The Forgotten Orphan

CHAPTER 5

‘Do you really dish out the orders, Maize?’ Charlie asked as he blew into his cup of Bovril, his hands wrapped around the tin mug for warmth.

‘I do,’ Maisie replied, and winked as she sipped her own drink.

They stood in the kitchen of the orphanage, enjoying a rare visit together. Charlie had sent a message saying he hoped all was well and Maisie had invited him to visit when he could.

It had all come about when a member of the council telephoned the house and asked if she would be happy to remain in charge of the orphanage with its few remaining staff until someone new was found to take over. The man had gone on to say that he understood if she refused but would be grateful if she’d take into consideration their desperate situation in the city. Finding a new manager and the capacity to train them in the running of the place at short notice, and for such a short time, was more than they were able to achieve at present. Maisie, with her newfound confidence and wanting to be of use, did not hesitate to agree. The man on the telephone had also told her to keep a record of all spending and to add her name to the salary book; she was to draw her own salary, which would be whatever Gloria or Norah had recorded for themselves. He couldn’t remember the exact sum but felt sure it would be a satisfactory wage for a girl of her age and she deserved it with such commitment to duty. He’d asked if she understood the workings of the ledger, and although Maisie had never seen it, she’d replied that she was more than capable of working it out. Mathematic problems were a passion of hers. She’d crossed her fingers when telling the white lie; although she enjoyed mathematics, she much preferred English lessons. She mulled over the words ‘commitment to duty’ and a warm glow of pride shimmied through her body.

Running Holly Bush was a new experience for her, and certainly kept her busy, but she thrived on it, as did the staff. They seemed happier in their work and the children loved the attention they now received. The council sent word that they were working on the official closure date, including the date when the children would be moved. In the eight days since Norah had died, Maisie had waved off one baby and four toddlers. With each adoption, she tried to feel happy that the little ones would be taken to safety, but there were times her feelings overwhelmed her. She missed the children, even though they’d only had a short time together, because they made up the pieces of her patchwork family. Occasionally, she imagined that Deedee was her own child, and wondered what would happen if she kept her name from the adoption list. The cost of being found out was too great and more importantly, she would be standing in the way of Deedee being adopted by a real family that would love and care for her which was, after all, what the precious little girl deserved.

‘I bet they gave you hell the first time you told them what to do.’ Charlie’s voice cracked with laughter.

‘I was so surprised when they didn’t. I was waiting for one of them to start bossing me about but it never happened. For some reason they looked to me for guidance. I think because I know the place so well, they assumed I’d be happy to step into Norah’s shoes. I think they’re just happy someone else is taking the bulk of the work. And if I’m honest, it’s best to be in control rather than controlled.’

‘True enough. You’ll be able to save to get out of here when the children have gone. Any idea where you’ll go?’

Maisie shook her head.

‘I’ve heard a rumour that the place is to be used as a medical centre for army personnel,’ Charlie said.

Maisie looked at him wide-eyed. ‘Really?’

‘Yup. You might be drafted to stay here seeing as you know the place so well. Be prepared, Maize, you might not get away until the war finishes, but at least they’ll treat you right.’

Maisie worried over his words. If the rumour was true and she was drafted to stay there, what would she do? She had no medical skills, nor would she want to tend wounds. Scraped knees were one thing but war wounds were quite another. Surely Charlie had it wrong; they couldn’t make her stay.

‘By the way, I heard a bunch of Canadians have moved in to the Aldershot barracks. My chief is taking a few of us to get information about who does what and where they can get help whenever they’re off camp. Easy job for me after this week. We want them helping, so we must make them feel at home. According to my dad, there’s a new lot arriving in a couple of months.’ Charlie grinned at her as he moved to the back door. ‘I’ll let you know when and you can come along to share your smile with our chums from abroad.’

Maisie threw a dishcloth his way.

‘Actually, I might shock you and say yes,’ Maisie joked.

‘I’ll remember. I take it you won’t be joining us for Christmas Day now?’ Charlie asked.

Maisie gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. ‘I can’t. I’ve arranged our shifts so everyone gets time at home. The only person who doesn’t get time off is me. The children need a happy day before they leave. Forgive me?’

