Orphans of War

by Leah Fleming

  All the changes in the last months had upset her system, tired her out, so sometimes she went to bed with a Horlicks as soon as she got to her digs, even before supper. Miss Ffrost’s suppers were on the mean side: dried-up cutlets, tired vegetables, watery soup and blancmange that turned her stomach. In fact, the tiredness was so awful she wondered if she was short of blood. Everyone said she looked peaky.

  Going home at weekends enabled her to catch up on decent vegetables, bacon and egg pies. Pastry was her favourite thing and she took to buying Eccles cakes in her lunch hour to keep hunger at bay. She was always hungry. Her sweet ration was used up in great binges of eating chocolate, which then made her feel sick.

  Her heart would lift as they chugged out of Keighley station and the moors began to stretch out before her to Skipton, Scarperton…and then Sowerthwaite.

  There were always familiar faces to chat to on the bus with news of all the local gossip. Gloria kept her on the dot about who was courting whom and who had left the youth club.

  Plum heard from Greg that he was soon going to be demobbed. Good for him, Maddy sighed. If only things were brighter at the Brooklyn. Uncle Gerry was home for good now and the atmosphere was frosty between them all. Sometimes Maddy felt it was better to keep to her room out of the way, or nip down to the hostel to spend the day with Gloria, Beryl and their new friend, Cynthia. All they talked about were boys she didn’t know and other girls she didn’t care about, and who was on at the Picture House. That was when she longed to be back in Leeds with her college friends.

  ‘No word from loverboy, then?’ Gloria asked.

  ‘I do wish you’d stop asking. If I’d anything to tell—’

  ‘Hold your hat on! I was only asking.’

  ‘Sorry, but it’s been three months and not a letter.’

  ‘That’s lads for you: love you and leave you. Thank goodness you didn’t end up like Enid Cartwright. You know, the one who went off with that soldier when we were kids? She’s ended up in a home…for girls in trouble somewhere in Manchester. Poor cow,’ Gloria whispered, enjoying the scandal.

  ‘Can’t she stay at home?’ Maddy asked, knowing Eunice Billingham had married her boyfriend in the town. They were a nine-day wonder, but nobody bothered about them now.

  ‘Where’ve you been lately? Her mother threw her out on the street so she came back here to see Mrs Plum and Mrs Battersby. I heard Mrs Gunn saying the doctor fixed her up out of the way so no one will know her disgrace.’

  ‘That’s what comes of giving your all,’ sniffed Beryl, with a smug grin on her pudgy face. ‘You won’t catch me delivering the goods until I have a ring on my finger and the church booked.’

  That’ll be a long time off, thought Maddy, feeling mean at them all. They knew nothing about being in love. ‘When you’re in love, girls get carried away,’ Maddy offered. ‘Like in Romeo and Juliet’

  ‘Hark at her, the dimwit. There’s ways and means, French letters, rubber caps…’ Gloria winked. ‘You don’t have to get in trouble, not if you’re careful. Mrs Gunn gave me a lecture. I shall plan my family–a boy for him and a girl for me,’ she announced as if it was already in the bag.

  ‘Like your mother, then?’ Maddy snapped back, tired of all this sex talk.

  ‘You leave my mam out of it. She knows what men are like–one thing only on their minds, and up and away. Dieter’s just like the rest, as I said.’

  ‘No, he’s not, he’s…oh, I don’t know. I know he would write if he could and he will write soon. I feel it here,’ Maddy sighed, pressing her hand to her heart in a dramatic gesture.

  ‘Then you’ve nothing to worry about, have you? Don’t look so po-faced. Let’s go and listen to the wireless. It’s Variety Bandbox. There’s that singer on. “Bless You for Being an Angel”’,’ Gloria crooned.

  Maddy smiled and waved them on. ‘I’ll just sit a bit longer and get some air in my lungs.’

  ‘Up the Victory Tree? How’s that going to help you?’

  ‘Don’t know, but I like it up there. Remember when we used to post notes down the nooks, in our secret pillar box?’

  ‘When are you going to grow up? We’re too old for climbing trees and passing on notes,’ Gloria laughed, her eyes crinkling. ‘You’re such a card!’

