Molly's Christmas Orphans Read online

  The nurse hesitated. ‘I’m afraid he must have fallen awkwardly and fractured his leg. It’s a rather nasty injury. But fortunately all his vital signs are satisfactory.’

  Molly felt even more perplexed. ‘Vital signs? What does that mean exactly?’

  ‘His heartbeat, breathing rate and temperature are giving us no cause for concern,’ the nurse explained with a forced smile that really didn’t give Molly much comfort. ‘He took a nasty knock to his head. Did you see what happened?’

  Molly hesitated. ‘I think he must have fallen on the counter. I run Swift’s General Stores on Roper Street, you see. Dad’s retired but he came in to help me with the stocktaking.’

  ‘So it was just you and your father who were admitted? No other family?’

  Molly shook her head. ‘Lyn, my sister, moved out to Sidcup before the war. Dad lives with me over our general store on the Isle of Dogs.’ She added quickly, ‘I ran the business with my husband until he died at Dunkirk in June of this year. He was part of the British Expeditionary Force.’

  ‘Oh dear, what bad luck.’

  ‘So what will the treatment be for Dad, do you think?’ Molly asked, eager for more information. ‘When will he be able to come home?’

  The nurse consulted the papers in her hand. ‘Not for some time, I’m afraid. The possibility is, when he’s stabilized, he’ll be sent to another hospital, away from the bombing, where, after the fractures are mended, he’ll go through quite a rigorous rehabilitation.’

  Molly was shocked. ‘Does this mean weeks, or even months he’ll be away?’

  ‘Yes, that’s very likely.’

  ‘How will I get to see him? I drive the shop van, but it’s up on blocks because of the petrol rationing. I don’t even know if it’s roadworthy after the raids.’

  ‘Listen, let’s take one step at a time. I think the most important thing at the moment is rest, and he’ll have plenty of that in here.’ The nurse glanced down at Molly’s sleeping charge. ‘Where was your daughter when all this happened?’

  Molly looked blankly into the nurse’s curious gaze. ‘My daughter? Oh, you mean . . .’ She gave a helpless shrug. ‘She isn’t mine. A woman said she found her wandering in the hospital and asked me to look after her while she went to the toilets. But she never came back.’

  ‘It wasn’t her mother?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘I should take her straight to the desk if I were you. Give them what information you have.’

  ‘Yes, I will,’ Molly agreed patiently, ‘but first I must see me dad.’

  ‘Come to Ward B in ten minutes,’ the nurse consented. ‘Third on your right down the corridor. I’ll be in my office by then and you can see him, but just for a few minutes.’

  When the nurse had gone, Molly wondered if she had time to go to the desk with the child. But what if there was a long queue? And she had to do something to smarten up. Her clothes looked as though they’d been dragged through a hedge backwards.

  The ladies’ reeked of Woodbines and strong disinfectant. A woman stood by the old washbasins and looked up when she saw Molly carrying the little girl in her arms.

  ‘You all right, love?’ she asked in a friendly manner.

  ‘You don’t have a comb I could use, do you?’

  ‘Sorry. Everything I owned went up in smoke today.’ She slipped a small flask from her pocket. ‘Like a drop of the other?’

  ‘No thanks. I’m trying to keep a clear head. This little girl is lost and I have to take her to the desk. But first I must see how my dad is and I wanted to freshen up.’

  ‘What happened to your dad?’

  ‘A bomb went off in the street outside our shop and blew the window in. His leg’s broken and he’s taken a nasty knock to the head. What about you?’

  ‘Me and Ethel, my landlady, was under the kitchen table when the planes flew over. They pulled me out with just a few bruises. But Ethel’s heart packed up in the ambulance. She was a lovely old gel, an’ all. We got along famous. Once did me a very good turn.’ The woman heaved a big sigh. ‘Sorry to have a moan, but this war is just so flamin’ unfair.’ She smiled and Molly thought how the smile lit up her face under her curtain of dark, unkempt hair. ‘I’m Cissy Brown, by the way.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Cissy. I’m Molly Swift.’

  ‘Sure you don’t want a swig of this?’

