“Actually, we strongly recommend not telling children they were adopted,” the matron replied. “From years of experience, we’ve learned that it can be extremely damaging to a child to learn they were not naturally born to their parents, and worse, knowing they had been rejected by their natural mother. Either that, or she had been unsuitable. I’m sure you would agree it would be terrible for a child to learn he was a bastard.”
Winny kept quiet. Even though her own parents had been married, she knew how it felt to be judged. She would never let Mary’s son feel inferior to anyone.
“I was adopted, and I never thought of it that way,” Charlotte said.
Matron Douglas raised an eyebrow. “I hear an English accent. How old were you when you were adopted, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Fifteen. My mother died in England.”
“Well, there you are. It’s different for an older child. You understood what was happening. A baby cannot be expected to reason through it that way.”
“I see,” Charlotte said vaguely.
“Right this way,” the woman said, ushering them through another door.
Winny held her breath, taking in the four children in the next room. One girl, three boys, just like the matron had said. The tiny girl, who was easily identifiable with the pink ribbon tied around her head, was deep in thought, trying to fit pegs into a box. One of the boys looked up at Winny then returned to the three blocks he was stacking. He was a beautiful little boy, but his wispy hair was fair. A second boy with dark hair took one look at the three of them and darted behind the nurse’s chair, muttering “no, no, no, no” the whole way. But it was the third boy who caught Winny’s attention. He had been pulling a toy train behind him by a string, and now he stopped short, considering the newcomers. Winny could almost see his thoughts in his head. His hair was jet black. Just like Mary’s. Just like Jack’s. Oh God, she thought.
It took all of Winny’s willpower not to rush in and catch him up in her arms.
A woman in a nurse’s uniform sat in the corner of the room, her hands busy with knitting. “Good morning,” she said, smiling gently.
“This is the couple I told you about,” Matron Douglas said to her. “Winnifred and Jeffrey Hill, and Mr. Hill’s cousin, Charlotte.”
Winny couldn’t wait another second. With all eyes on her, she walked to the middle of the room and crouched in front of the black-haired boy. She picked up the train, and he stopped, confused.
“Hi there,” she said. “Is this yours?”
He plopped back onto his diapered bottom, clearly annoyed. She saw it in the tight little lips and the hint of a line that worked its way across his soft brow. She saw it in the piercing blue of his eyes, and she couldn’t look away. She held out the train and was instantly forgiven.
The nurse set her knitting aside. “That little one is a darling, but he has quite a temper. Smart as a whip. His name is William. We call him Billy.”
“Billy,” Winny breathed, seeing Mary so clearly in his face. Tears burned in her eyes. “You’re so beautiful, Billy.”
As if he understood, Billy’s face lit up like a sunrise, and his arms stretched toward her. With her heart in her throat, Winny lifted the solid little body and held it against her own.
“I’ve got you.” Her chest swelled with a love she’d never felt before. “I’ve got you, Billy. You’re safe now.”
“Well,” Jeffrey said. There was a smile in his voice. “It appears we have a winner.”
“I’m impressed,” said the nurse. “Billy’s usually quite guarded with strangers.”
“He doesn’t feel like a stranger,” Winny said, her fingers stroking the soft down of his hair. Then, because she couldn’t resist, she asked, “Can you tell me anything about his mother?”
“As a matter of fact, I met the mother. I was there for Billy’s birth.”
Winny held her breath. Was this the woman who had swaddled Mary’s baby then taken him away? Was this the woman who had told her she was an unfit mother?
“And? What was she like?”
“I’m certain she was a good, Christian girl, but she was English—” She hesitated, as if she had just remembered their accents, then rushed in to clarify. “One of those Home Children. I’m sure the pregnancy wasn’t her fault technically, but they come to this country knowing nothing, you see. They don’t know right from wrong.”
Charlotte stood behind Winny, pressing against her as a reminder of how important it was that they stay calm and not upset the matron. This was their one and only chance.
But Winny had to ask. “Why did she leave her baby here?”
