Till the Sun Shines Through (50 page)

‘Is it them?' Bridie cried, barely hearing the man's words.

‘Answer the question, please.'

Bridie sighed and began her story again, just as she'd told the doctor at the hospital. His reaction when she had told him how everything had happened had been sympathetic, but she could read no sympathy in Dr Havering's eyes. He just sat and looked at her until eventually she cried out, ‘Now, for pity's sake, Doctor Havering, have you my children in your care?'

‘I have two very sick children similar to those in the photograph,' Doctor Havering answered. ‘It's hard to believe your little girl is six – she's so small – though now I can see the resemblance to you it's more understandable.'

The breath that Bridie hadn't been aware she was holding left her body in a great sigh of relief and she leapt to her feet. Her heart was singing. The man had spoken trauma, but she was sure anything could be cured once the children were back with her, where they belonged. She turned to Rosalyn, her face alight with joy. ‘Rosalyn, they're alive! Alive! Oh God above, I can hardly believe it. All these days and weeks thinking of them as dead.'

Rosalyn ached for her. She and Todd had no children. They'd been married in March 1938, and when Rosalyn had raised the subject, Todd had said the world was too unstable to bring a child into. In 1939, when war was declared, Rosalyn realised he'd been right, especially when he applied to join the Volunteer Air Force almost immediately. She didn't know how she'd have coped with what Bridie and many like her had endured. The rationing and the blackout were bad enough, but then so was the dilemma of what to do with your children. Some sent them to live with perfect strangers to try and save them, while others kept them at home, suffering the raids together. And what raids, what terror, what destruction!

She knew how Bridie was feeling now – the elation, the extreme joy – and yet she feared for her. She knew she had looked no further than finding the children alive and well and assumed then that she would take them home. Rosalyn very much doubted that this would be the case. Doctor Havering's next words confirmed her fears. ‘Your children are not well enough to leave the orphanage yet,' he said. ‘Now we have names for them we might make more headway, but for the time being you must leave them with the professionals.'

‘Leave them?' Bridie said incredulously. ‘But I can't leave them. They're my children – they should be with me.'

‘Would you risk their mental health because of a selfish whim of your own?' the doctor rapped out. ‘I don't think a court would uphold your claim.'

Bridie sank defeated into a chair. ‘What are you saying?'

‘I'm saying that, for the moment, your children are better left where they are,' the doctor said. ‘When they are deemed fit for release, this will only be done if you are able to provide a suitable home for them.'

Bridie stared at him. ‘A suitable home?' she replied incredulously. ‘In a war-ravaged city? Don't make me laugh.'

‘This is no laughing matter, Mrs Cassidy,' the doctor said gravely. ‘That is the criteria which must be fulfilled before your children can be released from our care.'

Bridie stared at him and noticed the coldness in those blue eyes. He was authority and power – his word was law. She knew it and he knew it. ‘Can I see them?' she pleaded.

‘Would that really be fair?' the doctor said. ‘That could do more damage than ever, I feel.'

Bridie's bleak eyes sought Rosalyn's sympathetic ones and Rosalyn stepped forward and held tight to Bridie's arm. ‘Can we come again?' Bridie asked.

‘I hardly think …' the doctor began as Rosalyn hissed at him, ‘For God's sake, if you've a heart at all, use it.'

‘'Phone us after Christmas,' the doctor said. ‘And we'll tell you how things stand.'

Rosalyn was aware how despondent Bridie was and to cheer her a little on the way home she said, ‘You'll have good news to tell your Tom now anyway.'

Bridie turned sorrowful eyes to Rosalyn. ‘Have I?'

‘Of course you have,' Rosalyn said impatiently. ‘Up until a few days ago, you thought your children were dead, crushed or blown to pieces. Now you know they are not. Okay, they're damaged by their ordeal and no wonder, but they'll recover. Children are very resilient. Tom has the right to be told his children are alive.

‘All right,' Bridie conceded. ‘I know that really and I will write to him tonight. I just wish I had something more definite to tell him.'

