by Molly Green
‘I’m going to get it back. Remember, I promised. And I’ll check to see if Dr Barnardo’s has sent your father a letter to let him know this is where you’re staying at the moment.’
Peter’s head shot up at her last words. She took his hand.
‘It won’t be forever, you know. When the war is over, you’ll be reunited with your father and be able to live in your country again. But until then we want you to be as happy as possible here at Bingham Hall.’ Please don’t let his father be dead, she thought, as she said this.
‘I hate it here.’
‘Peter, I understand how difficult it is at the moment, but everything will change once the others get used to you. And in the meantime I’m your friend. And it’s not just children who have problems. Grown-ups do, as well.’ She swallowed. ‘I get lonely sometimes, too …’ Maxine paused. She’d never admitted this to anyone, that after Anna and then Edwin … She stilled her thoughts. What was the point? The poor little chap had enough on his plate to tackle and certainly didn’t need some unknown nurse moaning about her lot. Luckily he didn’t seem to be taking much notice. She drew in a breath. ‘I’m hoping you might be able to help by being my friend. You can talk to me about anything and I’ll always try to help you. Will you trust me?’
Peter caught his lower lip with his top teeth, not taking his eyes off her. Maxine held her breath. If he said no or shook his head again, she knew she had failed with him.
‘Peter?’
Very, very slowly, almost imperceptibly, he nodded.
‘I think we’d better go,’ she said, rising to her feet. ‘Your class will soon start.’ She held her hand out to him and pulled him gently upright. ‘You’re a brave boy and I’m proud of you. And while you’re in class I’ll go and speak to Hilda.’
But Hilda was nowhere to be seen.
Maxine gave a deep sigh as she sat at the table in the ward and made a few notes on her talk with Peter, added the date and signed her name. She’d have to talk to June again. This was a far bigger problem than any child of eight should have to cope with. Yet when she reread her notes she realised she knew a little bit more about him than she had before.
She stretched and glanced at her watch. Time for tea. She didn’t really feel like joining the others so she put the electric kettle on.
Just as she was pouring the water over the tea leaves, she heard voices upstairs and laughter, and for a few seconds she wished she’d joined the others in the dining room. Yes, it was loud with children’s chatter, but it would have been company. Except for when she and Kathleen changed shifts and caught up for a half an hour on what had been happening both upstairs and in the ward, her job, she was slowly realising, was quite solitary. It would be good if June could find another nurse and Maxine would have more chance to be with the children.
There was a knock on the ward door. She went to open it and Hilda stood there unsmiling.
‘Ah, Hilda, just the person I’ve been looking for. I wanted to ask you what you’d done with—’
‘Matron says you’re to come up straightaway. Someone’s here to see you. A man.’ Hilda’s small eyes shone with importance that she could order her superior to do something.
Dad. She smiled delightedly at the thought and then her smile faded. Mum would never have let him come on his own. She’d have insisted on accompanying him out of curiosity. Her heart plummeted. The only other man who would possibly visit her was Mickey. Oh, no, please not him. He only came into her life when he wanted to borrow some money. There wasn’t a brotherly bone in his body for her. But surely he was still in prison.
‘Can you keep an eye until I come back?’ she asked Hilda, annoyed that it must be her brother who’d chosen this moment to come and see her. He always brought trouble with him, not at all worried about causing a scene, which she must stop at all costs.
‘I suppose so. I should’ve brought my magazine.’ Hilda’s lips turned down in a sulk.
Why was the girl always so difficult? It was as though she almost hated her. But Maxine hadn’t seen much sign of Hilda’s friendliness to anyone else so it was obviously her nature. At least she’d get a chance to ask her where the photograph was when she came back to the ward.
‘I think Kathleen’s got some in the kitchen. I shouldn’t be too long.’
