The Orphan Sisters: An Utterly Heartbreaking and Gripping World War 2 Historical Novel

by Shirley Dickson

  Bonny lass,

  Thank God you’re all right! We had a close call, didn’t we? May wrote and told me about the bombing and about your ‘terrifying experience’. When she said you’d survived I’ve never felt so relieved.

  What a brave lass. I never got to give you a cuddle or tell you how good I felt after… you know. Don’t rebuke yourself – what we did wasn’t wrong because we were both keen and it was meant to happen. I won’t forget that night and all for the right reasons.

  For the record, I was knocked out cold in the shelter. Apparently, the rescue team got me out and I was taken by ambulance to the infirmary where I regained consciousness sometime during the night. I asked about you but no one knew anything. I was at my wits’ end but could do nothing without drawing attention to the fact we were together. And neither of us wants that. Man, did I have a stinker of a headache the next day.

  I’m hunky-dory now and wish I had photo of you. Trouble is I don’t know when I’ll get to see you. Everything’s hush hush here and I don’t know when I’ll get leave.

  Minx, I can’t get you out of my mind. Bloody war! I want to see you again. I’m thrilled I met you and go around with this idiotic smile.

  What are we going to do, eh? It’ll all have to wait. Can you wait? You must.

  I promise I’ll sort things out. I’m pining for you, kiddo.

  Write to me,

  Love,

  Billy

  Etty sat staring into space for a long while. Then, slowly, deliberately, her fingers betraying her pain, she ripped the letter into small pieces and threw them into the fire. Watching them burn, she gave a yearning sigh. If only, she thought, she could have a dalliance without care – but she knew she couldn’t. Since the night of the bombing she’d thought about Billy every single day. Despite the fact that she ached for him, Etty couldn’t cross the line of breaking up a relationship. Guilt tormented her, yet like a recurring dream, the scenes spent in the shelter with Billy wouldn’t go away.

  In disbelief at what she was doing, Etty wrote a brief letter. She told Billy it was over between them and he must never try to see her again.

  Early one morning, nine days after the terrible bombing of Shields marketplace, Trevor nipped over to the corner shop for his ration of tea.

  ‘Poor lass,’ Mrs Moffatt, the owner of the shop, was saying to a customer at the front of a waiting queue. ‘She was trapped in the marketplace shelter after them bombings.’

  ‘Who d’you say it was?’ the customer asked.

  Mrs Moffatt measured a ration of sugar into a blue bag. ‘Etty Makepeace… from across the road.’

  ‘And was she saved?’

  ‘Aye. She was one of the lucky ones.’ Mrs Moffatt handed over the bag of sugar.

  As though someone had thumped him in the gut, the wind went out of Trevor. Racing from the shop and over the road, he stood uncertainly outside Etty’s front door. He ached to see her but feared her reaction.

  God, how he’d missed her and how he’d berated himself for the mindless anger that had caused him to hurl such hurtful words. She, too, had said her share of unkind things but on reflection, it had been two wilfully stubborn people having a lovers’ tiff. Now especially, having heard of her ordeal, it was the time to forget foolish pride and patch things up.

  As he raised his hand to the knocker, Trevor was startled to see the door swing open and Etty’s sister standing on the front step.

  ‘Oh, hello, Trevor… how lovely to see you. You’ve come to see Etty, have you?’

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘To be honest, not as good as she thinks.’ Dorothy’s brow was furrowed. She stepped down onto the pavement. ‘I’m so glad you called. I’ve to go to work and I loathe leaving Etty on her own. It’s her day off and she’s got too much time to think.’ She touched his arm, looked knowingly at him. ‘Go on in, she needs a friend right now.’

  Etty sat on the couch staring into space as was her wont these days. Her emotions dulled, she felt neither pleasure nor pain and kept reliving those hours in the shelter when the drone of enemy planes thundered overhead. In those snatched moments, under the cloak of darkness, she had really thought she was going to die and selfishly hadn’t thought of the consequences. Now, her conscience wouldn’t let her forget.

  Hearing footsteps along the passageway, and the kitchen door opening, she turned.

