‘Still with us?’ Cam asked with concern in his voice.
Her coughing subsided but the tears still trailed their way to her chin. She dabbed them away with her handkerchief.
‘Sorry. Bubbles. They reminded me of my brother,’ she managed to gasp.
Cam gave her back a gentle tap and returned to his seat.
The noise on the dancefloor subsided and a trail of children were ushered towards the door. The party for them was at an end. For a brief moment in their little lives they’d been able to let off steam and forget the war. Maisie knew they would wake the following morning and take a long journey into another new and bewildering life.
‘Poor little things. It’s so sad. Soon they will leave their loving parents and it will be so hard on them. I can’t remember my parents but I have vague memories of being left at the orphanage and it was frightening,’ Maisie said, shrugging her cardigan closer around her shoulders.
Cam looked at her and leaned his head to one side in question.
‘Oh, I thought you worked at the orphanage, or maybe you were the daughter of someone who worked there. I didn’t realise the orphanage was your home. I’m sorry,’ Cam said.
‘Sorry for what? For not knowing I’m an orphan?’
‘For you losing your parents, or for them perhaps not wanting you,’ Cam said.
His words jolted her. She’d often wondered about her background and the reason she’d been sent to an orphanage but she’d never heard anyone say it, other than when Norah had spat it out as a cruel taunt.
‘They might have wanted me – us, Jack and I were … are twins. I really don’t know. I just say it, but who knows, maybe they couldn’t keep me. I’m sure they are – or my mum at least, isn’t dead. I have a vague recollection of someone who may have been our mother from before the orphanage, although it is a blur of a memory really,’ Maisie said and shrugged.
‘I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry. Let’s change the subject.’
Willing to drop the subject and not go through the painful process of explaining that her brother Jack had been wanted but not her, Maisie settled back into her seat.
‘What’s Canada like? Is it much different to Britain?’ Maisie asked and took a careful sip of her drink.
‘It’s large. Filled with beautiful mountain ranges. I’m from a small village in British Columbia called Lions Bay. It’s at the bottom of two mountain peaks, mostly known as the Two Sisters. I live near the sea, which I love. I did think about joining the Navy like my older brother but I would much rather sail for fun, which we often do – did – as a family during the summer months. My sister is around the same age as you and she’s a war-office typist. Mom keeps house and Pops is an engineer and is busy with helping the war effort,’ Cam said. Maisie noticed the wistful look in his eye when he spoke of home and family.
‘Is it a hot country?’ she asked.
‘In the summer. Cold in the winter. Colder than England. Deep snow – and I mean deep.’
Cam intrigued her and she was determined to find out more about him. He showed no sign of wanting to leave so she continued asking her questions.
‘What is it you do over there?’
‘I’m proud to say I’m now a paratrooper both in Canada and England. I’ve passed all the tests the British have thrown at us and I’m attached to a unit here. They sure know how to work us hard. Jumping from planes is the easy part. You Brits have grit, I can tell you.’
Wide-eyed, Maisie stared at him.
‘My goodness, I think you paratroopers must have a lot of grit too, if you have to jump from planes. Why on earth would you want to do that? I can’t think of anything I’d enjoy less!’
‘It’s exhilarating. What more can I say? It’s something I have to do. What do you do in your spare time, Maisie?’
Maisie thought for a moment. She had nothing to offer which would interest him. No leaping from plane moments.
‘I make tea for the firefighters,’ she said.
Cam nodded in approval. ‘And?’
‘That’s it. I don’t get a lot of spare time now the nurses have moved in, and before that I was busy with the orphan children. I certainly didn’t have time to go sailing, but what little I had or have, I fill by helping others. I get a lot of pleasure out of helping people,’ she said with a shy smile.
‘Is there anything particular you’d like to do?’ Cam asked.
Rubbing her finger around the rim of her glass, she smiled up at him.
‘I’d like to improve my writing. Maybe write stories or poems one day.’
