An Orphan's War

by Molly Green

  ‘It certainly would.’ Crofton leafed through the dozen or so envelopes. ‘I’ll just have a look at the last one he sent. Are they in date order?’ She nodded. ‘Okay, let’s see if he’s made any progress on his plans, whatever they might be. We could be completely wrong about him, so we shouldn’t get our hopes up.’

  He pulled out the only sheet of paper, his lips moving as he quickly read through it. She was fascinated. His mouth was such a beautiful shape. Lips that turned up a little at the corners as though he could easily break into smiles and laughter.

  ‘I think we’re definitely on to something,’ he said looking up, catching her staring at him. She looked quickly away. ‘This is written a fortnight later. I’ll cut out the romantic stuff …’ he gave her a wink, ‘and read you this bit. I am pleased to tell you that she’s come round that mountain.’

  ‘That definitely sounds like a code,’ Maxine said excitedly, ‘else why would he change the words?’

  ‘Exactly. Something he’s planned has happened. We just need to find out what.’

  And then it struck her with such force she almost reeled. ‘Crofton! We’re right!’

  ‘What is it, love?’

  He looked at her and Maxine felt a flame leap between them. He’d called her ‘love’, though it was probably the excitement of the moment. She’d think about it when she was alone in her room.

  Feeling her cheeks flush a little, desperate to concentrate, she said, ‘We all sang that song shortly after Peter came here. Athena, by coincidence, chose it along with some others. She started it off and two or three of the older children knew it and chimed in. Peter was in the row behind, but I could see his face. It kind of crumpled and then he suddenly rushed out. I didn’t put two and two together until now. I’d just thought he hated being with a group of children who always ignored him.’

  ‘He clearly knows that song very well,’ Crofton said. ‘Are you going to speak to him?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Maxine glanced at her watch. ‘June shouldn’t be too long. We’ll tell her what you’ve translated and what we think.’

  ‘Would June mind if I stayed here and listened to what Peter has to say?’

  ‘I don’t think she’d mind at all.’ Maxine collected the coffee cups and plates together and put them neatly on the tray, wishing her heart would stop thumping so loudly. At this rate he’d be able to hear it. ‘I’ll just take this to the kitchen and go and find him.’

  Minutes later she was back with a sulky-looking Peter, but his face lit up when he saw who was in the library.

  ‘Hello, Sir,’ he said, thrusting out his hand.

  Crofton took it in his own large one. ‘The same to you, young sir,’ he said. ‘And thank you for coming to talk to us.’

  ‘That’s all right, Sir.’

  He gave Crofton a rare smile and Maxine’s heart soared at the trust between the two of them, until she remembered why they were all here.

  ‘Peter,’ she began, after he was seated, ‘we need to ask you something and you’re probably the only person who would know the answer.’

  Peter’s smile quickly faded. He silently stared at her.

  ‘Do you know the song “She’ll be coming round the mountain when she comes”?’

  Maxine watched him closely. Was that a tightening round Peter’s mouth, a glint of alarm in his eyes, or was it just her imagination?

  ‘No, Miss.’

  ‘Are you absolutely certain?’ Crofton gently questioned the boy. ‘You know Nurse Taylor and I can be completely trusted not to get you in any sort of trouble.’

  ‘I know, Sir.’ Peter looked in Maxine’s direction but kept his head lowered. ‘May I go now, Miss?’ He shuffled his feet as though he couldn’t get away fast enough.

  ‘Peter,’ Crofton said softly, giving Maxine a very gentle nudge under the table, ‘may I talk to you in private – just the two of us?’

  Peter nodded.

  Crofton caught her eye and Maxine immediately rose to her feet, leaving the two of them together. She only hoped June would not be annoyed with her for leaving Peter alone with Crofton to deal with such a confidential and sensitive subject.

  She didn’t know what to do with herself. All she could think of was Crofton, trying to talk man-to-man with Peter. But she knew one thing. She trusted Crofton completely that he would say and do the right thing. But for now she’d have to wait patiently. She’d pop down to the ward and see how her charges were getting on.