She was still scowling at the thought of her brother when she reached the Great Hall and saw a tall man in uniform, his arms full of bags. She blinked. It wasn’t Mickey after all. The children were all giving him curious glances as they passed by on their way to class with their teacher – Judith Wright looking from the stranger to Maxine with raised eyebrow. Somehow that small gesture annoyed her. Why should she have to answer to Judith Wright’s unwelcome curiosity? There was something about the woman she couldn’t really take to. But the man was coming towards her. And her stomach was making funny little jumps.
‘You look positively cross to see me, Maxine,’ Crofton said, grinning. ‘And that’s before I’ve done or said anything.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Maxine attempted a smile. ‘I thought you were someone else.’ She didn’t want to elaborate about her brother and why he would have been unwelcome, but Crofton gave her a questioning look.
‘Do you mind my being here?’
How could she tell him how relieved she was that he wasn’t Mickey, and that she was far from minding, though she’d been a bit deflated not to have heard a word from him after he’d made such a big fuss to have Bingham Hall’s telephone number. Not wanting him to realise how very pleased she was, she used her professional voice.
‘No, of course not, but it would have been better to have telephoned first, which you said you would do.’
‘I know, but it’s been all work lately and pretty grim, most of it.’
Immediately she felt ashamed. She knew he was understating what he and his pals were facing every day. Compared to them, she was having an easy time.
‘I’m so sorry …’
‘Don’t worry.’ He jerked his head to the parcels. ‘Is there anywhere I can dump these bags? It’s just a few treats for the children.’
‘That’s awfully kind of you.’ She wished her heart wasn’t beating so fiercely. ‘Have you spoken to Matron?’
‘Yes, he has.’ June appeared from her office, a broad smile on her face. ‘I told him he could put them in my office for the time being, but he seemed to want to clear it with you.’
‘It’s Matron who’s in charge, not me,’ Maxine told him.
‘Why don’t you both come into my office,’ June said. ‘I’m sure Mr …’
‘Crofton Wells, Ma’am. At your service.’
‘Well, I’m sure Mr Wells could do with a cup of tea,’ June said. ‘Why don’t you two go on ahead and I’ll get Bertie to make us a tray.’ She hurried off to the kitchen.
Maxine told herself in no uncertain terms not to be so ridiculous as Crofton grinned and gestured with his arm for her to lead the way. Her pulse was racing alarmingly as she stepped into June’s office.
‘Is it all right if I put everything on Matron’s desk?’ Crofton asked.
‘I’m sure it is.’ She dared to look at him properly for the first time since he’d arrived. She hadn’t forgotten those brown eyes with the amber flecks. Now, they were narrowing a little as he asked the question. Or was he trying to get the measure of her response at his sudden appearance? It was difficult to know.
He removed his cap and placed it on the corner of June’s desk, then pushed back a lock of dark chestnut hair. Why did every movement he made fascinate her?
‘Let me help,’ she managed, as she unwrapped one of the parcels.
By the time June came back, the desk was piled with toys and books and crayons.
‘How were you able to get us such a wonderful variety of things?’ June said, picking up a teddy bear. ‘We have to rely a lot on being given second-hand things from the people in the nearby villages and, of course, Liverpool. The children are going to be so excited, but what
ever must all this have cost?’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ Crofton said. ‘We import a huge amount of stuff from America – it’s what keeps us going. I happened to mention Dr Barnardo’s to the Wing Commander and he said for me to put some things together for the children. Take whatever I wanted. So here I am.’
‘Well, it’s incredibly thoughtful of you and most kind of your boss,’ June said, smiling. ‘The toys are getting so bad now with wear, the children are going to be thrilled with these new ones. They’re only used to having one or two toys of their own, and then a few more they play with which are kept in their playroom, so I’ll probably dish these out slowly – maybe on their birthdays and special occasions. If they have everything at the same time they won’t appreciate them nearly as much.’
‘Long as they enjoy them,’ Crofton said smiling and looking at Maxine.
‘Am I allowed to ask how you know Nurse Taylor?’ June addressed Crofton, and Maxine noticed her eyes sparkle with interest.