That evening, as promised, she sat down and wrote a letter to Tom she'd hardly dared imagine she ever would.

Dear Tom

I have some amazing news for you. Our children are alive! Can you believe it after all this time? They were taken out of the ruins of the house before I got there and with them being so small, they were taken to the children's hospital rather than the General. They were sent from there to the hospital wing of an orphanage in a a place called Four Oaks, where I tracked them down. The children have been ill, traumatised from their ordeal and not yet ready to leave hospital, but I thought you should know as soon as possible. I will write more later. Tell Eddie the good news if you can
.

Love Bridie

Rosalyn scanned the letter before Bridie sent it and could understand why she'd told Tom so little. She said nothing, but as if she had spoken, Bridie said, ‘If I'd told Tom how it really is, what could he do but worry? I don't want him to do that. Christ, hasn't he enough to worry about as it is?'

‘I know,' Rosalyn replied. ‘But this is bound to buck him up.'

It did more than buck Tom up. He gave a whoop of joy as he read Bridie's words. Tell Eddie she had said. Tom had the desire to tell the whole damned world, have it announced all over the camp, stuck to the notice board at the NAAFI. But the news filtered through the camp anyway and every one of the men was genuinely pleased for Tom. Most were family men themselves and they all worried about their loved ones back home, knowing in this war it wasn't only fighting men at risk. When Tom and Eddie had returned after their funerals, both men broken by tragedy, many suffered with them and now they rejoiced with Tom.

The following day, as they ate dinner in a city centre café after visiting Jay, Rosalyn broached the news to Bridie that she would be staying with Todd for Christmas. At first, Bridie had been horrified that Rosalyn was to leave her over Christmas: Rosalyn had been the one who'd pulled her out of the mire, bullied her into cleaning herself up and evaluating her life, before helping her search for her children. But when she heard Rosalyn's voice as she talked of Todd and saw the light shining in her eyes, she realised she was selfish to expect Rosalyn to spend Christmas with her when her husband, who she so obviously loved, was just a few miles away, especially as her man was in the front line. The Battle of Britain might be won, but young pilots were losing their lives daily.

Wouldn't she have given her right arm to have Tom beside her this minute? But the memories of Tom's few days with her after the children's presumed death disturbed her. She'd pushed Tom away instead of drawing him to her so they could take comfort from one another. She'd make it up to him, though. She'd write a letter as soon as possible and tell him how much she loved and missed him, before telling him of the children's survival.

But that was for later. This was now and Rosalyn was looking at her with wary, anxious eyes, awaiting her response. Bridie knew she had to lie and make it seem as if she'd already made plans for the Christmas period and say it in such a way that Rosalyn would believe it. ‘Well, that's just grand,' she said to her cousin. ‘For I've already made arrangements to help out at the hospital. I thought it would help Jay too to have one of his own beside him. It will be the first of many Christmases without his mother. I know my parents will make it special for Mickey, but I'd not like Jay to be on his own.'

In fact, Bridie had made no such arrangements. Before Rosalyn's arrival, she'd viewed the Christmas with dread. She'd been determined that she wouldn't take part in the festivities, but stay in bed in her dreary room and let the season go on without her. Now, she saw she could do as she'd claimed and lend a hand at the hospital. They were always glad of help, especially at holiday times when there was less staff in.

Bridie went to visit Jay in hospital early the next day after Rosalyn had left. They'd told him all that had transpired at the orphanage the day after the visit, playing it down so that he wouldn't get too upset. But it was obvious he'd been lying in bed thinking about it because his first question to her was, ‘Why didn't Katie and Liam say who they was in the beginning? Then they'd have found you, like, wouldn't they, and you wouldn't have been so sad?'

‘They were in shock and couldn't speak, Jay. That was part of the sickness,' Bridie said.

‘You mean they was sick in the head?' Jay asked.

‘In a way.'

‘And they still are?'

‘Aye,' Bridie said with a sigh. ‘They're still sick.'

‘Daint they even speak to you?'

‘I wasn't allowed to see them.'