  ‘I know, but I still want to do it,’ Maddy insisted. Gloria and Beryl went off arm in arm, sniggering. Maddy climbed up to her perch and hugged her knees. Nothing was turning out as she had hoped and there was something else on her mind, something she’d not even considered until now.

  In the branches of the old tree, she could be a child again or roll back the clock to the night when Dieter had made those tender promises. Why hadn’t he written? Was it all over between them?

  Yet another Christmas with rations and restrictions. Will these shortages ever end? thought Plum as she looked at her lists one more time. She’d met Maddy for lunch in town at Marshfields, having procured a beautiful calfskin leather briefcase for all her niece’s notepads and files. A shopping bag was not quite the image for the Yorkshire Ladies’.

  It was good to see her niece blossoming at the college, her cheeks filled out, flushed with excitement. They were holding some posh frock evening at a hotel just outside Leeds and she was going to invest in a proper gown for the occasion.

  If only Maddy wasn’t so tall. The short ballerina-cut length just looked silly on her. They were on the last lap of the shopping trawl, hoping there’d be something affordable in the evening department. It was too late to have anything made up for her.

  Maddy knew the shop and its prices and the coupon count from her boring excursions on Bella’s bridal hunt. ‘We can get something cheaper than these,’ she whispered.

  ‘Darling, you’re only young once. You’ve worked hard and done well, and the Miss Meyers are pleased with your progress. Come on, let me treat you to something glamorous.’

  ‘I’d rather have new jodhpurs and a hacking jacket,’ Maddy said. She’d grown out of the waistband of her old pair.

  ‘No, you wouldn’t. Don’t spoil it for me. This gives me as much pleasure as you. I know Christmas isn’t an easy time for you. Still no word from your German pen pal?’ Plum said, with concern in her eyes.

  They fingered through the hangers in silence. It was good to distract herself from the coming weeks. Gerald was going to tell his mother that they were separating for good. They couldn’t go on living a lie any more. He’d got a good post in London and was living with Daisy again. He’d never really left her. She’d heard him whispering to her over the phone, pretending it was a business call. He’d had the decency to blush. They’d kept up this pretence for months but Pleasance would be horrified: a divorce in the family was such a disgrace!

  She’d take to her bed in despair after dinner, which would be eaten in silence, punctuated by sniffs of disapproval at both of them. Although anyone could see their marriage had been in trouble for years.

  ‘War Hero Returns to Safety’, said the Gazette, with a colour picture of Gerald in uniform on the front page. He’d been back a month in theory, but he was exploring some post in London.

  It was such a pity that they had nothing to say to each other any more. The war had strained the ties between them to breaking point. The gap between their separate town and country worlds was unbridgeable. He was still handsome, bronzed, but cold as ice when the bedroom door was closed, reading with his back to her, going through the motions of being pleased to see her in public but ignoring her the rest of the time.

  How had she not noticed that his lips were mean, tight drawn and thin, his grey eyes like cold fish eyes on a slab when he looked at her? How different from that Hunt Ball in 1925 when he’d gathered her up into his arms and whisked her around the floor as if she was the love of his life.

  Gerald wanted city life while Plum wanted to retreat back into the safe world she knew, a world of dogs and hills. She’d hiked for miles in the past few weeks agonising whether or not they were doing the right thing. She�
�d even talked it over with Mr Murray and Vera, wept over them in distress. They had been kindness itself.

  ‘Not every marriage is made in heaven,’ Archie said to comfort her. ‘The war has a lot to answer for. It’s disrupted so many lives and changed couples from friends to strangers with nothing in common any more.’

  It was a comfort to know she was not the only one but it felt as if she was alone in the world, ashamed and such a failure. Plum was not going to pretend any more.

  Now was not the time to tell Maddy, though. She hardly knew her uncle. It would not mean much to her if they parted, nothing like losing her parents and family. Now that Dieter Schulte had let her down, the poor girl had her own sorrows–so why not blow all her coupons on a flashy cocktail ensemble with a pinched waist and fishtail skirt at the back, à la Paris mode?

  The Dior fashions were making waves in magazines and Leeds women were eager to follow the fashions. The Jewish matrons made sure of that, with their boutiques and expert eye for fabric and design.