  ‘Dorothy, what have—’

  Trevor stood there, his sparkling green eyes observing her with a concerned expression.

  ‘Dorothy said to come in.’

  Etty smiled. He sounded like a school kid, unsure if he’d be scolded or not.

  She regarded his familiar features, his broad shoulders, his air of solid dependability – so different from Billy – and she found she was glad he was here. A warm glow radiated within her, though the loathsome words she’d flung at him rang in her ears and she too felt unsure.

  ‘It’s good to see you.’

  His face relaxed.

  How could she be in love with two men? Etty thought, two men as different as chalk and cheese.

  ‘Look here, I want to apologise for––’

  Guilt pulsed through her. ‘Don’t, Trevor… we both said foul things that night we regret.’

  He nodded and came to sit beside her on the couch. His familiar masculine odour masked the smoky smell from the fire. She inhaled deeply.

  ‘How are you really?’

  She wanted to confide in him, to tell him how terrified she’d been in the shelter but how could she with the secret she harboured?

  ‘I’m doing fine… I’m back at work.’ She kept her voice light.

  ‘You don’t fool me.’ He placed his arm around her. ‘Etty, you can’t wish an experience like that away. It takes time.’

  It felt good to be with him. She let herself sink into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder.

  ‘Can we start all over again?’ he asked.

  She sat bolt upright. ‘Trevor, I’m not the person you think. I’ve done something…’

  He tilted her chin and gave her a lingering kiss. So much for not being romantic, Etty inwardly thought.

  When she surfaced, he pulled away, smiling tenderly. ‘What’s done is done,’ he said, silencing her. ‘It’s what we do now that counts.’

  A voice in Etty’s head nagged that she was being unfair to Trevor, but she couldn’t help wanting a second chance.

  She nodded, forcing a smile.

  Seven weeks passed. It was dinner time and, as Etty stood in the queue, the smell of food wafting from behind the counter nauseated her.

  Choosing only mashed potato and peas with a bit of gravy, she found a seat at a long table with the rest of the company from the machine room. She tried to follow the conversation, but her grasshopper mind of late kept leaping from one disturbing thought to another. Scenes from her terrible ordeal flashed through her mind’s eye – the screams of planes, the awful smells, the cries for help, the row of lifeless bodies beneath blankets. She felt so weary all the time, as though she suffered from some debilitating illness. She thought fondly of Trevor who was always there to help her through, caring for her like an invalid.

  To add to her distress, she kept daydreaming about the experience she’d had with Billy. Something had awakened within her and she couldn’t go back to being the innocent girl she once was. But she was normal, Etty realised with relief. She had amorous feelings and she wasn’t a product of Blakely after all.

  Then, there was the guilt that she was living a lie. Etty could hardly look at herself in the mirror. When she did stare at the haunted white face, overwhelmed with shame, Etty was stricken by how deceitful she was being.

  Now, as she sat at the table, trying to eat a morsel of food, the band of her skirt digging into her waist, she was overcome by nerves. She sniffed and told herself to buck up. If what she suspected was true then she’d only got what she deserved.

  The sight of May Robinson appearing, wearing an apron and a
white cap covering her hair, only served to heighten Etty’s guilt.

  May began clearing the dirty dishes from the table.

  ‘You haven’t finished your dinner.’ She stared with concern at Etty ‘Are you all right?’

  Etty coloured. ‘I’ve got a stomach upset and I only fancy certain foods.’

  ‘You should stay off work for a couple of days.’ May scraped the remains off the plate with a look that suggested she would quite like to eat it herself.

  Without thought, Etty blurted, ‘Any word from Billy?’

  A look of pleasure crossed May’s face, and she balanced her tray on the back of Etty’s chair.

  ‘Not for a bit. Last time he wrote he said he was bored. He wishes his battalion would move on. What a fella… always on the lookout for excitement.’ She shook her head in mock exasperation.

  Regarding May, the innocent she was, Etty hated the deceiver she’d become.

  Still, she couldn’t resist asking the question, ‘He’s not been sent abroad, then?’

  May blanched. ‘No. Might he be?’

