An Orphan’s War. Molly Green
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to stub his cigarette into the ashtray on the bedside table. ‘Come over here, Mrs Taylor.’ He spread his arms.
‘No, Johnny, it’s too important. We’ll talk about this right now.’
‘Let’s not spoil our first night, Max.’ Johnny looked across at her, his brown eyes afire with anticipation. ‘We haven’t got much time together.’
Maxine hesitated. If she let this go, she’d be paving the way for him never taking her seriously – that his needs and wants were more important than hers. That his decisions didn’t invite even discussion. A little voice reminded her that she had, only a few hours ago, promised to love, honour and obey him, but she shook it away. She took a deep breath and forced herself to speak calmly.
‘Johnny, I know most women leave work when they get married, but this is different. The war’s started. We don’t know how long it will last, but I want to do everything I can to help – the same as you. Everyone who can will contribute something. Mum’s even talking about organising knitting circles to make socks for the soldiers.’
Johnny opened his mouth to speak but she stopped him.
‘What do you think would have happened in the last war if all the women had stayed at home – married or not? They set to immediately. Servants who’d never been out in the world learned to drive and do all sorts of things that were considered men’s work. And spoilt rich girls who’d never lifted a finger equally rolled up their sleeves, and one of the things they did successfully was nursing – even going to the front.’
‘Max—’
‘I can’t … won’t give up my nursing,’ she flung at him. ‘It’s not fair of you to ask me. If you felt that strongly, you should have made it clear before the wedding – and I may have thought twice about marrying you.’ She ignored his shocked expression. ‘There’s no point in any further discussion. I’m carrying on working and that’s that.’
‘Don’t let’s quarrel, Max, especially not tonight of all nights.’
She hesitated. It was their wedding night, after all. Slowly, she walked towards him, her smile only an echo of his sudden happy grin.
Jones at the hospital had warned her the wedding night would be painful, but it wasn’t the physical pain that had hurt so much. Maxine had lain awake through the early hours, every muscle tense as she relived what should have been the culmination of their love. But Johnny had been silent throughout and she’d been too embarrassed to say anything. Afterwards, he’d simply kissed her on the forehead, rolled over and gone straight to sleep. Was this normal? Or was it because she’d stuck up for herself and it had clouded any words and gestures of love he might have given? She thought of all the happy times they’d spent together when they were children, but did she really know him now they were both grown up?
She closed her eyes and an unwelcome thought flashed across her mind. Had she made a terrible mistake? She sighed and turned over, hugging her pillow. Maybe things would look different in the morning.
It was almost a guilty relief that Johnny was to leave so soon after they were married. Maxine was sure this was not a normal response to a new husband, but she couldn’t get out of her mind what Johnny had said. Although he’d not referred to the conversation again, she was sure he was still smarting at her refusal to leave work, and this must be what was affecting their marital relationship. They’d only had three days together but their perfunctory love-making didn’t quite match her dreams of romance.
Christmas came and went, and then it was 1940. Nothing seemed to happen. Sirens occasionally went off and Maxine, along with others at the hospital, practised making sure the patients were as safe as possible before the staff dived into the basement. And out on the streets, everyone, including babies, were given their gas masks, but it quickly became a bit of a joke. People started to leave their gas masks at home and she read that an American senator called it the Phoney War. Johnny came home on leave in April, telling her and her parents that the British were regularly flying over Germany, but instead of dropping bombs they were merely dropping propaganda leaflets, warning the people not to be taken in by Hitler and his empty promises. Johnny was so full of the chaps on the camp and how they passed their time together, he seemed hardly bothered that she was continuing her training. Or if he was, he didn’t show it.
Actually he didn’t show an awful lot, Maxine thought. He had a closed look about him these days. A tightening of the tiny muscles around his mouth. Eyes that didn’t twinkle at her like they used to. The army’s changing him, Maxine noticed. Taking him from her. He couldn’t wait to get back with his mates – she was sure of it.
An idea had begun to form in her mind. If she stayed in Liverpool she would naturally continue to live with her parents until she and Johnny had some time to look for somewhere to rent. But if she transferred to, say, a London hospital, she would gain some independence and be involved in proper war work. Johnny had already told her he wouldn’t be given much leave for the foreseeable future, so she couldn’t see he’d be affected much, one way or the other. At the moment it was only an idea, and she needed to think about it.
‘The sooner the real action starts, the sooner it will be over,’ Johnny said, when they came out of the cinema one evening, the second of the two days’ leave he’d been given. ‘It’s a pity we haven’t had a chance to look for our own place, but I’m glad you’re safe with your parents. It’s one thing I don’t have to worry about.’ He stopped her on the pavement and smacked a kiss on her cheek, then looked at her closely. ‘What’s up, Max? You seem rather quiet? Those aren’t tears, are they?’
‘No, it’s—’
‘Not upset because I’ve got to go back to camp tomorrow, are you?’ Johnny interrupted as though he was too impatient to listen to her. ‘Because if you are, forget it. You don’t have to worry about me.’
‘I know I don’t, Johnny. You can take care of yourself. You’ll be busy and that’s why I want to keep busy … and not just wait until you come home.’
His eyes were on her, as though he was trying to decipher her meaning. ‘Even with me away you can be busy looking for a place to rent. Give you something to think about. And if you really like something, I’ll be happy if you sign up. After all, you’ll be the one in it all day – not me.’
A spurt of anger leapt in her chest.
‘Johnny, you don’t seem to understand. I am going to finish my training and take my finals. And what’s more, I’m thinking of applying to one of the London hospitals to do just that.’
His face set in a hard expression she’d never seen before. ‘Since when did you decide this?’
‘I haven’t made any decision yet, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Mum has the best intentions but she smothers me. Living at home I’m still her child. She forgets I’m a grown woman.’
‘And a married one.’ Johnny’s voice had an edge to it. ‘My wife, in case you’ve forgotten.’
‘Please don’t start that again, Johnny. I’m not a simpering female – you should know that by now.’
‘Why do you want to leave Liverpool, for heaven’s sake? Your father’s not in the best health. Aren’t you being selfish?’
‘He’s all right at the moment. If anything should happen – if he gets worse – I’d come home immediately.’
Johnny took his time to light a cigarette. He inhaled deeply and blew out a stream of smoke.
‘If – and I say “if” – I allow you to carry on working, against all my better judgement, will you forget the idea of London?’
‘I