An Orphan's War

by Molly Green

  She put a hand on her stomach. It felt exactly the same. She thought there might have been a slight swelling by now. Maybe it wasn’t true. Maybe she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. After all, she’d never been to the doctor’s to have it confirmed. But if she were honest, she didn’t need to. She knew she was going to have a baby with every beat of her heart.

  Christmas was very quiet. Her mother seemed pathetically grateful that she was home, and as far as her father was concerned, he had actually improved since Maxine had last seen him. Of course she was relieved and pleased but it made her feel even more guilty that she’d used him as an excuse to return to Liverpool.

  ‘I don’t like to ask, dear, when you’ve only been home a week, but when do you have to go back to London?’ Her mother busied herself wiping down the stove where some porridge had dripped.

  The question Maxine had been dreading.

  ‘I’ve got a little time yet.’ She stumbled over the words.

  Her mother looked at her sharply. ‘Is anything wrong, Maxine? You don’t seem your usual self. And you’re looking very pale. You haven’t even drunk your tea.’

  ‘I’m all right. We don’t get a lot of sleep at night with the bombing and night shifts, and we’re always short-staffed so we have to work twice as hard.’

  ‘Yes, your father and I listen to the wireless,’ her mother said, ‘though it’s been terrible here, too. Those Nazis are determined to destroy our docks.’

  ‘Have you heard from Mickey lately?’ Maxine needed to change the subject and her parents hadn’t even mentioned her brother since she’d been home.

  Her mother’s face closed. ‘He doesn’t write much. Only when he wants us to bring him something, poor lad.’

  ‘Do you know when he’ll be out?’

  ‘No.’ A tear dripped down her cheek. ‘I know my boy didn’t do those terrible things, Maxine. He’s not a bad boy, really.’

  Her mother was kidding herself. Maxine wanted to remind her that the police had found all the evidence they needed of his robberies, and since the war started he’d even been involved in black marketeering. Again, he’d been caught. It seemed disloyal to admit it – if only to herself – but she’d been relieved when he’d been put in jail. He wouldn’t be able to ruin anyone else’s life whilst he was behind bars.

  But there was no point in making any comment. Instead, she rose from the table and gave her mother a rare hug.

  Her mother gave her a small squeeze in return, then, as though embarrassed she’d gone too far, she began to clear the kitchen table. Maxine watched her for a few moments before taking up a tea towel and wiping the breakfast dishes, already washed and turned upside down on the draining board.

  The few seconds of closeness had gone. Maxine had almost blurted out that she was going to have a baby, but stopped herself in time.

  Upstairs in her old bedroom, Maxine lay on top of the bed, tucking an extra pillow under her head. Feeling a little disloyal, she couldn’t help comparing the comfort to her straw mattress at the hospital. She needed to think. Think what her next step should be. Where should she go before she had the baby? Who could she trust to ask advice?

  The answer came in a flash. Pearl! Her cousin. Pearl wouldn’t judge her. Maybe she could even stay with her when she started to show. And then afterwards … afterwards … then what? She couldn’t think beyond bringing the little one into the world.

  She’d write to Pearl straightaway.

  She began the letter three times, but in the end decided it would never be perfect. She simply needed to let Pearl know what had happened and if she could come and visit her for a few days.

  A letter came back by return.

  Dear Max,

  My goodness, you have got yourself into a right pickle, haven’t you? I can perfectly understand why you don’t want to tell Aunt and Uncle. They’d be so upset. Well, you know my flat. It’s very small, even for one person. But if there’s room in the heart, there’s room in the home, Mam always said. So, yes, of course you can stay. And not just for a few days. You’ll need longer than that. Stay as long as you like. I’m away quite a bit anyway with the rep company.

  Let Aunt and Uncle think you’ve gone back to St Thomas’. With a war on they won’t expect to see you that much. Then when it’s all over you can tell them you missed Liverpool so you’ve come back but you want to find your own place. After what you’ll have gone through you won’t want to live with them again, that’s for sure.

  I expect you plan to have the baby adopted.

