An Orphan's War

by Molly Green

  ‘And you’ll be under the watchful eye of Kathleen and the stricter eye of our new nurse, Dolores,’ Maxine chuckled, her spirits lifting that she might still see Crofton today after all.

  ‘All right, Nurse Taylor. You win. I’ll go and put a few bits into a bag ready to stay a couple of nights then.’ June removed her raincoat from the hook behind her office door.

  ‘You’ll be at least three days in the ward,’ Maxine called after her. ‘So mind you bring enough with you to last.’

  At precisely two o’clock Ellen brought Crofton to June’s office where Maxine was waiting for him, filling in the time by going over a new file for Nora Johnson, another orphan who would be arriving in a week’s time.

  ‘Squadron Leader Wells, Nurse,’ Ellen said, giving a bob. ‘May I take your coat, Sir?’

  ‘Yes, please.’ He handed over the damp greatcoat.

  ‘Thank you, Ellen.’ Maxine got up from behind June’s desk.

  The maid shut the door behind her, but not before Maxine heard her giggle with Rose. Ignoring them, she turned to Crofton who stood there smiling at her and holding out his arms.

  She walked straight into them and he held her close.

  ‘I need to tell you,’ she said, pulling away a little. ‘Before you say anything else, I need to tell you about my baby. I named him Edward, though I always called him Teddy.’ She gulped and Crofton gripped her arms and looked into her eyes. ‘You were right. I let him be adopted. My mother and father are very old-fashioned. My dad’s had a bad heart for a long time. He might have understood, but it would have killed my mother if I’d told her I was having a baby out of wedlock. I didn’t know what to do – who to turn to. I had very little money of my own as most of my wages went to Mum. As it was, my cousin Pearl helped me. I stayed with her and that’s when I first met you – on my one and only outing, besides check-ups at the hospital. I liked you immediately, but if you’d known I was expecting and wasn’t married you would’ve run a mile.’

  ‘You didn’t give me a chance.’

  ‘You were a stranger,’ Maxine persisted. ‘You can’t go around telling strangers who you’re attracted to that you’re having another man’s child – someone who doesn’t love you after all. Then later you told me you’d already gone through that with your new wife, so I had even more reason not to say anything.’

  ‘That was completely different,’ Crofton said. ‘She’d been seeing another man at the same time as preparing to marry me. You thought you’d met someone you loved and would marry when you were at St Thomas’.’ He kissed her forehead. ‘Besides, you never seemed like a stranger. I felt I’d known you all my life that first evening. I wish you’d said something then.’

  ‘I couldn’t. And by the time I got to know you and care for you, and hope you did me, it was too late. You were too precious and I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Which I thought had happened when you walked out of the door at Mum’s.’

  A shadow crossed his face. ‘I’ll never be able to tell you how sorry I am,’ he said. ‘It was a shock, I can’t deny, to hear you’d had a child. But now I know his name – Teddy – he feels more real to me.’ He indicated the two visitors’ chairs. ‘Shall we sit down?’

  He turned his chair towards her and moved it closer, then took her hand in his.

  ‘Do you know anything about Teddy’s adoptive parents?’

  ‘Very little.’ Maxine looked down at their linked hands, and he gave hers a little squeeze of encouragement. ‘They live in Scotland and lost their baby girl a year ago. The nurse told me they were so thrilled to be given Teddy and promised they would always love him and look after him as though he were their own. And one day they hoped to adopt a little girl so he had a sister.’ She swallowed hard.

  ‘I love you,’ Crofton said. ‘And when we have children we’ll tell them about their older brother, Teddy.’ He tipped her face to his. ‘Teddy will always be our firstborn – never forget that. One day the law might change to make it possible for a natural mother to meet her child. We’ll never give up hope.’ He kissed her lips. ‘So darling Maxine, will you marry me?’

  She kissed him back. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

  After …

  Four months later

  May Day 1943

  The day before the May Day celebration Barbara persuaded Harold to remove the long pole he’d stuck in the ground, already draped with coloured ribbons she’d supplied for the maypole, so the children could give him the ring of bright artificial flowers they’d wired together in the art room to go on the top. With his usual good nature, he fixed the flowers and finally had the pole firmly back in position again, to the cheers and claps of the children.

