The Forgotten Orphan: The heartbreaking and gripping World War 2 historical novel

by Glynis Peters

  Maisie chose humour to cover her sadness and earned herself a gentle thump of the arm.

  ‘We’ve brought someone with us. He’s hungover and waiting for us to say our goodbyes. He’s a bit of a strange one and normally I’d hold him off at arm’s length, but when he said he’d known you since you were little and used to live here, I made an exception.’

  Maisie peered around Charlie’s arm, and Simon waved from the back of the truck.

  ‘Don’t let this one overshadow the Canadian. Cam’s the reliable sort,’ Charlie whispered as he pulled her in for another friendly hug.

  ‘Thanks, Charlie. I’ll be fine. You take care.’ Maisie gave him a brief peck on the cheek, and waved to Charlie’s dad, as Simon got out of the truck and joined her in waving them off.

  ‘Lovely family. Good friend to you, I hear. Nice,’ Simon said.

  ‘Enjoy the beer?’ Maisie said with a wide grin.

  ‘Too much. Good job I’m not sailing today,’ Simon replied and turned to face the main building. ‘Nothing’s changed. Still large and grey. Still looks like the old workhouse. The garden looks good though. That your chap over there? The one having a rough time?’

  Simon waved to Billy.

  ‘Want a cuppa?’ Maisie asked.

  Simon screwed up his nose and shook his head.

  ‘No ta. Let’s have a stroll around for old times’ sake.’

  ‘The old tree is still there,’ Maisie said and pointed beyond the building towards the oak tree they’d sat under as children.

  ‘Let’s go and sit a while. My head’s killing me.’

  Enjoying the welcome shade of the tree, they sat and reminisced. The sadness of Charlie leaving was replaced by the joy of having another friend beside her again.

  ‘Why did you stop writing, Si?’

  ‘Matron told my guardians it was for the best if we didn’t communicate anymore. It was upsetting you far too much.’

  Maisie gave a sharp intake of breath.

  ‘That old witch. I begged her to find you. She told me you’d moved and I was to forget you. I kept writing to your old address but I bet she didn’t post the letters. I had no money for stamps and she took the letters off me saying she’d drop them in the postbox!’

  ‘It wasn’t great with them … the new parents. They were just biding their time until I left. Not sure why they took me on, to be honest, but they claimed they knew my mother and wanted to do right by me.’

  Maisie jumped to her feet.

  ‘Come with me. I’ve got something to show you.’

  Entering her home, Simon looked about.

  ‘Cosy. You live here on your own?’

  ‘I do. It’s small, but it’s my sanctuary after a day over there,’ Maisie said, nodding her head in the direction of the main house.

  ‘I couldn’t imagine living here again. Too claustrophobic. Not this place specifically, but the whole way of life. The Navy is tough but I have support. Here, all I got was grief. I don’t think I’ve ever been so miserable as I was living as an orphan.’

  ‘You were luckier than me, that’s for certain. Thank goodness we had each other for those few years. It’s an unbearable life to live alone.’ Maisie let out a sigh.

  ‘I bet,’ Simon said.

  ‘Look. In my file. This is the picture I spoke of last night. Two babies.’

  ‘Yes. I see. I wonder why Matron kept it with your things. Might be your mum with her other kids.’ Simon peered closely at the photograph.

  Maisie said nothing.

  ‘Sorry. That was clumsy of me.’

  Simon sat on one of the seats. He patted the cushion beside him. Maisie glanced at the clock. She’d completed all her chores in every house and no one ever chased her for jobs. She was a free agent for the rest of the day.

  ‘Come and sit down, Maisie. Let’s catch up some more. Snuggle up like we used to in the dark days.’

  Maisie shook her head. ‘I’ll sit here. I’ve a feeling it will be safer.’ She laughed.

  ‘Spoilsport. I’m famished; have you got anything to feed a starving sailor with?’

  Maisie cooked him an omelette and they shared a bottle of beer that Simon produced from his kit bag. It hadn’t occurred to her that the day had drifted into night as they sat chatting. She’d unconsciously drawn the blackout curtains, but never registered the time until she yawned sometime later and glanced at the clock. It was nearly midnight! But Simon showed no indication that he was about to leave, nor mentioned where he was staying.

