The Secret Orphan

by Glynis Peters

  Sally put her hands together and begged. Elenor laughed. ‘Your problem, not mine. I’m not taking anyone off your hands.’ She giggled.

  ‘I love you Elenor Cardew, but sometimes you push our friendship to the limits. It is you he wants. He’ll hang round me until he gets you.’

  ‘No amount of pleading will get me to take your castoffs. Now go and sell some undergarments and leave me to my hand cream. Meet for lunch?’

  ‘Yes. And be prepared for more begging,’ Sally said as she walked away with a dramatic swagger.

  Morning customers kept Elenor busy and before she knew it, Sally was back at her counter and they headed to the staff room for their bags.

  ‘Ready? Let’s eat in the park. It’s gorgeous outside.’

  ‘Can’t we eat somewhere else? I’ve not been back since …’

  ‘No. We are going to face your demons. You cannot hide from the park, not on a sunny day. You are stronger now. Jackson let you down, but you will let yourself down if you hide from everything because of him.’

  Elenor picked up her lunch.

  ‘I will come but if I cry it will be your fault. A lot happened to me that day and I do not know how I’ll cope.’

  ‘If you cry Mrs Green will tell you off for black streaks of mascara,’ Sally replied.

  As they entered the park Elenor felt the hairs on her arms rise and tingle her skin. Sally chattered on about trivial things and they sat on the grass under the shade of a large oak.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Sally asked and took a bite from her sandwich.

  ‘Not as bad as I thought. I’m over Jackson, but it’s the traumatic events after which hold me back. I’m afraid of water yet can’t remember falling into the river. And the dark can sometimes trigger nightmares.’

  ‘Understandable, I suppose. But now you’ve shaken off the fear of coming back here, that’s a good thing, right?’

  ‘Thanks Sally.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For being a bully with a heart.’

  Once their lunch break was over they headed back to the store and Elenor felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

  That evening she kicked off her shoes in the hallway and scooped up two letters from the floor. Victoria and George were away, and Rose was having tea with a school friend. She was due home after six.

  The letters were for George, and to Elenor’s horror one bore the Canadian post mark. She stared at it and the pain of rejection threatened to reappear. She dropped the letters onto the sideboard in the hallway and walked away. Jackson’s grandfather and George still communicated. It was something she had to accept.

  Needing a distraction, she fetched the new script for a play from her desk, stepped into the kitchen and poured a glass of water, then sat in the garden to wait for Rose to come home. She did not have to wait long. A whirlwind of activity followed Rose’s arrival. A barrage of what she’d done with her friend, what they’d eaten for tea, and what the girl’s mother baked, all fell from Rose’s lips faster than the speed of light. Elenor walked behind her picking up her coat and bag.

  ‘Excuse me madam. When can I get a word in edgeways? Just because your parents aren’t here doesn’t allow for laziness. I’m not your slave. Take these to your room, wash, clean your teeth and get your nightdress on and come and join me. We can sit in the garden where it is cooler. You can have an extra fifteen minutes after your bedtime but no more and bring down a book to read.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Rose’s voice echoed down the stairs followed by a clattering of drawer banging.

  Elenor shook her head and walked outside.

  ‘Ooh, it’s much better out here.’ Rose’s voice broke the silence.

  ‘It is, and you can sit and calm down before bed.’

  Rose climbed onto a chair beside Elenor.

  ‘Why did Jackson write to Daddy and not you?’

  Never shocked by Rose’s ability to surprise her with a blunt question, Elenor found herself lost for words for this one. She’d forgotten the curiosity of a child and that Rose would have found the letters in the hall.

  Composing herself, she took time to answer.

  ‘I don’t think it is from Jackson. I think it is his grandfather. Your father and he have written to each other for a long time.’

  ‘Why did Jackson be so cruel? Mummy said he was cruel to you. I thought he was a nice man and loved you. He kissed you. Mummy told Daddy. So, if he kissed you he should have married you. Is that why he was cruel?’

  Any strength Elenor thought she had left now drained away. The words from a child’s mouth managed to beat the breath from her lungs and she gulped for air.

