An Orphan’s War. Molly Green
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Whatever was her mother on about? But then the penny dropped. She thought her daughter was going to have a baby.
‘You’ll be giving up work now, won’t you?’ her mother went on. ‘I know what it’s like. You’ll need me to look after you.’
‘Mum, I’m not expecting, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
Her mother’s face visibly fell. ‘Well, of course that’s what I thought you meant. What else could it be?’
‘Let her tell us herself, Edna. Try not to keep interrupting.’ Her father’s tone was calm.
‘I’ve been thinking about going to St Thomas’ hospital in London … it has an excellent reputation … and now Johnny’s joined up, I fancy a change,’ she finished lamely.
There. She’d said it. Two pairs of wary eyes swivelled towards her.
‘You’re leaving us?’ Her mother’s voice rose as she reached in her apron pocket for her handkerchief. She blew loudly into the piece of white cloth. ‘We thought you were so happy at the Royal Infirmary.’ She emphasised the word. ‘That’s what you wanted.’
No, Mum – it was what you wanted, Maxine thought. I wanted to teach youngsters.
‘I’ve loved every minute there,’ she said instead. ‘But I think I’ll be more useful in London. That’s where the Germans will aim. For the docks.’
‘Liverpool will catch plenty as well, there’s no doubt of that.’ Her father swayed on the two back legs of his chair. ‘It’s a very important port strategically … our route to America, where we’ll be getting our supplies. A perfect target, I would think.’
‘It doesn’t alter what I’d like to do,’ Maxine said quietly. ‘You know I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I’d like this to be my decision.’
Her father nodded. ‘Of course we wouldn’t stand in your way – you’re a married woman.’ He put his knife and fork neatly together on the plate and glanced across to his wife. ‘Very tasty, dear.’
‘I suppose you have told Johnny,’ her mother said, intuitive for once.
‘I’ve mentioned it.’
‘And what did he say?’
‘That’s between him and me,’ Maxine said, gently but firmly.
Her mother looked at her, astonished. But all she said was, ‘When do you plan to go?’ She rose to collect the dirty plates as though she couldn’t wait to get out of the room – didn’t want to hear Maxine’s answer.
‘I told you, Mum,’ Maxine said in exasperation, ‘I haven’t planned that far ahead. I don’t even know if there’s a vacancy. I imagine they’re short of nurses, but I wouldn’t leave here until they offered me a job – presumably I’d have to have an interview first.’
‘Hmm.’ Her mother’s lips pulled tight. ‘Let’s hope they don’t allow married women.’
Maxine made her excuse and left the table as soon as she could and went up to her room. Her unmade bed seemed to reprimand her, but she’d been in such a hurry this morning and hadn’t had time to make it. As she bent to pull the blankets up and plump the pillow, she felt Pearl’s letter sticking out of her skirt pocket. Ripping it open with her fingers, defying her father’s instructions to always use a proper paperknife and make a neat job of it, she pulled out the single sheet.
18th May, 1940
Dear Max,
I haven’t seen you lately, but I expect you’ve been busy at the hospital. I do hope you and Aunt and Uncle are well and that you’re enjoying your nursing. It sounds very romantic, looking after patients and getting them well.
I have some exciting news! I went for an audition last week to sing and dance in Better Days at the Empire and have got in!!! But rehearsals every day mean I’ll have to give up work. So I wonder if I can ask you for a teensy-weensy favour. Could you lend me some money to tide me over? Maybe £25? I think that would do it. Of course I’d pay you back at the first opportunity. I’m not a star or anything, but I have got quite a good part, though it won’t pay any more than Woolworth’s to begin with, and we don’t get paid until the show opens in six weeks’ time.
I didn’t really know anyone to ask in the family, but if you don’t have the cash, or are unwilling, I quite understand. But if you can help I’d be very grateful.
Much love,
Your cousin Pearl
XX
She might have known. And she did have some money tucked away. It was difficult to save anything from her modest wages after giving her mother ten shillings a week for her board, but she made some extra cash by doing sewing for some of the nurses in the evenings and weekends. Twenty-five pounds though would wipe out most of it. She’d need a buffer to pay for her fare to London and a bit over to manage with until she got paid at the end of her first week. That is, if she got an offer.
No, it was impossible. She might be able to lend her cousin a fiver, but no more. And she wouldn’t trust the post. She’d go and see Pearl tomorrow evening, straight from work.
Maxine took the tram to Bold Street where Pearl lived, still in two minds how much to lend her. Her cousin’s lodgings consisted of two rooms and a shared bathroom above a fish and chip shop. As she approached the building she noticed four lads huddled together on top of a pile of planks on the shop’s windowsill, poring over a newspaper. She hid a smile. They couldn’t have been more than eight or nine, she thought, but they were intently reading the headlines. They didn’t even look up as she brushed past them and entered the shop. The stale smell of fried dripping immediately filled her nostrils.
‘We haven’t seen you for a time, young Maxine,’ Mr Rowe glanced up from his deep-fat frying pan, his face red from the heat and his greying moustache bristling as he beamed at her.
‘I’ve been very busy at the hospital and don’t get a lot of time off.’
‘How’s that husband of yours?’
Maxine sighed. ‘I haven’t heard for the past two weeks so can only hope he’s all right.’ She needed to change the subject quickly. ‘Do you know if Pearl’s in?’
‘Far as I know.’ He deftly removed some sizzling pieces of fish and laid them out in the warming cabinet. ‘She’s already been in for her lunch.’ He nodded. ‘Go on through, love.’
Maxine stepped through the back of the shop and climbed a flight of stairs. She could still hear muffled sounds