Orphans of War

by Leah Fleming

  After them came the parade floats: the rugby club, the Guides and Brownies, the youth club, who were doing Bill Haley and the Comets in a rock ’n’ roll scene, the WI pageant float, the Townswomen’s Guild, Pedlar’s Dairy float, the Amateur Dramatic Society presenting their next play, wobbling on the lorry, vying with the Operatic Club with their costumes and noise. The procession was backed up right down the street, and behind them came the fancy-dress competitors of all ages, shapes and sizes. Then a parade of vintage cars and saloons, an old fire engine to the rear. The opener of the Carnival sat in an open-topped landau with the mayor in his regalia, and to her horror Maddy found the judges were expected to sit in the next open-topped coach on view as honoured guests.

  It was only the second Carnival since the war. So there was a great splash of ceremony about the crowning of the Carnival Princess, who was Miss Stephanie Sidwell, picked out of a hat at the youth club dance.

  For one day of the year all the community gathered together to parade and spend money for charity. Not that any of it would come Maddy’s way. Her venture was still too new and daring and disapproved of to get much support. Most of the town just pretended the home wasn’t there. Nobody talked to her about it. She was a Belfield, and for once it worked to her advantage. If she wanted to use the old manor house in such a venture it was up to her. It was her money she was risking.

  Now and again something came through the post–anonymous donations with little lines of encouragement. But she was on her own with this one and it felt lonely at times. At the end of each day, she carried her worries up the stairs on her own but for today she wanted just to enjoy the Carnival like everyone else.

  For once the Yorkshire sun blazed down on the assembled crowds.

  ‘It’s faired up right gradely,’ said the mayor. ‘But what’s the hold-up now?’

  They seemed to have been sitting around in the coach for hours, waiting for the band to strike up and the procession to begin.

  ‘There’s a hold-up–right at the front,’ the message went down the line. ‘One of them lorries…stuck in the square and nothing can get round it.’

  ‘Blood and sand! That’s not a good start to the day,’ said the mayor. ‘Anyone for a pint?’ He laughed, pointing to the Three Tuns pub across the road.

  Gregory and Bebe fought their way through the pavement crowds to where the fancy-dress competitors were gathering.

  ‘Don’t leave me, Daddy,’ Bebe cried, clinging on to his hand for dear life. She was dressed as Little Bo-Peep, with peek-a-boo bonnet, a long party dress and a shepherd’s crook with a toy lamb under her arm. Mrs Afton had borrowed this costume from her granddaughter, but Bebe was unimpressed.

  ‘It’s a baby costume,’ she whined. ‘I wanted to be a nurse.’

  ‘You will take what you’re given, young lady,’ Greg shouted at her. He was nervous about coming back, but he must give Maddy that message from Gloria. But how was he to find her among this throng?

  They stood while the sun beat down, waiting for the procession to begin, waiting and waiting until everybody got hot and impatient. ‘What’s the holdup?’

  ‘First lorry’s broken down…typical. Nothing can move until it starts. And it won’t start.’

  There were all sorts of noises, roarings and judderings. Greg dragged Bebe down the street. He could tell that they were doing the wrong things. Nobody had a clue.

  ‘Want a hand, mate?’ Greg asked, but he was ignored at first. ‘Look, why don’t you try…?’

  His fingers itched to get his hands under the bonnet. What he didn’t know about setting up an engine wasn’t worth knowing. ‘Give it here,’ he ordered. ‘Will you mind my little girl?’ He turned to a young mother holding a baby dressed as Red Riding Hood. His shirtsleeves were soon rolled up and he twisted and turned knobs. ‘I think this might be the problem,’ he said. ‘Try it again?…No…not that one, the other.’ The mechanic beckoned him under the bonnet. They were sweating, covered in engine grease. The metal was hot, the sun reminding him of all those treks across France, fettling up army trucks.

  ‘Try again.’ Then the engine ignited smoothly and everyone cheered.

  ‘Owe you a pint, guv,’ said the lorry driver. ‘If you ever need a job Brigg’s your man.’

