Orphans of War (14 page)

Now as they stood in the porch to go off to their proper party, Mrs Batty patted her head and told her to play nicely with Maddy ‘Be a good girl and no fighting…’ They skated down the path and Gloria had forgotten her mittens. The snow was too cold to make balls without gloves so she darted back in through the open door to the basket where their hoods and scarves were put.

The Battys were still gabbing about the terrible news and she moved closer. What she heard had her running out into the chill. Wait till she told Maddy that she’d heard it first!

Maddy loved her new bike but it was too icy to ride on it properly. Father Christmas’d given her lots of nice surprises but not the one she really wanted, which was for Mummy and Daddy to arrive on time and sing carols at the piano and tell her all about their travels.

She’d begged to spend Christmas Day with the vaccies. It was fun at the hostel, with turkey and Christmas pudding with threepenny bits for everyone. They’d played silly games and charades and there was a singsong. Aunt Plum was very quiet, though, and looked a bit tired. Miss Blunt was away and the vicar and his wife came to help.

Now, on Boxing Day, Grandma was inspecting the buffet table for the bun fight this afternoon.

‘I don’t know why we have to do this?’ she snapped. ‘Children, let loose around the house like wild animals, are not my idea of fun. It’ll all end in tears. Oh, do shift that vase out of reach, Maddy. It’s priceless.’ Maddy duly obliged.

‘I’m not sure that sort of bright blue suits the child,’ Grandma added, eyeing her dress again. ‘You need red hair to carry off that colour. She’d be better off in a kilt and jumper, much more sensible.’

‘Oh, Mother…let it rest,’ Aunt Plum snapped as she dragged on her cigarette. ‘Let her enjoy the party dress. There won’t be many more in the shops if this blasted war goes on and on,’ she sighed. ‘If you can’t dress up on Boxing Day, it’s a poor show.’

‘Who rattled your cage this morning? You’ve been a crosspatch for days…This was all your idea. What time are the hordes descending?’ asked Grandma, lighting her own cigarette.

‘Soon. I just think it’s good for the youngsters to mix with all ages. It’ll do the old codgers good to have a bit of life about the place. All they do is snore and eat. Uncle Algie’s promised to do some conjuring tricks if I can peel him away from the wireless. Aunt Julia has promised to give a recitation…’

‘Oh God, must we?’

‘No, she said it was suitable for children.’

‘How would she know? She’s never had one of her own,’ snapped Grandma.

The bickering went on but Maddy was too excited
to get upset. Those two were always sniping at each other, like Uncle George and Ivy, up and down the bar of The Feathers. It didn’t mean anything. Then she thought of last Christmas and how so much had changed and how sad it was not to be back where she truly belonged.

Then Gloria and Sid arrived early and she thought she ought to let them have a try out of her bike.

Holding the saddle, she let Gloria sit up but her legs wouldn’t reach the pedals and they kept slipping sideways. Two falls and she’d had enough.

‘We mustn’t get dirty,’ Maddy whispered. ‘I mustn’t spoil this hem.’

‘I’ll have it when it’s too short…It looks silly on you,’ said Gloria, rubbing her fingers on the velvet pile.

‘No it doesn’t,’ Maddy snapped back, pulling the skirt away from her. Why was she being so mean? Then she spied a crocodile of vaccies from the hostel coming up the drive, carrying their best shoes in baskets. She led them through the back entrance and the cloakroom to change their shoes and take off their coats.

The parcel from America had been full of shirts and trousers, and everyone was dressed up. Enid and Peggy were sporting earrings and painted lips–now they really looked silly–but Greg and the boys were looking smart and grown up. Maddy wondered if he still didn’t believe in Father Christmas now.

Everyone collected chairs for the game in the hall, marching round the tiled floor to the music from a wind-up gramophone and rushing for the seats when the music stopped. The dining-room table was
extended with a huge white cloth on which were plates of sandwiches, mock sausage rolls, mince pies and wodges of Ilse’s crumb cake. They had to stand for grace, and then it was every hand for itself as the boys leaped to get platefuls of grub.

After tea and pop–Sid spilled his on the rug–Sukie and Blaze rushed round trying to mop up all the crumbs and then it was time for the children to sing for their supper to the assembly in the drawing room. Gloria did her usual show-off routine, singing ‘Bless This House’, which the vicar’s wife had taught her on the quiet.

