by Nancy Revell
Polly chuckled to herself. Only Maisie could have found such an unusual – and clearly very expensive – doll.
Hearing her daughter’s voice resounding through the house, Bel came padding downstairs, looking wide awake and in full wedding mode.
Polly was made to eat a bowl of porridge to give her the energy to get through the day. In the middle of the table was placed a big pot of tea that was to be regularly topped up as the morning wore on.
Joe took Lucille – and her new dolly – out to play in the snow and to build her first-ever snowman.
The front door was left ajar to allow Beryl to pop in and out, sometimes with Iris and Audrey, who were being permitted to wear make-up for the first time.
The delivery boy from the florist arrived with a beautiful bride’s bouquet simply made up of red roses, as well as the buttonholes and corsages, each an ivory rose encased in a single green leaf.
Polly, Bel, Agnes, Beryl and Pearl stood and gawped.
‘Wait until you see the display in the church!’ Bel said.
On hearing the wedding flowers were Helen Crawford’s wedding gift, Pearl muttered, ‘More money than sense.’ But only so her daughter could hear.
Vivian showed up mid-morning, looking more like Mae West than Mae West herself in a red fishtail dress with a plunging neckline. She refused a cup of tea for fear it would spoil her make-up and got to work on Polly’s hair straight away.
Polly had given Vivian more or less full rein over what to do with her hair. She knew that anything would look better than the only two styles she knew – loose or tied up in a turban. Vivian had told her that she was going to do an ‘up and down do’, which made no sense to Polly.
Positioned in the middle of the kitchen on a hard-backed chair, Polly was ordered to stay there until Bel had done her make-up and Vivian her coiffure.
Arthur had a quick shave, put on his newly pressed suit and tie and made his escape to the John Street flat. Not before, however, Bel had put in his buttonhole and given him a once-over.
Joe, now wearing the uniform of his old regiment, left shortly afterwards, having been officially released from doing any more chores, although he was called back within seconds of leaving by a slightly demented Bel waving Tommy’s buttonhole, which Arthur had forgotten to take.
At eleven o’clock everyone stopped what they were doing to listen to the church bells. It was only the second time the Ministry of Home Security had allowed them to be rung since the war had started. The first time being just over five weeks ago in celebration of the British victory at El Alamein in Egypt.
They had just stopped ringing out across the town when Kate turned up with the dress.
She had been transported to the house in George’s MG and her arrival was treated as though the King himself had turned up for a visit.
The whole household came to a standstill as Kate’s diminutive form, dressed in a simple, classy black dress she had designed herself, her arms outstretched, carefully carried the wedding dress down the hall.
The kitchen door was shut, leaving just the women in the room, the dogs having been ushered into the scullery.
Twenty minutes later Polly was standing in the middle of the kitchen. All the chairs had been pushed back to create as much space as possible
Kate, Bel and Vivian stood back.
They all gasped in unison.
None of them needed to say a word. The looks on their faces said it all.
The dress was stunning.
The ivory chiffon dress had been embroidered throughout with intricate patterns. A scattering of crystals had been sown into the fabric, giving off a subtle sparkle. The sweetheart neckline was sensual but still classy, and the perfectly tailored bodice accentuated Polly’s nipped-in waist.
The long sleeves and flowing train completed a perfect silhouette of femininity.
When Agnes came back from Beryl’s, she took one look at Polly and her eyes filled with tears – the first, but certainly not the last, that she would have to force back on her daughter’s wedding day.
Bel went up to her and Joe’s room and put on her dress. Her thoughts went to her own wedding day just over a year ago. Then her hand went to her flat stomach. She pushed away thoughts of the child she’d love to have but which showed no signs of showing up.
Just after midday, Gloria turned up and there were more gasps of delight on seeing Hope looking adorable in her exquisite flower-girl dress.
Lucille immediately took command of her charge, grabbed her little hand and took her to see what Santa had brought.
Gloria looked at Polly.
‘Eee. You’re a sight for sore eyes,’ she said, before leaving for the church.
When Polly was finally allowed to go into her bedroom and look at herself in the full-length mirror, she too gasped.
‘Oh, my goodness,’ she laughed. ‘Who’s that?’ She pointed at herself in the mirror.
She turned to look at her dressmaker, make-up artist and hairstylist who were all standing in the doorway watching her reaction.
Polly looked back at herself again.
This time she simply stood and stared.
She turned, blinking back tears of gratitude.
‘Don’t you dare cry!’ Bel ordered.
‘And don’t touch your hair,’ Vivian said.
Polly looked at Kate, who was inspecting the dress from top to bottom.
‘Thank you, Kate,’ she said. ‘Thank you so much. I really am stuck for words. It’s gorgeous.’
She turned back to look at herself again.
‘Oh, I forgot!’ Kate suddenly said, backing out of the room and returning a minute later with a small box.
She handed it to Polly.
‘It’s your “something blue”. And my wedding present to you.’
Polly opened the small box and took out a garter that was more a work of art than a piece of hosiery.
‘Oh my goodness! That’s incredible.’ Polly marvelled at the sky-blue beading, embroidery and lace that had been sown onto the fabric. ‘I think it should be put in a display case – not worn where no one can see it!’ she said.
