Orphans of War. Leah Fleming

Pleasance had looked down her specs at Plum.

      ‘It’s a matter of standards. Those sorts of girls…well, we all know what showgirls are like…actresses. I never expected a son of mine to get mixed up with one of them,’ she sighed.

      ‘But Dolly was singing to wounded troops when they met,’ Plum replied.

      ‘On the make, dear, just looking out for someone to be her meal ticket…It was all about the S word,’ she whispered back.

      ‘The what?’ Plum could hardly believe what she was hearing.

      ‘You know perfectly well what I’m getting at. Sex,’ Pleasance mouthed in disgust. ‘It was just sex with those two!’

      ‘And so it should be at that age, Mother. Dolly’s a lovely-looking woman. I’ve seen posters of her.’

      ‘So why did they produce such an ugly duckling? I’m not even sure if Madeleine is Arthur’s…I did warn him he was making a mistake.’

      ‘Oh, enough! That’s not very Christian. How can you say such a wicked thing when they’ve been out giving their services to the troops? Arthur sounds like the nicest of the brothers.’ How dare Mother insinuate such a cruel thing about Dolly!

      ‘I’m surprised at you. Gerald is the handsomest of all my boys,’ Pleasance preened, looking up from her book.

      Plum plonked herself down on the sofa, picked up her knitting. It was time for some home truths. ‘I think this family must have a fascination for the stage. I know Gerald has. He’s kept a mistress in London for years. In fact, he was seeing her before we were married. He says he’s finished with her but I’m not so sure. If you want to criticise anyone, tear your own pretty boy off a strip, not Arthur. He’s the only one with a happy marriage.’ That would pop her balloon.

      ‘Prunella, what’s got into you? Don’t be so mean. Gerry can’t defend himself. Men are like that sometimes. It doesn’t mean anything. You have to make allowances for their urges. They don’t marry girls like that–not in my day, they didn’t.’

      ‘Didn’t you have any urges then?’ Plum paused, unimpressed by her argument.

      ‘No I did not. I did my duty and gave him three sons. In return he gave me respect and didn’t trouble me much after that. What Harry did in his spare time, I never asked, but Arthur wouldn’t leave well alone; he had to go and marry the girl against our wishes. I blame him for Harry’s death–letting the family down, going on the stage, refusing to go into the business with not even a grandson to inherit. Gerald was too young to take over. He’s just a man being a man. It’s a pity there’s no child. You wouldn’t talk so freely then.’

      ‘It’s not for want of trying.’ Plum blushed with embarrassment. ‘You missed out, not enjoying the physical side of marriage. It can be fun.’

      ‘So much fun that my son seeks comforts elsewhere? Our sort of women are not bred for such…messiness. Next thing you’ll be saying we should demand to be pleasured and equals like those damned Suffragettes making fools of themselves. There are women paid to give those sorts of services…’

      Pleasance could be so cruel. ‘And what wretched lives some of them lead,’ Plum snapped back. ‘I’m glad I’ve got the vote and have some say in things. Anyway, what has all this got to do with Dolly and Arthur? I just want them to be made welcome for Maddy’s sake.’

      ‘You’re getting too fond of that child, spoiling her. She’s not our responsibility now. We’ve done our duty.’ There was no budging Pleasance. No use carping at her.

      ‘All I’m asking you is not to hold up Gerald and me as paragons of virtue. This last affair almost came to a divorce, but we’ve talked it through and it’s sorted so you can sleep easy; end of subject. And who wouldn’t be fond of Maddy? She’s your only grandchild. Once that eye is realigned I bet our duckling will turn into a swan.’

      ‘Oh, don’t talk poppycock. I’ve never seen a plainer child. Now, if it was Gloria…she’s got spark and those green eyes, she’ll go far,’ said Pleasance. ‘Pass me my sherry.’

      ‘Do you think so? There’s something about her that worries me. I can’t pin it down. Madge Batty says she’s forever prancing in front of the mirror. Now there’s someone who ought to be on the stage…Don’t forget the school Nativity play on Monday. We’ll have to support our evacuees.’

      ‘Must we? The pews are so hard in the church.’

      ‘Come on, Sowerthwaite expects its most prominent citizen to do her duty.’ Plum smiled sweetly as she handed Pleasance the glass.

      ‘I’ve done my duty sending my sons to war, opening my home to refugees and evacuees and putting up with disruption at my time of life. But listening to Juniors caterwauling on the stage is not my idea of a night out,’ Pleasance snapped back.

      ‘Bah humbug!’ laughed Plum, her tension released. ‘Who needs Dickens when Scrooge is alive and well in Brooklyn Hall?’

      ‘Don’t be facetious, it doesn’t become you…making fun of a poor widow in her sorrows. Christmas is nothing without your family around you,’ Pleasance sighed, sipping her sherry as she gazed into the log fire. ‘Ugh! Is this the best we’ve got? Algie’s been at the decanter again.’

      ‘Hark at you. You’ve got a house full of relatives, a son and daughter on their way home, a hostel full of abandoned children and a granddaughter…Just thank God in His Mercy you have the means to give them all a wonderful time…The joy is in the giving.’

      ‘Just leave the sermons to the vicar, Prunella,’ came the sharp reply.

      It was nearly Christmas and still no news of Mummy and Daddy. Maddy was so excited, waiting to hear their voices. Grandma didn’t believe in having a phone at the hall but the Old Vic now had one for emergencies and Aunt Plum promised to let her know as soon as the trunk call came through.

      ‘Can I go to the station to meet them with Mr Batty?’ Maddy pleaded.

      ‘Of course, but we must expect delays with the snow,’ Aunt Plum smiled. She was putting the finishing touches to the playroom decorations, with Mitch and Bryan standing on the table fixing up paper bells.

      They were going carol singing round Sowerthwaite with the church choir and it was snowing hard. The village looked just like a Christmas card, full of prewar glitter.

      Peggy was sulking because her mother wasn’t coming until Boxing Day. There was a special train for evacuee families to come out from Hull and Leeds. Enid had begged to go to the soldiers’ dance but Matron said she was too young, so she swore at her and was up in the attic bedroom having a screaming match, calling down the stairs the worst swear words she could muster.

      Maddy was trying not to worry about Uncle Algie’s latest news bulletin from the wireless. ‘Convoys under attack. That means no bananas for tea,’ he joked.

      Maddy had not seen a banana or an orange for years, not since she was at St Hilda’s. She thought of those poor sailors rowing open lifeboats in stormy seas. Thank goodness Mummy and Daddy weren’t crossing the Atlantic.

      She’d helped Aunt Plum prepare their room, air the bed with a stone hot-water bottle, put on crisp sheets and a beautiful silk counterpane. They filled a vase full of pink viburnum from the garden that smelled so sweet. The fire was ready to be lit in the grate. The bedroom smelled of polish and soot. She just couldn’t wait.

      Then she thought of their last Christmas together with Uncle George and Granny Mills behind the bar at The Feathers, Mummy singing ‘There’ll Always Be an England’ to the airmen, and everyone cheering. It had been such fun being all together…

      Suddenly she felt sick and sad and shaky. Nothing would be the same ever again. Last year she’d been safe–now she’d come to live with strangers. Her eye had been straightened when she was seven but now it had gone all wonky again. The patching wasn’t working and sometimes she got two