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

by Glynis Peters

  CHAPTER 26

  1943

  Holly Bush House

  January 1st, 1943

  My dearest Cam,

  Christmas came and went with a little drama but no let-up in the war, as I’m sure you are fully aware. Silly of me to mention it! Merry Christmas, my darling.

  I sang in church on Christmas Eve with the choir and I sang my heart out for you. It was followed by a brief visit from Simon, who is out of prison.

  He saw Coleen’s wedding dress and assumed you and I were getting married. It was a bit of a weird moment to say the least. I think he’d been drinking. I sent him packing and fingers crossed he’ll not repeat the visit.

  I’m making a christening gown for Archie out of leftover material from Coleen’s dress. It’s sad Charlie isn’t here to see his son. Going by the babe’s measurements, he’s going to be tall like his daddy.

  Oh, Cam, life just doesn’t seem fair. Simon runs amuck without a care and we are fighting a war that keeps us apart. Dear Charlie lost his life fighting for us and Joyce seems content enough, but it must hurt her to be so alone.

  Oh, guess what I had as a gift from Joyce’s brother – a banana! If I could have eaten the skin I would have done. It was a delicious surprise. I’m sitting nibbling on a large piece of Christmas fruit cake Charlie’s mum sent for me and am feeling rather spoilt. I am relaxed and comfortable but always feel there is something missing. Oh, I know. It’s you!

  I long for the day when we can relax and enjoy our love with no interruptions by this wretched war.

  My love always,

  Maisie

  Holly Bush House

  January 8th, 1943

  Dearest Cam,

  I pray you are safe. Thank you for the Christmas drawing. You are very talented, and the little Robin is perfect. I hope he always keeps you company.

  Ted and Coleen had a splendid wedding day and Coleen has applied to return to Ireland to be with her family until after the baby is born, then she will move to Canada. I’ll miss her so much.

  I haven’t had time to write poetry lately. I’ve been so busy with making baby items for both Joyce and Coleen.

  As always, I send my love. I look forward to your next round of leave. I miss you so much.

  Maisie

  The months rolled by and April arrived with startling speed, bringing with it sporadic bouts of spring sunshine and drizzle. Maisie’s heart ached with wanting news from Cam, but letters often arrived months after being written. She’d taken to sending him several in a week, whenever a thought came to her, she shared it as it made her feel closer to him.

  Gardening with Billy was a relaxing activity for Maisie. Both were keen on growing their own food and they were succeeding in abundance. When the first of the lettuce leaves broke through, there were great celebrations that the slugs had left them alone. The simplest things brought so much joy to Billy and it rubbed off onto Maisie. She found his company suited her need to unwind, much more so than going to dances with the nurses.

  As the months moved along into a hot summer, Maisie’s concerns for Cam grew. Planes flew back and forth, but fortunately Southampton suffered no further heavy attacks. Maisie wished she could find out where Cam was but she had no connections to anyone who could help her. Ted didn’t have a clue – although she suspected he was holding back protected information – and Charlie’s dad pointed out that they were hardly going to hand over sensitive information to a girlfriend.

  She’d still had no news from Cam other than the Christmas drawing from 1942, which sat in a frame on her dresser next to her bed. On her twenty-first birthday, a day which slid into the rest with no great fuss, she and Joyce spent an hour together and a handful of colleagues presented her with small posy of flowers.

  Her shifts were longer each day as more and more injured men needed her encouragement and support to get well again. But their screams or prolonged silences stayed with Maisie long after she’d settled down to sleep. At one time Cam’s past letters kept her company and soothed her but the frustration of not knowing if he was injured or dead meant they’d become painful reminders of what might have been. Maisie feared she was losing hold on her dream of becoming his wife and found it hard to hold back her dread. Work became her main focus.

  One afternoon, she sat recording the successes of a patient who was recovering well, when she heard a colleague calling her name. She rose from her chair and peered out into the corridor. A nurse pointed to the front entrance.