  ‘I don’t really have time,’ Molly answered politely. ‘But thanks anyway.’ She glanced in the mirror. ‘Oh, crikey, look at the state of me!’ Her auburn-coloured hair had turned to grey and her skin was streaked with soot. Only her eyes, as large and shiny as brown marbles in her small, heart-shaped face, glimmered in their white sockets to prove she was truly human. ‘I can’t let me dad see me like this!’ she cried. ‘I could be a hundred and seven. Not twenty-seven.’

  ‘Splash your face with water, that’ll do the trick. I’ll hold the kid while you use the basin.’

  ‘Would you?’ Molly carefully passed the child over. ‘She’s not very heavy.’

  Cissy nodded. ‘She’s a dear little thing. Wonder where her mum is?’

  ‘That’s what I thought. She’s far too young to be on her own.’ Molly turned on the tap. A trickle of brown water flowed out. She closed her eyes and took the plunge, shaking the surplus off and threading her wet hands through her hair to smooth it.

  ‘Are you taking her in to see your old man?’ Cissy asked.

  ‘I was going to ask the nurse if I could leave her inside the ward.’

  ‘They ain’t very nice places, love. Full up with casualties, moaning and groaning.’

  ‘I can’t just abandon her.’

  ‘I don’t mind helping you out. She don’t seem to be any trouble. I could sit with her in the passage while you was with your dad.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Course.’ The stranger jerked up her expressive dark eyebrows. ‘We’ve all got to help each other in times like this. And look at her, flat out in me arms.’

  Molly smiled. The little girl was as Cissy said, flat out. Where had she come from? And why was she lost? Questions that Molly put to the back of her mind, as she and Cissy went into the corridor.

  Chapter Two

  ‘Dad?’ Molly asked softly as she stood at the bedside. ‘Are you awake?’

  Her father opened his eyes and blinked. ‘Oh, hello, love.’

  She bent to kiss his cheek, inhaling a big whiff of antiseptic from the bandage around his head. ‘You frightened the life out of me, you know.’

  ‘Did I? Blowed if I can remember.’

  Molly nodded down to the cage under the blanket. ‘You’ve broken your leg, and the nurse says you’ve got to rest.’

  ‘Can’t I get up?’

  ‘Certainly not. Just do as you’re told!’

  ‘There’s your mother talking,’ he teased her, though Molly could hear the weakness in his voice.

  ‘You’ve hit your head too. It must have been the blast that threw you against the counter.’

  ‘The last I remember is the warning and then that bloody awful explosion.’ He looked at her bewilderedly. ‘What’s the damage back home?’

  ‘Nothing we can’t put right.’

  A smile went over his lips and his cheerful expression returned. ‘You’re not a very good fibber!’

  ‘Listen, I can cope, Dad. You’re not indispensable.’

  ‘I know you must miss Ted at times like this. I certainly do. He was like a son to me. If only he hadn’t bloody volunteered he might be here now.’

  ‘Ted was as stubborn as you, Dad. He reckoned it was his duty. And I never did nothing to stop him.’

  ‘But what will you do?’ her father asked anxiously. ‘A woman on her own – oh, Molly, I could kick meself.’

  At this Molly smiled. ‘Don’t try kicking anything,’ she said, trying to lighten the moment. ‘You’ve only got one good leg left.’

  He chuckled weakly. ‘Ask Dennis Turner to help you. He’s a good
all-rounder and only lives down the road. Get him to do something temporary till I get home. As for cash, there’s a bit put by under the kitchen floorboard. When I’m on me feet again I’ll see to everything. I know you haven’t got Ted at the helm, but I’ll soon be back to help out.’

  Suddenly there was a loud yell and, although there were curtains around the bed affording a little privacy, nothing could disguise the pain that some poor soul was enduring. There were soft mutters and yet more screams and a rush of rubber soles over the ward’s floor.

  ‘Poor bugger,’ Bill whispered. ‘There but for the grace of God, go I.’

  Molly placed her hand gently on the bedcover. ‘Will you be able to sleep?’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ve had a knockout drop. Me eyelids feel like lead weights.’

  ‘I’ll come in again on Tuesday.’

  ‘Don’t go telling your sister what’s happened,’ Bill said anxiously. ‘Lyn will only fuss and force me out to bloody Sidcup!’

  ‘Oscar’s not so bad,’ Molly said, defending her brother-in-law. ‘Though he can be a bit of a know-all.’