  Much love,

  Pearl xx

  It was Pearl’s last sentence that made Maxine’s insides tremble with the enormity of her mistake.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Liverpool, January 1942

  Living with her cousin was the very opposite of living with her parents. Pearl had no rules at all. Maxine could come and go as she pleased. If she wanted to cook that was fine with Pearl. If she didn’t feel like, it she and Pearl would have a meal at the local café. Occasionally Pearl took her to the café near the theatre where she met her theatre friends, but Maxine felt uncomfortable not being able to join in properly with the conversation.

  ‘You will meet someone again, Max,’ Pearl said one night as they sat together in the flat. ‘They’re not all like that bounder.’

  ‘Maybe not.’ Maxine swirled the contents in her glass. Pearl’s words still cut through her. How could she have ever thought she loved him? She looked across at her cousin. ‘I need to get a job, Pearl, even if it’s just temporary, so that I can pay my way. It’s not fair to you to keep me.’

  ‘I owe you a favour … remember?’

  ‘You don’t owe me anything. I was glad to help.’

  ‘I couldn’t have given up my job without that money, Max. You helped me change my life. So it’s up to me to help you change yours.’

  Maxine threw her a wan smile. ‘You’ve more than done that by offering me a home. No, Pearl, it’s up to me to take control … but you know I’m really grateful for all you’ve done,’ she added hastily. ‘If I can just find something part-time to give me some cash and stop me going cuckoo on my own.’

  Pearl nodded. ‘I can see that. But it’ll have to be somewhere where Aunt and Uncle never go, and don’t have any friends who ever go either.’ She looked thoughtful, then suddenly brightened. ‘I’ve got it! They’re advertising for someone to help in the bar at the theatre. You could make a few bob there and apparently the tips are good, too.’ She got up to poke the fire which was in danger of dying out.

  Maxine’s heart plummeted. This was not what her parents had scraped and saved for. Their daughter behind a bar. But what choice did she have? No one would take her on permanently when she told them she was going to have a baby in a few months’ time. Serving in the bar she could probably get away with another three months before she showed, and she’d be able to give Pearl some money for her food and lodgings.

  ‘What do you think, Max?’ Pearl turned her head from the fire.

  ‘I think it might be the answer for a few months. Can you tell me who I need to talk to?’

  Pearl rewarded her with a beaming smile.

  Maxine was offered the job immediately.

  ‘You’ll need a bit of training if you’ve never done this sort of work before,’ her new boss, Graham Grant, said, a knowing smile hovering over his too-full mouth. ‘But with your looks, you’re bound to bring them in.’

  He really thought he was paying her a compliment, Maxine realised, pushing down the surge of anger that threatened to bubble to the surface. But she pressed her lips together. It wouldn’t do to cheek him. She needed this job more than he needed her.

  ‘I’m a quick learner,’ she said mildly.

  Training was all of half an hour and that was done by Betty, the other barmaid. She had long bleached hair and dangling earrings and wore a thick coat of make-up.

  ‘You want to make more of those eyes of yours, love,’ she said. ‘Here, I’ll le
nd you my charcoal eyeliner.’

  ‘No, really, thank you – you’re very kind.’

  ‘You want to take my advice,’ Betty said, her crimson lip curling as she slotted a clean glass into the rack above. ‘The boys love it. You’ll make lots more tips if you let them think you’re interested.’ She paused and looked Maxine up and down with a complete disregard for manners. ‘Have you got a feller?’

  ‘No. No one.’ Please don’t let her ask anything more.

  Betty’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘What? A nice-looking girl like you.’ Her mouth formed into a wicked smile and she gave Maxine a theatrical wink. ‘I take it you do like men – in the right way, I mean?’

  ‘Yes, they’re all right,’ Maxine said, ignoring Betty’s last remark. She’d have to say something. ‘My husband was killed at the beginning of the war.’

  Betty’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, love. That’s me all over. Only open my mouth to change feet, is what my Albert always says.’ She gazed at Maxine. ‘You look so young to be a widow.’

