‘Guess what?’ Dorothy grinned.
‘I can’t. Tell me this instant.’
‘Laurie popped the question.’
‘He never did. How did he propose?’
‘Don’t mind me. I’m just an onlooker,’ Laurie joked.
‘He didn’t ask me to marry him, exactly.’ Playfully, Dorothy punched him on the shoulder. ‘Supposedly, we were Christmas shopping but his lordship here had other ideas.’ She beamed devotedly at her fiancé. ‘Laurie stopped and looked in a jeweller’s window and told me to choose the engagement ring I wanted.’
‘That wasn’t very romantic,’ Esther said.
Laurie looked crestfallen, ‘Aye, I suppose you’re right. But the words just blurted out.’
‘Clot,’ his fiancée intervened. ‘I wouldn’t want it any other way.’
Laurie’s expansive chest swelled. ‘Haway then, show Esther the ring.’
The ring, a gorgeous diamond solitaire, gleamed on Dorothy’s third finger.
‘Oh! Congratulations. It’s beautiful. So, when’s the wedding?’
‘Esther!’ Dorothy appeared mortified.
‘She’s right,’ Laurie said, ‘why wait when there’s a war on? Me call-up papers could come at any time.’
Two weeks later Laurie’s prophesy came true.
As soon as Dorothy entered the dining hall, Esther knew by her stunned expression that something was wrong.
‘What is it?’ She ran to her sister, feet clattering on the wooden floorboards.
Dorothy closed the door and took a deep breath. ‘Laurie’s call-up papers came. Oh, Esther, he’s gone.’
There was a moment’s shocked silence as the news sank in.
‘Do we know where?’
‘To Skegness.’
‘Where’s that?’
‘Further down the country on the coast.’
‘When did he find out?’
‘Two days ago. There was a warrant ticket for the train included with his papers. He was to report to HMS Royal Arthur, a naval training barracks.’
‘The navy… that’s the appointment he hoped for, isn’t it?’
‘He’s thrilled.’ Dorothy shook her head in despair. ‘What is it about war that excites even peace-abiding men?’
Esther didn’t know. She only knew that Laurie was the kindest man and he wouldn’t hurt a fly. Would he?
During December it snowed. When the annihilation from the air didn’t happen, folk were on edge and, according to Dorothy, were reduced to petty worries, such as burst pipes and slippery pavements. The first few months of war were labelled the ‘phoney war’ after so much anticipation.
Then came reports about evacuees. According to the media, some were filthy, unsocial and ‘downright foul-mouthed’. Esther wondered about these badly behaved children who were unafraid of reprisal. They seemed worlds away from Blakely.
One dark and freezing cold January morning, when the orphans were glad to be up and busy making their beds, Miss Balfour spoke, her face grave. ‘Girls, Mistress Knowles is to announce at breakfast that arrangements have been made to evacuate Blakely orphans.’
In the stunned silence, Esther looked around the room to the other equally shaken girls.
‘When, Miss?’ she asked.
‘Soon. The mistress hopes you will make model evacuees. And it will be up to her who goes first. Probably the youngest children, attended by some of you senior girls.’
Esther wouldn’t go – they couldn’t make her. Fifteen on her next birthday, she could finally leave the orphanage. She wouldn’t let the war rob her of the freedom she so desperately longed for.
Esther suffered for two days before her sister’s next visit but when it came, Dorothy’s news took precedence.
Breathless, she hurried into the dining hall. ‘I’ve had a telegram from Laurie.’
She handed the envelope over to Esther. The message was printed on strips of white paper on the buff-coloured telegram.
Six days leave Friday. Arrange wedding by special licence. Love, Laurie.
‘Crikey.’ Esther didn’t know what else to say. Then, her face split into a smile. ‘I’m so happy for you.’
And for myself, she might have added. Laurie was like a brother, and the fact that it would become official thrilled her.
Dorothy grinned idiotically, ‘It doesn’t feel real.’
She went on to explain that Laurie feared he might be sent to war and so wanted them to be married before his training finished. His barracks in Skegness was a former holiday camp and he lived in a chalet and wrote that he was perished for most of the time, but he was proud too, as he’d been considered signalman material.