  She gave Crofton a quarter of an hour, and then went back up the steps and towards the library. Carefully opening the library door, she was in time to hear Crofton say, ‘Your secret is safe with me, but I need your permission to tell it to the right people so we can try to locate your father.’

  Maxine hesitated, then stepped into the open doorway where Crofton and Peter sat close together, his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

  ‘Ah, there you are,’ Crofton said, standing up.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ She glanced at him.

  Crofton nodded.

  She tried not to linger on Peter’s tear-stained face but said brightly, ‘The children are just going in for dinner so why don’t you follow them in?’

  Peter scrambled up, then sought Crofton’s eye. ‘I don’t mind if you tell Nurse Taylor about Papa,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you, Peter.’ Crofton smiled at him. ‘Now run along and join the others.’

  ‘My goodness,’ Maxine said, taking Peter’s seat. ‘What happened?’

  ‘He spilt the beans.’ Crofton sat down again. ‘It’s quite a story, but the quick version is that before Peter and his mum came to England, Herr Best had a private talk to Peter. He told him he must be good and take care of his mother. That whatever anyone said, Peter must always believe his father is a good man and a good German, and after the war people would find out not all Germans were bad people. He promised Peter he’d come to England one day for him and his mother, even if it took a long time. But until then Peter had to remember the song, but never sing it unless he was completely by himself. Even if he only sang it in his head, he would know his mother and father were near him and thinking of him. Oh, and he must never, ever tell a living soul.’ As though without thinking, Crofton took her hand. ‘Quite a burden for a five-year-old, as he was then, I should think.’

  ‘Poor little chap.’ Maxine genuinely felt for him but she couldn’t stop the fierce beating of her heart when her hand was so firmly and warmly in Crofton’s. ‘Do you still think it could be a code for planning something?’

  ‘I’ve no doubt about it,’ Crofton answered unhesitatingly. ‘Promising to come to England … not mentioning that he’d come when the war is over … To me, it sounds as though he’s in some kind of resistance movement and his letter smacks of escaping from Germany.’

  Goosepimples flashed up her arms and across her scalp.

  ‘If only we knew for certain that he’s still alive,’ she said softly.

  ‘We won’t know that unless he manages to step foot in England,’ Crofton said. ‘And if he does, he’ll be interned immediately.’

  ‘Until the end of the war?’

  ‘Probably. Any information he has, Baker Street will be most interested.’ He stroked her hand in an absent-minded fashion. ‘We have to hope for the best and expect the worst – that even if Herr Best has left Germany, I’m afraid it’s doubtful there’ll be a happy ending.’

  By the time June returned, Crofton had left. Maxine swiftly told her all Crofton had translated and what they suspected had happened.

  June’s mouth fell open. ‘It brings the war even closer somehow,’ she said. ‘A German who sounds like a good German trying to leave his country and what would be considered his duty to Hitler, to find his wife and son. And that his escape might have been successful.’

  ‘Crofton says we mustn’t put too much hope into that,’ Maxine said. ‘It would be a dangerous undertaking – especially as Peter hasn’t heard from his father for a year or so. I just pray
we don’t have to tell him more bad news. I don’t think he could bear it.’

  The following morning June asked Maxine if she could pop into her office for a few minutes. She took one look at June’s face, her eyes anxious, and knew she’d had some unpleasant news. Bracing herself, she sat down.

  ‘Oh, Maxine, I’ve had a letter from Mrs Brown. She’s threatened to report me for taking something which isn’t mine – the metal box.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous. We all know it belongs to Peter and we’re keeping it safe until it’s the right time to give it to him. And we can prove it’s his. But anyway, Mrs Brown said she couldn’t write.’

  ‘I expect she got someone to do it for her,’ June said. ‘Maybe Hilda. Anyway, she’s asking for ten pounds.’

  ‘Don’t let her do this,’ Maxine said crossly. ‘We’ll be depriving the children. And you’d have to clear it with Mr Clarke. I don’t think he’d be too happy.’

  ‘But she’s not going to let it rest,’ June said. ‘I’ve a good mind to report her to the police.’

  ‘Maybe as a last resort,’ Maxine said. ‘In the meantime why don’t we sent her a pound note inside a card to wish her and Hilda Merry Christmas? Then it can’t be looked upon as you succumbing to blackmail.’