  ‘There are thousands like me,’ Maxine said.

  ‘You must come and see me in Lady Behave,’ Pearl said when she slipped into the bar one lunchtime. ‘This week’s our last week and then we move on to Manchester. You could come Friday on your day off.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know … I’d love to see you but—’

  ‘No buts,’ Pearl broke in. ‘It’s set in Hollywood. Take your mind off things for a bit – you never go out.’ She reached for her handbag and pulled out a leaflet. She handed it to Maxine. ‘This’ll tell you a bit about it. I won’t spoil it by giving you too many details. I’ll get you a couple of free tickets. Bring a friend.’

  Maxine swallowed. ‘Just one ticket will be lovely, Pearl. Thank you. I’ll look forward to it.’

  It would probably be the last time she’d be able to go out without anyone suspecting her condition.

  It was strange to be getting ready to go to the Pavilion Theatre but not having to work in the bar as she’d been doing for the last month. Maxine took a last glance at herself. She had to stoop a little to see a head-to-toe image. She could hardly recognise the serious, sad face. How had her old self vanished so quickly? A young woman who was determined to live life to the full, even with a war on. The war hadn’t slowed the British one bit. They still came out with their usual irony and good humour.

  She forced a smile and the woman in the spotted mirror smiled back. Could anyone tell? She turned sideways, noticing how the turquoise dress she’d only worn that one time still skimmed lightly over her stomach and floated past her knees to the dark green suede shoes. She’d felt so wonderful in the dress when she’d worn it for Edwin. How happy she’d been. Now everything had changed. She wished she wasn’t wearing the dress with all its memories, but she had nothing else nice enough for the theatre. She made a grimace and picked up her coat, wishing she could turn back the clock. But it was time to leave and she didn’t want to miss a minute of Pearl’s show.

  Every day she went to her job at the theatre, Liverpool appeared worse than the day before. There’d been another bad raid only a few days ago, destroying more shops and people’s homes. Buildings that were left standing had their windows taped to stop people getting cut from flying glass, and sandbags were piled high outside, though Maxine always wondered if they really worked when the bombs rained down.

  It was heartbreaking to see two young men, one with a bandaged eye and his arm in a sling, the other on crutches with a leg missing, making their painful way along the broken pavements. She watched them peering at the ruins with the same puzzled expressions, as though to ask if it was all worth it. She swallowed as Johnny’s face flashed across her mind. At least these men were alive.

  Politely, she pushed her way through a crowd of men in expensive-looking coats and hats, standing in front of a heap of smashed offices. They were talking animatedly, some of them jotting down notes, puffing cigarettes as they spoke. As she passed by, Maxine heard one of them say, ‘Nice to do business with you, Harry,’ and the two men shook hands. She couldn’t help a wry smile. Liverpudlians were proving more resilient than Hitler had bargained for.

  Trams carved their way slowly through the wreckage. She inhaled deeply and hopped on one for the nearest stop to the theatre.

  She was in plenty of time. Enough to have a drink this side of the bar, but she didn’t want anyone who knew her to think she had no other life but the theatre. She decided to find her seat and peered at her ticket.

  ‘May I help you, Madam?’ Barry, too young to be called up, looked at her ticket. ‘You’re in the balcony,’ he said, pointing upstairs. ‘Second floor. Someone will show you your seat.’

  She climbed the two flights of stairs with a dozen others, all defiantly wearing their best clothes, in contrast to the drab daily wartime wear, chatting and laughing. They seemed to be the lucky ones. No one here with missing limbs or scarred faces. Everyone seemed to be with someone and Maxine felt self-conscious, as though people were staring at her.

  Telling herself not to be so ridiculous, she smiled at an elderly woman who was directing people to their seats. The woman pointed to the front row, a third of the way along, where there was only a low barrier between her and a long drop into the audience. Alarm flooded through her. Her head swimming, she sat down on her designated seat and pushed her back further into the chair, trying to put as many inches from the barrier and herself as she could.

