The Forgotten Orphan: The heartbreaking and gripping World War 2 historical novel

by Glynis Peters

  Maisie laughed and held Archie away from the cat to give it the opportunity to run free.

  ‘Right, Master Archie, I’m off to work. You behave for Mummy and I’ll see you soon.’ Maisie dropped a kiss on his head and gave Joyce a hug goodbye.

  Walking back to Shirley, she stared at the devastation around her and wondered what Canada looked like at that time of year. She envied them if they’d not had to suffer the enthusiastic bombings of the enemy that England had endured. February in England was always bleak, and even more so with so many destroyed family homes lying in heaps on the ground. The idea of eating Cam’s mother’s hot apple pie on a cold day kept her going.

  Once on duty, Maisie collected the post for patient delivery and to her delight saw a letter addressed to her in Cam’s handwriting. She avoided the temptation of opening it there and then, and let it burn a hole in her pocket whilst she worked. Once she finished the last of her chores, she battled against the bitter cold wind all the way to the cottage, checked on the chickens, and heated herself a bowl of vegetable soup.

  After she’d eaten, she settled down to read Cam’s letter.

  Somewhere in the World

  St. Valentine’s Day, 1944

  Dearest M,

  You are my Valentine and I hope I’m still yours. Sending kisses and all my love.

  The days are long and boring. The training is intense. Yes, training. Something’s afoot and we are being put through rigorous routines, but no one can tell us for how long – or where we are to be sent next. I’m with a great group of five men, three of us Canadian and the other three Brits. We all have girls waiting to see us, so it helps to know we are not alone in our loneliness. Judging by the activity, I suspect your brother is also busy.

  I’ve sent a few treats in a package but it’s anyone’s guess if it will ever arrive. It’s bleak and dismal here and my trek to the post office took me nearly two hours, mostly across fields filled with cattle.

  I’ve given some thought as to where I’d like to live when we settle in Canada. I’ve several options but, inspired by my surroundings, I think a recent offer I’ve received of living in Nova Scotia would be just the thing. We often took trips with my family to Green Bay and Blue Rocks, and it is surrounded by beautiful scenery. My uncle has a thriving lobster-fishing business at Blue Rocks and has asked me to consider working for him when I return. I won’t lie to you, the work will be hard and the place is isolated, so we could agree to try it for a year, for your sake. My cousin Larry was killed in Dieppe in ‘42 and my aunt and uncle have no other children. We’d inherit the business to continue on the family name. It’s a wonderful opportunity.

  We could go sailing on the LaHave river. We would need a small boat. Do you fancy building a boat for us to sail? Oh, my darling girl, we will have such a wonderful adventure together. Say yes to Nova Scotia. Say yes to lobsters. Say yes to wide open spaces.

  Be my wife. I realise that although we discussed marriage, I never actually proposed! I meant to on the beach that beautiful day we spent together in Bournemouth but never found the right moment. Say yes, say you’ll marry me. If only we had a telephone here, I’d make the call and hear you say it out loud. Write to me. Tell me yes.

  Another trek in the snow with a tuck and roll session is all I have to look forward to every day. Send me something to change my sorry mood.

  Much love my darling,

  Cam

  The ache inside Maisie’s chest was a physical pain as she clutched Cam’s letter close. Not a flutter or a twinge, but a full-blown ache as if she’d been punched. She thought of him trudging across snowy Scottish fields just to send her a letter. She was only guessing at Scotland and felt sure it was the place he was hinting about. She read the letter again and imagined the pair of them setting up home; she wasn’t sure what a lobster was or looked like, but they seemed to make Cam happy, so she’d be happy for him. She snatched up her pen.

  Holly Bush House

  February 20th 1944

  My dearest Cam,

  Your Christmas letter arrived today. I have very little to tell you, but what I do have is good news. Joyce is to remarry in a few weeks but will live a few doors away from Charlie’s family. Fred’s a good man and Archie will have a father to raise him. We can’t be anything but happy for her.

