The Orphan Collection

by Maggie Hope

  When the train reached Durham, Ada and Tom went straight to the little house in New Elvet which Tom had bought for their new home. Tom lit the sitting-room fire while she went upstairs to unpack. What a homecoming, she mused as she hung his shirts in the mahogany wardrobe and put a stone hot-water bottle in the bed to warm it. She hesitated for a moment or two – should she put one in the bed in the spare bedroom? She decided she would, she could always take it out again if the bed wasn’t used. The weather was warm but the house had not been lived in and could be damp.

  Downstairs, Tom was waiting for her. He rose to his feet as she entered the room. He stood before the fire, absently drumming his fingers on the mantelpiece.

  ‘I must go up and see Father,’ he said. ‘You’ll be all right on your own? It’s only fair to let him know I’m going as soon as possible.’

  ‘Yes, of course, Tom, if you’re sure. Will you be back for dinner? I left the pantry well stocked with tins and dry goods, I’m sure I can soon get something together.’

  Tom hesitated. ‘I’m not sure. We may have to discuss arrangements, we’ll have a lot to talk about. I will probably have to leave fairly quickly.’

  They were talking to each other like polite strangers, Ada reflected. ‘Well, don’t worry about me, I shall be all right,’ she said evenly. Without further ado, he left. She heard the front door bang shut after him and sat down in an armchair, looking round the room. They had spent all their spare time furnishing the house. She had thought she could make a home there, her very first real home, but now, as she looked round, it seemed like a stranger’s place to her. She settled down to wait for her husband’s return, feeling friendless and alone. Oh, if only she had had a mother she could confide in! she thought. But nothing had ever come of her attempts to find her. Eliza, now, she could have confided in Eliza but she was too far away and it was not the sort of thing Ada could put in a letter.

  In the weeks that followed, everything began to move at what seemed a frightening pace to Ada. The city was in the grip of war fever: wherever she went it was being discussed. Many young men enlisted right at the very beginning and Tom’s departure went unremarked by anyone but his close friends and family, who were very upset by it.

  Ada pondered what she herself was going to do now. She couldn’t stay in the house on her own with nothing to do, not for any length of time. For Ada was not one of those who believed the war would be over by Christmas; perhaps not even next Christmas, she thought sadly as she crossed over Elvet Bridge and turned to walk up New Elvet one day, after shopping.

  She would return to nursing, that was what she was trained for, and nurses would be needed now, more than ever. She had read in the Northern Echo only that morning that many nurses straight out of their training were leaving for army hospitals in France and England, so she would go back to the County Hospital. Even though she was married now, her husband was away and she was sure she would be welcomed back.

  At home there was a letter waiting for her from Tom. With the now familiar feeling of sadness, she opened the envelope and read the terse note within. Tom was coming home on embarkation leave, he would soon be going to France. Well, she would tell him of her plans when he arrived. Apprehensively, she wondered if he would think they were a good idea. Ada looked at the date and saw that he would arrive the next day.

  When Tom arrived, resplendent in his uniform of an army captain, he was enthusiastic about the war, full of talk of his fellow officers and eager to get over to France and start taking part.

  ‘Just think, Ada,’ he said, ‘I’ll have a much greater chance to gain experience in surgery, it will stand me in great stead. I’m going to a field hospital, I’ll be in charge – well, of course there will be a regular army surgeon in overall charge, but that will be of several field hospitals. In effect, it means I will be in charge.’ He grinned at her and she remembered how engaging his grin could be, how infectious his enthusiasm. He seemed to have forgotten about their differences.

  They were sitting in the small sitting room drinking afternoon tea and Tom picked up his cup and saucer and strode over to the window, looking out on Hallgarth Street. He had a restlessness about him which kept him from being still for long.

  ‘Are you going over to see your parents tonight, or waiting until tomorrow?’ asked Ada.

  ‘Oh, tomorrow, I think, let’s have the evening to ourselves,’ Tom answered. Nervously, Ada felt small flutters of apprehension run up her spine. Quickly she changed the subject.

  ‘Tom, I was thinking of going back to the County. A lot of nurses are leaving now and I’m sure I can be of use, after all I don’t want to waste my training and with you away, well, it will give me something to do.’