Then Great-uncle Algie appeared in a black evening cloak and top hat and tried to do a few card tricks, making them laugh. He conjured up eggs out of nowhere.

He asked for a volunteer and Bryan stood up as his assistant. The eggs came and went, and for his last trick he placed a magic egg on Bryan’s head, said some magic words and cracked it with his conjuring stick. It broke all over his hair and dribbled down his face and onto his jumper. Everyone roared, but Aunt Plum was furious.

‘That’s his new jumper…How could you waste an egg like that!’

Poor Uncle Algie looked quite shocked at his telling-off but Grandma came to his defence.

‘What’s got into you? He’s done his best to keep the natives calm. Thank you, Algie. We’ll take the children back into the hall for pass the parcel. Really, Prunella, there was no call for that!’

Everyone pushed and shoved back out of the room, leaving Aunt Plum almost in tears. ‘I’m sorry, Algie, I’ve a lot on my mind,’ she sighed.

Gloria pinched Maddy’s arm. ‘I know what it’s all about. She’s had bad news,’ she whispered.

‘She never said,’ Maddy replied curious now. ‘Is it Uncle Gerald?’

‘’Spec so. I heard Uncle and Auntie in the kitchen talking about his ship going down, but don’t say nowt. I was earwigging behind the door. She’s a widow woman now, that’s why she’s been wearing black.’

‘But why hasn’t she told Grandma? She’s got a red suit on. Uncle Gerry’s her son. How strange? Come on, we’ll be especially nice to her.’

Maddy kept looking at her aunt sideways. Plum must have kept her sadness all to herself to give them a good Christmas. How kind she was. Poor Uncle Gerry, never to see him again. How brave she was to bear such bad news.

The party seemed to drag after that and Maddy was glad when the last ones had gone home and she could put her hand in Aunt Plum’s and squeeze it gently.

‘I know,’ she whispered. ‘It must be awful for you.’

‘Know what, Maddy?’

‘About your bad news. Gloria heard the Battys talking. She didn’t mean to but they were talking loud about Uncle Gerald’s ship going down…’

Aunt Plum was staring at her hard. ‘Is that what Gloria told you?’

Maddy nodded. ‘Is that why you’ve been wearing black clothes?’ Poor Aunt Plum was looking very
strange and grasping her chest. Then she took her arm and guided Maddy towards the little morning room with French doors that opened out onto the side garden where the bird table was.

‘Let’s just shut the door for a minute. You’re right, I’ve got some bad news but it wasn’t Uncle Gerald’s ship. You see, a ship did go down…We don’t know all the details yet. There was a phone call the night before Christmas Eve. I thought it was best to let you all have a proper Christmas. Mrs Batty was there when the call came through. I don’t know how to say this, Maddy, but it wasn’t Uncle Gerald.’ She paused.

In that split second Maddy saw the look on her face and knew what she was going to say and put her hands to her ears. ‘No, no…Please, no, not my mummy and daddy!’

Everything went all fuzzy round the edges and her throat sort of froze so she couldn’t swallow. There was a ringing in her head. Plum’s words were faint, something about enemy action and a troop ship off the coast of Ireland, lifeboats and survivors, but it was all very quick. ‘No, no, it’s not true…?’

Aunt Plum nodded. ‘I’m so sorry, darling. I didn’t know how to tell you.’

‘But there are lifeboats and they can last for days? They found the children from the
City of Benares
when all was lost, days and days after!’ Maddy was pleading for hope.

‘It’s been nearly two weeks. There were only a few survivors. It must have been very quick.’ There was no comfort in her words.

The mantelpiece clock ticked and the fire crackled and blew out smoke. The blackbird was hopping around for crumbs and the icicles were dripping from the stone bird table. Time seemed to stand still.

‘Then they’re never coming home, are they?’ she said, looking Plum straight in the eye.

‘I’m afraid not.’

‘So I’ll have to go to an orphanage like Anne of Green Gables?’

‘Of course not! Your home is here in Brooklyn.’