  ‘That’s putting it mildly,’ Bill huffed. ‘I’ll have it rammed down me throat we should have moved out from the East End when war was declared. I’ll be a sitting duck with me gammy leg.’

  Molly hid her smile. She knew Oscar would be the first to criticize them for not relocating, and Lyn could be just as bossy. But perhaps, after this development, they might have a point.

  ‘Dad, Lyn won’t forgive me – or you – for not telling her what’s happened. You could have been killed. It’s not like you tripped over in the street, something daft like that.’

  ‘Just wait a few more days before you write,’ Bill pleaded drowsily. ‘I might even be home by then.’

  After what the nurse had told her, Molly thought that highly unlikely. ‘Is there anything you need?’

  ‘Too bloody true there is,’ he replied with a yawn. ‘Me pipe and baccy. Now, love, you’d better be off. I can feel meself dozing. And I . . .’

  Molly smiled as his eyes closed under the bandages. At least he didn’t seem to be in pain.

  She went on tiptoe from the bedside but was startled by a loud shriek. Nurses hurried to the stricken patient as Molly made her way out to the corridor.

  ‘Here, this bloke wants the kid,’ Cissy cried as Molly approached. ‘Do you know him?’

  ‘No,’ Molly replied, looking the stranger up and down. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I’m Evie’s dad. Where did you find her?’

  ‘I didn’t,’ Molly answered. ‘Someone else did. A woman who went off, leaving her with me.’

  ‘Well, I’ll take her now.’ He stepped forward but Molly barred his way.

  ‘What proof have we got that you’re this child’s father?’

  ‘Proof!’ the man exclaimed. ‘I’m her dad. Ain’t that enough?’

  ‘You ain’t done a very good job of looking after her so far,’ Cissy said loudly as she clutched the child.

  The man threw up his arms in exasperation. ‘All right, if it’s proof you want, then I’ll get it.’

  To Molly’s surprise he sprinted away, a tall, agile man with long legs and broad shoulders hidden under a navy duffel coat that had clearly seen better days. His dark beard and untidy hair had made him look rather frightening.

  ‘What was all that about?’ she wondered aloud and Cissy shrugged.

  ‘Dunno, but he looked a bit iffy to me.’

  ‘What would he want with a child though, if he wasn’t her father?’

  Cissy sneered disdainfully. ‘He might be a nutter. Shall we take her to the desk and let them deal with it?’

  ‘Yes, perhaps we should.’

  She was about to do just this when Molly saw him reappear. This time, a little boy of about four or five accompanied him.

  ‘Now, Mark, tell these people who Evie is,’ the man said breathlessly.

  The boy looked bewildered. ‘What they gonna do with her, Dad?’

  ‘They want to know if I’m her father.’

  The little boy nodded slowly. ‘She’s me sister an’ all.’

  ‘You see,’ the man said, his voice raised in agitation. ‘Now, if you’re satisfied?’

  ‘We was only looking out for her,’ Cissy argued stubbornly. ‘If she’d walked out of here on her own Gawd knows what would have become of her.’

  ‘Dad, don’t let them take our Evie.’ The boy’s eyes filled with tears and the tall man sank to his knees, winding his arms gently around the tiny frame.

  ‘It’s all right, Mark. It’s all right.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Molly apologized immediately. ‘We didn’t mean any harm.’

  ‘See, they was just doing us a good turn.’ The man stood up and looked at Cissy. ‘I’ll take her now.’

  Molly watched as Cissy, with a scowl, allowed the man to take his daughter. ‘Evie, why did you run away from your old man?’

  The little girl rubbed filthy knuckles in her eyes. ‘I want me mum.’

  ‘Our mum’s dead,’ the boy told his sister. ‘Ain’t she, Dad?’

  ‘Yes, son, I’m afraid so.’ The man looked at Molly. ‘Stella died when our house was bombed. I came here to identify her body.’

  ‘The name’s Andy Miller. I’m sorry I lost me rag. But I was worried sick about Evie. She’s only three and a half. I told them to wait outside the room where they took me to see Stella. But when I came out, Mark said she’d wandered off.’

  Molly looked at the little boy, all spindly legs and short trousers, wearing a threadbare jacket several sizes too big for his body.

  ‘I’m sorry to hear of your loss,’ Molly said sadly.