Charlie gave her a bear hug and she squealed. It felt so good to laugh again.

‘Of course, you’re forgiven. Just don’t forget to rest. If I get five minutes I’ll come up and see you, but I’ve got to visit Joyce’s family, too. I’ll try.’

Maisie shook her head. ‘You concentrate on Joyce and your family. I’ll be far too busy to stop. Enjoy your day and come see me another time.’

‘Righty ho, don’t work too hard. Good luck with this place,’ Charlie said, moving his hand in a sweeping motion around the room.

‘What are you like at dusting ceilings? It will save me climbing a ladder!’ Maisie said with a laugh.

‘Cheeky. See you soon. Don’t be a stranger. Joyce misses you.’

‘Send her my love and be careful out there.’

Returning to the office, Maisie made a start on clearing the filing cabinets and stacking the filing boxes to one side.

‘Is it all right to mop in the kitchen now? I didn’t want to disturb you earlier, what with your young man visiting. I’ve finished over in the other houses.’

Maisie looked at the cleaner Val, poking her head around the door. With the busy days running into one another, she’d forgotten Val came to do a deep clean once a week.

‘He’s not my young man – more like a brother. Charlie and his girlfriend are the only friends I’ve got. They mean the world to me.’

‘Do you have a young man?’ Val asked.

Maisie giggled. ‘Do I look as if I have time for courting?’

‘May I just say that the others are impressed with you. When they told me it was you running the place, well you could have knocked me over with me feather duster. The last time I came in this room and Matron Norah was on duty, I had a paperweight thrown at me!’

‘She didn’t hurt you, did she?’ Maisie asked.

Val shook her head and Maisie gave her a gentle smile in return.

‘Good. And I promise I don’t throw things. I’m just grateful for the help.’

‘How are you managing all of this, Maisie? It must be hard work,’ Val said.

‘I haven’t got to cope alone for too long. It won’t be long before the children are moved and this place is taken over for the war effort. I just have to keep a level head until then.’

‘Makes sense to ask you to take the helm, but if we weren’t at war you’d probably be away from here, am I right? This war is madness, thanks to the Germans and politicians with loud voices.’

Maisie smiled. She knew nothing about government and wasn’t prepared to get into a conversation about politics when there were more pressing items on her agenda.

‘We’ve a week until Christmas and I want to try and give the children a gift each to take away with them. We orphans don’t have many possessions, and Christmas was never celebrated here when I was a child. Matron didn’t believe in frivolities. We sang carols, said our prayers, and were sent to bed as normal. I remember one year we were treated to a visit from some dignitaries who brought large baskets of food and delicious cakes, which they handed out willy-nilly. Most of us were sick because of all the rich foods and she never allowed them to come again.’

Val stood listening and Maisie saw sympathy in her eyes – the kind which embarrassed her.

‘I forgot you were a child of Holly Bush,’ she said.

‘I still am, Val. My name is still listed as a potential adoptee.’

Val grinned. ‘Well, I’ll adopt you. How about that?’

‘I’m a handful, according to notes I’ve read about myself. A nuisance child, unruly and wild,’ Maisie said and burst out laughing.

Val laughed with her.

‘Who the heck wrote that? Were you unruly and wild?’

‘Matron hated me for some reason, and no, I was a reader and loved learning. I’m the quiet one in the corner. If she riled me, I’d answer back, but other than that, I thought I was one of the good ones.’

Val leaned against her mop. ‘Listen, my girl has far too many things and she’s not using them. I’ll get her to have a clear-out and we can wrap them up for Christmas and maybe you can hand them out. I’ll have a word with my friends; they’ll donate, I know it. Leave it with me. I’ll take charge of the presents. One less thing for you to worry about. Now, I’d best finish my floors and head home.’

Val moved closer and looked Maisie in the eye. ‘You have a big heart and will be rewarded for this one day.’

Maisie gave a shy smile and watched as Val left the room. The day was off to a good start. She sat at the desk preparing lists of things to do and worked through the salary ledger with a lifted spirit. Things were looking up and she was enjoying the newly calm environment at Holly Bush, despite her organisational skills being tested to the limit.