  ‘You’ve a visitor. A sailor. Says his name is Michael Weatherfield and he’s been sent by a friend,’ she called with a beaming smile and pointed outside.

  Curious, Maisie walked down the corridor and turned into the entrance porch. She suspected that Simon was in some kind of trouble and wanted her to bail him out. His unpredictable reappearances in her small world felt very much like an invasion.

  She smiled at the sailor in front of her. ‘Michael Weatherfield? I’m Maisie Reynolds. Is this about Simon?’

  The man could only be described as handsome. He was certainly physically attractive, standing there with his legs astride, his arms behind his back, looking clean and tidy in full uniform. His face was cleanshaven and looked fresh and healthy. His smile was wide and there was something familiar about him. Maisie gave a small frown.

  ‘Yes. Simon sent me in this direction, via another shipmate. I ignored the message at first, but something my parents told me before I left home resonated with me, and a letter to them from a local government department confirmed it all for me. I think I’m your brother.’

  Warily, Maisie forced a smile back onto her face. She looked him up and down.

  ‘Gracious,’ she said, not entirely convinced of his story. If Simon had been involved, she wasn’t sure she could trust what she was hearing; he was not a reliable friend.

  ‘What makes you think that’s the case?’ she asked, her voice blunt and suspicious.

  ‘My parents told me I was adopted. They said, with me going to war, they felt it only fair I went knowing the truth about my background. Apparently, I lived here for a few months before they took me in. It was before I’d turned five. When I told my shipmate, it filtered along the line to a chap who’d also lived here, and well, the official letter asking whether I would be prepared to be found by a sibling arrived and here I am.’

  The sailor took a step forward and Maisie stepped back, clutching her chest. She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. Opening them again, Maisie saw tears nestling on the man’s lashes and, before she could speak, he spread his hands out in front of her.

  ‘You found me,’ he said.

  ‘Jack …’ Maisie whispered.

  Her brother smiled. The familiarity of his features suddenly became obvious. He had her smile, her eyes and lips, but his hair was sandy rather than deep red. ‘I only know the name Michael, but Jack sounds right when you say it, so we’ll go with Jack.’

  Neither could move.

  ‘I think we need to talk,’ Jack said, his voice soft.

  ‘I’m just about to finish my shift, so I’ll let them know I’m off duty and meet you back here in a minute,’ Maisie said and rushed to sign herself off.

  The nurse who’d announced Jack’s arrival stopped her before she left the building.

  ‘Enjoy your time with your man. I’ve always had a soft spot for a sailor, and he’s a looker.’

  Maisie grinned at her. ‘I’ll pass that along. He’s my brother.’

  The nurse gave an appreciative smile.

  ‘It’s my lucky day. Tell him my name’s Christine,’ the nurse said.

  Outside, Maisie relayed the fact that Jack had caused a stir inside the building.

  ‘Come back to mine. There’s so much to say,’ Maisie offered.

  ‘I’m so grateful you tracked me down, Maisie. My sister, my twin! I always felt I was missing a part of me, but never dreamed it would be … well, you. Now I’m here, I have vague memories of this place, but I had such
a happy life in Suffolk that the memories must have been pushed aside.’

  Maisie sighed loudly. ‘Lucky you. I’m pleased it worked out well for you.’

  Jack stopped in his tracks. ‘That was tactless of me. I saw the address on your letter and realised you’ve never left here.’

  Maisie carried on walking, guiding the way to her front door. ‘This is my home now, not the main house, obviously. Welcome.’

  Seeing Jack standing in her cottage gave Maisie a thrill. She pulled down the photograph of them as toddlers. ‘I have another you can have. This is our mother.’

  Hearing herself say the words was strange. Jack took the picture from her and smiled.

  ‘We look like her, don’t you think?’

  Maisie shrugged. ‘I see it now, but when I looked at it before my focus was only on you.’

  He looked down at the floor. ‘I hate that you had to live all these years knowing about me, remembering, missing me, while I drifted along in a happy daze.’

