that you do not want us; you mustn't." Isobel had promised herself she would not cry in front of Catie.
She doesn't want to hurt me. Catie thought about that statement for a minute.
The child looked at the older woman's hand resting atop her own.
Then, why does she want to send me away?
"You don't want me. You and your husband don't want me," Catie whispered. "I am an orphan, and you are going to send me to that place…" the child balked at the word, "…that orphanage." She snatched her hand away from Isobel's.
"Is that what you think?" Isobel asked softly. "That I would send you to an orphanage. That Dickie and I do not want you. Oh, my dear," the nurse let her tears escape, bringing an arm around Catie's shoulders, "that is the farthest thing from the truth."
"Then what am I supposed to believe?" Catie responded, shocked that Isobel was now squeezing her tightly. "I heard what you said. You and your husband and Doctor Clarkson and Inspector Rollins," the little one hiccupped as tears welled, "all of you were talking about an orphanage."
"We were talking about informing the orphanage that plans had changed. Dickie and I, well, we want to adopt you, Catie, if you want us to. We would be so pleased if you would consider becoming a part of our family. You must know," Isobel grabbed Catie's small hands in her own again, "that I love you. I love you so very much." Isobel's hands covered Catie's.
It was the first time Isobel had said the words aloud to Catie, even though she had thought them many times.
Catie started to cry. Wet tears soaked her cheeks. She loves me. He loves me. They want me to be a part of their family. I can have a family. I am not alone. They want to adopt me. For the first time in a very long time, the little girl felt happy. Something finally seemed to be going right.
"Oh Catie, dear, please don't cry. Goodness, you'll make me start," Isobel said as she bit her bottom lip. "You don't have to answer right now, if you don't want to. You don't have to say yes, if you don't want to. I'll understand." Isobel rubbed Catie's back, hoping to calm her down.
"Yes," Catie whispered. She stood to wrap her arms around Isobel, embracing the nurse. "Yes, I want you and Dickie to adopt me. I want you as my family. I love you too."
Isobel did start to cry when she heard those words. She pulled Catie into her lap, returning the hug and smoothing her hand through the little girl's hair. "My dear," Isobel sniffed, swiping a tear away from the corner of her eye, "I think we all will be so very happy. I promise to always be there for you." She placed a finger to the end of Catie's nose. "My quiet, little Catie," Isobel chuckled.
"My not so quiet nurse," Catie whispered in Isobel's ear. "Can we go home now?" She inquired.
"Yes, of course, we can go home," Isobel replied.
As Isobel held Catie in her lap for a few more moments, the Dowager walked in on the scene. Lady Violet chuckled, "Well, I see we have sorted out our misunderstanding. Welcome to the family, Catie."
"Thank you," Catie grinned then stood and walked over to the Dowager. "And thank you for not giving me directions."
"You're quite welcome," Violet replied. "I told you that your family was closer than you thought," she chortled.
A thought dawned on Isobel. She sat straight up in her seat and a hand flew to her mouth. "Oh goodness, I forgot all about Dickie. I left him a note saying that I would be here. He's probably still out looking for Catie. I bet he's worried sick. We best be off now," Isobel voiced.
"Okay," Catie answered, "let's go home."
I do hope you liked this next installment. There's more to come. I hope you'll stay with me. Leave a review or PM me if you want. Reviews are always welcome. I always want to know your thoughts if you have the time. Thanks for all the encouragement!