  ‘Good idea,’ June said, then looked at Maxine and hesitated.

  ‘You look serious.’ Maxine’s heart turned over. June obviously wanted to say something more difficult than Mrs Brown’s pathetic attempt at blackmail. ‘Is there something else?’

  ‘Don’t take this the wrong way, Maxine,’ June said, her green eyes anxious, ‘but Mr Clarke telephoned the other day and wanted to know how you were getting on with your studies, and if you’d applied to take your finals. He reminded me that it was the one condition of hiring you.’

  ‘I haven’t forgotten, Junie.’ Maxine breathed out a sigh, glad it was nothing more ominous. ‘I’ve applied, but I might have to go back to St Thomas’ to take them. I had hoped I could do it at one of the hospitals here, and I’m still looking into it. It seems a long way to go just to take an exam.’

  ‘I’ll let him know,’ June said. ‘Anyway, I can’t afford to let you go off to London before we hire the new nurse.’

  ‘Is there any news on that?’

  ‘We have someone coming to see us next week,’ June said. ‘A Miss Dolores Honeywell.’

  ‘Sweet name,’ Maxine chuckled. ‘Let’s hope she lives up to it.’

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  December 1942

  Maxine carried the dress over her arm as carefully as she did on the day of her own wedding. What a lot had happened since then. She had a job she loved, looking after the children, and everything she did for them she hoped Teddy’s adoptive parents would be doing the same. For fleeting moments she could no longer conjure up his dear little face, his neat ears covered by a thick growth of auburn hair. The pain of her guilt was sometimes unbearable. She shook herself. She mustn’t keep thinking about Teddy – she had to let him go – for now, anyway. Perhaps one day when he’d grown into a young man … Until then he had loving parents who were looking after him. She prayed with all her heart that he meant the world to his new mummy and daddy.

  Now, glancing down at the dress, she hoped it would bring her friend better luck. Maxine had known as she’d walked down the aisle that she shouldn’t be marrying her best friend, Johnny – she should be feeling passion, not simply affection – but she’d been too much of a coward to say anything. She only hoped June was going into her marriage with those green eyes of hers wide open.

  Taking a deep breath and watching it stream out in the cold air, she knocked on June’s cottage door and walked in as June had invited her to. Immediately, Freddie came hurtling down the stairs wagging his tail and trying to jump up.

  Brrrr! It was cold this morning and the cottage wasn’t very warm. She quickly shut the door behind her.

  ‘Not today, Freddie, while your mistress needs to get ready.’ She patted his silky head, enjoying the feel of him; his smiling mouth and his enthusiasm. ‘Junie! It’s me.’

  She heard light footsteps tripping down the stairs and June appeared in her dressing gown, a little flushed now her big day was here.

  ‘Thanks for getting here early,’ June said, smiling. ‘Freddie, behave! Sorry, Maxine. I’m all at sixes and sevens. My hair won’t go right.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll do it for you before you put your dress on. Are you nearly ready?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve had my full five inches of bathwater,’ June laughed.

  Upstairs, Maxine sat her down at her dressing table and within a few minutes June’s thick fair hair was brushed through and swept up at either side with silver combs.

  ‘They were a present from Murray,’ June told her, turning her head each way, a delighted smile on her lips. ‘You’ve done it beautifully, Maxine. I could never have got it quite that perfect.’

  ‘Are you wearing a veil?’ she asked.

  ‘No, nothing that fancy.’ June grinned. ‘Murray will probably have difficulty recognising me in my beautiful dress as it is. He’s never seen me looking so glamorous.’

  ‘He’ll be thrilled. I can’t wait to meet him.’ Maxine opened her handbag and brought out a compact. ‘Here,’ she said. ‘Use this. I’ve washed the puff, so you can dab your cheeks and nose.’

  ‘You’re so thoughtful, Maxine,’ June said, looking up at her in the mirror after she’d powdered her nose. ‘And cutting down your dress just for me was such a lovely thing to do.’

  ‘Don’t be silly … it’s what friends are for.’ Maxine scrutinised the young matron. ‘All you need now is lipstick and a dash of scent. Not too much. You don’t want to drive him wild straightaway.’