  ‘Back to nursing? But you’re a married woman. What about me when I come home on leave, what about the house?’ Tom had turned to face her, a quick frown on his face.

  ‘But they are taking married women, especially those who are married to men in the forces. After all,’ Ada tried to put the reasonable case to him, ‘after all, we all have to do what we can and it is what I’m trained for.’

  ‘You could help Father in the practice, I’m sure he could use your help.’

  ‘But I’d rather go back to hospital nursing, it’s something I know I can do. Really, Tom, you must realise that nurses will be in short supply, there will be a great demand for them. And I can close the house down until you get back, I’ll have to stay at the hospital. And I’m sure Matron will be understanding about leave when husbands come home.’

  Tom sighed. ‘Oh, well, I suppose you’re right,’ he said, confounding Ada, who had marshalled even more arguments to bolster her case. They spent the evening sitting companionably by the fire and went up to bed together, for Ada was determined that this time she would command her own behaviour.

  She did manage not to scream, shout or cry when Tom drew her into his arms and caressed her breast. Encouraged, he went further; he was prepared to forget her past as he expected her to do. But Ada stiffened up too much in her attempts not to give way to her feelings, biting her lip until it bled.

  ‘Relax, darling,’ Tom whispered. ‘You wouldn’t send a man off to war without giving him –’ He broke off what he was saying as he looked her full in the face and saw her white, strained expression. Abruptly, he let her go. Turning over onto his back, he stared into the dark, his breathing ragged, until eventually he gained control of himself.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to bother you any more,’ he said flatly. Both Ada and Tom lay a long, long time before getting to sleep.

  Next morning Tom was up before Ada woke. She came downstairs at nine o’clock, heavy-eyed and head aching, to find an empty house. She cleaned the house, more to pass the time than because it needed it, and when Tom still did not appear by twelve she cooked and ate a solitary meal. Just as she was thinking of going up to his parents’ house to see if he was there, she heard a knock at the door.

  Tom! He must have come back, was her first thought as she hurried to answer it, but even as she opened the door she knew it couldn’t be. Tom had his key, he wouldn’t knock.

  ‘Hello, Ada.’

  Virginia stood there, her face set in an angry frown. Before Ada could answer her greeting, she pushed past and walked into the sitting room, turning to face Ada, who had followed her.

  ‘Have you seen Tom?’ Ada asked, knowing full well Virginia had. What had Tom said to her to make her so angry? Surely he hadn’t told the family their private business? Ada quailed at the thought.

  ‘Indeed, I have seen Tom. I came down from Newcastle to see Tom this evening, I travelled yesterday so as to have the weekend with my parents. Now, what I want to know is, what happened between you and Tom to make him so unhappy? What have you done to him?’

  ‘Done to him?’ Ada echoed, her stomach doing a quick somersault.

  ‘You know what I mean. Why did Tom come up for breakfast at our house looking so strained? Oh, he told us there was nothing wrong, he’d wo
ken early and thought the walk would be nice, but I know Tom, I can tell what he’s feeling.’

  ‘I didn’t do anything. He went out before I woke this morning,’ Ada said lamely. ‘Er …’ She cast around for something to say, something to calm her sister-in-law. ‘Would you like a cup of tea, Virginia?’

  Virginia snorted. ‘No, I would not. I’m very angry with you, Ada, we all are. I’m sure if it hadn’t been for you Tom would never have joined the army, he would never have been going to the front.’

  ‘But he’s not going to the front, he’ll be working in a hospital,’ Ada answered reasonably.

  Impatiently, Virginia pulled on the gloves which she had just taken off while she was speaking. ‘Don’t be silly, Ada. Where do you think field hospitals are if not close to the front? No, if anything happens to Tom it will be your fault entirely. There was no need for him to go, he was doing essential work here, and now Daddy has to take all the strain of the practice on his own shoulders. I tell you, Ada, I will never forget this.’ Virginia swept past Ada and out of the house, leaving Ada feeling more miserable than ever.

