Molly's Christmas Orphans

by Carol Rivers

  ‘By rights they should be evacuated,’ Cissy said sharply. ‘In my opinion he ain’t got a hope of finding these pals.’

  ‘I can understand how he feels,’ Jean replied thoughtfully as she tucked her short, permed fair hair under her paisley headscarf. ‘For about half a day I thought about sending my two away. But the truth is no one really wants our East End kids. They’re too much of a liability.’

  ‘Yeah, but they’d be safe.’

  ‘P’raps,’ agreed Jean. ‘Me head tells me you’re right, Cissy, but me heart won’t let me do it. And anyway, it’s not the kids I’m worried about. It’s Den. He failed his medical for the services, cos he’s got a dicky chest. Had it from birth. I worry about him more than I do Simon and Susie.’ She laughed. ‘Saying that, nothing I ever say stops Dennis Turner from doing what he wants, so I—’

  A faint vibration went through the shelter and all three women fell silent.

  ‘The Luftwaffe’s back,’ said Cissy after a while.

  ‘But it’s not close yet,’ said Jean in a whisper.

  They all listened again. The brief silence was broken by the faint thud-thud of ack-ack guns.

  ‘You from around here, Cissy?’ Jean asked eventually, and Molly knew her friend was trying to distract their thoughts.

  ‘I was in digs at Blackwall, but Ethel, me landlady, died.’

  ‘Got any family?’

  ‘Nah. My old man ditched me years ago. I was glad to be rid of him. He was a selfish bastard. Never knew what he was up to or who he was with.’

  ‘That’s awful,’ sympathized Molly, though she could tell Cissy wasn’t keen to discuss her past.

  ‘Well, Cissy, there are mostly good apples in the barrel,’ Jean said brightly. ‘You’ve had a hard time, but don’t give up on men just yet. You’re still young and attractive. You’ll meet someone nice one day.’

  ‘Doubt it.’ Cissy looked away.

  Molly exchanged glances with Jean. Then there was a shattering explosion nearby and everyone fell to the floor.

  Next morning, Molly woke with her head at an unnatural angle. She slowly opened her eyes to find a bright light shining in through the Anderson door. Andy and Dennis, with dirty black faces, were standing there.

  ‘Rise and shine,’ chuckled Dennis.

  ‘Oh, Den, it’s you,’ said Jean, rousing herself next to Molly. ‘Is the house still standing?’

  ‘Not a brick loose,’ announced Dennis, removing the steel helmet from his head, leaving a white rim above his eyebrows. ‘A few heavy explosives went in the drink last night.’

  ‘Yes, we heard them.’

  ‘Sorry we couldn’t get back. It was pandemonium out there. But the good news is the gas and water are on. Reckon we could rustle up breakfast indoors, don’t you, love?’

  Jean put a hand to her back and stretched. ‘Kids, wake up. Get yourselves into the lav and empty the bucket. Then we’ll have something to eat.’

  Molly followed Cissy into the morning air as the children made use of the outside closet. ‘I’d like to visit Dad,’ Molly said to Jean as they stood on the scrubby patch of yard grass.

  ‘You do that, ducks,’ Jean told her. ‘Me and Cissy will look after the little ones and cook the men a good breakfast. Now, you’d better be off.’

  As everyone was occupied, Molly made her way over the rough path and through the house to the street. The crater in the road was now cordoned off. She passed the old bicycle factory and followed the footpath to the back of the shop. Taking the key from under the pump, she let herself in.

  The store held an eerie silence as though it stood still in time.

  Molly went up to the flat and found her dad’s tobacco, then she washed her face and fixed her hair. She wanted to make a good impression at the hospital so her dad could see she was able to look after everything while he was away.

  ‘I’m afraid your father had a disturbed night,’ an unfamiliar nurse told Molly when she arrived at the hospital. ‘He developed a temperature, which was a little worrying.’

  Molly looked over the nurse’s shoulder to the curtained cubicle. ‘What brought that on?’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘Dr Neil believes it may be concussion. From time to time he gets confused, probably a result of the blow to his head.’

  ‘Can I see him?’

  ‘It’s not visiting hours, but I’m sure we can make an exception.’