Though the bombers disturbed their evenings and their sleep, adding to Maisie’s workload, Christmas Day brought nothing but happiness to the home and all the sleepless nights were soon forgotten.

Val and five neighbours arrived to hand out gifts, causing a joyful racket that Maisie had never heard in the main hall before, especially when homemade biscuits were shared around. Two of the staff brought along large hampers donated by the Women’s Institute filled with meat jellies, jams, and small loaves. In the afternoon, one member of staff arrived with the mayor and his wife to deliver six large bags of clothing. Maisie stood back watching each event with tears in her eyes. The tears turned into sobs when she was handed a Christmas gift of her own. It was a box containing a tortoiseshell hairbrush and two small combs for dressing her hair. It was an adult gift, and a thing of beauty. Val patted her back.

‘I thought you’d like it. You deserve it, girl.’

‘I’ll treasure it forever. It’s beautiful. Thank you,’ Maisie managed to whisper in reply.

1941

As the days progressed into January, it became obvious there would be no new matron and, gradually, fifteen children were reduced to ten. New parents eagerly snatched the hands of their adopted child, and not one questioned Maisie’s age or authority to deal with their case, all keen to leave the dreary place behind and enjoy their new family member.

Fortunately, all the adoptions were completed with minimal fuss but the day Deedee was adopted was always going to be painful. Maisie couldn’t be happier for the child, but she would miss her terribly. The mayor and his wife had fallen in love with Deedee when they’d visited at Christmas and knew she was the perfect child for the mayor’s sister and brother-in-law from a rural village in Cornwall. They were both teachers and lived quiet lives a short distance from the sea. The mayor contacted them and put the wheels in motion with the correct authorities, and a process which would normally take months took less than three weeks. The handing-over day arrived and Maisie dressed Deedee in the prettiest outfit she’d found in the bag of clothes. The mayor’s sister beamed when she met Maisie and cried when she held Deedee for the first time.

‘She’s the sweetest thing. We think her nickname suits her, and we’ll call her by it rather than Deidre. We’ll write and send pictures. My brother told me how fond you are of her, Maisie. She’ll be told of you, I promise. My husband has brought his camera and if you like, we can take a photograph of you together and we’ll send you a copy.’

Maisie smiled at the woman who she knew was the perfect choice as a mother for the baby. ‘I’d love a photograph of us together. You will be so happy together. She looks a lot like you; I can see why your brother got in touch with you. Christmas Day was a wonderful occasion here and Deedee got the best present an orphan could ever wish for, believe me.’

Deedee’s new mother smiled up at her. ‘Thank you, Maisie. I promise we’ll give her the best life and protect her always.’

After posing for one or two photographs, and allowing them to take pictures of what was once Deedee’s home, the couple gathered her few belongings in readiness for their journey home. Gathering in the driveway, the family hugged and rejoiced together, and Maisie could clearly see the love they shared. Deedee was a lucky little girl. Her new parents brought her to Maisie for one last goodbye, and she bit back the tears of parting. She shook her head when the mother held her new little daughter out for Maisie to hold.

‘It’s best I don’t,’ Maisie said, her voice cracking with emotion.

‘Please, come and visit us one day so we can prove she’s got a good home. We’d love it, wouldn’t we, darling?’

The woman’s husband nodded as he took Deedee from her arms and headed for their car. It was the moment Maisie had dreaded for over a year, but somehow the usual sadness of saying goodbye was helped by meeting the new parents of her precious little friend.

‘Thank you. I’ll take you up on it when I can. It’s a long way to travel but the journey will be worth it. Take care of yourselves. Stay safe.’

One by one the children left Holly Bush, and when the last child left at the end of January, Maisie cried with relief. Each one of the children had a new home or had an evacuee placement; not one had entered another orphanage. The only name remaining on the list was her own. She left it there for several days before inking it out forever. Maisie Reynolds remained an orphan but no longer held out hope for a new set of parents. Those days were behind her. What she wanted now was to follow a new path of happier days. The mayor had agreed to speak to the council about Maisie remaining at Holly Bush as a housekeeper until the handover, after which she was free to leave. He signed formal papers releasing her from the status of a resident of the home under council care and wished her well.