  Maisie held open her arms and Jack accepted her embrace. They clung to each other for several minutes. All the wrongness Maisie had ever felt in her life melted away. She felt whole again.

  ‘You’re here now and we’ve a lot of catching up to do. We’ve not had a pretty start in life, but you need to hear it, including the reason why we were abandoned. I found out some dreadful things, but I’ll not sugar-coat them; it’s your right to know, same as mine,’ Maisie said.

  Moving her back into his vision, Jack held on to Maisie’s hands and stared intently into her eyes. ‘I’m ready to hear it all.’

  For over an hour they discussed her findings. Jack was shocked as she had been and scrunched his eyes together as if in pain.

  ‘If any good is to come from this, it is that you are a determined, young woman and I am thankful you are my sister, or we’d have remained separated. Never again. Well, sadly we don’t have long together as duty calls, but from now on, we are a pair again. Two halves of a whole.’

  They shared a meagre supper together and chatted about their hopes and dreams, some horrors and nightmares, and Maisie learned that Jack had been renamed Michael Weatherfield. The name didn’t sit right with her, and she knew it never would. Her brother’s name had always been Jack and for her it would never change.

  ‘Be happy, Maisie. I’ll write to you when I can, and please share your news with me, won’t you? We have a short sailing this time around, but I’ve a feeling this war is going to take us more deep-sea than ever.’

  ‘Can I come to see you off?’ Maisie asked.

  Shaking his head, Jack put his finger to his lips and kissed it, then placed it on Maisie’s forehead. ‘I’d rather you didn’t. Let me remember you here, in your uniform, looking every part a nurse. My sister in her little cottage. Let’s take a stroll around and then I must go.’

  ‘I’m far from being a nurse, but maybe one day I’ll train. In the meantime, I like what I do here, and I love my cottage.’

  They walked around the gardens holding hands, and Maisie was reminded of the times they’d done exactly the same as children before being ripped apart.

  Jack broke the silence as they stood beneath a walnut tree.

  ‘Your Canadian … do you love him? I mean, the marrying kind of love?’ he asked.

  Maisie gave a soft, shy smile. ‘Yes, it is that kind of love.’

  ‘Well, sister dear, when the time comes, I’ll give you away. How about that? Do you think that will work?’ Jack asked.

  ‘It would, and it would also make me the happiest bride.’

  Jack glanced at his watch and frowned.

  ‘I’ve got to go. Take care, little sister.’

  Maisie felt a moment of anxiety. She couldn’t bear for him to leave again; it was too soon.

  ‘Enough of the little, if you please. I might be the eldest, who knows? Can’t you stay a bit longer?’

  Maisie knew she sounded needy, but the thought that this might be her only chance to know her brother was too much. What if she lost him again? What if Jack never came back?

  Jack grinned, but it was soon hidden by a serious grimace.

  ‘No. I’d love to stay but I’d be in big trouble. I promise that on my next trip to shore, I’ll make contact and take you back to meet my parents. They’ll adore you. I’ll write to you when I get the chance and leave details of where you can write back.’

  Jack kissed the top of her head. ‘Don’t watch me go. Stay here so I can imagine you in your uniform, under this old tree. A new image to take with me. A happy one.’

  ‘Stay safe, Jack. Now go and make me proud.’ Maisie reached out and touched his hand.

  When Jack was halfway up the drive, Maisie called out to him. She’d ignored his request not to watch him leave.

  ‘Hey, brother. I love you.’

  Jack never turned around but he raised his right arm above his head in a farewell gesture so she knew he’d heard her.

  She looked on with pride as he kept his back straight and walked with dignity. Maisie didn’t cry for him until he was no longer in view. When her tears fell, they were tears of happiness.

  Dearest Cam,

  I had a surprise visitor today …

  Michael Weatherfield of the Royal Navy came to see me. I used to know him when he lived here. Back then I knew him as Jack. Yes, I’ve found my brother! Isn’t it the most wonderful news? I want to sing it from the rooftops and share it with the world. We’ve agreed he’s to remain Jack to me, as there are some things in life you cannot change when they’ve affected you so much. The strangest thing is, that it was Simon who brought us together in rather a roundabout way. I cannot put into words the happiness I feel right now. The joy at knowing I have family and my soul is no longer split in two.