  ‘Maddy, look at this one,’ Plum said, pointing to a rich turquoise brocade with a neat bolero jacket. ‘Try this one on, it’s such a pretty colour against your dark hair.’

  ‘Wait,’ interrupted the vendeuse. ‘Let us model some for the young lady. Veronique!’ she called, and a tall blonde girl simpered into view. ‘She will show you our latest range.’

  It was going to be a long afternoon as the girl dutifully posed in six outfits at varying lengths and prices, but it was still the turquoise one that they liked. ‘Would madam’s daughter care to come into the cabine?’ said the saleswoman.

  For a second Plum looked at Maddy and wondering if she should put her right but Maddy smiled and carried on. How lovely they assumed she was her daughter. It had been worth the expense for just that moment of recognition. Maddy was like a true daughter. Whatever happened over the next year with Gerry, no one could say she and Maddy were not real Belfields, with ties stronger than blood.

  How awfully boring her life would’ve been without Maddy and the Old Vic Hostel and the gang of misfits who’d brought it to life.

  When Maddy appeared Plum gasped. She looked so grown up, so filled out, her bust pushing out of the gown and that glamorous, dark hair against the shimmering fabric. When had that skinny crossed-eyed orphan, who’d stood on that station so forlorn, turned into a beautiful young woman?

  ‘It’s pulling a little on the waist but we can let out an inch, perhaps,’ the vendeuse fussed. ‘If miss will wear a proper corselette…’

  ‘What has Miss Ffrost been feeding you on?’ laughed Plum.

  ‘It’s all the snacks at lunchtime. I’ve got such a craving for custard vanilla slices,’ Maddy laughed, blushing. ‘I shall have to starve after Christmas.’

  She tried on two more, a gold lamé and a red satin that looked tarty on her. This had to be the one and it was worth every penny.

  Plum recalled buying that turquoise velvet dress in Harrods during the war, for that first terrible Christmas. Now she was going to spoil Christmas again with bad news, or wait until the New Year perhaps. Gerald would have to broach the subject with his mother before he left for good. Pleasance would take it badly and she’d be left to pick up the pieces. There were dark clouds ahead.

  ‘Your daughter is perfect mannequin size, so tall and straight in the back, with a little adjustments, perfect. She is at home, yes?

  ‘I’m a student in Leeds. Yorkshire Ladies’ College.’

  ‘Ah, yes, I know, the finishing school for Young Yorkshire.’

  ‘No…the sweat shop they call the secretarial college,’ Maddy said. ‘My nails are broken with all that hammering on keys, but it’s fun and I’m so glad I came.’

  ‘We hope to see you again, young lady. Your height shows off clothes well.’

  ‘Not at these prices,’ Maddy whispered in Plum’s ears as she darted into the cubicle.

  ‘Your figure is a little full, but she is perfect for a mannequin. We are always looking for lovely gels of her sort,’ said the vendeuse.

  ‘I’m afraid Madeleine’s hard at work, she’s more Horse and Hound than Vogue’, offered Plum, surprised at the woman’s interest. She’d never thought of Maddy as full-figured, but her shape had changed, rounded and thickened, and it suited her.

  ‘Ah, Madeleine, even a model’s name too, very French and very romantic.’

  Perhaps the saleswoman was just buttering them up, pleased with her expensive sale on a wet afternoon, perhaps not? Maddy a mannequin, now there was a laugh!

  Gloria was wrapping Maddy’s present up in brown paper dotted with potato prints of Christmas trees and stars. She had amused the Gunn kids for hours on the kitchen table, making reams of new wrapping paper out of old wrapping newspaper just like they’d done at the Old Vic. There were a few days’ leave due to her, but it was not going to be a happy homecoming in Peel Street.

  Sid was staying up at Alan’s farm. Now Mrs Gunn had high blood pressure and was on bed rest. The Gunns had wanted Gloria to stay but she did fancy a change, a trip to the panto with young Mikey, a chance to trawl the shops for a bargain. It was pandemonium in the doc’s house–Sarah and Jeremy were so excited–but she was good with kiddies, always had been. She sort of let them run off the leash but sensed just when to haul them back to heel.

