ducked beneath the womanâs elbow. Through a gap in the railing, she saw Papa standing on the jetty, by himself. Then she saw that the gangplank was being pulled in. The ship was getting ready to sail, Letty realised. And she was still on it!
Hereâs a sneak peek at Meet Nellie
âP ROMISE weâll always stay together,â whispered Nellie. âPromise
faithfully
.â
She had to whisper because most of the other girls in the stuffy, tar-smelling cabin were asleep. Nellie didnât feel like sleeping. In fact, sheâd never felt so wide awake in her life. She sat hunched on the narrow bunk that had been her bed for the last four months, and her best friend, Mary Connell, sat hunched on the bunk opposite. Maryâs pale face, half hidden beneath a prim white nightcap, was barely visible in the darkness.
Over the creaking and shuddering of the ship Nellie could hear Sarah Ryanâs muffled sobbing. Poor Sarah must be having another bad dream. The
Elgin
, which was carrying nearly 200 Irish orphans halfway around the world, had seen plenty of nightmares. None of the girls could forget the horror of the Great Hunger, the famine that had killed so many thousands back home in Ireland.
âOf course we must stay together,â Mary whispered back. âYou know Iâd be scared to death without you.â
Nellie reached for Maryâs hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. âThereâs nothing to be scared of, angel. We survived the Hunger, and we survived the workhouse. Weâve even nearly reached South Australia without being shipwrecked! And now weâre going to work for rich people in Adelaide. No more sleeping in dormitories, no more eating corn mush!â Such beautiful pictures now formed in Nellieâs head: a warm little bed of her own, and herself sitting in front of a steaming plate of stew, with a pile of fresh soda bread a mile high . . .
Mary gave a tiny sigh. âI wish I was like you, Nell,â she said. âYouâve always been strong.â
âIâve had to look after myself, just as you have â Iâm not one bit stronger than you.â
âYes, you are! Nobody would ever believe youâve just turned twelve. When you told the Guardians at the workhouse that you were older, it would hardly even have seemed like a fib.â
âIt wasnât
my
fib,â protested Nellie. âIt was Father Donnelly who told the Guardians I was thirteen. He said to my dada that older girls would have the best chance of getting out of the place. He was right, too, for if the Guardians had known I was only eleven, Iâd not be here with you.â
âAnd thank goodness you are,â said Mary, âfor Iâd miss you so much if you werenât.â
âAnd I canât think how much Iâd miss you,â Nellie replied, gazing earnestly at her friend through the darkness. âWe must always look after each other, Mary. Goodness knows what could happen to us in Australia. Superintendent OâLeary told me itâs a very peculiar place. He said there are snakes that can poison you to death in a second, and animals that bounce like india-rubber balls.â
Mary shuddered. âIâll always be there for you, Nell, I promise.â
âAnd me for you. Never forget it.â
There was a sigh, and a thump, as Peggy Duffy turned over in the bunk above Nellieâs head. âDo hush up, you two! Think of us whoâs trying to sleep, now.â
âOh, hush yourself, Peg!â retorted Nellie. âWeâre making no noise at all, and itâs you whoâs disturbing the peace with your moaning.â
In the morning the
Elgin
would be docking at Port Adelaide. And after that, as Nellie knew, all the girls had to find work. Sheâd heard that there were plenty of jobs for Irish maidservants in the colonies. Perhaps she and Mary could work together! Someone in a fine big house might need