  The afternoon was not going to be any brighter than yesterday, Maxine thought, as she looked up at the dull grey sky, but it hadn’t affected the children’s pleasure at all, by the look of them. She stood on the lawn with Kathleen and Dolores watching the children show off to the staff and any children not dancing, their spindly arms and legs joyfully moving more or less in time to the tunes Mr Reynolds from the village was playing on the accordion. Their shrieks of laughter as they became entangled, then realised they needed to dance in the opposite direction to free themselves, seemed like a miracle to Maxine. They were behaving much more like normal children, forgetting their sorrows and enjoying the moment. Four of the boys were huddled together round the pole itself, their arms around their knees, saying to anyone within earshot they were too old for this kids’ game, yet not wanting to miss anything. Peter, Maxine noticed with a pang, was nowhere in sight.

  June, who was visiting for the day, sat with the little ones on the grass, her arms round the twins, Doris and Daisy, who were recovering from severe colds and had been in tears because Dolores hadn’t allowed them to take part. Dolores is stricter than Kathleen or me, Maxine thought, but she was sensible, and under her gruff manner she loved them and was keeping a sharp eye on the dancing children in case one of them should fall. It was more than you could say for Judith who had little sympathy for them and was only there, it seemed, out of sufferance.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw June say something to Daisy and Doris and scramble up. Maxine gulped, her eyes lingering on the gentle swell of June’s stomach under her dress as she strolled over. Maxine couldn’t be more happy for her – June looked so completely comfortable in her pregnancy and she’d make a wonderful mother. It would come naturally to her.

  Maxine fought back the tears. If she’d had any kind of backbone she’d have kept her baby. Teddy was almost a year old now. She would have seen him every day. Been there with his first smile. Soon he would say his first words, take his first steps. She thought of his new parents – she’d rather think of them as new than adoptive, for some unknown reason. They’d lost their baby. That was so much worse. At least Teddy was alive and well and happy and would grow up not knowing any difference. That was what she had to remind herself – as often as needed. And maybe one day, far in the future, when he was old enough to understand …

  An image of Crofton floated in front of her eyes. His dear face. His twinkling eyes. His total understanding. As far as he was concerned, Teddy belonged to them both. She glanced at the diamond sparkling on her engagement finger as she did a hundred times a day. They hadn’t set the date, though Crofton was determined they weren’t going to wait for the war to end. There was no telling how long it would go on for, he said. And yet there was something in the air – something in the speeches Churchill was broadcasting to the nation. A turning point in November when Montgomery won the battle against Rommel at El Alamein. Maybe this time next year it would be over. She had to believe it.

  ‘Are you all right, Max?’

  There was concern in June’s voice and Maxine brought herself up sharply.

  ‘Couldn’t be better.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I’m sure,’ Maxine answered. ‘I was just thinking how much I’m going to miss you.’ It was true.
Bingham Hall didn’t seem the same without Junie, and she’d only been gone a month, although it was wonderful that Mr Clarke had offered Maxine her cottage.

  ‘You’re going to make a wonderful matron,’ June said fervently. ‘And I’ll come and visit often.’

  ‘You’d better. I want to get to know that baby of yours.’ Maxine swallowed hard, thinking of Teddy.

  June pressed her hand and Maxine knew her friend understood.

  ‘It’s a pity Murray and Crofton couldn’t make it,’ June said a little wistfully. That would have made the day perfect.’ She looked at Maxine, then grinned. ‘We could have had another celebration of your Florence Nightingale Badge to let the world know you’re now a proper nurse.’ The green eyes twinkled mischievously.

  Maxine chuckled. ‘I enjoyed that sneaky glass of wine after they’d all gone to bed, but it was a celebration I didn’t want to spread around.’ She directed her attention to the maypole, her laughter fading. ‘I just wish Peter would join in with the other boys. That would make my day perfect.’