‘What’s that?’
‘A signalman sends Morse code which is dot to dash messages by radio from ship to ship and ship to shore, sometimes encrypted for security.’ She clasped her hands against her cheeks. ‘Gosh… it’s both alarming and exciting to be getting married in such a short space of time… and so much to organise.’
‘Such as?’
‘Book the registrar, the chapel, flowers––’
‘What do you plan to wear?’
‘Mrs Brooke has been wonderful. She thinks I’m terribly young but with this war on, she doesn’t blame me for reaching out for a bit of happiness. She insists I raid her wardrobe and find something suitable.’ A shadow of regret crossed Dorothy’s expression. ‘She won’t see me on my wedding day as she’ll have left for the country by then.’
‘Will the doctor go with her?’
‘Initially, to settle the family in, but then he’ll come back to his practice.’
‘Will Laurie’s family be at the wedding?’
‘I doubt it.’
‘Why can’t they come?’
‘Basically, it’s finances. Laurie thinks his mam can’t afford to rig the family out.’
‘Surely, his mam could come?’
‘Laurie thinks not. And he doesn’t want to press the matter.’
‘What about me?’ Esther asked in a small voice.
‘You, my girl, are chief bridesmaid.’
Esther, thrilled, was rendered speechless.
Then a dark cloud of dismay descended. ‘What if the Mistress won’t allow me to attend?’
‘Esther, it’s inconceivable you won’t be at my wedding. You will be there – I promise.’
But Esther wasn’t so confident. With a jolt, she remembered her news and told Dorothy about the evacuation.
Thoughtfully, Dorothy bit the side of her lip. ‘I know it’s distressing, Esther, but try to be brave. You’re fifteen soon and hopefully the evacuations won’t happen before then.’
‘Miss Balfour reckons it’ll be soon. Should we make a plan?’
Dorothy’s expression became resolute. ‘Leave it with me. I’ll have a think… I promise I won’t let us be parted.’
7
February 1940
‘I did everything,’ Miss Balfour assured Esther in the dormitory the next day, ‘but the Mistress wouldn’t budge on the subject. She insists she needs to know where her charges are at all times, especially now there’s a war on.’
Esther could tell by the housemistress’s embarrassed expression that she too knew this was only a ruse. The Mistress’s real intention was to exercise tyranny over Esther – yet again.
Though disappointment hit her like a sledgehammer that she wouldn’t be at her sister’s wedding, Esther decided for Dorothy’s sake to put on a brave face. She insisted she would be there in spirit. Meanwhile, she wanted to be included in every aspect of the arrangements so she could imagine the happy occasion.
Dorothy, in turn, played along and was equally adamant that the wedding was to be low key, just a formality, and they’d celebrate properly when Esther was free of the orphanage.
The day of the wedding arrived and, at the designated hour of eleven o’clock, Esther sat in the classroom, gazing out of the window imagining the scene at the little chapel over the road from the Brooke
s’ house. Laurie, handsome in naval uniform, would recite his vows, his baritone voice reverberating around an empty church. Only two people were to witness the wedding; Laurie’s mate from the barracks, who acted as best man, and his sweetheart. Esther’s mind, like a book, slammed shut. It was the most important day of her sister’s life and she was missing the occasion – every fibre of her being wanted to be in that little chapel.
Her heart leaden, she followed the rest of the orphan girls as they marched from the classroom and formed a dinner queue. She jumped as a hand lightly tapped her shoulder. Miss Balfour, a hint of mischief in her gaze, beckoned Esther to follow.
She led the way to the so-called library.
‘Only a half an hour,’ Miss Balfour whispered as she opened the door, ‘before Mistress Knowles is expected back from the evacuation process meeting.’ She tittered. ‘With God’s help… the Mistress will never know.’
As Esther entered the musty-smelling room, a cry of joy escaped her lips. Dorothy and Laurie stood beside a tall fixture of aged books. Dressed in wedding attire, wearing a becoming grape-coloured suit, a navy halo style hat and black high-heeled peep-toe shoes, Dorothy looked as stunning as Esther had imagined.