“It was better for everyone. I’m sure you understand. She was returned to her master, and the child was given the possibility of living a better life.”
“What a sweet, sweet boy,” Charlotte cooed, nudging Winny again. “Isn’t he perfect, Winny?”
“Yes,” Winny said, letting herself be drawn out of the discussion. When her eyes met his, Billy put his cool little fingertips on her lips, making her smile. “He’s absolutely perfect.”
“Are you sure?” Matron Douglas asked. “You didn’t spend much time thinking about it. Keep in mind you cannot simply exchange one for another if you decide he’s the wrong one for you.”
“No. This is the one. This is my son.” Winny kissed Billy’s fingers one by one while he watched in fascination. “I’m absolutely sure.”
twenty-five JACK
— 1939 —
October 1939
Shilo, Manitoba
Dear Edward and Cecil,
I know it’s been a while since I last wrote to you and I’m sure you wondered where I went. I can’t even really tell you that, because I can’t remember. I’ve been hopping from train to train, and after a while I lost count. I guess you could say that I got a little lost. A man don’t have to worry about much out here, just staying out from under the wheels and dodging the bulls. But I have had a lot of time to think about things. Promises I’ve made and not kept.
I’ve never stopped wondering about the girls, but in all this time I never saw or heard anything about them. If I’m being honest, I asked a lot of fellas at first, but I gave up on finding them a long time ago. There’s only so many times a man can be told no before he finally believes it. I don’t suppose Mr. Brown ever got back to you, did he? I doubt it.
Anyhow, I’d just about run out of things to ponder when someone handed me a newspaper that said we’re at war. I never was one to run from a fight, was I? Well, this seemed like a pretty big one, and I’m ready to get my hands dirty. I reckon maybe this is my chance to do something good. To stand up and make a difference.
So here I am with the Royal Canadian Horse Artillery, which is part of the 1st Canadian Division. Don’t ask me why we’re called that, since we don’t ride horses. At least I haven’t had to so far. For now I’m in Shilo, Manitoba, which is some of the prettiest land I’ve ever seen. Miles and miles of open prairie, but just when you get bored it turns into hills and trees, and even to sand dunes. I reckon they’ll be sending us overseas in the next few months, but I can’t say when. Maybe back to jolly old England. Guess they’ll send us through Halifax again.
You gonna come out and fight with me? I know it ain’t the home cooking of Mrs. Cogan, but it is three square meals a day, and you get to sleep in cots just like in the old days. Remember those things? Squeeze us all together in one room so we can hear each other snore and fart all night long. Good times. Well, I’m doing that again, and it would be a hell of a lot more fun if you two were here.
Jack
October 1939
London, Ontario
Dear Jack,
Mr. Brown never got back to us. You aren’t surprised, are you?
Edward just went to buy the train tickets. We’re on our way. Save us a couple of cots.
We’ve missed you.
Cecil
twenty-six WINNY
— 1942 —
Winny finished stocking the inventory cupboard with bandages and syringes then flinched when she checked her watch. She was running late. As fast as she could, she finished what she was doing and rushed over to sign out at the nurses’ station. Her graduation ceremony was in less than an hour, and she still needed to change into a clean uniform before she could head over to the school. Esther would meet her there with Billy. Thank heaven for Esther.
Back in the nurses’ room, she pulled her fresh uniform from her locker and got changed, doing up all the little buttons and setting her cap on straight. When she stepped in front of a mirror to check her appearance, it hit her: tomorrow morning when she showed up for her shift, Winny would be a fully fledged nurse at the Toronto General Hospital. And just in time, too.
Nobody could have imagined the war would still be raging three years on. Now there seemed to be no end in sight. The hospitals were overflowing with injured men from the front, and qualified nurses were needed now more than ever. Since the war had begun, Winny had tended the most horrific injuries and seen more pain than she ever could have imagined. The unspeakable damage that had been done to thousands of these men filled her nightmares, but she never complained to a soul. It was her duty to carry on and do what she could to help their bodies and their minds. After all, it was not she lying in a bed without eyes or arms, not she whose hip had been shattered. Winny could go home every night and spend time with the people she loved, but she could not say the same for these men.
