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

by Glynis Peters

  Outside the registry office he waited with Joyce and Charlie’s mother. Charlie’s dad collected Maisie and drove her into Southampton. The exchange of vows and rings was over in minutes and a bemused Mrs Cameron stood holding on to the arm of her husband whilst Charlie’s dad fussed around taking a photograph.

  Back at Joyce’s house, they enjoyed beef-paste sandwiches and cups of tea. Joyce had made a small fruit cake and apologised for the lack of icing. Cam said he was relieved as he didn’t like it anyway, and Maisie made a mental note never to produce it for Christmas cakes of the future. All in all, it was a memorable day, one Maisie knew she’d treasure. The people she had grown to love were all there and it marked the start of a new life for her.

  ‘Joyce, I have a gift for the children,’ Maisie said when Archie ran into Cam’s arms for a swing around for the umpteenth time.

  ‘They have no value other than that they belong to me now, and as my godchildren, I’d like them to have a little something. I own very little and these are inherited pieces.’

  Maisie handed over Jack’s watch that his parents had given her, and the small silver ring she had found in her mother’s box.

  ‘I want you to tell them that I love them and one day I will return to visit. I’ll send photographs of Canada and write to you often. You know how I love writing letters.’ Maisie lifted out another gift wrapped in tissue paper and leaned down to kiss Joyce on the cheek. ‘On that note, this is your gift Joyce, with my love.’

  She watched as Joyce unravelled the twine and paper. Her friend gasped with delight and objected loudly to receiving such a gift when she held out Maisie’s fountain pen.

  ‘It’s another inherited piece of sorts. Don’t think me deprived, Joyce. My husband bought me the most beautiful tortoiseshell one as a wedding gift, and that’s the one I’ll use from now on. Write to me about the children and Charlie’s parents using this pen. It would mean so much to me.’

  When all farewells had been made and promises undertaken not to go to the docks to wave them off because it would only make Maisie cry, Joyce embraced Maisie one last time.

  ‘Be happy, my lovely. He’s a good man and I know you’re doing the right thing. If he were here, Charlie would give you his blessing too.’

  Maisie took a deep breath and smiled at Joyce.

  ‘Charlie would be making plans to get you out there too if it meant he could spend the days fishing.’

  Maisie could not believe she stood on the deck of a ship at Southampton docks, a married woman. And all on her twenty-third birthday. Cam’s flight home seemed like a lifetime ago, not three weeks, and she’d only received one telephone call to say he’d arrived at his uncle’s and all was well … and that she’d better brace herself for surprises.

  During her ten-day journey to Canada, she played over in her mind what the surprises might be. She knew her husband wasn’t going to let her down or allow her to be overwhelmed – he’d promised that much – but as for the rest, he told her she’d have to wait and see; if he told her, they wouldn’t be surprises.

  The journey was tough going. She worked on a floating hospital, and some of the patients’ injuries were nothing in comparison to their seasickness. All strength was sapped from their bodies. Maisie struggled to fight off the nausea and exhaustion herself, all while nursing them through the worst stages. The ship lifted and dropped, dropped and lifted its way into Pier 21, Halifax, Canada. The healthier of the men sang and jollied each other along, and some days the mood was uplifting and joyful. They were going home, and that was something to celebrate when vast numbers of their serving forces had been lost. Maisie had nothing but admiration for them. They told her stories of her new country, what foods and drinks she should try out first, where the best places were in each season and they offered their homes to her and Cam to visit if they found themselves in that particular part of the country.

  When it was announced that they’d arrived, the ten days of exhaustive tension dropped from her shoulders. A pleasant warmth welcomed her to the country and Maisie dashed to the deck to witness her arrival into her new homeland. Her heart pounded, her legs trembled, her hands shook, and she staved off bouts of acid that rose each time they dipped in a wave. Back in her cabin, she removed her uniform, folded it neatly, and stepped into a pretty lemon dress with a white belt and a lace collar. She slipped her feet into new white shoes with a small, chunky heel and brushed her hair into shining waves. There was no doubt in her mind that Cam would be waiting quayside for her, and she wanted to look her best.