‘We came straight from the ceremony,’ she grinned.
‘How…?’ Esther began.
‘With help from Miss Balfour.’
‘But it was all your idea,’ Laurie gazed adoringly at his wife.
Overcome with joy, Esther couldn’t think of anything adequate to say and grinned foolishly.
The pair of them went on to tell her about the ceremony, laughing and interrupting one another as they regaled her.
Then Laurie turned to Esther. ‘But the day… petal… wouldn’t be complete without your blessing.’
He did that, did Laurie – made you feel special.
Dorothy looked at him, overjoyed. And why wouldn’t she be? Esther thought. Secure in the knowledge that she had married the love of her life, a man that cherished her, Dorothy’s future shone like a brilliant star ahead of her. Esther vowed she wouldn’t settle for anything less when she married.
The allotted time nearly over, Esther noticed Dorothy’s pensive expression.
‘Something wrong?’
Dorothy grimaced uncertainly. ‘I promised I wouldn’t mention it, especially today… but… I’ll burst if I don’t.’ Her green eyes sought Esther’s. ‘Can you remember Mam’s cousin Aunt Lillian? She used to visit us all those years ago at the shop.’
Esther recoiled. She couldn’t believe that Dorothy would spoil the day by mentioning their mother.
She shook her head emphatically. ‘No.’
‘Aunt Lillian was plump with freckles and dressed expensively. She had a daughter… I think called Margaret… we wore her cast-off clothes––’
‘I’ve told you. I don’t remember.’
It was a fib, because of course Esther did.
Dorothy persisted. ‘I’m sure I saw Aunt Lillian yesterday. I spotted this woman walking further up on this side of the street and there was something familiar about her. She turned to look both ways in the road before crossing and I saw her face. I swear it was Aunt Lillian… If not, it’s her double. She walked further up and then guess what, Esther?’
Esther didn’t want to know.
‘She moved towards one of the doors and bringing out a key from her coat pocket, she opened the door and went inside. She must live there… or else she knows someone who does.’
‘So?’
‘She’s a link to Mam. Esther, she might know something.’
‘I don’t want to know about Mam.’
‘But I do.’
‘Then you go and ask her.’
‘I would never… not if you didn’t agree.’
Esther knew she was being unfair but she couldn’t change her mind… not even for Dorothy. Not when it came to their mother. ‘Mam is past history.’
‘I missed not having her at my wedding.’ Dorothy’s voice was barely audible.
‘She didn’t deserve to be there. She gave up that right when she deserted you.’
‘She’s our mother, Esther. I’ll always love her, no matter what.’
Esther considered her sister’s forgiving heart. If more people in the world were like Dorothy, she thought, there would be no wars.
Yet still she said, ‘More fool you.’
‘Haway, you two.’ Laurie’s good-natured face looked distressed. ‘Let’s not spoil the day.’ He looked from one to the other. ‘You realise, this is the best day of me life.’
There was something solid and dependable about Laurie that made Esther well up. She now had two people in her life to rely on. She wanted to convey some of this sentiment to him but, tongue-tied, the words died on her lips.
Laurie, the big galoot, smiled comically – as if he guessed what she was thinking.
‘I’m the lucky one, petal,’ he said. ‘Not only have I married the best girl in the world but I’ve got the prettiest sister-in-law into the bargain.’
Three days later, his leave was up and Laurie was gone.
Time wore on. News from the war was that ordinary men in little boats had sailed across the Channel and rescued soldiers, stranded on the beach, at a place called Dunkirk. The feat, a comparative success, made Esther proud to be British.
‘The new Prime Minister, Mr Churchill, told Parliament the affair was “a miracle in deliverance”.’ Dorothy told Esther in the dining hall when she visited. ‘Mr Brooke thinks so too. He admires Mr Churchill and thinks he’s doing a first-rate job.’
Esther refrained from saying that it wasn’t so long ago since Mr Brooke had championed the previous Prime Minister. But really who knew what to think – war events were happening so fast these days, it was hard to keep track.