  Billy is finally leaving Holly Bush House. He’s got a job at a large house and will be responsible for cultivating the fruit trees and vegetable patches. I like to think I played a part in his recovery and it makes my heart sing to see him so happy.

  In answer to your questions, yes, yes, yes! Yes, I’ll marry you. Yes, I’ll move to Canada with you, and learn about lobsters. Yes, I’ll try and make a boat for us to sail in, and yes, to wide open spaces where our children will run free. Nova Scotia sounds so colourful with green and blue bays. I do hope we will be blessed with children. If we have a little girl, I’d like to name her Dee and Charlie for a boy. But first we must get through this war. You must survive and come home to me and we must marry. I am sad about your cousin, but I know you will make your uncle proud. I’ll do all I can to make your dreams come true. If we are together, I won’t be scared.

  There is little news of Jack. Eddie said he’s been to the Mediterranean and that’s all I know.

  I’ve sent another package of knitted items for you. It sounds as if they will come in useful unless they arrive after April when the weather is warmer! I look forward to receiving mine!

  I’ve written a few words for you. A poem to express how I feel – what I would say if we could speak on the telephone.

  For Cam

  When I close my eyes you are beside me,

  I hear you breathe, feel your warmth.

  I feel your touch, see your smile.

  When I open them, you are gone,

  And I am cold – alone. Lost.

  So, I will walk this earth, eyes closed,

  Until you return and kiss them open again.

  Come home to me soon and stay safe.

  My love always,

  Maisie

  PS: Stay warm, my darling.

  CHAPTER 29

  ‘I cannot believe we are wearing nylons to my wedding, Maisie. Your Cam is a lovely man,’ Joyce exclaimed when Maisie handed her the gift.

  Cam’s parcel arrived several weeks after he sent it and Maisie opened it with care. Inside were two pairs of nylons, a bottle of Blue Grass by Elizabeth Arden perfume, and a bracelet formed from twine and small coloured beads with a note to say that Cam had made it during his rest times. Maisie’s smile couldn’t get any wider as she lifted out each item. The parcel had arrived when Joyce’s wedding was only ten days away. Maisie knew a pair of nylons would be the best wedding gift she could offer and chose to give her friend a pair rather than store them away.

  The wedding moved Maisie more than she’d thought it would. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t put Charlie’s face from her mind. When the ceremony was over, they went to Joyce’s new home and celebrated with a small supper. Fred was shy, and since most of their family members had been unable to travel or get time off, it had been a small, quiet affair. When Maisie left the newlyweds, she pondered her own wedding, and wrote to Cam with her thoughts.

  Holly Bush House

  May 29th 1944

  Dearest Cam,

  Thank you for my gifts! What a wonderful, thoughtful man you are. I made full use of them today when Joyce and Fred said their vows. Archie stole the show as he clapped and chattered his way through the ceremony. I had mixed emotions but couldn’t help but be happy for them.

  One of the nurses here told me they have family in Nova Scotia after I mentioned you wanted to live there when we are married. Her aunt settled there after the Great War. They write often and said they will mention me in their letters to encourage their relatives to send news for me to read. Isn’t that kind?

  We are full to bursting with patients now, and beds fill every room in all the buildings. The nurses are pushed to their limits
and the assistants like me are encouraged to help where we can in their place. Today I was asked to step in and help a doctor with a surgical procedure. I said yes, of course. If the poor patient was brave enough to fight on my behalf, I felt it my duty to make sure he was given a chance. It was one of the most dreadful things I’ve ever witnessed. Let’s just say that the man will never shake hands again. This war, this dreadful war, needs to end. I must have you back whole and handsome, ready to whisk me away across the waters. I refuse to fly, so do not even consider a parachute with my name embroidered on it as a wedding gift!

  I took myself into Southampton today and the activity down there is frantic. Soldiers and vehicles queued for miles. Children were shouting out for gum, so there must have been GIs amongst the crowds. I’d rather have an ice cream again, or a large bar of real chocolate. Gum is a treat, but ice cream and chocolate made with milk are my favourite. Listen to me, moaning about missing sweet treats when people have bigger problems to deal with!