  ‘Jackson wasn’t cruel. He had to go back to his own country.’

  ‘But he hurt you and you had a poorly head. Mummy said he hurt you.’

  Elenor looked at Rose. Her little face was creased with concern for Elenor and her innocence could not grasp the different meanings in the word ‘hurt’.

  ‘I was sad when he left. He was my friend. When Mummy said he hurt me she meant he made me sad. I hurt myself by falling over in the rain.’

  ‘I don’t like him anymore,’ Rose said and her bottom lip dropped into a sulking pout.

  ‘Please don’t say that, Rose. Grown-ups make friends in different ways. Sometimes we have to let go of our friends, but we never forget them.’

  Rose jumped from her chair onto the grass and put her hands on her hips. Elenor stared at her cherub-like image trying desperately to look fierce.

  ‘He made you cry,’ she said and stomped her foot.

  Elenor swept her off her feet and sat her on her lap.

  ‘I cried because I gave my heart over to him a bit too early. When you are a bit older you will understand we can love at the right time, but sometimes it is the wrong time. We have to learn by our mistakes. Jackson is a good man. One day I might meet someone like him, or I might not, but what I don’t want to happen is that you think of him badly. Always remember him in a kind way.’

  Rose leaned against Elenor’s chest.

  ‘I think your heart is working again. I can hear it. Mummy said he broke your heart.’

  ‘Bless you, yes, my heart is working again. Now, I think it is time you climbed those stairs and into bed. I’m going to have an early night so won’t be far behind you,’ Elenor said and kissed Rose’s cheek. ‘And Rose, thank you for caring about me.’

  Once she’d settled Rose into bed, Elenor walked through the house closing windows and shutting doors and wished it was that easy to switch off painful emotions. Victoria had been right. Jackson had broken her heart and she doubted she would ever find the right time to love another, no matter what she said to Rose.

  Chapter 24

  3rd September 1939, 11.25 am

  ‘It’s all hot air and pompous politicians sitting around a table,’ George said. ‘It means nothing. No different than what we are doing now. Sitting listening and talking.’

  He picked up a cup and drank from it, then winced.

  ‘Tea’s cold,’ he said and looked at Victoria. She remained seated beside the wireless and made no attempt to move.

  ‘But we are at war. It is more than hot air,’ Elenor replied. ‘How can you say it means nothing? I think it is the most ridiculous thing anyone can say on a day like this. A war has been declared. What part of it do you consider means nothing?’

  George lit a cigarette and puffed out a cloud of smoke.

  ‘It will be over with by tomorrow. Talk. Talk and argue. Argue and talk. It has to be done. Hitler will get his way, and life in Britain will go back to waving flags at the King.’

  ‘Have you been drinking George? Did you hear the Prime Minister’s speech?’ Elenor said and turned around. ‘Victoria, did you hear war declared just now? A speech given by Mr Chamberlain – or was it only me?’

  ‘I heard it,’ Rose said. ‘I heard the man. Oh, what is that? Has it started?’

  The trill sound of a siren blasted through the
mesh of the wireless grill.

  ‘They’re not wasting time, are they?’ Victoria said.

  Elenor watched Rose race around the room gathering items she said they might need inside the shelter.

  ‘Calm down darling, it is a practice sound from London. You have given me an idea though. I think we should all pack a bag with useful things inside and leave them by the door. If a siren is sounded, we can grab them and go. Remember, it is three minutes walking fast with no stops to the nearest shelter.’

  ‘I have to run. My legs are shorter,’ Rose said.

  George stood up and pressed the stub of his cigarette into an ashtray.

  ‘I’d stay in the house. Safer. Any bombs dropped by Germany will be aimed at public places. Obvious targets, you get the majority that way. Look at the bombing of Broadgate last week. Nothing to do with Germany or Europe’s war – allegedly Irish I think, but they targeted the general public in a main shopping area.’

  ‘Don’t remind me. The store shook. As if we’ve not got enough to contend with. Do you think they are allies with Germany?’ Elenor said and gave an exaggerated shiver.