  ‘I don’t know… I mean, I just wondered.’

  May brightened. ‘What a fright you gave us. I thought you knew something I didn’t. Tell you what, though, he’s so canny. Since the bombings, he keeps asking after you.’

  ‘That’s… good of him.’

  ‘I’ll tell him we chatted.’

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t.’

  ‘Oh!’ May went pink as though she’d done something wrong.

  The song, ‘We’ll Meet Again’ blared from the canteen loudspeakers like an omen.

  Bertha watched on from the other side of the table and gave Etty the blackest of looks. Etty squirmed uneasily. Bertha never mentioned the night of the bombing, but she’d been reserved with Etty, as if she was sizing her up ever since. Etty was upset because she valued the older woman’s friendship but she never dared bring the subject up.

  ‘There’s no harm in my Billy, you know,’ May’s expression was anxious. ‘He’s a friendly lad… as friendly as they come.’

  Didn’t Etty know it.

  Later, at home, Dorothy remarked, ‘I still haven’t heard from Laurie. I bet a bunch of letters arrives together next week. Honestly, talk about feast or famine.’

  Her hair was pulled back with clips, black smudges from black-leading the fireplace marked her face like war paint, and she smelt of lavender polish. The furniture in the kitchen gleamed from all her hard work.

  She didn’t fool Etty, though, who knew her sister’s need to keep busy when she hadn’t heard from her husband in a long while.

  Etty shrugged out of her outdoor coat and slung it over a chair. ‘You should have left me something to do.’

  ‘I did. I’ve changed the beds and there’s a mountain of washing in the basket. I do mean to wash my undies out every day but I’m whacked after work.’ Dorothy shook her head. ‘How your friend Bertha manages to work and run a family, I’ll never know.’

  A picture of Bertha’s disapproving face flashed in Etty’s mind.

  ‘Dorothy…’

  ‘Uh huh.’

  ‘I’m… pregnant.’

  There was moment of silence during which Etty could swear she heard her heart beating.

  Dorothy’s eyes brimmed with compassion. ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘I thought you’d be shocked.’

  ‘Not shocked… more surprised. How long have you known?’

  ‘I’ve sort of wondered for a while. It’s been two months now since… you know. And I feel dreadfully queasy most mornings.’

  ‘Ahh! That’s why you skipped breakfast. Poor you… carrying the worry alone. Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I was ashamed.’

  ‘Nothing you ever do, Etty, would make me lose respect for you.’

  Nothing? Etty winced.

  In these parts, a child born out of wedlock was tantamount to mortal sin. Folk weren’t apt to forgive or forget, and Dorothy would be tainted with the same brush as her sister.

  Etty’s eyes blurred. ‘I knew I could count on you.’

  ‘I should think so too. Have you seen Doctor Meredith?’

  Etty shook her head.

  ‘Then I insist that you do. Have you told Trevor yet?’

  ‘He…’ The urge to tell Dorothy the whole sordid mess overwhelmed Etty, but how could she confess to such an act with May’s fiancé? ‘No. Not yet.’

  ‘If I may ask… are you two planning to marry?’

  ‘Trevor has suggested we get engaged.’ At least that wasn’t a lie.

  She hadn’t yet had the courage to tell Trevor he wouldn’t want her now she was used goods.

  ‘Etty, I know Laurie will agree when I say this. I’ll stand by you, whatever you decide.’

  A rush of emotion engulfed Etty and she was so choked she couldn’t speak. All she knew was that when God gave her Mam as a parent she was short-changed, but by giving her Dorothy as a sister, he’d more than made up for his mistake.

  Thinking about what they’d been through together – Mam abandoning them, the ordeal of Blakely – how could she not tell Dorothy the truth? They were a team and had never kept anything from each other. Etty wouldn’t start now or she’d never be able to look her sister in the eye again.

  ‘Dorothy I…’ A hard ball of anxiety in her stomach, she blurted, ‘The baby isn’t Trevor’s.’

  Dorothy stared open-mouthed. She recovered and asked, ‘I don’t understand… then whose baby is it?’

  ‘Billy Buckley’s.’