  What had happened to the Virginia she had first met? Ada wondered sadly. She had changed so much as she grew older. Though it was true, brother and sister had always had a very close, loving relationship; Ada remembered how she had envied their closeness when she first saw it. Virginia would never forgive anyone who hurt Tom.

  Tom didn’t come back, and by two o’clock Ada thought she had to get out of the house or go mad. She decided to go to see Matron at the County and offer her services, at least that would be something constructive. Changing into a dark-blue costume, she brushed her hair and drew it back into a severe bun at the nape of her neck. The more businesslike she looked, the better, she thought. Leaving a note for Tom, she left the house.

  The interview with Matron was entirely satisfactory. Ada had been right in supposing that a lot of nurses were leaving for army hospitals in England and France.

  ‘You can start as soon as it suits you, Nurse,’ Matron told her when Ada put her request.

  ‘Will the beginning of the month be all right, Matron?’ Ada asked. ‘I have the house to close up and other things to see to first.’

  Matron sighed. ‘Well, I could have used you sooner but the beginning of the month will do.’

  Ada thanked her dutifully. Matron had been the terror of the probationers during her training, but now the older woman – who had herself trained in the Nightingale Training School of St Thomas’s Hospital in London and was a firm believer in Florence Nightingale’s ideas on discipline – looked tired and strained. Ada guessed she was working seven days a week in the effort to keep the hospital going despite the shortage of nurses.

  As Ada left the hospital, her attention was drawn to a poster for nurses and other hospital workers under the Voluntary Aid Detachment scheme. She paused and read it.

  ‘VAD’ it read in large letters. ‘Nursing members, cooks, kitchen maids, clerks, housemaids, ward maids, laundresses, motor-drivers, etc. urgently needed.’

  If it hadn’t been for the Gray family I might have been applying for a post as laundress, she mused as she walked home to New Elvet. She owed everything to them, it was true. Her conscience was causing her a great deal of discomfort by the time she arrived at the little house in Hallgarth Street.

  Tom was home; as Ada opened the front door she saw his army cap on the hallstand and smelled the strong tobacco he had begun smoking since he joined the army. Relief flooded through her: for a while that morning she had worried that he was not going to come back to her at all. Quickly she looked at herself in the mirror over the hallstand; loosing her hair from its knot, she threaded her fingers through it and patted it into place. She was very pale, she noticed, and pinched her cheeks between finger and thumb to bring some colour into them.

  ‘Is that you, Ada?’ Tom called from the sitting room.

  ‘Yes, I’m coming, Tom,’ she said.

  Chapter Twenty

  The last few days of Tom’s leave were days of great strain for Ada. Dutifully, she went with him to his parents’ house for dinner and sat through a very uncomfortable meal. Both Mrs Gray and Virginia were barely civil to her and she was glad when the time came round for her and Tom to return home.

  ‘I’m staying a few days, Tom,’ Virginia said as they said their goodbyes in the hall. ‘I’ll see you before you go.’ She kissed him on the cheek, hugging him to her. ‘I can’t let you go without saying goodbye properly.’ She pointedly ignored Ada, who was just glad that the evening had at last come to an end.

  As their own front door closed behind them, Tom grasped Ada’s arm firmly. She looked at him in surprise, seeing the new air of determination about him.

  ‘What are you doing, Tom?’

  ‘I’m doing what I should have done in the beginning,’ Tom declared. ‘Now, no protests, no hysterics, I am going to make you see reason. It’s past time you became my wife in more than name.’

  Dragging her up the stairs, he threw her on the bed and began ripping off his clothes. Ada sat up, fear creeping up her throat and threatening to choke her.

  ‘Tom, Tom –’

  ‘Never mind Tom,’ he barked. ‘Get your clothes off now, or I’ll tear them off for you.’

  Dumbly, as she saw the resolve in his eyes, Ada began to take off her dress, her shoes and stockings. She tried again.

  ‘Tom, not like this,’ she begged. ‘Please, Tom –’

  For answer, Tom threw himself on her, knocking her back on the bed and taking the breath from her body. Pulling the strap of her underbodice roughly down so that it tore, he caught hold of her breast, smothering her cry of pain with his mouth. He took her quickly, forcing her legs apart to accommodate him, till at last he pulled himself off her and lay on his back, panting.