  The two women looked over where Peter was weeding the vegetable plot, happier there than dancing round the maypole. Lizzie was with him, using her little trowel, and he was issuing instructions to her and Freddie who was leaping around them with his usual enthusiasm.

  ‘At least the children seem to accept him a little better now,’ June commented.

  ‘I’d love to hear him laugh – see him have some fun,’ Maxine said, ‘but he never does. Oh, well, at least he’s become really interested in gardening. The gardeners say he’s a real help to them.’

  June watched him for a few moments. ‘I see he still likes being in the vegetable garden, but I think it’s the flowers he really loves.’

  ‘They’re something beautiful in his sad little life, I suppose,’ Maxine said soberly. ‘But although he’s a long way from being healed, he’s a different child from when he first arrived.’

  ‘Thank goodness,’ June said fervently. ‘And it’s down to you,’ she said smiling. ‘You’ve made a real friend of him.’

  ‘Crofton more than me,’ Maxine said truthfully. ‘He trusts him implicitly. And Freddie, of course.’

  June grinned. ‘I told you Freddie works miracles.’ She paused.

  ‘By the way … did you ever hear anymore from Hilda’s mother – Mrs Brown?’

  ‘Not a dicky bird,’ Maxine said. ‘I think that pound note did the trick.’

  The purr of an engine interrupted their laughter. The two women swung round in the direction of the drive, though the car was not yet in view.

  ‘I wonder if it’s Murray,’ June said, her face lighting up. ‘He said he’d try to come for an hour or two if he could before we make our way home.’

  ‘I know it won’t be Crofton,’ Maxine said with a grimace. ‘He’s away until next week. And his car sounds much more cranky than this one.’

  ‘Let’s go and see who it is then.’

  They wandered towards a sleek black motorcar that the driver had parked some distance from the house. Maxine noticed a tall figure sitting beside him. Two men were in the back of the car and they both climbed out. One was older, and although short and stocky, had an air of someone who was used to taking charge. The two men came towards them.

  ‘Good afternoon, gentlemen. I’m Mrs Taylor, the matron,’ Maxine said, stepping forward, her hand outstretched. She turned to June. ‘And this is Mrs Andrews who used to be the matron until recently.’

  ‘How do you do?’ the older man said. ‘Detective Inspector Mason and my assistant, Sergeant Carroll.’ He flashed his identity card in front of her.

  Maxine’s heart turned over. Had they come about Mickey? She and her mother had heard nothing from him since he’d been told about his father’s will.

  ‘May I ask the nature of your call?’ she said.

  ‘Certainly, madam,’ answered Detective Inspector Mason. ‘We believe you might be of some assistance though it’s a rather delicate matter. Is there somewhere we could go in private?’

  ‘We’ll go into my office,’ Maxine said, glancing at June and nodding for her to attend as well.

  ‘I’ll bring him in then, shall I, Sir?’

  The detective turned to his assistant. ‘Go easy on him, Sergeant. Remember, this is a two-way street. We have to keep our side of the bargain so he keeps his, but there’s no need for any heavy nonsense.’

  ‘Of course, Sir.’ Sergeant Carroll looked mildly disappointed before he turned and headed back to the car.

  Maxine caught June’s eye. What are they talking about? Who is this man?

  June frowned and shook her head. ‘I’ll go and get extra chairs,’ she said to Maxine, and disappeared.

  Maxine stayed outside with Detective Inspector Mason, ready to take the men to her office. She watched as a very tall man, hatless, his broad shoulders held back stiffly in position, walked towards the house, the sergeant glancing at him every so often and saying something. The sun had just shown itself and it glinted on the man’s blond head which he held high. He turned his neck once to look towards the children who were dancing around the maypole. Everything about him – his height, his bearing, his stride – told her instinctively that this was someone of importance who didn’t enjoy being in the company of the two policemen. She couldn’t see his face from where she stood, but there was something about him …

  After a few moments the two men joined the detective, and the three of them followed Maxine into the house. She took them to her office, where June was setting out the chairs, then put her head in the kitchen door and asked Bertie if she would make tea for five.