  This is it, Maisie Cameron. Your new life is about to begin.

  The war had battered her, the orphanage had taken so much from her, and she had been shocked by the truth of her origins. Happiness had turned to sadness but it had also found a way back into her life. Maisie wondered how she’d managed to survive it all. She knew that until Cam had stepped into her life, her life had been merely an existence, not the vessel of love and hope and joy it was now.

  The moment she stepped off the ship, Maisie was caught in a whirlwind of red tape and document stamping. By the time she’d finished answering the last question presented to her, Maisie feared Cam would see a bewildered, exhausted, and frightened woman in a crumpled dress, rather than the confident wife in a pretty frock she’d hoped to present him with. Pulling her cloth bag close to her and trusting that her trunk would be on the other side of the line, Maisie trundled forward. She’d signed off her last patient and from the moment she crossed that line into Canada, Maisie felt proud that her life as an English orphan had all been about bringing her here for this moment, for this man, and for this new country.

  CHAPTER 33

  ‘Welcome to Canada, Mrs Cameron!’ Cam yelled to her through hands cupped around his mouth.

  Maisie jumped and waved when she saw him at the end of a short queue of people ready to exit the vast building after collecting their trunks and suitcases. The queues entering were growing longer and longer, and she was grateful that there were only a few feet between her and her husband.

  Outside, he pushed his way through a group of people waiting for their loved ones and grabbed her by the arm, tugging her to his side. He looked so happy and far healthier than when she last saw him in England; she knew they’d made the right choice by not staying.

  He stroked her hair, touched her face, and their embrace lasted several minutes.

  ‘Welcome home. Welcome to Nova Scotia. Let’s get on the road and meet the rest. Mom is beside herself with excitement. My parents arrived yesterday, and I’ve never had so many hugs from my father.’

  Maisie looked around at the families and loved ones embracing in much the same way. Tired, drawn faces of the arrivals lit up at the sight of them and she knew exactly how they felt. Loved and wanted. Happy. Grateful.

  ‘Now comes the hard part,’ she said and followed him to a large green Ford pickup. He loaded her trunk into the back.

  ‘The family will love you. They love you already for making me happy. I have a surprise too!’

  Cam’s voice had lost the dull tone that had dogged him during the last weeks and months they’d had in England. His eagerness to please her was almost boyish. His hair was now much longer with curls forming around his neck, and his cheeks and arms were tanned. Maisie saw him as the paratrooper she had first met and beamed a smile at him.

  ‘This is wonderful. It’s great to see you so alive again, Cam,’ she shouted above the engine noise and wind as they rattled along the coastline. The views were spectacular, and Maisie felt her sense of adventure return. The nausea and anxiety from the ship had dissipated, and she could not wait to start on a new adventure.

  ‘It’s you and this country of mine. Both make me very happy,’ he said.

  As they turned off onto a narrower road, Maisie gasped. The striking landscape before her was nothing like what she had expected. Cam’s wide-open spaces were no lie, and they were filled with towering spruce trees. She sniffed the air. Their fragrance and that o
f the sea was fresh, unlike that of Southampton docks. Cam pulled the car to a halt and jumped from his seat. He ran around the truck to her side and pulled open the door.

  ‘Just take a look down there,’ he said.

  Maisie peered over the edge of the roadside and looked down on golden-yellow seaweed covering blue-tinged grey slabs of uneven rocks which had formed into fascinating shapes. On the shimmering water, tied to a post, bobbed a small green boat filled with boxes that she assumed were to house the lobsters he intended to catch.

  ‘It’s ours,’ Cam said, pointing across the water.

  ‘The boat?’

  Cam nodded. ‘Our wedding gift from the family.’

  Maisie looked at his wide smile and hugged him.

  ‘They’ll be waiting. But first I have to show you something else. Let’s go,’ Cam said.

  The drive home had been breathtaking for Maisie. Cam appeared to take it in his stride, but she suddenly felt tiny against the vast reaching trees, the enormous rocks and boulders. Houses of varying sizes were fields and fields apart, not row upon row like they were back in England.