Cam gave a slight frown.
‘Why don’t you now?’
‘I don’t know. It seems a waste of valuable time sitting around writing. I’d feel guilty.’
‘Chase your dreams. Never feel guilty for wanting to improve your life, Maisie.’
Maisie smiled. ‘I hold back because I think I need to have more life experiences to write about. I’ve led a sheltered life. Nothing exciting has happened for me to … well, to feel, and the poetry I’ve read has deep, powerful meaning. It’s uplifting.’
Drawing breath and taking another sip of her drink, Maisie hoped she’d not bored Cam and searched his face for a sign he was ready to walk away. It pleased her when she saw him settle back into his seat and cross his legs.
‘Poems don’t always have to be uplifting. They can be melancholy or mood-altering.’
‘I can alter moods, that’s for sure,’ Maisie quipped back and Cam gave a laugh.
‘You have to have confidence in yourself. Besides, why not write poems? You don’t have to show them to anyone. Do something for yourself. Write about past lovers.’
Maisie was thankful she didn’t have a mouthful of drink when she burst out laughing. She clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle more giggles that were threating their way forward.
‘Did I say something funny?’ Cam asked.
‘Past lovers? The last time I was kissed was a peck on the lips when I was twelve. Yes, you said something funny.’ A flush of embarrassment washed over Maisie. The reference to her innocent and lonely past made her fear that he saw her as a child rather than a young woman. She rose from her seat. ‘I think I’d best pay attention to the children. That’s why I’m here, to make sure they all get back home safely.’ She smiled.
As she walked past his chair, Cam reached out and grabbed her hand, and when Maisie went to pull away, he drew her closer. Without warning, Cam placed his lips on hers and sent a wave of nerve-tingling flashes around her body. It was a soft kiss – but plenty powerful enough to take her breath away. She felt the warmth of his body through her clothing and enjoyed the comforting embrace he offered. She knew what was beneath his shirt and she let her imagination run riot.
Cam released her from his arms.
‘I hope that helps towards your poetry. I confess it would have happened anyway; you gave me the perfect excuse to steal a kiss. I’m also leaving in the morning. I’ve another important training session and I’m not sure when I’ll return.’
Maisie’s heart skipped a few beats, before a feeling of sadness swept over her. She touched her lips.
‘It was … inspirational. I’ve never met a kiss thief before,’ she said.
Cam bowed theatrically. ‘Always willing to inspire, ma’am.’
With disappointment, she saw Charlie heading their way, and before the conversation was not hers alone, she leapt at an opportunity.
‘Write to me. Would you write and tell me how you’re getting along, please? I never get letters and I hate it when the postman delivers to everyone else. It’s a purely selfish request I know, but it would mean a lot. Address it to Holly Bush, Shirley; it will find me.’
Cam nodded. ‘It would be my honour. I’ll do what I can.’
Feeling foolish for asking, Maisie gave him a wan smile.
‘Of course, only if you’re not too busy jumping from planes.’
One of the nurses waved her over and she waved back
. It was time to leave if she was to get a ride back home with the nurses.
‘Thanks for a lovely time,’ Maisie smiled at Cam.
‘Anytime, and thanks for the kiss,’ Cam said with a cheeky wink, and before Maisie had the opportunity to say another goodbye, he walked away.
‘Have fun?’ Charlie asked as he joined her and the nurses who were saying their own farewells to new acquaintances.
‘I did. Joyce not here?’ Maisie hoped her flushed face didn’t give away her response to Cam’s kiss. Her body still tingled with excitement. It was a new sensation which, if asked to explain, she’d struggle to describe. It was like the ending of a loud piece of music, the heart-pounding moment when you waited for the cymbals to crash against each other bringing the pleasure to its crescendo. For Maisie there was no question that she wanted more.
‘Powdering her nose. Scratch that, here she is.’
Joyce and Maisie embraced.
‘I see you had a good time. Even better than the kiddies, I think,’ Joyce said and nudged Maisie’s ribs.