She turned from the mirror and quickly left the room. Passing the front desk, she trotted to the main doors and into the fresh air, then she headed toward the school. She checked her watch again and picked up her pace; she should be right on time if she kept moving.
Even out in the brilliant sunshine with thoughts of Billy and graduation flitting through her head, Winny’s mind still dwelled on the war. It was so difficult to shut it off, because when she thought of the war and the people she loved, things got complicated. Whenever she saw young men in uniform marching in the streets, she studied their faces, looking for Jack, Edward, Cecil, and David. Even after so many years apart, they were always with her. Had they gone to war? She knew the kind of boys they’d been years ago: always rough and ready to take on the next battle. She imagined as grown men they hadn’t thought twice about going to fight. Just as she had reached for her nurse’s uniform, they would have reached for a soldier’s. And because of that, whenever she pulled back a curtain to tend a new patient, she pushed the faces she loved from her mind. Otherwise it was too difficult to turn to the next bed. At least Jeffrey was safe. Lucky for him, his vision was deemed bad enough that the army didn’t want him.
“Winny!” Charlotte stood at the top of the school steps, hopping on her toes. “Come on!”
“I’m here, I’m here,” Winny said, running up to her.
“I was worried you weren’t going to make it.”
“Sorry, sorry, sorry! Where’s Billy?”
“Already inside with Esther.”
Winny followed Charlotte into the foyer, where the rest of their class had gathered, then Charlotte turned to straighten Winny’s little cotton cap. “I can’t believe we’re graduating,” she said. “Are we really ready for this?”
“Of course we are.”
The girls fell into lines of two and marched into the auditorium then onto the stage. From there, Winny looked into the audience and spotted Charlotte’s adopted parents, the Carpenters, cheering her on. Beside them sat a beaming Jeffrey, a bouquet of red roses on his lap. For Charlotte, no doubt. And beside him, sitting on Esther’s lap, was Billy. His lips moved constantly with words Winny wished she could hear.
It felt like just last week that she’d first brought him home to the apartment. She’d watched with delight as his chubby little fingers pointed at everything he saw, and she couldn’t help laughing along with him as he took in the noises of the city. Inside their new home, he had wandered behind and around the furniture and lamps, exploring his new surroundings until he tired of it, then he’d held out his arms for Winny. Within seconds, he had fallen asleep, melted contentedly into a warm, lovable lump on her lap. In that moment Winny realized, without a shadow of a doubt, that she would do anything in the world for this little boy.
It hadn’t always been easy, of course. Jeffrey’s sister, Esther, was a godsend, but even then, most days Winny needed an extra twelve hours on top of the twenty-four. Even today she felt a little like Charlotte’s brass wind-up clock, except she kept forgetting to wind herself up. Nursing school had kept Winny and Charlotte busy, and their heads were filled with lessons on practical and surgical nursing as well as complicated classes about anatomy, communicable diseases, physiology, and diseases of the eye, ear, nose, and throat. Because of the war, a whole host of extra lessons on treating wounds and limb loss had been added to their course. And then there were the nights when Billy put Winny’s nursing skills to the test, fighting fevers or incoming teeth, and Winny had felt as if she were hanging on by a thread.
The first time Billy called her “Mama,” she broke down and cried, thinking how unfair it was that Mary would never hear those two beautiful syllables. That had unsettled him terribly, so she had turned her tears to happy ones, hugging him and tickling him until he made those wonderful belly laughs that she couldn’t resist.
Despite the late nights and the endless worry, Winny wouldn’t have changed a thing. She had kept her promise to Mary and given Billy all the love she had. Now she couldn’t imagine her life without him. He was such a happy boy. And so smart. The matron at the maternity home had been right about his temper, but Winny knew how to calm him. After all, she’d done it for years with his mother. Billy was everything to Winny, but sometimes his sweet face broke her heart. And it wasn’t just that he was Mary’s son. The dimple that curled in his soft cheek whenever he gave Winny that saucy, one-sided smile belonged to Jack.
