Chapter One

Upton Park Community Library – September 1993

Cecilia Jones, Head Librarian at Upton Park Community Library, would never know exactly what it was that prompted her to investigate the children's corner of the library that day, long after it was normally empty of the after school attendees that usually filled it. Maybe she had been subconsciously keeping track of the comings and goings and noted that one small figure less had left than had entered. But afterwards she would realise that that random inclination to check had unintentionally been a turning point in her life.

The space initially seemed empty but just as she turned to go she heard a tiny sniffling sound, like someone trying to cry as quietly as possible. Alerted, she looked again, and saw the edge of a small foot encased in rather decrepit trainers sticking out from a corner, partially hidden behind one of the colourful half sized shelves.

Moving quietly so as not to startle her little hideaway Cecilia made her way to the shelf in question and crouched down so she wouldn't seem so intimidating.

A grubby, tear stained little face, with a thick mane of dark hair spilling haphazardly out of two bunches and huge red edged green eyes peered out at her suspiciously from the dimness. She, because it was clearly a little girl, would probably be adorable when she was a bit cleaner, but just now, with the wrinkled remains of her school uniform covered in fluff and dust and her face covered in smudges and tears, she reminded Cecilia of an illustration from a Victorian novel on street urchins. For a second they just stared at each other and then Cecilia essayed a smile.

"Hello. My name's Cecilia. What's yours?"

The stowaway seemed to think about that for a second, biting her lip as she considered, and then a very small, heavily cockney accented voice whispered. "Molly. M'names Molly. Molly Dawes, Miss."

Cecilia found her smile widening without her even meaning it. There was something about a proper Cockney accent out of such an imp that was unexpectedly appealing.

"Well, Miss Molly. Are you okay? Because it's getting a bit late, and I was wondering where your Mummy or Daddy is- or maybe you came here with a big brother or sister?"

The little figure shook her head, her bunches flying. "No. My Mummy's not here. She's at home with Bella and the babies. And my Nan's working. And Daddy will be down the pub."

Cecilia bit down a burst of concern at this blithe recital of parental absence. She saw too many children in similar circumstances every day to be surprised. "Right then. So you came by yourself?"

The little girl nodded.

"From home?" She nodded again. "And where's home?"

Cecilia listened as Molly blithely recited her address. It wasn't too far away, just a few streets, but even so a girl this young shouldn't be out on her own this late.

"And you knew how to get here because…?"

Molly sniffed again. "Ms Brown took us here from school."

"Ah." That was why the uniform seemed so familiar. There had been a class of Primary 3s in yesterday from…she frowned as she tried to remember, ah, that was it – Upton Cross Primary School.

"I remember now. So you're in Primary 3 then?" At the little girl's nod she continued. "That would make you – 7?"

Finally that startled out a small smile. "It was my birthday in June!" She sounded like this might be a happy memory and Cecilia gently prompted her to go on.

"Did you do something nice?"

"We had cake! And I got a new teddybear! Well, it was new for me. Mummy found it at the Helped the Aged shop."

Cecilia swallowed a pang at the child's innocent delight in being gifted with a much used bear that had probably only cost her mother 50p. Still, in some households even 50p was a lot.

"Well, that sounds lovely. Why don't you come out and sit with me, while I have some tea and we can get you some milk and a biscuit and you can tell me all about it?"

Molly hesitated for a second and then took the hand Cecilia reached out to her, wrapping her tiny fingers around it for balance as she scrambled to stand up. To Cecilia's hidden amusement when she stood up she seemed even more like a little fairy or an elf than she had tucked in her corner – a tiny little scrap of a waif of a child, all big green eyes and dark hair. She also seemed to realise the state of her polo shirt and skirt uniform and hastily tried to put it to rights while Cecilia waited patiently. Finally finished, she took the hand waiting for her again and Cecilia led her over to the staff break room, where she made herself a cup of tea and found some milk for Molly and handed over the eagerly anticipated chocolate hob nob, which Molly nibbled at with the wide eyed glee of a child who didn't get the treat of a chocolate biscuit of that quality very often.

After a minute or two of mutual biscuit enjoyment, Cecilia put down her mug of tea, determined to find out what had caused this miniature sprite to hide away in the furthest corner of her library on a school day. Used to dealing with small children, she knew that directly confronting Molly with the question would only intimidate her so she decided to approach the subject in a roundabout fashion.

"So, Miss Molly, do you like the library?"

At the child's eager nod she smiled. "That's lovely. It's always nice when people like the library, because I like people to enjoy coming in. And was yesterday's school trip your first visit?"

"Yes."

"So you wanted to come back?" Molly nodded again, but looked a little hesitant.

"What do you like about it?"

The little girl nibbled on her biscuit as she considered for a few more seconds before she answered.

"It's quiet." She pronounced. "Nobody shouts at me. And nobody comes back from the pub and smells bad. Or throws things."