‘I had a nice time, yes, thanks,’ Maisie said, embarrassed that she and Cam had been spotted kissing.
When it became obvious that the nurses were lingering and her lift was to be delayed, Charlie offered her a lift home. Not wanting to sit around alone, she accepted.
As they reached Charlie’s truck, a soldier called out to Maisie.
‘See you around, Red.’
Buoyed up with the excitement of being with Cam, Maisie gave her hair a flirtatious flick, mimicking the nurses earlier, and called out to the group of soldiers from where the voice had shouted out from.
‘Not if I see you first, soldier.’
The moment the words were out of her mouth she regretted them because she saw Cam smoking a cigarette, watching her. She gave him a wave, but he never returned it. Her heart sank when she saw him frown, throw the cigarette stub to the floor, and grind it out before walking away.
Maisie kicked herself for playing the fool. Cam looked hurt and she regretted her actions. Now she looked cheap and easy, ready to throw herself at any man who looked her way.
Charlie, keen on getting home before it got dark in case there was another bombing raid, urgently tugged her arm and pulled her up into the seat of the truck. He had a theory about the flying times of the enemy, and often boasted about his accuracy. As they rumbled their way out of the garrison, Maisie looked out of the window, desperately hoping to see Cam again, but the gates opened and they pulled out into the road ahead, leaving the base behind.
A deep-seated confusion set in. Was this feeling she had inside, the one creating rippling waves of excitement whenever she thought of Cam, lust? Was he interested in her or did he see this as an opportunity to seduce a British girl? Would he write to her? Her mind buzzed with questions.
Once home, she removed her dress and pulled on her dressing gown. A cup of cocoa and a good night’s sleep would round off the evening, and she hoped the image of disappointment in Cam’s face as he walked away would disappear. She touched her lips and recalled his kiss.
What she wouldn’t give for another …
CHAPTER 12
No sooner had she got into bed with her cocoa than the sirens sounded outside and the thought of leaving her comfortable position was most definitely a negative one. Snuggling under the blankets, she tried to ignore the high-pitched squeals and flashing lights filtering across the sky from behind her blackout curtains. She tried to shut out everything that was disturbing her thoughts of Cam and his earlier kindness when he’d held her close. However, the barking instructions outside in the yard that came from Captain Bloom and included her name made her fully aware that her presence in the shelter was expected with immediate effect.
Tugging on her outdoor shoes and grabbing her bag of assorted sewing, knitting, books, and a pack of cards, Maisie headed outside.
‘Thank you for putting in the effort to join us, Miss Reynolds.’
Maisie said nothing to feed the sarcasm of the captain. She hesitated before entering the shelter, but soon ducked her head when the captain nudged her forward.
‘Inside, girl. Find a seat.’
Maisie made herself as comfortable as she could on a bench beside a nurse she’d only nodded at once in the past.
‘Not a fan of enclosed spaces. You?’ the young woman asked, inhaling and exhaling at an alarming rate.
‘No, I’m not a fan either, and I hate this shelter,’ Maisie said with feeling.
‘Yes, the raids are getting more and more frequent. I’m Pat, by the way.’
‘Maisie, and I spent time down here before the raids. Before the war,’ Maisie muttered.
Pat gave her a quizzical look then nodded.
‘Of course, you lived here before we came, didn’t you? Was this a storeroom?’
Maisie didn’t reply straight away. She tried to control the hammering in her chest which had started when they entered.
‘A staff member was killed outside by a stray bomb and I had to lay her to rest in here until she was taken away. I used to be shut in here as a punishment if I’d upset our first matron. On my own, in the dark, from the age of four.’ Maisie’s eyes followed the flickering shadows around the wall. ‘It’s not my most favourite place to spend an evening. The other shelter is far too small though and we’d never fit inside.’
Aware that the talking inside the shelter had stopped, she looked about and noticed all the faces were looking at her. Maisie’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment. The captain coughed loudly, clearing her throat in readiness to speak.