It was over and at last Maisie felt she’d stepped into adulthood.

CHAPTER 6

1941

In a hand-me-down dress from Val’s daughter Edith, and with her hair freshly washed, Maisie walked to the bus stop. Val and Edith had arrived in the afternoon to keep her company and help her get ready for the dance. Back when Charlie had first mentioned it, it had seemed impossible that she might get to attend, but so much had happened to change her circumstances since then. Fortunately, they were chatterboxes which left Maisie to concentrate on the evening ahead. Her nerves twitched with nervous excitement.

Val’s persuasive manner had enabled her to convince Maisie to help man the refreshment table at the dance. Although it wasn’t the night out Masie had imagined, she realised it would give her something to do rather than standing around looking lost.

Val had offered for Maisie to stay over with her after the dance so she didn’t have to battle with the restricted bus service; Since she would be back home first thing in the morning, Maisie had agreed. She ensured Holly Bush was securely locked up and looked forward to her first night away from the orphanage since she had arrived fifteen years previously.

The bus rattled its way past bomb craters and endless trails of rubble. A ripple of guilt shimmied through Maisie’s mind. How could she be heading for a party when others had lost so much – their lives included?

Music drifted from the hall where Maisie was used to serving tired firefighters their tea, and she soon forgot her qualms. Val grabbed the girls by the hand and ushered them inside via the side door, where Maisie put her bag to one side and waved to Charlie. He stood by the entrance doors and, along with other colleagues, shook the hands of their guests. Val was not shy about expressing her opinion that some of the guests were very handsome indeed, and Maisie agreed. A few stood out in the crowd, especially the younger ones. She was surprised to see so many young faces had travelled so far. Then she reminded herself that the majority of young British men were away fighting so it was no different. Charlie left the welcoming committee and headed over to greet her.

‘Anyone seen my friend Maize? Tall, skinny, red hair?’ he teased.

‘Stop it, you.’ Maisie gave him a friendly punch on the arm.

‘Seriously, Maize, you look lovely. I can’t stop long. I promised I would take over from Dad on fire watch. This lot will be gone in an hour. Friendly group. Enjoy yourself. Happy Valentine’s,’ Charlie said and gave her a wide smile.

Maisie had forgotten that the previous day had been a day for lovers. It had never featured in her life before, and therefore meant little to her beyond foolish, hopeless dreams.

Everyone moved around the room and many new friendships were formed with each new song that was played. She watched couples whisper and laugh together. The Canadian servicemen had a swagger about them, an air of confidence she’d not noticed in men before this evening. They treated everyone as their friend, and she lapped up the attention they lavished on her as they approached the refreshment table. Maisie stood eavesdropping on conversations just to hear their soft accent.

At one point, Maisie scolded herself, and Edith, for comparing Charlie’s lean physique to that of one or two of the more muscular soldiers of the supporting forces. To Maisie it felt disloyal. A betrayal. Yet, she still giggled and had her say whenever a young serviceman glanced their way. The giggles and comparisons increased and neither girl could help themselves. Maisie thought it was just as well Charlie was out of earshot; he might not have enjoyed hearing some of the girlish thoughts they shared.

‘Behave, both of you. I’m heading out to welcome them to England, and you’d better ensure they are fed and watered. No leaving the table area or underage drinking, understood?’ Val waggled a finger at both her daughter and Maisie and teetered off in the direction of a group of servicemen ready to embrace the female company.

‘There she goes, doing her duty,’ Edith said, her scathing, sarcastic tone not lost on Maisie.

‘She’s kind-hearted. I’m sure they appreciate her friendship,’ Maisie said, but no sooner had the words left her mouth than she realised what Edith meant. Val was over friendly where the men were concerned.