  I picked up two packs of cigarettes that were thrown my way but I gave them to my friend after trying one. I coughed so hard I scared her, and she took them from me with gratitude. I told her I was the grateful one. I never want to smoke again!

  Oh Cam, it’s been so long since we held each other. My arms feel empty. I should imagine it’s how a mother feels when sending a child off to war or evacuating them, or worse. I try and think of happy things and hold on to funny events that happen around me, just to stop the doldrums taking hold in my head. I’ve a new book to read, Little Women, and it is a wonderful story about sisters and growing up. Am I greedy to want sisters when I’ve only just found a brother? I think I’d love to write a book one day but I wouldn’t know where to start. For now, I’ll stick with poetry. My words do become quite gloomy at times, but it helps me work through my emotions. If I didn’t, I think I’d go mad.

  I was reminded today of Florence Nightingale, and of her courage. What an incredible woman. I wrote a tribute poem and thought you might like to read it. I think my pen might run dry if I keep scribbling the nights away, but I have to write. It’s become more than a hobby, more than a young girl’s passing fancy. I learn new words and how to use them. There’s a man who volunteers here; he’s a poet and insists I read my words out loud. He writes very complicated poems which take me a while to work out. He is just the sort of man I’d imagine a grandfather to be like. Another thing I’ve never experienced.

  For Florence – Respect

  Light flickers and shadows kiss,

  Tenderness from a loving Miss.

  Grace and gratitude entwine,

  Amongst twisted bodies line after line.

  Patients, patience all are yours,

  Defying death behind closed doors.

  A no-gun war, no hidden mine,

  Just twisted bodies line after line.

  A battle daily fought by all,

  Woman strong as man does fall.

  Respite none, no resting time,

  Only twisted bodies line after line.

  Touch releases white light sighs,

  As yet another brave man dies.

  Nightingale sings in silent rhyme,

  To her twisted bodies line after line.

  What do you think? Am I improving? My dearest, I’m tired now, so will rest as tomorrow will be another busy day. I’m also excited as one of the wives who will visit tomorrow saves her rations and bakes us cakes as a thank you. We love her for it!

  Take care, my love. Stay safe.

  Maisie

  ‘Maisie Reynolds? Maisie? Telephone call for you.’

  Dropping the pile of clean bandages, Maisie ran along the corridor to the telephone, dread pounding in the pit of her stomach.

  ‘Hello? Hello?’ she called down the line.

  ‘Now connecting you,’ came a female voice.

  ‘Maisie? Maisie? Can you hear me?’

  Cam’s voice echoed down a crackling line.

  ‘Cam! Cam, I can hear you. Where are you, are you well?’

  ‘I’m on my way back to Southampton. I’ve a forty-eight-hour pass and I need to see you. Don’t go anywhere. Wait for me.’

  Maisie gripped the telephone handset tightly to prevent her hand from shaking.

  ‘I’ll wait. I’ll be here. At mine.’

  ‘I love you, Maisie.’

  The telephone line clicked dead and Maisie replaced the handset. She held her breath, hoping for it to ring again, but after a while she realised Cam wasn’t going to call back. But he was on his way to her … She hurried to the main office and tapped on the door.

  ‘Enter.’ The voice of the senior sister rang out. Maisie straightened her apron and took a deep breath before entering.

  ‘Sister,’ she said as she stood tall in front of the desk piled high with brown files.

  ‘Reynolds. What can I do for you?’

  ‘I know we’re rushed off our feet, but I’ve just received a call to say my …’ She hesitated then ploughed on. ‘My fiancé has a forty-eight-hour pass and will be arriving later this evening, I think. I hope. It is short—’

  ‘You are asking for time off with your fiancé?’ The sister nipped her lips together and tapped her fingers on her desk.

  ‘Yes, but I—’

  ‘Gracious, Maisie. You are so formal. You work hard and rarely take time off. I think we can let you have two days’ leave. We have a full staffing list at present, so go and enjoy your forty-eight-hours. I’ve had a call from mine too and he’s not able to get leave. Time is precious, so go and make the most of it.’