  June laughed and then her expression turned serious. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Maxine, as I don’t have my mother, and I don’t think I could have asked her anyway – I’d be too embarrassed.’

  ‘I know exactly what you’re going to ask, Junie.’ June caught Maxine’s eye in the mirror. ‘And it does.’

  A frown stole over June’s forehead.

  ‘You’re talking about the wedding night, I presume. And yes, it hurts. But you get used to it. And then you might even like it.’

  June’s face was pink. ‘I keep worrying about it.’

  ‘Do you love him?’

  ‘More than anyone in the world.’

  ‘And he loves you?’

  ‘He says the same.’

  Maxine fought down a twinge of envy. ‘Then he’ll be gentle and loving and thoughtful. And you’ll be absolutely fine, though it is a bit painful the first time. The next is better and you’ll probably end up a brazen hussy asking him to make love to you at all times of the day and night.’

  They laughed together like young carefree women. It was good to feel like this, Maxine thought, even though it wasn’t real for her. But June’s friendship was real and she was truly grateful.

  She slipped the wedding dress over June’s head and fastened it, then arranged the imitation fur cape she’d made on June’s slender shoulders.

  ‘Walk across the room,’ she said. ‘You need to get used to the feel of the train.’

  ‘I’ve never worn anything so lovely and such a perfect fit in my life.’ June turned to Maxine, her eyes brimming.

  ‘You look absolutely beautiful,’ Maxine said, swallowing hard. ‘So if you don’t need your personal maid any longer I think I’d better go and change and make sure Lizzie is washed and in her bridesmaid’s dress. Athena said she’d help her, so I’ll go and check she’s ready.’ She looked at June. ‘By the way, when are you going to tell Lizzie the news?’

  ‘I think when we’re back from our honeymoon,’ June said, ‘which will be in exactly two days’ time.’ She gave a rueful grin.

  ‘Not long for a honeymoon,’ Maxine said. ‘But then Johnny and I only had three.’

  ‘Oh, Maxine, I’m being selfish talking about me when this must bring back sad memo
ries for you.’

  ‘You, selfish?’ Maxine chuckled. ‘You’re the least selfish person I know. And your wedding day is not in the least painful to me. I’m thrilled for you and can’t wait to meet the man of your dreams.’

  ‘You’re a dear.’

  ‘Nonsense.’ She brushed June’s cheek with a soft kiss. ‘Freddie will see me out, so you just sit down with a cup of tea as it’s still early. There’s no need to rush because today is your day.’

  ‘Do I look pretty?’ Lizzie screeched, immediately she spotted Maxine in the Great Hall. She was wearing a pink wool dress with a large pink bow in her hair and white socks and shoes.

  ‘Where’s the little furry cape I made you?’ Maxine asked.

  ‘I’ve got it here.’ Lizzie ran to the chair by the telephone table and grabbed it. She flung it around her small narrow shoulders.

  ‘My word, you do look grown up.’

  Lizzie’s smile shone. ‘Is it time yet to go to the church?’ She hopped up and down.

  ‘We’re not going to the church,’ Maxine said. ‘We’re staying here and going to the chapel.’

  ‘That’s what I meant … the chapel, the chapel,’ she sang out.

  It was impossible to think of Lizzie not speaking for all those weeks when June had first arrived. Maxine smiled. There was nothing wrong with Lizzie’s lungs now. She took the little girl’s hand.

  ‘We have to wait and let everyone else go into the chapel, Lizzie, so we’ll stay here in the hall. As soon as we see June come in, you and I will walk behind her and make sure she doesn’t trip over her train.’

  ‘Oh, I hope Miss Junie comes in soon,’ Lizzie said. ‘I want to see her pretty dress.’

  The chapel was bursting by the time the teachers and nurses and maids took their places and the children had squashed onto the benches, elbowing one another and talking until Barbara told them in a very firm voice to be quiet and settle down.

  There was no organ in the chapel, but Athena had offered to play ‘Here Comes The Bride’ on the piano, which had been especially moved from the library with great difficulty by the male staff. She sat on the stool, her hands poised over the keys, and when Harold, standing at the back, sent her a nod she began to play.