‘But Grandma doesn’t like me. She wore a red suit…’

‘She doesn’t know yet…about Arthur. I had to tell you first. I didn’t see the point in spoiling your Christmas,’ Aunt Plum sniffed.

‘There’s no Father Christmas, is there?’ Maddy said, feeling ice cold inside. ‘All I asked him for was to see Mummy and Daddy again and he sent them to the bottom of the sea. It’s all lies! All of it…’ she screamed.

‘Maddy, I’m sorry, but Brooklyn is your home,’ Aunt Plum stuttered, looking older and unsure. ‘Forgive me if I’ve got it all wrong. I’ve never had to do this before. I just wanted you to have a nice time. Your home is with us now.’

‘No it’s not! I’ll not stay where I’m not wanted. I’ll go to the Vic and stay there. I’m not a Belfield any more!’ she spat out, and jumped off the sofa, making for the door. She wanted to get away from this house. Grabbing her gabardine mac and galoshes, and the dog lead, which got Blaze bounding after her down the
steps, Maddy stepped out into the dusky whiteness of the front drive.

There were no tears in her eyes. She couldn’t cry. It couldn’t happen twice, could it? First Uncle George and Granny Mills and now Mummy and Daddy? That wasn’t fair. It didn’t make any sense.

Maddy wandered down the lane in a daze, picking out the frozen footsteps of the hostel gang before her. She looked up at the tall poplar trees standing like Roman candles, the snow on the bark making pretty patterns. It was all so crisp and white and silent, so beautiful and so sad.

Would Mummy and Daddy know how sad she was? Did they care? Were they out there somewhere looking down on her, watching over her, with Granny too? She hoped so.

How strange that her own life was going on right now whilst their lives had been over days ago and she didn’t know. All the time she was having fun at Christmas and the school concert, they were already gone. Her life was going on and they’d just disappeared. Now she’d grow and change and do things and they wouldn’t know–or would they? Oh, how she hoped so. It was the only comfort she could cling on to.

Maddy looked down the avenue of poplars and thought of all those other boys who never came home, who were just names at the bottom of the trees. Now Daddy would be a tree on the lane with Uncle Julian. How strange all her family were in a far-off place and she couldn’t reach them.

Now the dark chill wrapped itself round her but she
wasn’t a bit afraid. She didn’t feel cold. She didn’t feel anything but a numb sort of tiredness as she made her way to the Victory Tree. She felt safe there tucked away, hiding in the crevice.

It was like sitting in the tree in The Feathers all over again, but without any hope of letters coming from Egypt. All she wanted to do was curl up and sleep until the war was over and things would go back to how they were before.

How could I have been so stupid? Trust Gloria to get it all wrong and spoil the moment; that silly nosy little tyke!
Plum jumped up to follow the child.
How could I take it on myself to play God and get it so wrong?

Pleasance would have to be told but not yet. First she must find the girl. It was too cold to be wandering about in the dark. Her footprints would be easy to follow and chances were she’d head for the Old Vic and to her friends.

Plum wished there was a phone in the house to warn Vera Murray, the vicar’s wife, of the situation. It was not surprising Maddy preferred the shabbiness of the old pub to the genteel grandeur of her grandparents’ house. Hurt puppies always headed for safety, where they could watch the world from under some table and lick their wounds.

Maddy wasn’t running away, she was running to where she knew there’d be a welcome. To Plum that thought was no comfort at all.

When Mrs Plum arrived at the hostel everyone was still clearing up the mess before bed. The little ones had been sent up first and Greg was summoned into the kitchen to hear the bad news.

‘Maddy’s disappeared,’ said Mrs Plum. ‘Gone to ground. Have you the foggiest where she’d go, Gregory?’

It made him feel grown up that she always consulted him in a crisis, as if he was important.

‘I think I know where she’ll be, miss–up the garden by the big tree, in our Victory HQ. You’ll find her there,’ he offered, feeling so sorry for young Maddy ‘I’ll fetch her back if you like,’ he offered. ‘She won’t have gone far, not in the dark.’

‘I’ll come with you.’ Mrs Belfield jumped up from the kitchen table.

‘Give me five minutes so she don’t run off,’ he said, knowing that if it were him he wouldn’t want grownups fussing. Maddy was a funny kid, even for a girl.