Crofton turned his head to Maxine. ‘You mean you didn’t tell Matron all about our first meeting? That evening meant so little to you?’
She was furious with herself for blushing. He was probably only teasing, but she didn’t know him enough not to be embarrassed. Quickly, before he could say anything more, she said, ‘Actually, we met when I went to a musical in Liverpool which my cousin was in. He happened to sit next to me and we had a brief chat. And then when Peter and I went to buy him some clothes we bumped into him.’
‘Ah,’ June said, giving Crofton a warm smile.
For some reason, June’s knowing ‘Ah’ grated on Maxine. As though that was all it needed to start a romance, or that’s what it sounded like to her. But before things became any more personal, she was thankful to hear a knock on the door.
Crofton sprang up to open it, and there was Bertie, holding the tea tray but still managing to look him up and down, then giving a nod as though of approval.
‘Bertie, this is Mr Wells,’ June said as she made a space for Bertie to put down the tray. ‘He’s brought some toys for the children. And Mr Wells, this is our cook, Bertie.’
‘Very nice to meet you,’ Bertie said, wiping her hand on her apron before holding it out.
Crofton shook her hand and asked her, ‘What’s that wonderful smell?’
Maxine bit back a smile as she noticed his eyes stray to the plate of sliced cake.
‘It’s just out of the oven,’ Bertie said. ‘Dried fruit and apple. I hope you’ll all enjoy it.’
The three of them talked of other things – the weather for the time of year, the number and ages of the children, how difficult some of them were because of their background – Maxine watched Crofton as closely as she could without his being aware, although once or twice he caught her looking and grinned, which made her cheeks go warm again.
When they’d finished their tea, Maxine and June gathered the toys together and stuffed them back in the bags.
‘I’ll put them in the playroom and lock them in one of the cupboards,’ June said.
‘I’ll help you.’ Maxine jumped to her feet, but June put out a restraining hand.
‘No, you stay and keep Mr Wells company for a few minutes.’
‘I don’t like to leave Hilda too long,’ Maxine said, feeling June was doing this on purpose.
‘She’ll be perfectly all right with her love magazines’ – June smiled – ‘but I’ll pop down and see how she is.’ She held out her hand to Crofton. ‘It was very nice to meet you, Mr Wells.’
‘Crofton, please,’ he said, shaking her hand.
‘Only if you call me June. And thanks again for those lovely presents for the children. You can definitely come and see us again soon.’ June looked at him and laughed. ‘Oh, dear, that sounded awfully rude. I meant you can come but only on condition that you’re empty-handed next time.’
‘I’ll do my best to oblige,’ Crofton said, chuckling.
Maxine remained quiet. They didn’t need any comment from her, it seemed, but as soon as June left with the overflowing bags, Crofton turned to her.
‘She’s nice, isn’t she?’
‘She’s lovely,’ Maxine agreed. ‘Apparently the previous Matron was an absolute tyrant. June found out she was a supporter of Oswald Moseley, so Dr Barnardo’s got rid of her and the handyman who had the same enthusiasm for that horrible man.’
‘All the excitement happens here at Dr Barnardo’s then.’ Crofton gave her a cheeky grin. ‘Bingham Hall harbouring British fascists. Whatever next?’
Maxine couldn’t help smiling back. ‘This was all before I came and it’s settled down since June took over.’
‘She seems very young to be a matron.’
‘She started as an assistant to the matron I was telling you about, and when the woman was sacked, June was asked to take over. She’s only been doing the job for a few months but the children love her, and she gets on well with the staff. It couldn’t be better. I certainly didn’t need any more—’ She broke off but it was too late. Crofton immediately cut in.
‘Didn’t need any more what, Maxine? Excitement? Trouble? Problems? I’m afraid you can’t escape them. Life’s full of them, war or no war.’
‘Yes, well I meant it would be awful working under someone who was a Nazi sympathiser. One of the teachers told me the matron gave June a rough time.’
‘Well, she’s gone now, so we can talk of other things.’
