by Milly Adams
She looked at the three of them, as they stopped talking and opened their arms to her, hugging her. She smelt their perfume: it was Joy, as hers and Verity’s was. ‘Darling girl,’ Mrs B said. ‘You were so beautiful this morning.’
Verity called from the entrance, ‘Isn’t she any more, then, Mrs B?’
Sylvia called, ‘Oh shut up.’
Joyce muttered, ‘Nothing changes.’
Sylvia linked arms with Mrs B, and with Rogers, and they hurried in, while he yanked at the collar Mrs B had double-starched. Sylvia had asked why. ‘Because I’m not having him letting his head droop. It does, you know, and it makes him look old, and as I say, I’m not having it.’
Polly, now standing next to Verity, called, ‘Come on, I thought you’d never get a move on.’
Rogers muttered, ‘Darned collar, cutting into me chin, it is.’
Mrs B snapped, ‘That’s why you’re wearing it, so keep your head up.’
Sylvia smiled. These were the parents she had never had and, of course, Rogers had given her away, Mrs B had helped her with her dress, both had helped Steve and her sort out the rear Lodge Cottage which was to be the Bateses’ home.
Sylvia grinned at Polly and Verity. They wore parachute silk too, but the three mothers had woven their magic and each had its own identity. Polly reached out a hand and clasped Sylvia’s, saying, ‘Ah, you, as an old married woman, will follow us down the aisle this time. Did Father O’Malley think he was seeing double when both Saul and Tom stood as best man to Steve, I wonder, Sylv?’
Sylvia grinned. ‘Quite probably, but he was really pleased that Father Murphy had allowed him to officiate.’
The organ started the Wedding March yet again, and all the girls shared a smile. Polly muttered, ‘He’ll be out here, hauling us in soon. It seems to me he’s a bit louder than the first time.’
Henry and Thomas arrived hotfoot from the marquee, to take their place beside their daughters. They had set up the buckets, and reported that the girls, Dobbo and Dougie were well aware that timing was crucial and they must rush from the chapel when the photographs were taken, to get the food to the marquee for the ravening hordes.
Organising these weddings had been like planning a battle, Saul had said, when they’d all met for drinks in Howard House Hotel bar last night, and Henry had shaken his head, whispering, ‘Oh my, you’ll live to regret those words, you see if you don’t once our Pol gets hold of you. Imagine calling a wedding a battle plan, oh my.’
As they had sat and chatted, Timmo, Trev and Pete had been playing Bet, Evelyn and Mabel at darts while in the lounge Sister Augustine talked to Solly about the vagaries of the world, and the need to go on when one’s whole family, village or shtetl had disappeared, while Maudie talked to Rachel of children, because Rachel’s baby was expected in two months.
That night the girls had retired as usual to their room, still with its three beds, still with Pup lying on Pol’s feet, talking of the work they had already done on the hotel, and all that still needed to be done. Talking of the renovation of the gardener’s cottage that Dobbo and Dougie, who had left London saying he had a hankering for something better, were handling. It was almost ready for the ex-soldiers in need of a break, or help. It only needed the ramp to the front door, and the lowered sink and so on in the kitchen, then it would be finished. Two more bedrooms had been built on the back, while there were three upstairs for the able-bodied.
They lay in bed talking of the cut, which they still missed, of the gift that had arrived today from the McDonalds, whose daughter Verity they had saved from death in the lock, which seemed like years ago. It had been a surprise, because Sir David McDonald had already given them the huge gift of arranging a prompt demob for Tom and Saul. It was only then that the girls had resigned from the Inland Waterways Scheme, which was winding down anyway, and returned the GUCCC boats to Bull’s Bridge, eager to start on the hotel project they had all decided upon.
As the stars filled the sky they talked of the brave gamble of the Holmeses, who sold up their house and invested the proceeds in the hotel as long as one of the hotel lounges was called the William Lounge, after their son, Polly’s twin brother. They and Lord and Lady Clement each had an apartment on the second floor, though Mrs B and Rogers wouldn’t budge from the Butler’s Pantry, because, as Mrs B said, they would be in overall charge of the catering and let no one forget it.
Tom had grunted, ‘No one would dare.’
Sylvia reminded them, as Polly tossed and turned, ‘After which Tom had not been allowed second helpings for two days.’
The laughter and chat had continued until they tried to sleep, but Polly couldn’t sleep and Verity had thrown a pillow and told her to stop wriggling. Polly had complained, ‘I can’t help it, I’m so nervous, so happy, and I love him so much.’
‘Oh, shut up,’ the two others had yelled together.
In the end they had crept down to the kitchen and sneaked a bottle of wine from the fridge, and five glasses, and were on their way out when they saw Rogers peering at them from the Butler’s Pantry. Verity put her fingers to her lips. He nodded, and they went on their way, tapping lightly at Bet and Fran’s door.
All five of them had sat up until the early hours slouching on the three beds, talking about Sylvia getting to the church on time in Henry’s Rolls-Royce which he barely used now, having bought himself a motorcycle and sidecar as being more suitable for a time of austerity.
Sylvia had said how Pamela refused to sit in the sidecar without a helmet because he was such a dreadful driver. Fran was laughing so much she had to bite on a pillow or wake the household.
Verity had explained that the Rolls-Royce would be kept and used for the wedding receptions the hotel would provide. Tom would be the driver, as well as doing many other things.
They had then talked of the flat above the garages where Verity and Tom would live after the wedding, and which they had spruced up no end, while Saul and Polly had been doing the same with the small house behind the stables where the grooms had formerly lived.
Dobbo and his wife, and Dougie, were in apartments of similar sizes. And Pup and Rover spent most of the time foraging for burglars and eyeing up the pigs in the copse, trying to work out if they were friend or foe.