  Her dad was asleep when Molly sat quietly on the chair beside his bed. The bandage on his head was very white against his flushed face. Every now and then he jumped or trembled. Molly stood his pipe and tin of tobacco on the cabinet.

  As she did this he woke, screwing up his eyes. ‘Molly, is that you?’

  ‘Yes, it’s me, Dad.’ She took his hand. ‘They tell me you had a bad night.’

  ‘What day is it?’

  ‘Tuesday.’

  ‘Thought it was Sunday.’ He rolled his head towards her. ‘Where am I?’

  ‘You’re in hospital, after a bomb exploded outside the shop.’

  He nodded slowly. ‘Oh yes, I remember now.’

  ‘Thank goodness for that.’

  He gave a yelp when he saw the protective cage under the covers. ‘What have they done to me leg? They ain’t cut it off?’

  ‘No, course not. Your leg’s broken and you’ll have to be patient while it mends.’

  Just then, there was a penetrating cry. Through the curtains, Molly could hear someone crying and the nurses running.

  ‘This is a very noisy ward,’ she said.

  ‘The way I feel at the moment Big Ben could strike in me ear and I couldn’t care less. Think they’re giving me jollup to shut me up. Now, before I drift off, tell me how you’re managing?’

  ‘There’s no need to worry about anything. Dennis and another man called Andy have done the repairs at home.’

  ‘Andy? Who’s he?’

  ‘Someone I met here. His wife was killed that night, leaving him with two small children. I also met a woman called Cissy who lost everything in the raid. I felt very sorry for them and—’

  ‘Offered to help?’ Bill gave a chuckle. ‘I leave you for a couple of days and look what happens! Half the bloody East End is lining up at our door!’

  ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘Ducks, like your mother, you’d help any soul in distress.’ He squeezed her hand tightly, then looked at her intently. ‘You ain’t told your sister about me, have you?’

  ‘Not yet.’

  ‘Good. I don’t want no fuss . . .’ Slowly his eyes began to close. A long, heavy sigh slipped from his lips and Molly sat, her mind full of confused thoughts. She would have to tell her sister soon about Dad. Lyn would be very upset to think she’d been kept in the dark.

  Once outside the hospital, Molly took a deep breath. She knew the nurses and doctors were doing the best they could, but they couldn’t bring about a miraculous recovery. Even if Dad managed to walk again, there was the matter of the steep flight of stairs that led from the shop up to the flat.

  Hands deep in pockets, Molly made her way home. Cranes, tractors and lorries were noisily trying to clear the streets amidst the long queues of people waiting at the coach station. Under a large sign saying EVACUEES, all the children and their parents were lining up.

  One little boy was lifted aboard, screaming and crying. Molly’s stomach dropped as the coach moved off. The boy stared out of a window as his mother waved frantically. Who knew how long they would be separated?

  Chapter Six

  Although it was the first day of 1941, the celebrations were brief. After another unsettled night in the Turners’ Anderson, everyone went quickly on their way. Andy left for Poplar with the children to look for the Denhams and Molly and Cissy went back to the shop.

  ‘Well, I suppose I’d better say goodbye,’ Cissy said as Molly pulled up the blinds. ‘I can’t put on you for much longer.’

  ‘You could help me sweep up if you like,’ Molly said. ‘But perhaps you’d like to
be on your way?’

  ‘Got nowhere special to go,’ Cissy shrugged and grabbed the broom. By the time the afternoon came, the shop and glory hole were spotless.

  ‘Have you ever worked in a shop before?’ Molly asked as Cissy took off the apron Molly had given her.

  ‘Me? No!’ Cissy laughed, lighting up a thinly rolled cigarette. ‘I wouldn’t know one spud from another.’

  ‘Are you any good at figures?’

  ‘I know if I’m fiddled when I get me change in the pub. But that’s not the same as operating one of them things.’ She nodded to the till.

  ‘You just enter the sum with the keys and keep a record of the coupons.’

  ‘You offering me a job?’ Cissy asked in surprise.

  ‘I need to see me dad, so you’d be alone in the shop at times. But I’d include board and lodging too.’

  ‘What!’

  ‘Don’t underestimate the work. Serving in a shop is hard,’ Molly warned. ‘There’s a lot of lifting to do. And we don’t close till very late.’