‘I’m afraid I really must go.’ Maxine rose for the second time.
Crofton looked up at her and caught her hand. Shock waves rippled up her arms. Their eyes held. ‘Maxine, I don’t want to let you go this time. Could we meet soon? Could you get the time off? It’s likely I’ll have the day after tomorrow off, though they can change their minds at any time. We have to take that chance.’
Maxine hesitated so long she realised it wouldn’t sound genuine whatever she said now.
‘I-I’m not sure.’
‘Would you ask June? She must allow you out for a few hours. Unless you’d truly rather not see me again.’
How could she tell him her fears? How could she let him know she would dearly like to see him again but she was terrified she might fall in love with him and he would end up hurting her? She could never explain how Edwin had casually thrown her love aside when he’d told her he was married with children and would never put his family at risk. He hadn’t worried about their unborn child, she thought bitterly. Little Teddy. Her darling baby. She closed her eyes to ward off the pain. She couldn’t go through such turmoil again. She could tell Crofton liked her. In fact, she was sure he was attracted to her – as she was to him. Then what?
They’d start seeing each other and he’d ask her personal questions about her husband – unconsciously, she glanced down at her wedding ring. If he mentioned children she knew she wouldn’t be able to put on an act or tell a lie. Yet Teddy must be kept a secret at all costs. If Crofton discovered she’d had a baby, he would think her deplorable for giving him up for adoption. He’d think she was incapable of love or taking responsibility, and certainly he would assume she must have only been thinking of herself and her career. Even worse, he might think she was promiscuous and not fit to be a mother. Not at all the kind of woman he’d want for a wife.
And even if he was as genuine as she was sure he was, how would she be able to convince him she was none of those things? Even Johnny had hinted that she was selfish to want to keep working when her mother was blatantly in need of some help with nursing her father. He hadn’t known her mother well enough to realise she loved bossing her husband around and fussing over him and enjoyed being a martyr.
Her eyes stung with unshed tears at the unfairness of it all. But it had been her decision. She could have chosen a different path. But it wouldn’t have been the best path for Teddy, and that’s what she’d focused on.
I made the decision for Teddy so he’d have a better life than I could give him.
She could only s
tare at Crofton, her lower lip quivering.
‘Maxine.’ He still had hold of her hand. He gripped it tighter. ‘What’s the matter? You can tell me. Please. I’m a very good listener.’
‘Not here,’ she said.
Not ever.
‘Then tell me we can meet Wednesday.’
She could see by the set of his mouth that he wasn’t going to leave before he had the answer he wanted. ‘I’ll have to ask June,’ she said.
‘Good.’ He got up and adjusted his cap. ‘I have every faith that June will let you go for an afternoon or an evening.’
At the front door, Crofton put his hand warmly and firmly on her arm. She looked up at him, saw his smile, felt the impression of his fingers on her arm even though he’d taken his hand away. Edwin had charmed her with his easy smile, his good looks, his air of authority. She’d trusted him and he’d betrayed her trust. She mustn’t ever forget that. Mustn’t forget in a moment of weakness. Crofton was probably the same as all men – charming and loving and kind until they got what they wanted. And then they had no compunction to tell you it was over. She was sure Edwin would have left a trail of broken hearts. Inwardly she stiffened.
As though he’d read the way her mind was working, Crofton broke into her thoughts. ‘I’ll telephone you tomorrow morning – unless there’s any emergency,’ he added.
She stood a long time at the open door watching his long easy strides towards the parked motorcars, not being able to put into words her feelings. Harold was giving a final polish to Bingham Hall’s car, and both men acknowledged one another. Crofton opened his car door and folded himself behind the steering wheel. Several of the children ran out to watch him and she heard them call out to him.
‘Mister!’ Lizzie shouted. Crofton unrolled the window. ‘What’s in those parcels?’
‘You’ll have to ask Matron,’ he said, starting the motor.
‘Are they for us?’ a skinny boy with very dark hair, whose name Maxine momentarily forgot, bellowed back.