  ‘I can see why you want to live here,’ she said to Cam as he pulled up outside a large wooden house surrounded by small outbuildings overlooking the water.

  ‘It’s very basic compared to what you’re used to, Maisie. There’s a lot of improvements which have to be made. I know how modern amenities can transform a house into a home, and I need you to be patient and know I’ll do my utmost to transform this place.’ Cam pointed to the large wooden house, his voice almost pleading with her to like it. Maisie gave his arm a reassuring touch.

  Maisie guessed the smaller building set back on its own was the one housing the toilet. Used to emptying bedpans, she took it in her stride that there’d be pots under the beds here until they made improvements.

  ‘My home is with you,’ she said, and Cam replied with a kiss.

  Maisie felt a sense of release. She was no longer trapped inside the confines of her past. Cam had set her free and brought her to a new world where she would embrace the highs and lows as best she could. There was no going back for Maisie.

  They stepped up onto the front porch of the main building and before Maisie had time to turn around and take in the view, Cam had opened the front door of the house, lifted her off the ground and into his arms.

  ‘Time to carry you over the threshold, Mrs Cameron,’ he said and nudged the door open.

  He spun around with her in his arms as if she had no weight to her body at all. Cam’s strength and enthusiasm had returned. Maisie squealed with laughter and it echoed around the walls.

  ‘Put me down, you fool, before you do yourself an injury.’

  Placing two feet firmly on the ground, Maisie took a slow walk around the large open-plan room. Maisie saw a basic home in need of loving care. Cam was right; it was different to what she’d been used to in her little cottage, but he’d forgotten that she’d spent most of her life with no privacy at all and very limited freedom.

  ‘There’s an upstairs – another two levels; my uncle built this with a large family in mind. They only had one child, and when my aunt’s parents died, they moved into their smaller home as it was closer to the water. It’s a lovely spot, but this is our place from now on. Another gift from my uncle. My cousin Larry would have lived here had he survived and married.’

  Maisie noted the wistful look on his face. It was a brief moment of guilt for surviving the war, and her heart went out to him.

  ‘Oh, Cam. I’m so sorry this makes you so sad. We’ll make it a happy place and we’ll make your family proud. They’ll never regret this gift. I can’t wait to meet them. Take me to them. It’s time I met my new family.’

  They walked in silence, hand in hand along the water’s edge with gulls calling and lapping water adding to the peaceful ambience. Maisie tucked the moment deep inside. She had little doubt there’d be tough times ahead – cold times in the snow, Cam had warned her – but for the short walk to his family it felt like an embrace. A welcome home.

  A male voice shouted out in the distance, and Cam squeezed her hand.

  ‘Here we go. Pop has spotted us.’

  Their speed increased and Maisie let go of Cam’s hand to enable him to get to his father and she watched the pair cling onto each other in loving gratitude for Cam’s life. His father looked over at her and the moment of dread disappeared. His smile said it all. Thank you for making my son happy. Thank you for giving up your home for him.

  ‘Harry, when you said she was a pretty redhead, you weren’t exaggerating!’ he exclaimed.

  Maisie felt the blush burn her cheeks. Cam’s father let go of his son and pulled her close.

  ‘My daughter-in-law. Mrs Maisie Cameron, welcome to your new home.’

  ‘I second that!’ another male voice called over to them, before Maisie had time to respond. The man raced towards them and nudged her father-in-law to one side.

  ‘Move over, old man. Let the others have a chance,’ he quipped and gave Maisie a brief hug. She immediately saw the family likeness amongst the three men.

  ‘You must be my new niece,’ the man said, stepping back and looking her up and down.

  ‘And you must be my new uncle, Bernie!’

  She burst out laughing and the others joined in.

  Cam looked on and gave a satisfactory nod.

  ‘Time to meet the other ladies in my life. My sister is here and she’s so excited for us.’