In June, Esther experienced the war at first hand.
Woken up by a siren wailing its shrill public alert, the host of orphan girls joined in screaming.
Miss Balfour’s composed voice cut through the chaos in the dormitory. ‘Girls, stay calm. Remember the drill.’
Gas mask, torch and blanket forgotten, Esther shot from her bed and ran with the rest down the stairs, out of the door and across the fields to the dark and damp underground shelter.
Cold and terrified they sat on straw pallets, surrounded by the sound of bombs shrieking and explosions as they hit the earth.
‘How was it?’ Dorothy asked, when she next visited.
‘Terrifying,’ Esther admitted. ‘I didn’t know what to expect. There was no light and we half froze to death. Even after the raiders passed we were too scared to sleep.’
‘Same here,’ Dorothy said. ‘Doctor Brooke was home. We heard the siren and raced for the shelter down the yard. The bombs were a few peculiar crumps in the distance then all went quiet after a time. Doctor Brooke thought they came from the Harton area.’ She shook her head as she continued. ‘I guess it’s the end of the phoney war… We’re really in it now and its frightening.’
Esther didn’t want to think of the realities of war. ‘Any news from Laurie?’
Dorothy’s features softened. ‘He managed a night’s leave on his way up to Scotland. He was full of himself, as he’s passed his twenty words a minute test.’
‘Is that like an exam?’
‘Yes, now he’s qualified to go the next stage to become a signalman.’
‘So when does that happen?’
‘His class has been posted to HMS Scotia in Ayr to further their speed in Morse code and to familiarise themselves with naval routine.’
This was said with distinct pride, but then her expression became serious. ‘Guess what? Doctor Brooke has joined up to the medical corps.’
‘I thought only single men had to go.’
‘He’s volunteered.’
‘Blimey.’
‘Mrs Brooke will be heartbroken. Though I guess she wouldn’t expect anything less of him.’
Esther knew by Dorothy’s expression there was mor
e to come, and she felt apprehensive.
‘The Brookes leaving is easier for Cook as she doesn’t live in. Besides, she’s taking the opportunity to retire. Alice is going to join Mrs Brooke in the country to help out. Mr Brooke says I can stay on at the house… as caretaker.’
‘Won’t you be afraid all alone in the house?’
‘I’ve refused the offer.’
Esther gawped. ‘But where will you go? What about money?’
‘I get an allowance from Laurie’s pay but it won’t be enough to rent a flat and live on. I’ll have to get a job. Laurie and I talked it over. He wants me to find a home of our own. I explained to Mr Brooke and he understands. He says I can move out in my own time. He knows someone willing to rent the house.’
‘A job? What kind of job?’
‘I’ll do anything. They’re crying out for women to go out to work and help with the war effort.’ Dorothy’s face grew into a fond smile. ‘Another reason to find a job is to make sure you have a home when you leave Blakely. Laurie can’t wait to get you out of this place. It isn’t long now till you leave.’
As though she’d swallowed a golf ball, Esther didn’t trust herself to speak. It sounded too good to be true.
‘Preparation has begun to evacuate Blakely orphans to Yorkshire,’ the Mistress announced at assembly one morning. ‘It’s taken longer than I first thought.’ She glowered at her husband as though this was due to his incompetence.
It was only a week before her fifteenth birthday. Esther couldn’t believe it was happening. The Mistress liked nothing better than to break an orphan’s spirit – though she hadn’t succeeded with Esther. But if she was forced to be evacuated and lost contact with Dorothy, Esther feared she might finally crack. After years of staying so strong, she couldn’t bear it.
On Dorothy’s last visit, the sisters sat on the wooden bench in front of the ivy creeper on the mansion wall.
‘I have news,’ Dorothy told her. ‘I’ve found a flat.’ Esther’s heart raced and Dorothy smiled, showing a row of perfect white teeth. ‘I didn’t tell you before in case negotiations fell through. It’s not far from here. A place called Whale Street.’
The Orphan Sisters: An Utterly Heartbreaking and Gripping World War 2 Historical Novel Page 5