  ‘That don’t sound too bad at all.’

  Molly smiled. ‘You can have me dad’s room while he’s away. And I can lend you a few of me clothes to tide you over until we get to market. We’re about the same size, I think.’

  Just then Molly heard the children, and Evie, with her blonde waves tumbling over her shoulders, ran in and wrapped herself around Molly’s legs. ‘Hello, Curly Top. What mischief have you been up to?’

  ‘I tried the Sally Army Mission, but drew a blank,’ Andy said as he walked in the door with Mark.

  ‘What about the Red Cross?’ Molly asked.

  ‘No luck there either.’

  ‘So what are you going to do?’

  ‘I went to the evacuation office. They told me to turn up early tomorrow morning at the coach station and see the billeting officer.’

  Molly’s thoughts flew to the little boy staring out of the coach window.

  ‘I don’t wanna go away, Dad,’ said Mark.

  ‘I know you don’t, son. But I’ve got to go back to sea.’

  ‘Why can’t we go to Betty’s?’

  ‘Cos I can’t find her.’

  Molly lifted Evie into her arms. ‘Would you two like something to eat? You must be hungry.’

  Evie nodded immediately, but Mark’s eyes were filled with tears as he ran out of the door. His father followed and Molly heaved a sorrowful sigh. Without the Denhams to help him, Andy had no choice but to evacuate his children. And Mark seemed to sense what was in store.

  Andy’s thoughts were all over the place as he stood the following day, waiting to speak to the billeting officer. He felt he was failing his children. But what else could he do, other than evacuate them? He’d made Evie and Mark carry their gas masks and had filled in the informations tags he’d been given yesterday at the offices. But how could a scrap of paper give a child’s complete history, especially the circumstances of Stella’s death?

  ‘Don’t want to go,’ Evie said, looking up at him with big blue eyes. ‘Where’s Molly?’

  ‘You can eat the picnic she made you on the coach,’ he said, forcing a bright smile.

  ‘I don’t wanna go neither,’ said Mark, his small voice lost in the many voices around them.

  ‘I know, son.’ He knelt down and drew them towards him. ‘Listen, you two, I have to go back to sea. I wish I didn’t, but there’s a war on. I promise to come and see you as soon as I get leave.’

  ‘Name!’ a voice shouted and he jumped to his feet. A stern-looking official was addressing him. The man, who wore a smart suit and tie, held a board in his hand.

  ‘I’m Andy Miller,’ said Andy. ‘This is my son Mark and my daughter Evie.’

  ‘Are you registered? I don’t have a Miller down here on my list.’

  ‘No, the welfare sent us.’

  ‘Then you’re in the wrong place.’ The middle-aged man’s thin, unsmiling face showed disapproval. ‘You should have registered before coming here, to get a place on a coach.’

  ‘I didn’t know that,’ said Andy, keeping his temper in check. ‘I was told at the billeting office to be here early. And that was all.’

  ‘You have no idea how difficult it is to find host families, let alone at a moment’s notice,’ the man complained.

  Andy’s annoyance surfaced. ‘Listen, chum, do you think I want to pack me kids off like this?’

  The man stood back, staring at him with astonished eyes. ‘There’s no need to take that attitude.’

  ‘What attitude should I take?’ Andy demanded as he lifted a distraught Evie into his arms. ‘Just tell me which coach to put my kids on.’

  The man stiffened his thin neck. ‘I told you. All the seats are allocated on coaches. Transport for the unregistered is provided separately – over there.’

  Barely giving Andy another glance, the billeting officer turned to the next person in the queue. Andy was tempted to stay put and argue the point, but he knew that would only upset the kids more.

  Gripping Mark’s hand tightly, he made his way across the road to where the official had indicated. It was not long before a lorry with an open back drew up. Everyone in the waiting crowd surged forward; the children were lifted, pushed, shoved and heaved on top of the vehicle.

  ‘Dad!’ screeched Mark. ‘Don’t leave me.’

  Andy stood motionless. He felt Evie’s wet tears on his neck as she clung to him. He heard Mark’s sobs and felt his son’s terror.

  ‘Last chance for today,’ said the driver, jerking his thumb. ‘Your two can squash in there.’