  Ada lay as one stunned, aching all over, feeling indescribably dirty. All men were the same then, she thought dully. Tom was as bad as Uncle Harry, or nearly as bad, when it came to gratifying his sexual urges. After a moment she sat up and pulled her torn bodice together.

  ‘Where are you going, Ada?’ Tom asked, but she couldn’t even look at him. Without answering, she went into the bathroom; locking the door behind her, she ran the bath and, not caring that it was barely lukewarm, climbed in and began soaping herself all over. Tom knocked at the door but she ignored him. He called to her and knocked again, but in the end he went away.

  Methodically, Ada cleaned herself and towelled herself dry. When, wrapped in towels, she opened the bathroom door, Tom was standing there in his pyjamas waiting for her.

  ‘Ada,’ he said, ‘I had to do it, it was the only way. I thought it would make you love me.’

  Ada didn’t even look at him. She walked past him and into the spare bedroom, where she locked the door behind her and crawled into bed.

  Next morning she was out of bed early after a sleepless night. She went downstairs, made a pot of tea and sat drinking it as she watched a watery sun rise over the houses behind the garden. Oh, God, she thought, what am I going to do? It was obvious to her that she would never be any good to a man, never be able to get over her revulsion for the sexual act. She had to let Tom go. She didn’t know anyone who had actually divorced, but there must be a way to do it. This was no good to Tom and it was no good to her. She would make nursing her life, that was the only thing to do.

  Tom came into the kitchen dressed for the day and sat down opposite her at the table.

  ‘How do you feel?’ he said, hesitantly.

  Ada ignored the question and got straight to the point. ‘Tom, I think we should get a divorce,’ she said. ‘I’m no good to you, you want someone –’

  ‘A divorce?’ Tom interrupted. ‘Don’t be a fool, Ada. What do you think that would do to my career? A divorced doctor – why, it wouldn’t do at all, men wouldn’t tolerate their wives seeing a divorced doctor. No, I have the practice to think of even though I’m in the army for the present.’

  ‘I though
t, if I take the blame, you can divorce me, or seek an annulment or something.’

  ‘It’s out of the question, Ada. I won’t have our private affairs bruited about in public and that’s what would happen, believe me.’

  Ada was silenced. She picked up the teapot and poured another cup of tea, stirring sugar into it, absently. Tom rose to his feet.

  ‘Don’t worry, Ada. I won’t trouble you again. I’m going back to my unit today. I’ve already packed.’

  ‘Oh!’ Ada lifted startled eyes to him. ‘What about your family?’

  ‘I’ll go up to see them this morning, say I was called back, I think. That would be best.’

  By nine o’clock, Tom had left and the house settled back into its now familiar silence. Ada washed the cups and saucers and tidied up the kitchen, feeling deathly tired. Walking into the sitting room, she looked around; in the grey light filtering in through the lace curtains it seemed cheerless and depressing to her. Her body ached and her right breast was as sore as a boil. She sat down on the sofa and put her feet up, dropping off to sleep after a few minutes.

  She was awakened by a loud knocking on the front door. Sitting up, she rubbed her heavy eyes, trying to collect her thoughts. The knocking sounded again. Wearily, Ada went to the door. Who on earth was it now? Her stomach began to churn as she opened the door and saw Virginia once again.

  ‘You ungrateful little bitch!’ Virginia greeted her, barging into the hall. Sighing, Ada closed the door and turned to face her. Now what was it? she wondered wearily.

  ‘Don’t look at me as though you don’t know what I mean. I heard the whole story from Tom. Why did you marry my brother? Did you see a nice secure life ahead of you as the wife of a doctor? Not bad for a grubby little washerwoman, was it? You knew what you were doing, all right, but that wouldn’t be so bad if you made him happy, but you’re not prepared even to do that. A cold, calculating, frigid little guttersnipe, that’s what you are. I should have left you to die in that miserable hovel in Gilesgate. I rue the day I got Daddy to let you come and live with us.’ Virginia paused to get her breath. Ada just stood there, seeing no point in answering or defending herself.