  They climbed a small incline towards a pretty blue house with a sloping tiled roof and an attic window. Maisie could see two grey-haired women seated on rocking chairs on the porch. They made the perfect picture against the blue paint. Both women rose as the group approached the porch entrance, and Maisie could see the shorter of the two was Cam’s mother. He had her eyes.

  ‘Mrs Cameron,’ Maisie said and held out her hand.

  ‘Mrs Cameron,’ her mother-in-law responded, then pulled her close for the obligatory embrace.

  ‘Welcome to the family, Maisie. Welcome to Canada, and call me Mom, you hear? We’re all the richer for having you come to live with us. What a beauty you are. Son, you did well. Take care of her, you hear me?’

  ‘I hear you Ma,’ Cam teased with a salute.

  Maisie’s heart leapt and jumped with a sensation that was new to her. She soon realised that it was a sense of belonging to something greater than just Cam: a family. She could now use the term ‘my family’ in a way she’d never been able to in the past. She would say Mum and Dad, Aunt and Uncle, sister and husband, on a daily basis. Everything she’d ever dreamed of in her life stood before her laughing and chatting together.

  Cam’s aunt stood back and Maisie looked to her.

  ‘I understand it’s you I have to thank for the pretty things inside our new home. In fact, both of you for our beautiful house.’ She held out her hand and the woman took it in hers. ‘It can’t be easy for you. I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs Cameron.’

  With a soft smile, Cam’s Aunt Sarah looked at the group.

  ‘Another Mrs Cameron to take the helm. You men had better watch out. Maisie, please call me Sarah.’

  An afternoon of drinking lemonade, exchanging stories, and generally getting to know the family ticked by and Maisie relaxed far more than she’d imagined she would.

  Cam’s sister Emily arrived from a shopping trip, and after giving them both an enthusiastic hug she shyly handed over a beautiful glass paperweight as a welcome gift for Maisie. The gift touched Maisie, and she burst into tears, which sent a flurry of worried family members fussing over her and reassuring her, which in itself brought on fresh tears. It was one of the happiest days of her life, and Maisie allowed it to overpower the sour ones of the past.

  By the evening, she and Cam headed to their new home, armed with a basket of food and fresh bed linen. Maisie was exhausted but insisted they watch the sun going down whilst sitting on their own porch steps. She leaned her head against Cam’s, and h
e put his arm around her.

  ‘This is paradise,’ she whispered.

  ‘I challenge you to say that in the middle of winter,’ Cam laughed.

  Maisie snuggled close. ‘I’ll have you to keep me warm.’

  ‘Always,’ he replied and when his lips found hers, Maisie’s heart rate rose. She’d witnessed tender glances between his parents during the afternoon, and knew she’d married into loving genes. Her man was hers forever, and although the war had taken a lot away from them both, she knew it had also given her the best thing she could ever wish for in her Canadian paratrooper.

  ‘Time for bed. We’ve a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Our new home needs the loving touch of a woman. And I’m also ready for the same,’ Cam said and pulled Maisie to her feet.

  ‘I love you, Maisie, and I promise to be a good husband to you.’

  Maisie followed him inside and before she closed the door, she looked out at the moon’s reflection tripping over the rippling water. She knew it would be a long time before she had the leisure to write poetry again, but the image before her was stamped in her memory forever. Mrs Harry Cameron closed the door on the scene and followed her husband upstairs.

  CHAPTER 34

  1946

  Maisie noticed the first mists of spring rolling around the front of their home. Thick fog often caught her unawares, but today she could see the treetops across the water and shimmering wisps of white straddling branches and filtering through the gaps as if escaping the confines of winter. The longer she stood mesmerised by the scene, the more inspired she became.

  With the eagerness of a child at Christmas, she picked up her pen and wrote her first two poems since landing in her new country. It had been a stagnant eight months where creativity was concerned and she smiled when she thought of how the simple words would please Cam. He fretted over her lack of writing, and worried it was due to homesickness or regret. No matter how many times she reassured him, he still felt that he was holding her back from releasing her inner thoughts. She pulled out her poetry book and pondered the title, and within a few seconds the words flowed onto the page.