  She rose from her seat.

  ‘I’m tired,’ she said and yawned again.

  Simon stretched his arms above his head and arched his back.

  ‘Me too. We’ve done a fair bit of chatting.’

  ‘It’s late. Where are you staying?’ Maisie asked and looked towards his kit bag.

  ‘My leave finishes midday tomorrow,’ Simon said.

  Maisie cocked her head to one side.

  ‘That’s not what I asked. Where are your lodgings?’

  Simon shook his head. ‘No lodgings.’

  ‘Well, where are you going to stay?’

  ‘Here. Where else?’

  The hairs on Maisie’s arms tingled upright. She could see by his face that he’d planned to stay with her all along.

  ‘You can’t stay here. I’ll get thrown out. Rules. I can’t just have sailors dropping by and staying over. Think about it.’

  Maisie pointed to his bag and then to the door.

  ‘You need to leave. Sorry Simon, but that’s the way it is.’

  ‘Come on, Maize.’

  ‘It’s Maisie to you. Only Charlie calls me Maize.’

  Still seated, Simon patted the seat again.

  ‘Sit down and we’ll work something out.’

  Maisie turned away and went into the small porchway to the staircase.

  ‘I’ll fetch you a blanket and pillow. You can stay there until five. I’ll wake you and you will leave by the side entrance, across the allotments.’

  Simon gave a belly laugh and flung out his arms.

  ‘As bossy as always. I might have changed, but you haven’t. I used to listen to every word and do as I was told, but tonight … tonight, I want to stay with you, to hold you, and take with me part of you. War is cruel, Maisie. I could be dead tomorrow.’

  ‘And?’ Maisie asked, a bitter taste forming in her mouth. Suddenly, Simon sickened her and she needed to get rid of him. She’d clung onto a childhood friendship that had nowhere to go, and it had to stop before it became an ugly nightmare.

  Shoving back his shoulders and giving her a look of deliberately not understanding, Simon took a step towards her.

  ‘And I want us to share moments we’ll treasure forever.’

  ‘Forever? Moments to treasure? Really, Simon? You are a sailor and, as naïve as I am, I know when I’m being led up the path of morning regret. My nursing friends warned me about men … about boys like you. One also taught me about the dangers of falling for sweet-talking servicemen. Sleep or go, Simon, they are your choices, but do not abuse the friendship we once had by ridiculous propositions of making memories before you ship out. As I say, sleep or go. Goodnight.’

  Maisie gave Simon no further opportunity to speak and instead climbed the stairs to bed. His silence said it all. His interest in her as a young childhood friend no longer existed. He wanted to move into her present and she wasn’t prepared to let him. Her desperate weakness of wanting to be loved meant she had to step away, to let him go. It wasn’t him she wanted, it was the boy he had once been, the reminder that at some point in her life she had meant something to someone, that she had lived and felt something.

  She heard movement, and then the familiar creak of her front door opening and click as it shut. The crunch of his feet on the pathway told her he’d chosen to leave by the main entrance.

  Simon was gone, gone from her life, and Maisie knew it was forever.

  ‘Ah, Maisie. You have a visitor. I’ve put him in the q
uiet room; there’s nobody in there as the men are all eating breakfast.’ A male orderly, who some suspected was a conscientious objector but who was nonetheless good at his job, found Maisie storing fresh linen in the laundry cupboard.

  ‘Visitor?’ she asked, but the man had already left by the time she’d climbed down from her ladder.

  Patting her hair into some form of neatness, and removing her working pinafore, she wondered who else could be seeking her out. With trepidation, she stepped inside the room and found herself face-to-face with Cam. Her heart upped its pace.

  She went to speak but he raised both hands in a semi-surrender position.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t ask permission to visit you … again, and I’m not lost this time, but it is all a bit last minute.’

  Maisie indicated a seat across the room but Cam remained standing.

  ‘I can’t stay long. I have to leave this afternoon and don’t know when I’ll be back. I couldn’t leave without trying to steal another kiss.’ Cam laughed and took a step towards her.