  She took a deep breath, her hand on her stomach. Her heart felt like it was beating out of control. A column in front of her didn’t help. She twisted her head to see what angle was the best to get the full effect of the whole stage, but wherever she turned the view was no better.

  The lights dimmed and a couple arrived just as the curtain rose. They squeezed past, apologising profusely, as they made their way to seats on the other side of her.

  It was a light comedy with some good lines and a few pretty songs she’d never heard before. Pearl had a bigger part than she’d let on, and at one point had the stage to herself, where she sang a song recalling a fond memory of a man she’d loved and thought she’d lost. She had a surprisingly strong pure voice which Maxine had never heard. She clapped loudly with the others on Pearl’s last notes, but as soon as Pearl vanished into the wings, Maxine found it almost impossible to concentrate, she was so aware of the dizzying height of the balcony.

  Just at the point where she thought she would have to escape for some air, the lights went up for the interval. Maxine’s mouth was dry. She rose to her feet and followed a thick line of people through the exit and into the bar queue.

  As luck would have it, George was behind the bar; they usually worked together on the day shift.

  ‘Can’t keep away?’ he said, grinning.

  ‘My cousin’s in the show,’ Maxine said. ‘I promised her I’d come and see it before she moved on somewhere else.’

  ‘You’re a dark horse. You never said you were related to one of the stars. What’s her name?’

  ‘Pearl Love—’

  ‘Pearl? She’s your cousin? We adore her.’ He gave a nod of approval. ‘Now, what can I get you?’

  ‘A glass of lemonade, please.’

  George raised a brow. ‘Nothing stronger?’ He looked more closely at her. ‘You’re a bit pale. Are you all right?’

  ‘I am now.’

  George poured the lemonade. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘My seat. It’s so high up. I didn’t realise …’ If she was honest, she didn’t think she could go back to that horrible seat. She took some greedy swallows of the sharp lemonade.

  ‘There are some empty seats in the stalls and you’d get a much better view.’ George flipped the lid up from the bar and came through to her side, saying over his shoulder, ‘Josh, I’m just going to change Maxine’s ticket. Back in a mo.’

  The exchange took less than a minute.

  ‘I’m not going to charge you extra as you’re staff,’ the man at t
he ticket counter said, ‘even though this seat is nearly double the price.’ He winked at her.

  A bell rang.

  ‘Off you go,’ George said, smiling. ‘I think you’ll enjoy the show better now.’

  ‘Thank you so much, George. I know I will.’

  Her seat was only five rows from the front and only one empty seat away from the aisle. In fact, she’d take the aisle seat to stretch her long legs and put her coat on the other. Immediately she relaxed as she sat down. She could easily escape if she needed to. It was probably being pregnant that had made her feel so faint. The bell rang again, more urgently.

  ‘Excuse me, I believe you’re in my seat.’

  She was conscious of a musky masculine smell. The faintest whiff of tobacco. Without apologising, she moved into the seat that should have been hers and stared ahead, glad she’d moved nearer to the stage. The figure sat down.

  ‘Sorry about moving you, but it was probably easier than me trying to step over you,’ he said in a low tone. ‘You missed the first part. What a shame.’

  She turned her head towards him. A man, maybe in his late twenties, with thick, dark brown hair, gave her a sympathetic grin and she noticed his eyes crinkle in the fading light.

  ‘No, I saw it, but I was up there, at the very top.’ She gestured to the balcony. ‘I forgot how much I hate heights, so I changed my ticket.’

  ‘Well, you were right up with the gods.’ He shook his head, still smiling. ‘Not the best seats with all those pillars in the way.’

  She liked the sound of his voice. It was low and warm but had a ring of authority as if he was used to giving orders. He had a nice face. Not strictly good-looking. Craggy features. But a face that inspired confidence. He was dressed casually in dark trousers and a tweed jacket as though he’d only just made the decision to come to the theatre. She wondered idly if he was in the forces. He must be, she decided. He was the right age. She tried to picture him in the different uniforms, then shook herself. He was of no interest to her.