  ‘Where are you taking them?’ Andy demanded.

  ‘Norfolk, mate.’

  ‘Norfolk?’ Andy repeated in alarm. ‘How far’s that?’

  ‘Dunno. But I’ve got to get cracking.’

  Andy stared into Mark’s eyes, red with tears. How could he let this happen?

  Molly’s feet had been going round ten to the dozen on the pedals. Every time the bicycle hit a hole in the road, it careered right or left. The store’s delivery bike was sturdy enough, but was custom-built for strength, not speed.

  At the coach station she dismounted and threaded her way through the busy traffic. There were two coaches parked by a sign saying EVACUEES. One coach was leaving, the other filling up fast. An official wearing a suit and holding some papers seemed to be in charge.

  ‘Have you seen a man with two small children?’ she asked.

  He rudely ignored her as he called out instructions to the stream of parents. She looked for Evie and Mark at the windows of the coach and when she couldn’t see them, pushed her bike back in front of the man.

  ‘I’m looking for a boy of five called Mark and his younger sister Evie,’ she repeated loudly.

  The man eyed her suspiciously. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘A friend of the children’s. Have you seen them?’

  ‘I see hundreds of children and can’t be expected to remember their names,’ he said, turning away.

  Molly followed him. ‘I must find them,’ she called. ‘Perhaps you remember their father? A tall dark-haired man with a beard.’

  ‘Oh, him,’ the man said, stopping. ‘No host family, no details. Unregistered. And most unpleasant. I sent him on over the road to wait for the lorries.’

  ‘What!’ Molly gasped. ‘You don’t mean children are driven in lorries?’

  ‘I most certainly do. They’re very lucky to be provided with any sort of motorized transport other than trains.’

  Molly watched helplessly as he turned away, obviously annoyed and determined to be unhelpful. She pushed her bike off the pavement and began to cross the road. Several buses and lorries passed by, and even horse-drawn carts. She searched each one of them for the children’s faces. Had Andy put them aboard a lorry and gone on his way already?

  She wandered along the pavement, looking inside every vehicle, but there was no sign of them. The queues were slowly dispersing, mostly parents, many of them clearly distressed or in tea
rs.

  Then she heard a familiar sound. The cry was faint at first and she stood still to listen. Straining her ears through the rumble of traffic, she was certain she could hear something.

  Out of the remaining crowd, a small figure emerged. A little girl was running towards her, with long, tangled blonde hair.

  Chapter Seven

  Molly leaned her bike against a lamp post and lifted Evie into her arms. ‘Hello, Curly Top.’

  ‘Where you bin?’

  Molly laughed. ‘I’ve been looking for you.’

  ‘Molly?’ Andy walked up with Mark trailing beside him. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I thought I was too late. The man over there was very unhelpful when I asked after you.’

  ‘He was the last straw,’ Andy said grimly. ‘I just couldn’t put my kids on a lorry and watch them driven off to God knows where.’

  ‘What about your ship?’

  He shrugged. ‘The coppers will have to catch me first.’

  ‘They could put you in prison. What would the children do then?’

  Again Andy lifted his broad shoulders. ‘I’ll have to take that risk.’

  Molly took a deep breath. ‘Evie and Mark can stay with me if you like. That is, until your next leave when you could try to find your friends again.’

  Andy looked at her with dark, puzzled eyes. ‘Why would you do that? You don’t know us. Besides, you’ve got a store to run.’

  ‘Cissy’s going to help me,’ Molly shrugged. ‘I’m sure we’ll manage.’

  ‘I still don’t understand,’ Andy protested, his frown deepening. ‘Why should you care? I’m a total stranger.’

  ‘I was a parent once too,’ Molly found herself explaining. ‘Ted and me had a little girl . . . Emily. She died in the flu outbreak five years ago.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he said, but once again he looked doubtful. ‘You realize taking on two kids will be quite a handful.’

  ‘I’m willing to give it a try – if you are.’

  He stood thoughtfully, then knelt down beside his son. ‘Mark, you know I have to go back to sea. Molly said she’ll look after you while I’m away. How do you feel about that?’

  Mark looked forlorn. ‘You said we could go to Betty’s.’