Cecilia's heart clenched at that simple pronouncement. "That's nice. Is home a bit noisy then?" Molly gave her a suspicious look, probably already well drilled on the mantra of not telling strangers about her home life, less the "social" get involved. The little shoulders shrugged.

"It's alright."

Cecilia nodded. "And what about school?"

Molly hunched into herself a little and kicked the chair leg for a second before she answered. "I'm too stupid for school."

Cecilia felt a totally unexpected surge of rage at that pronouncement, shorn of self-pity and matter of fact from a 7 year pronouncing damning judgment on herself.

"Why do you say that?"

Molly tugged a clump of hair from her bunch and played with it for a second before she answered.

"My Daddy says so."

Cecilia's heart lurched but she kept anything but gentle encouragement out of her voice. "And your Mummy?"

The little girl shrugged again, "She's too busy with the babies."

"Right. What about…your Nan?"

Molly lit up a little. "She says that I shouldn't pay any attention to what Daddy says because he's stupid." Then she wilted again. "But I don't get to see her very often as she works and Daddy doesn't like her."

"I see. And the teachers at school?"

Molly bit her lip. "I like school. But I don't read too good."

"Very well."

Green eyed peered up at her suspiciously. "What?"

Cecilia smiled reassuringly. "Very well. You say 'I don't read very well'." She handed Molly another hobnob. "But I'm sure that's not true. Maybe you just don't get enough practice. Does your Mummy or Daddy read to you?"

She wasn't surprised by the emphatic shake of the tousled little head. "No – Daddy goes down the pub and Mummy is too busy with the babies."

"Ah, you see – that's why. Practice makes everything better and easier." Molly seemed amazed by this pronouncement, her little face serious as she nibbled her 2nd HobNob and considered it.

"Really?"

Cecilia nodded very firmly. "Yes. You have to always practice things; otherwise you will never get better."

Molly frowned. "So if I read more books – I would get better at reading books?"

"That's right."

"Oh." Cecilia was amazed that Molly's teachers had never explained this simple fact to their charges, but in a class as big as Molly's (from what she recalled) maybe the teacher simply didn't have time.

The little girl seemed delighted by the concept that she could get better at reading books by reading more books but then her face fell.

"What's the matter?"

Molly scuffed her trainer along the ground beneath her chair and sagged. "I don't have any books."

"You don't have any books in the house?"

The small figure shook her head. "No."

"Well," Cecilia waved a hand to encompass the library. "You have all the books here. Remember your talk yesterday with Ms Brown, who is my friend and works here as well? You can get a pass and then you can read any book you want here, and you can take them home, too."

There, again, that brief illumination in the small face and then the despondency. "I can't. Daddy doesn't like books. And the babies would break them. They break everything."

"Ah well." For the next few decades Cecilia would never know what prompted her to make the offer, but it was one she never regretted to her dying day.

"Well, you could come here, every day after school and read the books. And I could help you find easy ones so that your reading would improve."

Wide green eyes in a grubby face fixed on Cecilia with an expression of astonishment that anyone would do something like that for her.

"Really?"

Cecilia smiled and nodded. "That's my job – helping people find books. But we'd have to get your Mummy or Daddy's permission. And maybe get a grown up to walk you here every day after school."

"Oh." There, the despondency again. "I don't think anyone would."

Cecilia stood up. "We'll work it out. Now, the library's closing soon, so why don't you sit here and finish your biscuit, and here", she passed Molly that famous children's book, The Gruffalo, "look at this and then in a minute I'll take you home. Okay?"

She waited for the hesitant nod and smiled and was rewarded by the most gorgeous beaming smile back, one that lit up the little girl's face until you could see exactly how pretty she was. And it was the memory of that smile that she kept in her mind, all the way through walking Molly home and the subsequent brief interview with her mother, a harassed bottle blond, with a prematurely aged face who couldn't be older than 25 but who already had Molly, and Bella and two other kids under five to contend with. Then the brief discussion the next day with Molly's teacher, when it was agreed, once Cecilia had produced the necessary signed permission slip from Mrs Dawes, that Sharon, the Classroom Assistant would drop Molly off at the library every day after school and then she would stay until Cecilia's shift finished at 18.00, when Cecilia would drop her off back home.

The object of all of this attention sat silent, when the grownups decided the logistics, clearly still amazed that anyone would take the time to help her, but nodding happily every time someone asked her if she was okay with spending every day after school with Miss Cecilia at the library. And with the help of Molly's teacher, who had been aware that the little girl was struggling but had never been able to find time to prioritise her in the face of a noisy class of 33 7 year olds, Cecilia created a reading program that would hopefully get young Miss Dawes back on track and in time, ahead, of her peers. Because one thing Cecilia knew, when she looked at that little face, was that Molly Dawes was not going to grow up thinking she was stupid – not on Cecilia Jones' watch at any rate.