  ‘Who knows? I do know, when Britain’s enemies drop their devices more than the ground will shake. And the country is far from prepared,’ George said and stood up.

  ‘That’s the sort of talk which no one wants to hear, George,’ Elenor said and stared at the back of Rose’s head to emphasise her point. ‘Dangerous talk.’

  ‘I think I’ll make fresh tea,’ Victoria said and gathered up the cups.

  ‘I’ve a mind to go for a walk. Meet with a few chaps,’ George said.

  Elenor looked at the pair going about their business with little concern for the morning’s announcement.

  ‘The King is giving his speech at six,’ she said, more for the sake of something to say. She didn’t expect to sit beside the wireless for another seven hours.

  ‘Ah, well that’s it then. War will be over by teatime,’ George said with heavy sarcasm.

  ‘Really Daddy? Will it? I hope so. My mask stinks,’ Rose said and stared up at her father.

  Ruffling his daughter’s hair George walked to the door.

  ‘You won’t need it for long,’ he said and left the room.

  ‘Tea, Elenor?’ Victoria asked.

  ‘Is it only me taking this seriously? Have you two taken something which calms the nerves – because if so, I want some please. My nerves are having a party inside my body, they are jangling so much. Come on Rose, let’s pack.’

  23rd November 1939

  Dressed in preparation for several hours in the garden, Elenor gave thanks for the knitted items she’d made. The temperature had dropped overnight, and although the sun shone it provided little warmth.

  ‘Good morning, George. Are you ready for a morning of digging? If only I had the plough.’

  Elenor approached George outside the shed at the bottom of the garden.

  ‘Morning. I think even the plough would struggle through this lot. It’s run away with us and the ground is hard. We should have tackled it earlier,’ he said and waved a trowel at the long grass and neglected flowerbeds.

  ‘We’ll appreciate the result. There are plenty of seeds here. Carrots, beet, cauliflower,’ Elenor said and handed him a bag she’d bought in town.

  ‘When we’ve finished, we’ve a treat waiting indoors. I also bought us smoked ham, and ham hock. If that isn’t an incentive to dig fast and furious, I don’t know what is.’

  George laughed with her. He also held out a bag.

  ‘Seed potatoes. Ah, here come the workers.’

  Victoria and Rose joined them in the garden. Rose rushed up to her father.

  ‘Daddy. Elenor brought home ham for my birthday tea. It smells wonderful. Mummy said if I work hard pulling out the dead flowers, and help you clean the tools, I can have some for lunch.’

  Preparing the garden proved to be more fun with George than Elenor had anticipated. He joked with Rose, teasing her with worms, and moved from bed to bed in an orderly fashion pretending he was a sergeant major in the army, giving out instructions. Victoria worked in silence setting the seeds in trays and planting out the various plants ready for Rose’s watering skills. Elenor dug up grass areas into squares and prepared the soil for the seed potatoes and inserted canes for peas and beans. By midday all were famished, and Victoria went inside to prepare a meal.

  George turned over soil at a rapid pace and Elenor listened as he hummed whilst he worked.

  ‘You really do enjoy gardening for a purpose, George. You’ve never put this much energy into flowers,’ she said and laughed.

  ‘Keeps the mind sharp and occupied,’ he replied, tapping his head with his forefinger.

  Skipping her way around the garden, Rose had lost concentration, and no longer pulled the dead marigolds from her allocated bed. Once again, Elenor envied her freedom and sent up a silent prayer for victory over their enemies. Life would be so very different if they were defeated.

  Elenor saw Victoria wave from the back door.

  ‘Rose, I think Mummy is calling you darling, go and wash your hands.’

  Elenor patted Rose on the shoulder, then lifted her high and swung her around.

  ‘Later I want to hear you play the ‘Moonlight’ tune. It will help me get into a serious mood for a scene in a new play we’re rehearsing.’

  Both George and Elenor watched Rose run inside and Elenor released a loud sigh. George looked at her.