“Doesn’t Jeffrey look handsome?” Charlotte whispered beside her.
“He only has eyes for you, Charlotte,” Winny replied.
Their romance had finally blossomed last fall. Jeffrey had insisted on accompanying his sister to their apartment almost every day, despite Esther’s protests that she walked only during daylight hours and only on safe streets. Winny wasn’t fooled, and she loved watching Charlotte primp while she waited for him, pinching her cheeks before he arrived and adding a touch of vivacious red lipstick—which she had to remove before they reached the hospital—to her already beautiful lips. When Jeffrey appeared one evening with a bouquet of fresh flowers and asked her to dinner, Charlotte had floated on air for the rest of the week.
Winny, on the other hand, had no time to think about dating, but when she pushed Billy’s stroller through the park on sunny weekends, the fact that she was a woman walking alone with a baby never went unnoticed. Now that her fictitious husband was dating her best friend, Winny resorted to telling nosy pedestrians that her husband had gone to war.
Settling onto her seat, Winny gazed out at the rest of the audience and caught her breath. There, sitting by herself near the back, was Mistress Adams. She shifted under Winny’s scrutiny, clearly uncomfortable, and turned her face to the side. Over the past two years, Winny had sent brief updates to the woman detailing how she was doing. She’d felt obligated, since her mistress’s money was helping to finance her schooling. But Winny had never expected her to show up at her graduation, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about seeing her there. The sight stirred an uncomfortable rush of emotions that Winny had thought she’d put to rest.
From the podium on the far end of the stage, an aged professor addressed the graduating students, and Winny reminded herself to pay attention. This would be her one and only graduation ceremony, after all.
“You are no longer naïve little children,” his wavering voice said into the microphone. “You are important, productive, valuable members of our society. You are the future of Canada. Everything in your past is behind you now, whether it was go
od or bad, and it all matters. All of those things will contribute to the person you become in the future.”
Winny bit her cheek, trying not to cry. The ugliness was all behind her, but so were some of the best moments of her life. The people she had loved before were gone, but they had helped make her who she was now. Because of Jack, she ran faster and reached higher. Because of Mary, she knew the meaning of true friendship. Because of Charlotte, she understood the sun would always rise again. Even Mistress Adams had contributed to who Winny had become.
At the end of his address, the professor began calling their names, and applause rose from the crowd as each student went to receive her diploma. Then it was Winny’s turn.
“Miss Winnifred Ellis,” the professor said, and she got to her feet. Flushing with pride, she walked across the stage toward him, her white leather shoes padding quietly on the floor. As she shook his hand and collected her diploma, she heard her friends in the crowd clap and cheer, and she turned toward them with a smile. One voice rang above the rest, bringing tears of joy to her eyes.
“Mummy!” Billy was jumping up and down, waving his cap at her. “That’s my mummy!”
Grinning, Winny waved back at him, her heart full. In that moment everyone in the audience was watching her and applauding her accomplishment. Not one person in the crowd was judging her or sneering at the Home Girl. No one out there truly knew how far she’d come, except maybe Mistress Adams, who was dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief, a warm expression of genuine admiration on her face.
Winny glanced over at Charlotte, meeting her dancing eyes, and was startled by a long-ago memory: the face of a terrified little girl alone in a dark room, fruitlessly awaiting her mother. The illusion passed in a blink, but Winny’s sense of unease lingered. Back then, she had thought she was happy. She’d thought she had everything she’d ever need, living with Mary at Barkingside. How little she had understood. How much their lives had changed after that. Her gaze returned to Billy, struggling to loose himself from Esther’s caring arms, and she wondered what that said about her life right now. So many things were uncertain. So many things yet to come.
The Forgotten Home Child Page 20