‘Most of you won’t be aware of Miss Reynolds’s position here. Until recently, this was her home. We’ve invaded and moved her around without thought. It’s nobody’s fault, but if we are to blame the circumstances then the blame must be laid at the door of the enemy.’
Mutterings of agreement echoed around the shelter. The captain waited until they’d stopped. Maisie kept her head down, looking at her scuffed shoes, comparing them to the shining ones of Pat.
‘All we can do now is offer compassion to those who will be joining us, and friendship to young Miss Reynolds here. She’s been landed with the task of housekeeping for us. It is a monumental task which, I’m sure you will agree, she’s performing admirably. Open your doors and your hearts to her and you will find ironed sheets will always be yours. Am I correct, Miss Reynolds?’
Giggles rumbled around the shelter.
Grateful that the captain had lightened the mood and broken down the awkward barrier that Maisie had built between the nurses and herself by being shy and unsure, she lifted her head and smiled.
‘If you have any mending, my door is always open. And if anyone could tell me what to do with this, I would be eternally grateful,’ she said and touched her hair.
‘Nothing. I’d do nothing. You’ve got a beautiful style which suits you and the colour is gorgeous,’ one nurse gushed.
The rest of the nurses shared their agreement, and Maisie found it strange to have praise heaped upon her in such a way.
‘It’s frizzy and orange. She’s just being polite,’ Maisie mumbled to Pat.
‘Nonsense. It might have been in the past, but you have a lovely head of hair now. I’d die for curls like that. It must take you hours to rag it and keep it that way,’ Pat said.
‘Rag it? I don’t do anything with it. I wash it on a Saturday and just leave it to dry,’ Maisie replied.
‘Girls, listen to this. Those curls,’ Pat pointed to Maisie’s head, ‘are natural. Can you believe the luck of the girl?’
The hours ticked by until the all-clear rang out at 1.35am. The captain released them all to their quarters and Maisie raced back to her little cottage. She gave a satisfied smile as she caught a glimpse of her red curls in the mirror and mused over what comments the other girls would have made had they seen her hair when she was little.
The following morning, she sought out the captain and requested a meeting. It was time to find o
ut more about the job she was supposed to be fully aware of, and who was employing her. The captain appeared to have the answers, judging by her statement last night, and Maisie needed to know her future was secure, or to find out her options regarding leaving Holly Bush House.
An hour later, neither she nor the captain were any the wiser. The captain had thought Maisie’s recruitment had been organised by one authority but a telephone call proved that not to be the case, and Maisie had assumed she was employed by the group of local government men who’d visited to sort the requisitioning of the building.
It appeared that Maisie had not had her name registered on any legal papers relating to the orphanage, which, as she pointed out to the captain, would account for her empty file.
‘This is an unusual situation, Maisie. You need to fetch me your birth certificate for our records. I’ve also noticed that you’re not registered for rations here. In the meantime, I’ll make a formal enquiry about the process of getting you listed as a member of our civilian workforce. You need a salary and food allowance, for goodness’ sake,’ the captain said and raised her hands outwards in a frantic, frustrated manner.
‘When the army arrived, they put me on the new Holly Bush ration list, so I know I’m registered somewhere. Where will I get my birth certificate from?’ Maisie asked.
‘Don’t you have it? Everyone has a birth certificate.’
With a slow shake of her head and a pinching of her lips, Maisie confirmed the negative. ‘As I said, my file is empty.’
‘Well, who does have it?’
‘I’ve no idea. I can’t think who might hold it for me. I’ve no clue about my parents and my twin has a new family.’
The captain moved across to the door and held it open. ‘I’ll do my best for you, Maisie. We can get a copy, I’m sure, but it takes so long that you’d be retired by the time it arrives. In the meantime, keep up the good work here. We’ll watch over you.’
The Forgotten Orphan: The heartbreaking and gripping World War 2 historical novel Page 10