  ‘I searched the hospital looking for Evie. Couldn’t find her nowhere. Till I saw you.’

  ‘You dunno who people are these days,’ Cissy said, looking the man up and down. ‘What with so many bleeding warnings of enemy aliens trying to infiltrate, you end up suspecting your own mother.’

  ‘I ain’t no alien, far from it,’ Andy Miller assured them. ‘I’m in the merch and on leave from me ship. I’ve got to be back on Thursday. Meanwhile, I have to sort out a place round here for Evie and Mark to stay.’

  ‘That’s a tall order,’ Cissy replied. ‘They’re evacuating all the kids from the East End.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. But not mine.’ His piercingly dark eyes hardened. ‘How would I ever get to see them if they was out in the country somewhere?’

  ‘You ain’t got a lot of choice,’ Cissy retorted impatiently.

  ‘I’m going to try round here,’ he said, ignoring her and looking at Molly. ‘Go to the Salvation Army.’

  ‘Are you a Salvationist?’ asked Molly.

  ‘No, but mates of mine are. Betty and Len Denham. Like us, they lived on the East India Dock Road. Betty looked after the kids sometimes. But they got bombed out too. All I know is they were taken to the Red Cross shelter somewhere round here.’

  ‘Needle in a haystack,’ said Cissy unsympathetically.

  Just then there was a low, droning sound followed by the siren’s haunting wail.

  ‘Better get down to the shelter,’ Andy Miller said, taking his son’s hand.

  They all joined the crowd rushing towards the basement of the hospital, as the thunder of the bombers grew louder and closer.

  There was barely enough light in the basement to let them find their way over the shelter floor. Tilley lamps had been lit and at one end nurses were quietly attending to patients in wheelchairs. At the other a WVS volunteer with gas masks hanging from her shoulder directed them to the free spaces. ‘There are mattresses down there,’ she told them hurriedly. ‘We’ve set up a tea urn by the wall.’

  Molly and Cissy led the way between the huddled bodies of men, women and children. Most were asleep, with their gas masks and bundles of clothing piled up beside them.

  Molly picked her way carefully; the smell of unwashed human bodies was overpowering.

  ‘There!’ Cissy said,
clambering towards a mattress that was just being vacated.

  ‘Here you are, love, kept the bed warm for you,’ the elderly woman said, pulling on her coat and lifting her heavy bags. ‘I’m off to see me son in ward nine. He wasn’t doing so well when I came down here to get a bit of kip. Good luck to the lot of you.’

  While Cissy went to the tea urn Molly sat on the floor, leaning her head against the wall. She watched Andy Miller make his children comfortable on the mattress, kissing them goodnight and drawing the blankets up to their chins.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said as he sat beside Molly. ‘You were good to look out for Evie.’

  ‘I would have been frantic if I’d lost my little girl in a big place like this. You must have been very worried.’

  ‘Have you got kids?’

  Molly shook her head, a sudden image of Emily flashing through her mind.

  ‘You’re lucky,’ he told her bitterly. ‘You don’t know what it’s like seeing them go through this hell.’

  ‘Have you any relatives who can help you out?’ Molly asked quietly.

  ‘Not a soul, only the Denhams. I’m an orphanage boy and Stella’s old woman died of the drink.’

  ‘Do you think you’ll find those friends of yours?’

  ‘Don’t know. But I have to try. I’m a DEMS gunner, see. And I’ll be hauled over the coals if I’m absent without leave.’

  ‘DEMS?’ Molly repeated, remembering she’d read about the defensively equipped merchant ships that had been hastily, and often poorly, fitted with guns. ‘That’s dangerous, ain’t it?’

  ‘No choice,’ Andy shrugged. ‘Well, that ain’t strictly true. It was DEMS or get kicked out for the regular navy. And then I’d be in a worse fix, sent off for months, perhaps years at a time. At least I can get leave at the end of each trip and see me kids.’

  ‘Your wife must have been very worried.’

  ‘Stella couldn’t have cared less,’ he replied.

  ‘Why’s that?’ asked Cissy, having overhead this remark as she returned with the mugs of tea on a battered tin tray.

  ‘Stella wasn’t the worrying sort.’

  ‘When do you go back to your ship?’ asked Molly.

  ‘Thursday.’

  ‘That’s not very long.’