Finally they had grown quiet, and as she was allowing herself to fall asleep Sylvia had heard the click of the door when Bet and Fran tiptoed out, and it had all been as good as the cut, or almost, for here there were no kingfishers, or otters. But her final thoughts were that perhaps there would be, when the second stage of the renovation was completed. For then the clearing of the small lake in the north corner would be complete, and Joe could perfect her drawings of wildlife.
In the morning, as the girls helped to zip up Sylvia’s dress they talked of the kingfisher that Joe had painted for her and Steve, and which Saul had framed. ‘Where will you put it, Sylv?’ Polly said, standing back and smoothing down the folds of Sylvia’s dress.
‘Above the mantelpiece, it’s so beautiful.’
‘You know that Joe has hung the one you did for him on your return from the orphanage above the fireplace in his room, in between the two parents’ quarters on the second floor?’
Sylvia laughed slightly. ‘Yes, he showed me.’
Verity muttered, ‘Dreadful though it is because, quite frankly, darling, I have never, ever seen a kingfisher that shape, but they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It just shows how much he loves you.’
The other two were screaming with laughter and pretending to beat her as they heard a vehicle driving along the gravel. They sneaked a look from the window, and saw that it was the boaters arriving, having hired a charabanc to get them to the wedding, with just time for the reception, and a few pints, as Sid had written to say. They’d also brought the old bulldog, Samson, and Reginald Forsythe who the girls had first met on the towpath with Dog, and then Pup. They’d all go back the same day, and a boater would take Reginald on, after they’d stayed t
he night with Sid.
Sid had said he and the missus could only afford one day away from the cut. During the reception, Henry and Thomas were going to talk to them all about possible jobs with people he knew on the river when things really became quiet on the cut, though Sid and the missus would always be welcome to run the bar at Howard House Hotel. Samson and Reginald Forsythe would be welcomed as residents in return for an advisory role as keeper of the guests’ pets.
And now, Sylvia thought, as the double doors into the chapel opened and the brides’ mothers slipped into the church, while their men waited at the altar, there was only Maudie and Timmo to settle in a place that was right for them, but she knew it would be here, because she felt it in her water. She smiled at Ma Porter, who sat with Steerer Porter and Jimmy in the back row. Ah, yes, she felt it in her water.
She held Verity and Polly’s trains, and murmured, ‘Come on, girls, get a gallop on, our men are waiting and we have a future to live.’
Polly and Verity turned and smiled at one another. ‘Oh, shut up,’ Verity whispered. ‘Lovely Sylv.’
Polly shook her head. ‘We just have to remember it’s one for all, and all for one.’
Harry was thumping out the Wedding March for the third time, but later he would be playing at the reception with Steve on saxophone, and probably Sylvia and Saul singing. Henry with Verity on his arm said, ‘For goodness’ sake, let’s get on with it, we’ve all waited long enough for this day, and, what’s more, the champagne will be warming.’
Thomas said, as they started down the aisle, in step as they’d practised, ‘We seem one bottle of wine short. Anybody know anything about it?’
The girls just smiled, and he said, ‘Yes, I thought so. No headaches though, that’s my girls. Trenchermen to the last.’
They were all laughing as they reached the altar, and Saul and Tom only had eyes for their brides, and Steve for his wife.
They had moored up at last, thought Sylvia. Home and dry, and full of hope for the future.
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Did you love Hope on the Waterways?
Go back to where it all began in 1943….
Nineteen-year-old Polly Holmes is leaving poor bombed London behind to join the war effort on Britain’s canals.
Stepping aboard the Marigold amid pouring rain, there’s lots for Polly to get to grips with. Not least her fellow crew: strong and impetuous Verity, whose bark is worse than her bite, and seasoned skipper Bet.
With her sweetheart away fighting in the RAF and her beloved brother killed in action, there’s plenty of heartache to be healed on the waterway. And as Polly rolls up her sleeves and gets stuck into life on board the narrowboat – making the gruelling journey London up to Birmingham – she will soon discover that a world of new beginnings awaits amid the anguish of the war.
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March 1944, West London
It’s been five months since Verity Clement fled home for a life on Britain’s canals and she could never have imagined how tough it would get. Yet hauling cargo between London and Birmingham is far easier to face than the turbulence she’s left behind.
When Verity’s sweetheart returns unexpectedly from the front line, she dares to dream of a brighter future. But life aboard the Marigold is never smooth sailing. New recruit Sylvia is struggling with demons from her past while crewmate Polly must carry on in the wake of devastating news. Verity does her best to help, but a shocking discovery is about to turn her own life upside-down.
As the realities of war begin to take their toll, the waterway girls will have to pull together if they are to survive the uncertain times ahead.
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‘Would anyone ever think of her with real love?’
It’s July 1942, and twenty-three year old nightclub singer Kate Watson has made a home for herself in bombed-blitzed London. A motley crew of friends has replaced the family she’s not spoken to in years. That is until the evening Kate’s sister Sarah walks back into her life.
Sarah has a favour to ask: she needs Kate to return home to Dorset for one month to look after her daughter, Lizzie. Reluctantly Kate agrees, even though it means facing the troubled past she hoped she’d escaped.
Kate is confronted once again by the prejudice and scrutiny of the townsfolk, including the new village vicar. As the war continues, Kate must fight her own battles and find not only the courage to forge a future but perhaps, at long last, love.
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Epub ISBN: 9781473538818
Version 1.0
Published by Arrow Books in 2018
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Copyright © Milly Adams 2018
Cover photograph by Silas Manhood except background images © Getty Images
Milly Adams has asserted her right to be identified as the author of this Work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in Great Britain by Arrow Books in 2018
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781784756932