  ‘Not Derek Brigg…Briggsy? I used to work for your dad as his oily rag…Greg Byrne. You’ll remember me?’

  ‘One of the vaccies! Blood and sand! We were in the same class. You always were one for engines. How do!’

  ‘How’s your dad?’

  ‘Not good…terrible rheumatics. There’s just me now. Our Alan didn’t make it back from the Far East in the war.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but we’ll have that drink, Derek, on me. I’d like to talk to you a bit more about the garage, but not now or we’ll get lynched. You’d better move on.’

  The parade was off at long last. The band was getting everyone in the mood as slowly they edged their way past the church where they’d made an arch of branches and leaves, and down the High Street under all the red, white and blue bunting, turning into the recreation ground with a flourish. There was a sea of clapping, waving noisy customers all rushing to enter the field. The funfair loudspeaker was working for once and it was time to make their way to the judging area.

  Maddy was dreading this, but each age group was pegged to a post. There was a novelty class, family group, boys, girls, toddlers; so many classes to judge from, and hundreds of children.

  ‘Don’t worry, they’ll all get a consolation lollipop. Just pick the one who’s made the most effort,’ said the vicar, ‘and watch out for the professionals. They turn up at every fête in the district. They hire costumes or send for the stuff from adverts. You know the sort of thing–HP Sauce, Heinz Baked Beans. Don’t pick one of those. They’re not locals.’

  They judged the contestants as they paraded round the ring, cowboys, Indians, fairies, Humpty Dumpty, Long John Silver, a cracking crocodile or red dragon–it was hard to tell which–and then Maddy saw the red ringlets of a Bo-Peep and smiled. If Bebe Byrne was on show Greg wouldn’t be far behind. Suddenly, her heart just danced. They’d come. He was here somewhere in the crowd, watching. Once this was over she’d be able to join them and take tea with them in the tent, do all the things a family did together on a day out.

  The judges huddled together making lists, while the assembled princesses gathered on the platform for the crowning ceremony by the mayor and his wife.

  The fancy-dress competitors were quickly dispersed to make room for the procession of visiting queens, and when Maddy looked round Bebe was gone and she was smothered in nylon dresses, with lace trims and petal girls excitedly watching for when it was their time to parade.

  Then Sandra came running out of the crowd, ‘Miss…Maureen started–she’s wet herself!’

  ‘Stay calm,’ said Maddy, trying to look composed, glad that they were hidden behind the striped awning. ‘I see, yes, well, where is she?’

  ‘Over there, right under the tree in the shade.’

  They mustn’t make a fuss and draw attention to the girl. Maddy was thinking on her feet.

  ‘We’d better get the St John Ambulance man over. Have you seen Mrs Battersby anywhere?’

  ‘No, miss, but the ambulance went off with someone in it. I saw that. An old man collapsed.’

  ‘I see,’ Maddy said as she strode down to where Maureen was gathering a crowd–no ambulance, no midwife or doctor in sight. Perhaps her own car would suffice, but it was stuck in the garage and blocked in by parked vehicles outside the Avenue. The town was chock-a-block with visitors on such a lovely day.

  ‘We’ve got to get her to Scarperton, but don’t panic. Babies take hours to be born,’ she said, thinking ten miles wasn’t very far to go, and then a welcome face beamed at her.

  ‘Maddy! There you are!’ Greg was dragging Bebe, sucking a lollipop. ‘We thought we’d lost you.’

  ‘Greg, I’m busy,’ she whispered. ‘One of my ladies is starting in labo
ur.’

  ‘OK, right,’ he said. ‘Do you need any help?’

  ‘Not sure,’ said Maddy. ‘This needs careful handling in a public place. Just the drama our critics will be waiting for. I don’t want to draw attention to her.’

  ‘Don’t worry, leave it to me. Just point me out where she is.’

  ‘Under the tree, Greg, but I’m not sure…’ she cried, but he’d raced ahead. What was he playing at, shouting to the crowd around her?

  ‘Give her some air. Give my wife some air!’ he shouted to the crowds. The girl looked up at him in amazement. ‘Come on, love, time we got you to the hospital quickly.’