  Emboldened by his forward proposal and with the knowledge that she might never see him again, Maisie raised her eyes to his and gave a soft smile of encouragement. Simon had taught her a precious lesson. Cam meant more to her than a friend. This was a relationship she wanted to develop. Adult Maisie was ready to embrace him into her life.

  ‘You don’t have to steal, Cam,’ she said, her voice barely a whisper.

  He stepped forward and Maisie stood there, unsure what to do next but before she could make up her mind, she felt his arms fold around her and his breath flutter across the top of her head.

  He stroked her cheek and ran his finger across her lips. Maisie lifted her face to his, indicating permission, and he accepted it in the form of a kiss so firm she had no doubt about what he might feel for her. Maisie returned the passion until they drew back from one another, breathless. They stood in silence. Eventually, Cam reached out and took her by the hand.

  ‘I want you to know I won’t – don’t – have a girl in each town I visit. Maisie, I want you to be my girl. My someone to think about when times get tough. Someone I carry deep inside here, someone to give me a reason to live,’ Cam said and patted his chest over his heart.

  Maisie’s heart skipped a beat. Her moment had arrived. She had met the man she wanted to share her life with. Oh, she knew that the war and the fact he was not a British citizen might prove a barrier at some point in the future but now wasn’t the time to fret over that. Maisie pressed herself back into his arms and raised her face to his for another kiss.

  When they pulled back from the soft, tender embrace, Maisie smiled at him.

  ‘You know where I am, and if you can, write to me. Let me know you’re safe. Always let me know you’re safe. I’ll stay here. This is my place until the war is over and you’ll know where to find me when you’re on leave again. I’ll wait for you, Cam. I’ll be here. I’ll be your reason.’

  Cam embraced her again. ‘I’ll come for you. I promise, Maisie.’

  Maisie nodded. She knew tears were close and she didn’t want to make a fool of herself. She wanted Cam to remember the image of her smiling back at him.

  ‘I think you should go now, Cam. I’ve work to do and I’m sure you have a lot to do yourself.’

  ‘Don’t dismiss me, Maisie.’

  ‘I’m not dismissing you, Cam! I’m protecting you from these blooming tears. See, now they’ve started. Kiss me and go, but make sure you keep your promise. Stay safe and come back to me, Cam.’

  Maisie stood at the bottom of the driveway and watched Cam walk away. She imagined his back at the sink once again, and shivered with pleasure. Cam’s presence caused a need in her to blossom that she couldn’t describe. Simon unsettled her, worried her with his presence, something Cam had never done. Knowing she’d made the right choice, when Cam turned and waved, she blew him a kiss. He was her man, and she prayed he would come home safely.

  CHAPTER 16

  Activity in the main convalescing building was frantic. A member of staff had forgotten themselves and left the radio on, and two patients heard the news of Japan attacking Pearl Harbour, and the United States entering the war. Britain declared war on Japan, and the two former soldiers raced around issuing orders to prepare for attack. This in turn set off a flurry of fear amongst other patients and the bedridden. Those whose minds could no longer cope with the outside world, hid under beds. The building entered a state of chaos.

  Maisie joined in with the care and comfort by leading Billy off to the potting shed; it was his safe haven where she knew she could leave him alone. As she strode back to the main building, she was called by one of the volunteer nursing aids, to sit at the bedside of one man in building three. He was determined to get out despite having lost both legs, and the staff member was needed elsewhere. The men called out to her from their beds and Maisie pacified them as best she could. The noise reverberated from room to room in the house as the news filtered through.

  Maisie’s hatred of the war grew the more every day. Across the sea, in enemy territory, there probably sat a girl nursing a wounded man much as she was and feeling the same way. Everyone’s lives had been touched in some way. But feelings of helplessness and fear were no longer in her repertoire; their places had been taken by courage and strength. Understanding the details and logistics of where the fights were going on in the world was of no interest to Maisie. Her battle was here, at Holly Bush, helping to rebuild the lives of the soldiers in her care. The aftermath of war was her battlefield. It was wrong to ignore what was going on and she never shied away from listening to the news or asking how Britain fared, but Maisie couldn’t allow herself to focus on the rotten core of it all. If she did, she knew she would start down the rocky road of fear and she couldn’t bear to lose Cam at the start of what promised to be a wonderful romance.