‘My dad probably appreciated her friendship but I’ll never know. From what I gather, he visited the canteen at the docks for a week, and by the end of the year she’d lost her job and gained me. Who knows how widely my mother spread her friendship. I’m off to have fun. See you later. If she asks, you can play the innocent.’ Maisie was shocked at the way Edith spoke about her mother. Maisie was left bewildered by both women. She was certain Edith had snuck in a dig at her at the end there but she wasn’t sure.

Taking a moment to study the room, she noted that the majority of the occupants were soldiers in uniforms of varying descriptions. There were also a few uniformed girls, and several women decked out in civvies. Everyone was chatting and smiling. All except one. A Canadian soldier. He stood leaning against a wall to Maisie’s left and stared into space. His face never bore a smile, and no one pulled him into conversation. With only a slight hesitant glance towards Val who was now giggling with two soldiers, Maisie made her way over to the serviceman.

‘Hello. Welcome to England,’ she said and held out her hand.

She gave him widest smile.

‘Thanks,’ came the reply, but no smile followed.

‘You look a little lonely,’ Maisie said, determined to make him feel welcome.

‘I like my own company and listening to the music.’

‘Your voice is familiar. Have we met before?’ she asked. ‘Not that I go anywhere, so it was a silly question really,’ Maisie said, rushing her words with an awkward shyness.

The soldier never replied and instead returned his gaze to staring at the roof.

‘Well, forgive me for trying. I’ll leave you to it.’ Maisie didn’t hold back her indignation and with a huff she turned away from him. She returned to the refreshment table and joined the others who were all busy offering jugs of weak orange squash. She’d seen some people pull small silver flasks from pockets or bags and pour the contents into their cups. She guessed it was alcohol of some sort since the dancing and chatting increased along with the noise levels.

‘I’m sorry.’

A voice cut in to a quiet moment between songs. Maisie turned her attention away from laying out cups on a tray, to acknowledge the speaker. She knew it was the young man she’d spoken to earlier by the softness of his voice.

‘Sorry for being rude or for liking only your own company?’ Maisie asked tartly. She didn’t need to retaliate in any way, but she wasn’t going to let him walk away so easily. He was not many years older than her, possibly two or three, certainly no more. She liked that his complexion was fresh-looking, not spotty like Charlie’s, and it was free from facial hair. Trying to avoid eye contact, Maisie glanced across his shoulder, and out into the crowd.

‘Lots of company out there for you to enjoy. Here, have a squash.’ She thrust a glass towards him and realised her mistake. Now she’d have to look at him, to see those large blue eyes stare back at her. Something about them made her want to know more about him. They invited her to ask.

His hand took the glass, but his eyes never left her face.

‘Thank you … um?’

‘Maisie. Maisie Reynolds, I—’

‘Maisie from the orphanage who has to go home now. Goodnight, soldier boy,’ Val’s slurred voice cut into the conversation and Maisie jumped guiltily.

With a dismissive flick of her hand towards the Canadian, Val followed it with raised eyebrows and he laid down his glass, turned heel, and left.

The burning of embarrassment scorched Maisie’s cheeks. She looked at his back hoping he’d turn around, but when he didn’t, she swung around to Val.

‘Why did you do that? You treated me like a little girl! And why tell him I’m from the orphanage?’

‘Well you are. Nothing to be ashamed of, is there? Anyway, you’re too innocent to be flirting with the likes of him. Mind you, he’s not that much older than you girls by the looks. Talking of girls, where’s the other one? Mine.’

Maisie shrugged her shoulders. She wasn’t prepared to tell Val where Edith was – not that she really knew, but Val had annoyed her by saying she’d been flirting.

Flirting?

Maisie didn’t know the first thing about flirting, and it angered her to think that her being friendly to a stranger would be seen as such. He could have become a friend. Then it dawned on her … he was the man at the bus stop in Southampton. His voice was so familiar, and it was the only place she’d heard a different accent. She wanted to go to him and tell him. To ask if he remembered.

Shake away the thought, Maisie. Why on earth would he remember?

The sound of Val’s voice berating Edith cut into her thoughts, and Maisie sighed. Tonight was not turning out as she’d imagined. Singing, dancing, laughter – all things she’d never really experienced – were happening in front of her, rather than to her.