  Maureen looked up at his rugged face with astonishment.

  ‘Miss Belfield, will you look after the little one while we make our way to my car?’ He ordered as if he was a stranger.

  It was better than the television drama Emergency Ward 10. Greg lifted up the staggering girl and escorted her down as the crowds parted like the Red Sea before Moses. ‘Over here into the shade, it’s not far,’ he said, turning round to Maddy. ‘How am I doing so far?’

  ‘Brilliant!’ Maddy said. Maureen was swallowed up in sympathy now her husband was here to guide her. No one recognised Greg from the old days. He’d carried it off like a trooper, with Bebe, unperturbed, following in tow like a dutiful sister-to-be.

  They all drove very slowly to Scarperton General in his saloon and went to the maternity wing. When Maddy explained the situation Maureen was duly booked in as Mrs Maureen Smith.

  ‘You can leave me here. I’d better wait. Go back and enjoy the rest of the Carnival. Bebe shouldn’t miss the rest.’

  ‘You sure?’ She thought Greg looked relieved.

  ‘Thanks for your support. You ought to join the drama group after that performance.’ She patted his arm and waved them away, sad to see them go. That was that, then. At least they came. All dressed up and nowhere to go, poor Maddy was Jilly No-mates again, she sighed. It was going to be a long wait.

  They sent her home hours later, content in the knowledge that the first Brooklyn baby was safely in his cot and both he and his mother were well. He was a beautiful little boy with a mop of dark hair.

  Maddy took a taxi, driving through the streets still thronging with merrymakers, enjoying the dancing on the marketplace cobbles. There was a little band and the kids were dancing and running around.

  When she drove up the Avenue, to her surprise Greg’s car was still there, and Grace and the girls were having a crafty cigarette on the steps, waiting for her to return.

  ‘It’s a boy!’ she yelled, looking at Sandra. ‘One down, two to go…’

  They all looked at each other with relief.

  Later, Maddy sat with Greg, knowing Bebe was asleep upstairs out of earshot.

  ‘Thanks for staying on. You needn’t have done that.’

  ‘Thanks for asking us. It’s been a great day out. Poor kid was whacked. We went up to Sid’s farm to see his new girlfriend, Ava. I gather she’s another one of your good causes,’ he laughed.

  ‘One of the Hungarians. Yes, I knew they were seeing each other.’

  ‘I don’t understand you, Maddy. There’s so much I just don’t understand about all this doing good…What’s it all about?’ He gestured around the room and her hackles rose.

  ‘It’s not doing good, as you call it. It’s about paying back.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Do you really want to know, Gregory Byrne?’ she replied, knowing it was now or never. Why hold back now? Maddy took a deep breath, bent her head so he couldn’t see her face and told him about Dieter, the baby, the miscarriage and how Gloria had rescued her and protected her.

  ‘When we fell out later, it was about something quite different.’ She was lying, not ready to discuss all of that. ‘So there, you know why I have to help others in the same boat. This could have been me and I’ll never forget that fact. Giving birth is the easy bit for Maureen–it’s what comes after that will be so hard for them to bear, whichever way they decide to go. Now I expect you’ll never want to see us again.’

  ‘Why is that then?’ He stared hard into her eyes, forcing her to stare back.

  ‘Because I’m not the paragon of virtue you thought I was.’

  ‘Gloria wasn’t who I thought she was either,’ he said, giving his version of what had happened with Ken and the calendar, and how sadly it had all ended. ‘She tricked me into thinking she was his victim but I reckon she knew what she was doing all along,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, come on, Greg, we were all victims one way or another. Haven’t you ever made a mistake?’

  ‘Of course I have.’

  ‘Remember the night you booked us into the hotel and I wouldn’t even come inside. I was scared. I couldn’t risk another mistake. If I’d confessed the real story you’d have run a mile from soiled goods. You said you “didn’t want a slice of a cut loaf” so I kept silent and Gloria jumped into your arms. She’d always fancied you. She wanted you and she told me if I didn’t move over she’d tell you anyway. That’s why we parted company…over you–and look what good it did either of us!’