  For two hours, medical staff checked and monitored the distressed men and Maisie assisted wherever she could. By the end of the afternoon, some form of normality had returned and Maisie was given instructions to take the radio home with her to prevent the patients hearing it and suffering further panic episodes.

  The following morning, she was instructed to take a break away from Holly Bush House as a reward for going above and beyond her duties; she also needed recovery time, she was told. Maisie decided to take the opportunity to visit Charlie’s parents and arrived just as Charlie’s dad was leaving for duty.

  ‘Hello girl, come for a natter with Joyce? She’s inside. Wife’s at work. Joyce is lonely; she’ll be happy to see you.’

  Maisie, puzzled as to why Joyce wasn’t at work, knocked on the door.

  A pale-faced Joyce answered.

  ‘Maisie. Come in. Lovely to see you.’

  Joyce moved slowly into the kitchen, and Maisie joined her. The house smelled of disinfectant and fresh linen. Maisie watched as Joyce slowly folded clean bed linen and was surprised to see that she didn’t present as her usual bustling self. Maisie picked up the corner of a sheet and helped with the folding.

  ‘Are you ill, Joyce? You don’t look well,’ she said.

  Joyce dropped her hands to her abdomen and curved them over a small mound.

  ‘Kind of. I’m pregnant and am constantly dizzy or sick.’

  A wide smile lit up her face, but soon left as she went pale and reached out for a chair.

  Maisie rushed to her side and guided her into a seat.

  ‘A baby! What wonderful news. I bet Charlie is thrilled. Oh, congratulations.’

  A sudden wail of distress came from Joyce and it made Maisie jump. She watched as Joyce pulled a crumpled handkerchief from her apron pocket. She blew into it with such force Maisie feared for the baby.

  ‘Why all the tears? Surely you’re happy, Joyce. It’s a baby. It’s a shining light in all the gloom nowadays. You clever things. Congratulations!’

  Joyce gave a huff of a laugh. She stood up and went to the stove, switched it on, and indicated to Maisie to sit
down.

  ‘I’m happy. Of course I’m happy. Charlie doesn’t know I’m suffering. I’ve written to him but I haven’t mentioned how unwell I am because I don’t want him to worry. He’s got enough on his plate. The Engineers will be moved because of Britain declaring war on Finland, Romania, and Hungary, according to his dad. What with yesterday, and the announcement that we are at war with Japan now, I don’t think he’ll ever come home!’

  A further bout of sobbing ensued, and Maisie found it hard to control her own tears. She put her arm around Joyce to comfort her and thought of Cam, and what it might mean for him.

  ‘I’ve got news of my own. Cam – my Canadian friend as you call him – well, we kissed. It was a while ago, but with Charlie leaving I didn’t like to talk about our relationship as it might have upset you,’ she said shyly.

  Joyce grinned. ‘At last. But, don’t get carried away when he comes home. Bide your time for such things. Get married and have a life together after the war. It’s heartbreaking doing it this way.’

  Joyce stroked her bump absentmindedly.

  ‘You regret marrying Charlie?’ Maisie asked.

  ‘No, silly. I regret falling in love with a man who had to leave and fight a war. What people don’t know, is we had to get married ‘cos I was pregnant. Sadly, I lost it, but this one is hanging on for dear life, thank goodness, I just wish it didn’t make me feel so sick. After Charlie’s last leave I had an inkling I’d fall again, and well, here is the evidence.’ Joyce patted her pregnant belly again, her joy evident.

  Maisie felt her face flush.

  ‘Oh, I see. The baby is why you married. But you would have married him anyway, so what’s the problem?’

  ‘Not being together. That’s the problem. I miss him so much.’

  No longer wanting to see Joyce in such distress, Maisie suggested they go for a walk. Joyce declined.

  ‘The air will do you good.’

  ‘I’m not strong enough to get to the end of the road. I keep fainting. Charlie’s mum got me a piece of liver the other day because she thinks I need iron in my blood. I tried to keep it down, but this little one threw it back. I’ll be fine, Maisie. Come and see me again, but don’t sit here waiting for another smile. I’ve not many to give at the moment.’