The Time-Traveller's Choice

a basic instinct

"You will be covering my breaks," said Miss. Morrison. "I take lunch from 12.00 to 12.30, and you will be required to watch the door while I am away."

I nodded and stepped into the building. Hello to you too, I mouthed to her back. She gestured to a room to the left of the doorway. In it was a large desk with a big chair behind it and a small chair in front.

"Most of the children who come to us have been seen by one of officers of the Union before," said Miss Morrison. "If their parents are receiving out relief, than the Union will take an interest in the condition of the children. Likewise, if the mother has checked herself into the Whitechapel Workhouse, then she may consent to putting her children in our care. The officers will from time to time also encounter orphans on the street that they consider can be rehabilitated by a good example. In these cases, the officer will bring the child and the documents of consent from the parents, if applicable, to us."

She went over to the filing cabinet. "In these cases, you file the paperwork in these cabinets under the child's surname. At the moment intake records are here, and other documents are kept upstairs. Your task will be to reconcile these."

"I understand," I said.

"Occasionally a mother will come to surrender her children directly. In these instances, it is better to take the children immediately and see that they are settled. Otherwise the better angels of the mother's nature, which have caused her to give her child into our care, are overborne by a basic instinct when it comes to the separation.

"While you are doing this, you can direct the mother to wait in this room. To keep her calm, I sometimes tell her that she will be able to see the children again before she leaves, but it is best not to allow her to see them again, to minimise the distress to the child."

Miss Morrison had taken Alice from Emma Connolly as soon as she stepped into the building. She must have taken Alice to the nursery, directing Emma to wait in this room. I imagined that young woman, milk-white skin and black flyaway hair, shrinking into that small chair in front of that large desk. Don't worry, Miss Connolly. You will be able to say goodbye to Alice once the papers are signed. I blinked rapidly.

Miss Morrison looked at me and I wiped any expression from my face and nodded.

"This is the paperwork that must be prepared," said Miss Morrison, pulling a file from the drawer. "If a Union officer is bringing a child in, then you need to make sure these forms have been completed. If it is the mother, ask her to fill them out. Handling the mothers can be upsetting, so if you prefer you can ask them to wait until I return. Try to take custody of the child if you can, however."

"Where do I take the children?" I said.

Miss Morrison gave me an annoyed look.

"Once the paperwork is done, put it in one of these folders," She pointed to a box of hanging files, "and fill out this covering sheet." These were in a neat pile on the desk. "You will also need to complete the file label - Surname, first name, date of acceptance."

"Surname, first name, date of acceptance," I echoed, since Miss Morrison seemed to expect it.

She nodded, then swept past me out into the hallway. I hesitated on the threshold, looking back into the room and making a mental note to avoid touching anything in this room that might have been handled by a bereaved mother. I already knew that the grief of such a separation had been enough to pull me back almost one hundred years. I wasn't keen to go back any further.

"Once accepted, the children are generally with us here for two to seven days before being allocated to one of the children's homes, or, if they are old enough, the industrial school."