  Greg sat there with his head on his hands. ‘I’d no idea.’

  ‘No, men usually don’t have a clue. When there’s a battle for custody, it’s the women who decide your fate, I’m afraid. I didn’t feel good enough for you. I had to say no. What if we’d gone ahead and married and you’d found out?’

  ‘What a mess all this is. Charlie was right. I’ve been an absolute pig-headed fool. I thought there was one rule for us and another for you. When Gloria told me the truth about those photos. I stormed out, and that’s when I crashed my car. She took that job to prove herself to me. She would still be alive if only…I have to live with all that.’

  ‘If onlys…all of us have to live with regrets.’

  ‘Did you and Gloria ever make it up?’

  ‘How can friends trust each other after such an argument? That doesn’t mean to say I’m not sorry she died like that. If only…’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry, I’ve been such an idiot. My pride was hurt when you dumped me and when you went on to be such a success, I had to match you.’

  ‘You’ve not done badly for yourself.’

  ‘I’m ready for a change from bricks and mortar, to be honest. I was eyeing up old Brigg’s Garage the other day. It’s ripe for development. It would get Bebe away from Sunnyside Drive, away from that snotty school she hates. Gloria insisted she went to a private school. She did so want to be like you. I always said I’d come back one day but not like this…a cripple.’

  ‘You’re not a cripple. Be patient…healing takes time. After what you two have been through, I think a change is a great idea, but don’t rush it. Bebe needs time to get used to the idea. I think a puppy would be a good idea, though. Just don’t leave it so long before you visit us again,’ Maddy laughed.

  He looked at her and she knew she had a friend again.

  ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’

  ‘You could take me out of this mad house now and again,’ she smiled.

  ‘That’s a deal,’ he replied.

  Greg smiled as he thought how it had started just as friendly visits, but both of them knew it was more than that. Greg felt at long last that he’d found the other half of himself after all these years apart, after so much misunderstanding and half-truths. She was his equal–more than his equal–but he was trying hard not to worship Maddy too much.

  They found a little Collie puppy for Bebe and it was love at first sight between the two of them. Every weekend they seemed to gravitate back across the Pennines to the Dales for tea and toast in the Brooklyn kitchen.

  There were always jobs for Greg to tackle: new shelves, repairing a drain, knocking up some benches. The girls came and went, and his presence sort of balanced things in the household. Bebe took all the babies in her stride.

  It was a sad place sometimes when a girl left without her baby. Some were taken away at birt
h, while others clung on for a couple of weeks. The strain would be etched on Maddy’s face after a tearful farewell. She and Greg often went to the pictures or out for a meal, just to relieve her tension.

  One night they parked up on the top moor road just to look at the stars, his arm round her, sniffing the gorgeous smell of the woman he adored. Things were changing between them. He felt her tense up, trying to say something and holding back.

  This was it, he thought. She was wanting them out of her life just when he was negotiating with the Brigg family to buy into their garage business with a view to bringing his business acumen to the fore. He had this brilliant idea for buying in specialist sports cars to tune up to rally standard. They’d be moving soon, and perhaps Maddy felt it was time he got on with his own life.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he said. ‘You’ve been quiet all evening.’

  ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind. I’m thinking of taking on a partner at the Brooklyn. You’ve seen how chaotic it can get. Some of the girls can be, to say the least, difficult and emotional. I need to get some extra support.’

  ‘I see,’ said Greg. It would need a saint to take on that lot, and not someone like Miss Blunt. ‘Mrs Plum would’ve been the perfect choice if she were free.’ He was trying to stay calm and polite. ‘Had you anyone in mind or are you going to advertise in the Yorkshire Post?’ he answered in all seriousness.

  Maddy burst out laughing. ‘Don’t look so worried. There was someone I had in mind but it would have to be a permanent live-in post.’

  ‘They can be difficult to fill…references and checks…’ He was trying to be helpful, even though he felt sick.

  ‘I’ve got a lifetime of references on this one,’ she whispered as she leaned over to nibble his ear.