You're It

1

'That's Pearlshill Manor there, Paris.' Lilian Westwood said, turning back to look at her perched prettily on the backseat. 'Isn't it beautiful?'

Paris hastily took off her seat belt, scrambling to get a full glance of the manor house set to be her home. It was OK, if a little rusty looking. But it was huge, with at least four floors and ivy growing on the aged, grey bricks.

She looked at her social worker and slumped in her seat. She'd have rather stayed at her Grandmother's than this new orphanage with other strangers. Grandma enjoyed her company, she'd said so. But Lilian said that Grandma wasn't fit to be Paris' carer, and the past couple of years were emergency placement. Paris had sighed but understood.

She wasn't entirely ungrateful to be given a new home; from what she could see, it was very big which contrasted to Grandma's 1-bedroom bungalow in Somerset. Paris knew Grandma had tried to apply for new housing and she was grateful for that. She sat in silence as Lilian drove up the driveway to the front door, swerving around the massive stone fountain which sat parallel to the door. Lilian stopped the car and turned around once more.

'Now, Paris. I know this is a huge change for you, having to live with lots of other children your age and in such a huge establishment, but you are aware that this is the best solution for you and if I could, I would have allowed you to stay with your grandmother.' Lilian said, putting a hand on Paris' shoulder and smiling sympathetically.

'I know.' said the latter, forcing a smile which seemed sad and limp. Lilian couldn't refrain from allowing such a pitiful glance from appearing on her face.

'You're a good child, Paris. You deserve the world.' Lilian smiled, her short, blonde hair tilting. 'You know you can call me whenever you feel you need to and if you're not settling in well, you can ask one of the matrons to arrange a meeting or whatever with me. Does that sound ok?'

'Yes. Thanks, Lilian.'

'OK.' Lilian beamed, and she turned around to unlock the car. She hesitated for a moment and then turned around again. 'Paris?' she said, in a barely audible whisper. She wore a look of confusion mixed with fear as she placed a hand on the seat and addressed her client.

'Yes?' The latter stopped putting her coat on and looked up. She couldn't quite comprehend what the look on Lilian's face at that moment in time meant but she nevertheless retained her expectant persona as she awaited what Lilian was to say.

'The orphanage isn't quite, how do I say this, not very - ' Lilian paused a moment. 'It's not very modern.'

'What do you mean?' Paris furrowed her eyebrows, a look of doubtful confusion.

'I mean that they are quite old fashioned. With the way they do things, I mean.' Lilian began to wring her hands together, a known sign that she was having trouble explaining things. 'They run quite different to what you're used to. For instance, they like to limit the children's electronic usage to once a week, meaning that you can play on the computer and use the telephone on a Saturday. They really like children to be playing outside and playing with toys and books and each other, you know.' Lilian looked a little doubtful as she rubbed her hands vigorously on her thighs. 'Another thing is the whole situation with the Current; every day at 7pm, they like to switch off the electricity current to save money and you are to use candles and gas burners and things. I think they use torches too.' Lilian swallowed. 'Budget cuts are quite affective in such establishments.'

Paris' eyebrows remained furrowed. She was confused. It was 1995 for Christ's sake! Even Paris had her own little cheap mobile which she could use to call people with. She had a feeling it would take her a long while to adjust to this new house and setting but she wasn't against it and she didn't protest for Lilian's sake.