‘Why not?'

Bridie shrugged, and Jay saw her eyes glistening with unshed tears and heard the catch in her voice as she replied, ‘They said … the doctor said it would upset them too much.'

That was daft, anyone would know it was daft and yet to say so would only upset Bridie further and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Besides, he told himself, at least Katie and Liam are alive and that had to be better than being dead. However sick they were, they'd recover in time.

And so he said nothing more about the children and instead revealed proudly, ‘They're dead pleased about my arm, by the way. They say I might have the plaster off in the New Year, then I can have crutches and get about a bit more.'

Bridie knew being still didn't sit well on Jay's shoulders and so she was pleased.

‘When that happens, I can go to Ireland to my grandma and granddad's,' Jay told her eagerly. ‘You'll take me, Auntie Bridie, won't you?'

‘Aye, of course I will,' Bridie assured him. ‘As soon as the hospital say you are fit to travel. I promised your daddy and it's what your mammy wanted too.'

Jay didn't want to dwell on his mother. He still wept about if he thought about her too much. He decided to steer the conversation around to Ireland. ‘I can't wait to see them all again on the farm,' he said. ‘I bet our Mickey's getting dead spoilt. He needs me there to knock him into touch.'

Bridie laughed. ‘You and whose army?' she said. ‘He'll soon have you off those crutches if you start throwing your weight around.'

‘Huh,' Jay said with a grin. ‘Like to see him try.'

‘What can you remember about the farm and all?' Bridie asked. ‘Not much I expect. You were quite small last time you were over.'

But Jay surprised her, for he remembered a great deal and she recalled how he used to trail after her father as she'd done as a small child.

‘I loved that place,' Jay said now with a sigh. ‘I used to ask to go every year. I'm going to live somewhere like that when I grow up.'

‘Who knows where any of us will be by that time,' Bridie said. ‘The war will be over certainly and your daddy and Tom back home and, please God, the world will be a better, more peaceful place altogether.'

‘Do you believe that?'

‘I have to believe it, otherwise all those who died did so in vain.'

‘I know,' Jay said glumly.

‘Come on, cheer up,' Bridie said, wanting to lift his despondency. ‘It's Christmas Eve tomorrow. For one day at least let's believe in ‘Peace and goodwill to all men.”

‘Even Germans?'

‘Even them at Christmas,' Bridie said with a smile. ‘The angels didn't make exceptions.'

‘All right,' Jay said. ‘When you come over to the hospital, I'll be all sweetness and light.'

He was incredibly grateful to Bridie for offering to help out at the hospital on Christmas Day and Boxing Day and the nurses jumped at the chance of an extra pair of hands. Jay knew they worked hard and would do their best to make the day special, particularly for the younger patients, and they had already made the ward looked very festive indeed. And yet he didn't want to spend Christmas alone just with the nurses. He knew it would be a time when he would remember his mother and he would be frightened of crying in front of everybody and spoiling their day too. He had to remember that some kids had more to put up with than he had.

When his aunt left that night he lay back on his bed and thought how good she had been with him. He didn't know if he'd have coped so well if she hadn't been to see him as often as she had. It was a pity, he thought, that she wasn't really happy and that having found her children alive and well, after thinking them dead for a month, they were still being kept apart. He shut his eyes tight and prayed earnestly that things might work out well for his aunt – for all of them – in the New Year.

On the way home, fired with enthusiasm, Bridie bought a lot of cleaning materials, plus her rations from the grocery shop near the Mission where she'd eventually registered. She arrived in at the attic out of breath, her arms nearly pulled out of their sockets, and shut the door behind her with a snap. She looked about the room: the whole place needed painting and repapering and although she wouldn't be able to do that, she could give it a thorough going over. She felt ashamed of the way she'd let it go.

She made herself a cup of tea and then set to work with a will, boiling kettle upon kettle of water, which she had to fetch in buckets from the tap on the landing below. She didn't stop until the place looked brighter and fresher and the musty smell had been overridden by one of polish and cleaning fluid.