  I’ve so much to tell you about him when you return.

  As always, my love,

  Maisie

  Maisie spent many weeks frantically rearranging the home to accommodate more injured servicemen. She threw herself into the work, giving herself very little time to think about the lack of communication from either Jack or Cam. The war and its reminders brought reality to her door in raw visual waves. The main building and dining quarters were converted from a space for convalescing patients into a proper hospital. The convalescing patients – with the exception of Billy who’d made himself invaluable in the garden, and it was felt that for the sake of his peace of mind he’d best stay – were moved to a nearby mansion house. The owners had opened their doors to accommodate the twenty convalescing men. Meanwhile, back at the newly converted hospital, the injuries which the medical team and volunteers dealt with were extreme. It was sometimes mind boggling how the patient had survived at all.

  She recalled the first time she escorted a patient into Holly Bush House from the ambulance. It took all her strength not to faint. The ambulance driver and doctor gave her a swift glance as she allowed a gasp of horror to escape her lips.

  ‘Keep it to yourself, Maisie. He still has ears that work.’ The doctor’s words were firm with a sympathetic ring to them.

  Determined to get through the event, Maisie pulled her shoulders back and thought of the man beneath the blood and gore which smothered every inch of his body.

  ‘Is it, can it be cleaned?’ she asked.

  The ambulance driver nodded. ‘A lot of superficial blood, the rest the doc here will sort out. You’ll be up and about in no time mate.’ Maisie watched as he redirected his attention back to the patient and doctor.

  ‘He’s a sailor caught in the bombings at the docks, hence the reason he’s here.’ The doctor turned to the patient again. ‘Lucky man, Maisie here is one of our best trainees. She’s going to put her hand on your stomach now and hold on tight until we get you to theatre. Not going to lie, this is going to hurt.’

  He nodded to Maisie and, taking the deepest breath and releasing it slowly, she went to his side.

  ‘Gentle. The long pink tubes are his guts. Lay this wadding across and do not move
your hands once we get moving. Understand?’ Maisie nodded. The patient deserved her full attention, she was ready to give her all. Her foot slipped and she looked down. Her stomach churned at the sight of black mess mingled with red. She glanced at her hands and saw they were covered in much the same. Her hand trembled as she reached out for more wadding to suppress the continuous surge of blood and protect the patient.

  ‘Focus Maisie,’ she said out loud.

  ‘Good girl,’ the ambulance driver whispered as he moved to the end of the stretcher.

  They struggled their way inside the house and when a nurse offered to relieve Maisie, she shook her head. The patient was hers and she wanted to see him through his care.

  ‘Can I stay with him?’ she asked.

  The doctor gave the nurse a few brief instructions to prep the theatre, and followed it through to confirm Maisie was more than capable of assisting.

  ‘If you feel faint in my theatre, walk out. I cannot step over you and the staff will simply leave you there. I need you to do exactly what you are doing, keeping calm and clearheaded. Understood?’

  ‘I’m ready,’ Maisie said, her voice confident and truthful.

  They entered the theatre and once the patient was on the table Maisie rushed to wash her hands. A fresh apron was handed to her and she followed each instruction shouted to her with perfect precision. The sailor fought for his life and his country; she would honour him by fighting by his side until recovery.

  Only once, when the doctor pulled the full intestines out to inspect them, did she feel the rush of blood leave her body, but she dug her fingernails into her palm and imagined Cam requiring the same sort of surgery. She’d want a nurse to be in control of her emotions to help him survive.

  For four hours she mopped large pools of blood from the floor. Her heart went out to the doctor who worked diligently with patience and calm.

  ‘Last stitch, Maisie. We’ve done it. Well done team.’ The doctor beamed at the people around them.