Orphans of War. Leah Fleming

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Orphans of War - Leah  Fleming


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was their last chance to settle down and behave. There should be six evacuees and her niece, but when she counted them Plum realised to her horror that there were two extras huddled behind Gregory.

      ‘Who are those?’ she asked, her heart pounding at the implication. ‘Gregory?’

      ‘Dunno, miss. The girl brought them with her off the train. We couldn’t leave them,’ he said.

      ‘Madeleine, who are they?’ Plum was trying to keep the panic out of her voice.

      ‘Their mother put them on the train and told me to look after them. I couldn’t find their teacher. No one came to collect them so we brought them to you,’ she said, and Plum could hear the others giggling at her refined accent.

      ‘’Er don’t half talk posh, miss,’ said Enid.

      ‘No, I don’t,’ the girl snapped. ‘Did I do wrong, Aunt Plum?’

      More guffaws as they heard her nickname.

      ‘Shush! Have you found out their names?’

      ‘The lady called them Glory and Sidney, but she says she’s Gloria Conley and they don’t go to school, and it was six stops before Leeds when they got on…Manchester, I think. I’m sorry but I didn’t know what to do,’ whispered her niece. ‘Oh, the lady said there was a letter in her pocket and “she don’t read”.’

      ‘Well done, darling, you did what any of us would’ve done. Just check her pocket but don’t wake her yet,’ Plum whispered.

      ‘Shall I pull the cord and stop the train?’ offered Peggy.

      ‘No!’ Plum snapped, the panic rising within her. What if someone was searching the station for them? What if worried relatives had called out the police? Oh, why had Miss Blunt not come with her?

      ‘Here, miss, in her pocket, a letter…’ Gregory leaned over and shoved a paper into Plum’s hand. The note was written in pencil on the back half of a torn envelope.

      To whom it concerns.

      I am sending them away for good. My fella got killed and I can’t take no more. I have no proper home for them and am going away so don’t come looking. Tell them they is better off. You can call them what ever name but they will answer to Gloria Beryl and Sidney Leonard. She is ten but don’t look it and he is five. I cannot take them with me but they will be ever in my heart. Tell them they deserve better than me.

      Plum went cold when she read the contents of the note. In desperation the poor mother had just thrown them on the train to the mercy of strangers. How grief-stricken and depressed must she have been to have done such a wicked thing? She must be traced and found, and made to face her responsibilities, but first they would have to take these children to Sowerthwaite for the night, inform the police and authorities and find a home for the mites.

      How was she going to explain all this to Matron, and what would Pleasance make of her granddaughter? At least she showed initiative, and Gregory had sneaked them on behind her back. He was a natural leader and they were going to have to watch him.

      Perhaps sometimes things just happened and you had to respond as best you could. She had wanted a challenge and, by God, she’d got one now.

      Maddy could see Aunt Plum was upset as she read the letter over and over again. It was all her fault but the lady had told her to look after them and for once she’d been obedient. Now she would be in trouble for letting them get on this train, but Gloria was still sticking like gum to her side. The other girls were staring at her now with interest ’cos she’d done something naughty in their eyes.

      ‘Child snatcher!’ whispered the biggest one. ‘You’ll be for it!’

      ‘Shut up, stick insect,’ said Gregory in her defence. ‘She done what she had to do. She’s been bombed out.’

      ‘What’s it like? Did you see any stiffs?’ asked another of the boys.

      ‘It was horrid and my dog ran away,’ Maddy answered.

      ‘We had to have ours put down. Uncle said as we couldn’t feed it proper and the cat too. He put them in a sack and threw them in the dock.’

      ‘I know a lad as put his kittens through the mangle,’ boasted the fat boy with the bandage.

      ‘That’s enough,’ said Aunt Plum, in such a sharp voice that everyone listened. ‘We’re going to have to be kind to Gloria and Sid. It won’t be long before our station so get all your parcels and cases and follow me. You’re in the Yorkshire Dales now–it’s wild and dark, and if you jump ship you’ll get lost on the moors and get swallowed up in a bog and never found. Do I make myself clear?’ she ordered, but there was a smile in her voice.

      ‘Yes, Mrs Plum,’ said a lone voice, and everyone giggled.

      ‘I rather like that, Peggy, so you can call me Mrs Plum if it helps you remember what I say.’

      Greg stared out into the darkness, wondering what he’d let himself in for. Why hadn’t he scarpered when he got the chance? Now he was stuck with this lot and miles away from civilisation, just like before.

      They all clambered off the train and stood on the blacked-out station. The air was damp and chilly, but it felt fresh and Greg sniffed the scents of wood smoke and steam. There was a crisp wind that rattled round them as they made their way over the steep footbridge and out through a gate to the waiting black saloon, with pull-down extra seats and a luggage rack on the back.

      ‘Madam says to cover the seats in case these vaccies bring anything with them,’ said the chauffeur in leather boots and a peaked cap, eyeing them all with suspicion.

      Greg took one look at the car and sighed…That’s more like it, a whopping big Daimler saloon.

      Everyone had to crush in and Sid woke and started to cry so the Plum woman put him on her knee. The man in the black jerkin drove them ever so slowly up a long steep hill with only pinpricks for lights, and Greg couldn’t see a thing for Enid’s bottom in his face. Where were they going now, miles from anywhere? It was pitch-dark outside and eerie.

      All he could see were miles of stonewalls on either side of them. It was like driving through a stone maze. It had been such a strange day and he had almost forgotten why he was here. There was no sound of gunfire or planes overhead. How could this place be so quiet and peaceful and hidden away, and where were the smoking chimneys and factories of Yorkshire?

      They stopped outside a long stone house and went inside. He smelled the familiar whiff of Lysol and polish. A woman in a starched apron and a funny helmet and uniform stood with her arms folded, inspecting them as they came through the door.

      ‘Girls to the left, boys to the right. What’s this, two extras? They’re not on my list, Mrs Belfield.’

      Here we go again, Greg sighed. There was always one of these tough old birds waiting to lick them into shape. He should’ve run while the going was good but it was late and he fancied another butchers at that Daimler.

      Mrs Plum was for it too and tried to explain, but everyone started talking at once and pointing at Madlin and the little ones and she blushed. Gloria started to snivel and Sid screamed and said his ear was hurting. Matron felt his forehead and said he was burning up and he couldn’t stay there.

      ‘Now look here, you can’t just pick up any waif or stray and bring them here. They haven’t a scrap of identification on them and no ration books. We’ll have to call in the constable. What did you think you were doing?’ she spat out a spray of spit in his face.

      ‘Don’t be cross with him,’ said Madlin, the thin one with the squint. ‘I told him not to leave us.’

      Greg was touched that someone was sticking up for him, even if it was only a girl, but he could look after himself. He was about to launch into the old bat when Mrs Plum caught his arm, as if reading his mind.

      ‘Matron, I think we should discuss this in private after we’ve settled the


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