  ‘Thank you. Thank you. I’ll work double shifts when I get back. I am so grateful.’

  The sister waved her hand towards the door.

  ‘Go before I change my mind,’ she said with a smile, and Maisie didn’t need telling twice.

  By nine in the evening she began to regret leaving work so early. Her mind raced with excitement and time moved slowly. She picked up her book but couldn’t read. By midnight, she gave up on waiting for Cam and changed into her night clothes. Disappointment sat heavily on her shoulders as she climbed into bed. In the silence and darkness she no longer fought the tiredness and drifted off to sleep.

  A tinny pinging sound disturbed her slumber and awakened at the unusual sound. It came from outside. Pulling aside her curtain a fraction, she jumped back as something clicked against the windowpane. A stone.

  She peered down into the garden and in the intermittent moonlight, she spotted Cam about to throw another. She tapped on the window and waved down to him. Jumping from her bed, tugging on her dressing gown as she went, she raced downstairs to the door and pulled it open to let him inside.

  ‘Hello, you,’ she said and fell into his open arms.

  His clothing felt damp with night dew and she moved away and lit the oil lamp on the table.

  ‘Take your jacket off and hang it on the back of the chair.’

  Cam did as she said, and as he did so he yawned. He looked tired and unshaven.

  ‘You’re exhausted. Look at you. I’ve got milk; I’ll boil some.’

  Cam smiled.

  ‘You spoil me,’ he said and bent to unlace his boots.

  ‘It’s my duty,’ Maisie called from the kitchen.

  ‘I’d have been here sooner except the trucks were held up getting into town. I hitched a lift with a doctor heading this way. He stopped to offer me a lift and we found we were both headed to the same place.’

  Maisie placed the mug of warm milk on the table.

  ‘It’s warm but not boiling so don’t let it go cold. You were walking here? In your condition? You look exhausted, Cam. It’s late. Let’s head for bed and rest.’

  Cam picked up his drink and drank it down in one go.

  ‘Heading for bed and resting is not quite what I had in mind, Maisie Reynolds.’ Cam winked.

  ‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that, Harry Cameron,’ Maisie said with a giggle.

  CHAPTER 30

  ‘Maisie Reyno
lds – born Julie Reynolds. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

  Maisie looked down at Cam who was on bended knee. The shadow of the walnut tree did not overshadow the sparkle from a round solitaire diamond supported on a gold band nestling inside a green velvet box. It was delicate and pretty and most unexpected. Their last few hours had been spent making love and appreciating the time they had together. Cam warned her he was about to embark on an important mission connected with the activities she’d witnessed in Southampton. Maisie had seen him pacing the garden smoking but she’d thought his edginess in the last hour had been down to the mission; she never dreamed he’d propose, let alone produce such a beautiful ring.

  His eager face stared up at her, and although he knew her answer would be yes, she saw the anxiety of a pending no in his face.

  ‘Of course. Yes! Yes, I’ll be your wife. Maisie will marry you, and adore you for the rest of her life, but I suppose Julie will have to sign the papers. It galls me that my marriage certificate will bear that name.’

  Before she could utter another word, Cam had slipped the ring on her finger and kissed her lips with a fierceness he’d never shown before. A loud shout and applause came from a window across the grounds, and they turned to see the staff waving their congratulations. An eagle-eyed member of staff must have spread the word.

  ‘We will find a way to get your name changed. You will always be Maisie Cameron to me and that’s the most important thing in the world right now.’

  Maisie twisted her hand one way and then the other to watch the light glint off the diamond.

  ‘I can’t believe you found time to buy me a ring. It’s so pretty.’

  ‘It’s amazing what you find in Scotland,’ Cam said, taking her hand as they walked back to the cottage.

  ‘I was right, you were training in Scotland!’ she said.

  ‘Important training,’ Cam said, and Maisie noticed him shudder.

  ‘Are you scared?’ she whispered.

  Cam shook his head.

  ‘Nervous, but not scared. We’re about to show Hitler the door. By the time I’ve jumped I’ll be too busy to be scared.’