“Dear Polly,

It wasn’t my fault! It was awful Marilyn that started, saying mean things about you. I hate Marilyn! And how Florrie gossips! I hate them both. Florrie caught me writing to you and said if I didn’t tell her who you were she would tell Matron Hodges. She told anyway! Oh, I can’t stand that Florrie! Anyway, I accidently hit her and her nose bled. Whoops! But Matron Hodges just had to be told and I was whacked with her belt!

How are you Polly? Are you still very upset? I’m very sorry for you, Polly. I wish I was with you in your house or you were with me in this stinking orphanage. Preferably me in your house. Please write back to me, Polly! I miss you so much. Please please write, I’d be very happy! And I’m rarely happy here in this dump. Very rarely. Very very rarely. Hey…I’ve just had a thought! I could run away – I could escape. I could run to your house!!! Why had I not thought of this before? Oh Polly!! I’ll run away! I’ll get to see you!!

I’ll see you soon, Polly!

Love Dolly xxx”

I’m so delighted and excited!! Running away! Why had I not thought of that before? It’s perfect!! I wonder when I’ll do it. I can do it any time. I could – I could do it now. I pause as I put my letter in the envelope. I could run away now. All I needed to do was get a coat, put all my letters that I had received from Polly into my apron pocket, ‘borrow’ some food for the kitchen and go!! I opened the window and threw down my post. Then I shut it and grabbed my ugly grey pinafore, shoes, socks and dirty apron. I whip off my ragged nightie and throw on my clothes. The other girls are snoring away. I stuff my letters into my apron pocket, along with my writing feather and paper, and a shilling and sixpence I had found on the floor before. I quietly tiptoed towards the door and carefully opened it. It creaked. I winced. Iris, the girl who sleeps beside me, gave a grunt and rolled over onto her tummy. Nobody else stirred. I gave a sigh of relief and went out the door, shutting it quietly. I padded along the creaky landing and went down the stairs. The kitchen was right across from me. I ran quickly to the door and opened it. A loud creak echoed through the empty halls. I went inside quickly. I had never been in the kitchen before – where the cook cooked. I felt around on the wall for a string, and pulled it. A faded light came on. I opened a bread bin and took a few slices of stale bread, and then opened the cupboard. I took out a small, almost finished jar of marmalade. Then I took two apples and a mandarin, and some water in a large squashed coffee cup, and put the top on it. I took a penny bar of chocolate out of the cupboard, along with a few stale ginger biscuits. I grabbed two currant buns and then looked around for something to wrap them in. I immediately spotted a dirty tablecloth in a heap. As I reached for it, I heard footsteps. I froze. Someone was here.