  Maddy was going around with a face like a wet weekend in Brid, moping up the Victory Tree like a soppy cow. Sometimes Gloria wondered if she was quite right in the head. Every day of the holiday she cantered over the fields on Monty, and when Gloria called for her she was never there.

  Something was up at the Brooklyn or college. How could anyone be miserable when they possessed the most gorgeous frock? It must have cost at least two months of Gloria’s pittance. It made her going-out stuff look so homespun and tatty, with its cheap trimmings and wrinkled fabric. Maddy’s new dress was too posh for Sowerthwaite, though.

  No doubt it was dear Dieter who’d put the mockers on her Christmas. She’d seen the letter he’d sent to the house; just a few lines and not so much as a hanky for a present. Anyone could see that romance was going nowhere so perhaps now she’d wake up and get herself about town with her posh mates, Caro, Pinky and Bella, and pick up one of their brothers. I ask you, what sort of handles were those, she smiled. That lot lived in another world. They didn’t worry about coupons for corsets or stockings, or worry about what Mam got up to of a night when she left the garment factory with her dizzy cronies, picking up lads young enough to be her sons.

  Marge would never learn but Gloria paused with a sigh. She did have a mam and that was more than poor Maddy had. Oh hell! That was it–Christmas and the telegram, and me getting the wrong end of the stick and her being an orphan, she thought. Poor sod, no wonder she looked washed out and miserable.

  The present sparkled in her hand. It came from Leeds market. It was a metal photograph frame, second-hand, with lots of hammered tulips and flowers. It was for Maddy to put in her digs in West Park, but Gloria hoped she wouldn’t waste it on a picture of Dieter Schulte.

  Maddy could hear the row going on from the top of the stairs. Uncle Gerald was standing in the hall, wagging his finger at his wife, his voice cutting in its cold reproof.

  ‘Just stop right there. A divorce in the family is not an option. Why on earth did you say all that to Mother just now?’

  ‘But it’s the only way…all this secrecy for years. I’m just not pretending any more Gerry. It won’t wash. I’ve had enough. You tell her it’s over, finito… I can’t carry on. What’s the point in this charade?’ Aunt Plum was fiddling with the large Christmas decoration, shifting the foliage this way and that, then throwing the shrivelled ivy across the floor in frustration.

  ‘The point is, while Mummy is still with us I’ll do nothing to disgrace the family name. I will not divorce you. The shame in the newspapers would kill her. You know how she likes to keep up her standing with the county set. We’ll carry on as we always have. You’re free to stay here.’


  ‘Oh, thank you, very kind of you. I’ll not be put away quietly, then? Though why I should want to stay in this empty barn beats me!’

  ‘Oh, Prunella, be reasonable! Nothing needs to change. Why go and spoil everything? You knew it would only spoil Christmas all round. Now you’ve gone and upset things.’

  ‘If you’re so worried, you tell her the full story–how we’ve lived this lie for years. Surely Daisy has some say in things?’

  ‘Daisy understands that this is how it has to be.’

  ‘Then she’s a bigger fool than I thought. The stupid woman must be a dimwit!’

  Maddy saw Gerald move forward as if to strike his wife.

  ‘Shut up, shut up, both of you! They can hear you all over the house. Please stop it,’ she cried, running down the stairs.

  They both looked up, shocked.

  ‘Maddy, we’re just arguing. This is a private matter,’ Plum explained.

  ‘Then say it in private, not in the hall. I don’t want to hear it!’ Maddy cried, storming out, feeling such a rage of fury. How could they spoil Christmas like that, bickering at the table and now shouting at each other?

  Christmas was a holy time, a family time, and now they were splitting up. Didn’t they know that the Belfields were all the family she had left and soon there’d be nothing? It wasn’t fair. She didn’t want atmospheres, sullen silences and bickering, not after her own disappointment. It was bad enough recalling that first terrible Christmas here when she lost her family. Now she had lost Dieter for ever, and if Plum went away too…? It was too much.

  Maddy stormed across the fields in the frosty air. Shivering in her pullover and slacks, she climbed up the Victory Tree to the hidy-hole to sulk and swear. Burning a hole in her pocket was the one letter in all the world she’d been longing for, one sheet of crumpled thin paper with whole sentences blacked out. Someone had read it and blocked out precious words and there were so few words left.