  ‘May’s fiancé?’

  Etty would rather have crawled through a den of snakes than been responsible for the look of horror she saw register on her sister’s face.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How…’

  ‘The night of the October bombing.’

  ‘Does anyone else know? Does Bill––’

  ‘No one knows.’

  Dorothy lapsed into a frowning, thoughtful silence.

  Eventually, she spoke. ‘I think we should keep it that way for the baby’s sake – and all our sakes.’

  Etty gave a weak smile. Trust Dorothy to consider this problem as hers too.

  ‘But Etty, I must insist that if you accept Trevor’s proposal you have a duty to tell him about the baby.’

  Etty gulped.

  The couple walked in inky blackness down Whale Street. Trevor, carrying a torch, pointed it down towards the pavement, its beam covered with tissue paper in accordance with regulations. Etty kept well away from the kerb because, although kerbstones were painted white, luckless pedestrians were known to trip and land in the main road. As she groped to link arms with him, she was reminded of the childhood game of blind man’s bluff.

  More confident now that she’d confided in Dorothy, Etty steeled herself to be truthful with Trevor. Yet she was nervous because he didn’t deserve to be treated so shoddily. None of this was his fault and Etty was ashamed of the heartache she’d cause. And besides, over these last weeks their courtship had spiralled into something special. Trevor, on more than one occasion, had hinted at something long-lasting.

  ‘Who’s organising this dance we’re going to?’ he asked.

  ‘The Home Guard. One of the lasses at work invited us. But Trevor, we need to talk first.’

  ‘Yes, I agree. I’ve got something for you.’

  ‘Why the secrecy?’

  ‘I wanted to wait till you were fully recovered.’

  He appeared jubilant and Etty was loath to spoil his mood. She wanted this meeting over and considered it best to tell him in the dark when she couldn’t see his reaction. She’d be unable to bear it.

  ‘I think we should break it off,’ she gabbled, her heart pounding in the black of night.

  Silence.

  Then, ‘Who is he?’

  ‘Pardon me?’

  ‘The bloke you’re carrying on with.’

  Her heart sank; there was no use in trying to pretend. ‘It’s not because of hi
m. Anyway, it’s over.’

  ‘Pull the other one.’

  ‘It’s true.’

  ‘If that’s the truth, why do we have to finish?’

  Why not tell him? He’d find out anyway.

  Etty swallowed hard. ‘I… I’m going to have a baby.’

  ‘What? Is this some kind of joke?’

  ‘It was one of those things… a one-night affair that happens in war.’ Her voice tremored as she uttered the truth.

  ‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?’

  She’d done wrong and Trevor deserved an apology but what words would be enough? She didn’t know how she would ever make it up to him.

  ‘Trevor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t intend to hurt––’

  ‘Do I know him?’ he interrupted.

  ‘I’m being as honest as I can but please… don’t ask me to tell you his name.’

  He grabbed her by the arm.

  ‘Trevor let go… you’re hurting me.’

  ‘I feel like strangling yi.’

  ‘You can’t make me feel worse than I already do.’ She imagined his handsome face clouded with betrayal and it was difficult to go on, but she’d made up her mind to be forthright. ‘You can walk away and there’ll be no hard feelings.’

  ‘You didn’t imagine I’d stay, did you?’

  With a flash of insight, Etty realised that deep down she’d clung to the hope that, against all odds, he’d look past her transgression and be her saviour.

  ‘Trevor, I am very fond of you…’ she heard herself say. ‘I would very much like for us to marry and not just because of the baby.’

  He let out a gasp.

  ‘Please hear me out… I do want a home of my own. And by your own admission, you want to be independent of your mam. We could make a go of it. A contract, if you like. I’ll cook and keep house and, for your part, all I ask is that you give the baby a name. And Trevor, there’s no hard feelings if the answer is no.’

  ‘Of course the answer is no.’

  Footsteps stomped away. Etty didn’t realise she’d been standing so rigid until a pain stabbed the side of her neck. Resigned now to the fact that the life inside her would be born a bastard, Etty straightened her spine and made to move down the street, tears pricking her eyes.