  ‘You’re going back to Summercourt, aren’t you? That’s what the telegram was about. The one which you’ve not mentioned since it arrived yesterday,’ he said.

  Elenor rubbed the dirt from her spade.

  ‘I’ll have to go sometime, George. I’ll put it off for as long as I can, but when the war is over my brothers will need a home. I can’t have them live here, and if left in the hands of strangers I’m afraid Tre Lodhen will fall into neglect. From what I gather, they’ve both downed tools and joined the army. At least they’ve had the foresight to employ a manager to manage the land. He sent the message.’

  She pulled out the telegram from her trouser pocket.

  ‘No funds. Farm in ruins. Need advice and salary. My brothers must have given him my address and told him I’d pay his wages. They don’t care about the family home but will want its income after someone else has done the hard work, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Have you considered handing it over to the government?’ George asked.

  ‘I can’t do that, it’s our family’s heritage. I’d only do it if I couldn’t cope, but it would be a last resort. I’ll see how this man does first. But if I think about it, I’m not needed here. Not really,’ Elenor said and sighed.

  ‘You have work here,’ George said. He stopped working and lit a cigarette. Elenor leaned against the wooden frame of the compost heap. She lifted her face to the thin stream of sunshine falling across the garden.

  ‘My job is selling ladies face cream in a store. How can I do that knowing our family farm is going to rack and ruin? I spend evenings singing and practising for plays which, don’t get me wrong, I love doing, but on the farm I can supply villagers with food, help them prepare gardens like we are today. Important work. When we gave our occupation details to the census woman last month, mine just felt trivial. Unlike Victoria who has a child to care for, and you teach and have mentioned joining a local cause. Me? I sell items of vanity.’

  ‘Some women would argue and say selling them face cream is vital war work,’ George said and gave a teasing laugh.

  ‘See, even you are making fun of my job,’ Elenor said and went back to planting seeds in the furrowed out rows.

  ‘This is important work. Feeding ourselves,’ George said, and poked the ground with a garden fork as he walked up and down the length of the garden.

  ‘Yes, and I could do more at the farm. This is not my job, it is my duty to us in the home.’ Elenor said. ‘You are capable of doing it without me. So, I say again, I’m not needed
here.’

  She watched George and realised it was the most physical work she’d seen him carry out for years. He’d not been called up to fight due to problems with his feet and chest. Elenor had never known him to suffer with either, but apparently the army doctor turned him down and he took great pains to show off his stamped papers, so it was true enough.

  ‘You and Victoria can stay here. I’ll pay the rent for another year. My aunt left enough, and with my earnings I’ve not touched my inheritance. It will give me somewhere to come back to after the war is over. I won’t be able to live with my brothers, and I am not slaving for them again. My intention is to come back to Coventry the day they return to Summercourt.’

  Stretching his back and pushing his fork into the ground, George removed his flat cap and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a clean handkerchief from his pocket. He swept his hair back and replaced his cap.

  ‘You must do what you think right for you. I’ll do my bit and keep on top of the garden; keep us fed. When we fall to Germany, we will need to have food available. Look what happened to Holland back in May last year. Bombed until they were forced to surrender.’ Annoyed by his assumption Britain was to be defeated, Elenor stopped what she was doing.

  ‘When we fall? Germany won’t take British soil, George, and the Germans won’t starve us into surrender. There is no “when we fall” about it.’

  ‘I’m not so sure. I’ve made arrangements for Victoria and me to go away for a couple of days soon. I think she mentioned having the time off. The older folk need a hand to prepare vegetable gardens. As usual we’ll leave Rose with you, but if you have to go back to the farm we’ll ask a friend to look after her.’

  ‘Victoria did ask, and she is entitled to time off. Why don’t you take Rose with you to your family and enjoy more than two days? She can help dig and plant for her family as well. Look how well she did this morning.’

  Waving to Rose, who was beckoning them from the back door, George walked away without replying. It irked Elenor when he ignored her question about taking Rose with him and Victoria. They were the oddest parents. She wished she could take Rose with her after Christmas, but it was a lot of responsibility running a farm and looking after someone else’s child.