  ‘Who are they, hen?’ the cook asked curiously as she put a casserole dish in the oven. She stretched up and blew out her cheeks. ‘I caught sight of them when they came in after you. They looked like coppers to me – well, two of them anyway. Not sure about that third one without a hat.’

  ‘I must go and see to them,’ Maxine said, scurrying out before Bertie fired any further questions.

  Maxine sat at her desk, June by her side, preparing herself for whatever the three men had to say. She noticed they had placed the hatless man in the centre. He’d had his head bent a little when she’d walked in, but now he lifted it and looked at her directly with deep-set clear blue eyes – it was as though he was appealing to her. She grasped the edge of the chair in disbelief. Although his face was thinner than she recalled on the photograph, he was still an extremely good-looking man.

  ‘This is Herr Best,’ said Detective Inspector Mason, his plump face serious as he threw a glance at the two women. ‘Peter Best’s father,’ he added unnecessarily.

  ‘I recognise you from the photograph Peter showed us,’ Maxine said, determined to keep her voice steady though her mind was in turmoil. Herr Best raised his eyebrows. ‘It’s his most precious possession,’ she went on hurriedly.

  ‘Is it truly?’ Herr Best’s accent was strong but the words came easily as he leaned forward.

  ‘Truly,’ Maxine said. She wanted to smile at him, assure him they were not here to judge him, but her face remained neutrally serious. ‘He’ll be overjoyed to see you. We didn’t even know if you were alive.’

  Herr Best was silent, his eyes unblinking.

  ‘As you can imagine, Peter’s going through a very difficult time,’ Maxine continued, ‘especially as we couldn’t tell him any details – we didn’t know ourselves – if you were in prison, or if you were a—’ She stopped herself in time, but not before she saw Herr Best flinch, ‘if you’d been injured – shot by one of ours, or …’ She trailed off, embarrassed by the direction she was taking the conversation.

  ‘You can tell the ladies briefly your story, Mr Best, but no details, please.’ It was Sergeant Carroll speaking for the first time at the meeting.

  ‘Please, we’d like to hear it,’ June said, as Rose knocked on the door and appeared with a tea tray, Ellen following with a second one of scones and biscuits.

  The men were silent as June
poured tea and Maxine handed round the cups, still reeling from the reality of sitting opposite Peter’s father.

  ‘I knew from Hitler’s ridiculous ambitions we would soon be at war,’ Herr Best began. ‘That is when I sent Christine and Peter to the safety of England in the August of 1939. The excuse was for her to be there for her mother’s operation. And it was better they knew very little. Only Chrissie knew the true nature of my work. I told her I would come to England as soon as possible to join her and Peter.’

  He paused and took a gulp of tea, looking up apologetically at Maxine and June. ‘You may not believe, but not every German is happy about the Führer, but they feel helpless.’ He gave a grim smile and raked his hand through his closely cropped hair.’ Maxine opened her mouth, but before she could speak he gently stopped her with the palm of his hand. ‘The British knew I was working against the Party and they arranged for my escape to England. They took me straight to London where they questioned me but I said I will not answer until I see my wife and son. I find out my wife died long ago.’ His eyes became moist. ‘I knew it in my heart. She was ill with a very bad cough and had not written for some time. And they tell me my son went to his Oma. And then they tell me her house was hit by the Luftwaffe and my son is alone. Gott sei dank he wasn’t in the house at the time. They tell me he has been sent to an orphanage. But he is not an orphan. His Papa is here.’

  No one spoke. Herr Best closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. All the while he’d been speaking, Maxine had barely moved in case she disturbed his train of thought. Her heart soared. It was the most wonderful news possible. Not only was Peter’s father alive and actually in Britain, but it appeared he’d been working against Hitler. She remembered how Crofton had made a remark that he wouldn’t be surprised if Herr Best was not a Nazi after all. She remembered her immediate reaction when she’d first laid eyes on Peter’s photograph of him. He hadn’t had the hard features she’d expected for a Nazi, even though he was wearing the uniform. How she hoped London would believe him. And that he had some information they would find useful so he wouldn’t be imprisoned.