‘Wrong, hon.’ Vivian walked over to Polly and took the garter. ‘Someone is going to see it.’ She winked at Polly before carefully crouching down – no mean feat in her figure-hugging dress – and putting the garter on Polly, adjusting it expertly in the middle of her thigh.
‘And, finally …’ Kate said.
She disappeared once again and returned moments later.
‘ … the veil.’
She handed it to Vivian.
‘It’s amazing, isn’t it?’ Bel said as she watched Vivian take the six-foot-long tulle. It too had a scattering of twinkling crystals embedded in it to complement the dress.
Vivian slid the comb into place, careful not to spoil the fruits of her morning’s labour.
Again, everyone simply stood still and looked, momentarily entranced by the vision before them.
‘Right.’ Bel broke the spell.
She looked at her watch.
‘It’s nearly half past. We need to get everyone to the church.’
On cue, they heard the honk of George’s horn as he pulled up outside the house. It was followed by cries of excitement as just about every child who lived on Tatham Street ditched their presents from Santa to see a life-sized bright red toy crunch its way slowly down the street through the snow. Its arrival was made all the more spectacular by the long ivory ribbon decorating the bonnet – while the driver was dressed in full military regalia, the medals adorning his chest glinting in the bright midday sun.
Amidst shouts of ‘Don’t be nervous!’ and ‘Just enjoy it!’ the house slowly emptied itself.
Agnes, wearing a rather glamorous black dress and matching hat, was the last to say goodbye to her daughter.
She gave Polly a hug and then stood back and simply looked at her.
‘Beautiful.’
Feeling the tears coming again, she stopped her
self from saying anything else.
Taking Hope’s little hand, they walked out the front door and climbed into the front passenger seat.
Bel, Kate, and Vivian had already concertinaed themselves in the back along with Lucille, who was wearing her new yellow dress and was sitting on her mother’s lap, gazing out at the growing swell of spectators.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Over the river at 1 Park Avenue, Roker, Helen was also just getting ready to leave.
She had dithered as to whether or not to wear the new blue dress that Kate had made for the launch. John hadn’t seen her in it as they had been in the middle of their falling-out.
She was glad they were friends again.
She’d missed him; not that she’d tell him that.
Checking herself in the hallway mirror, she was glad she’d opted for her favourite black rayon crepe dress instead. She’d had to pour herself into it, but seeing how it accentuated her hourglass figure, it was worth it.
Helen looked at her watch. It was half twelve.
She went over to the window at the side of the house.
This was one day she wasn’t going to use public transport.
One of the pluses of having a grandfather who was rich and powerful was that he also had a chauffeur-driven car that he had been permitted to use in spite of fuel rationing.
She walked to the bottom of the stairs.
‘Right, Mother, I’m off now!’ she shouted up in the direction of her mother’s bedroom.
‘Oh, darling!’
Miriam came out of her room and walked to the top of the stairs.
Helen could tell instantly that she had already started on the gin and tonic.
‘I’m guessing by the lack of activity and the absence of Mrs Westley that you’re not having your usual Christmas Day soirée?’ Helen asked.
Miriam let out a light laugh. She had been in particularly good spirits since Helen’s miscarriage. Her daughter’s heartbreak had been her reprieve from what she saw as the ruination of her life.
‘Darling,’ Miriam squinted, inspecting her daughter as she always did before she left for any kind of a do, ‘as you have chosen to go to some welder’s wedding today rather than enjoy a Yuletide at home, I have not been left with much of a choice.’
She started to make her way down the stairs.
‘On top of which, I have not even got a husband by my side. I’m hardly going to entertain a load of happily-marrieds when I’m sitting at the table with just your grandfather for company.’
Helen bit her tongue as she always had to when it came to any kind of conversation regarding her father.
Miriam suddenly stopped mid-step.
‘And especially as I haven’t even got a Christmas tree to show off! How could I have a Christmas dinner party with no Christmas tree?’
She continued to walk down the last few carpeted steps.
‘It’s still a total mystery where the bloody thing went. Sounds to me as though the delivery firm took it to the wrong address. There’ll be hell to pay when I get to the bottom of this.’
Helen gave her mother a smile that for once was genuine.
Miriam reached the bottom step.
‘No, my dear, I’m doing what everyone else seems to be doing these days.’ She took a breath. ‘I’m going to do what I want to do. I’m sick of trying to please everyone else.’
Helen gasped.
‘Mother, I’ve never known you to do anything but please yourself.’
Miriam ignored her daughter’s barbed comment.
‘So, what are you doing then?’ Helen walked back over to the window. She looked out and saw her grandfather’s shiny black Jaguar pull up.
‘Sorry, Mother, must dash!’
She hurried to the front door.
Slamming it shut behind her, she made her way to the car, taking care not to slip in the snow.
Chapter Seventy
When everyone had gone, Polly stood in the middle of the kitchen. It looked as though it had been ransacked.
Bel, who had thought of just about everything, had left a little nip of brandy in a sherry glass on the table, along with a mint next to it.
Polly knocked it back in one go, before popping the mint imperial into her mouth.
She took a deep breath.
It was finally happening.
She was marrying Tommy.
She was marrying the man she loved.
A man whose love had taken her completely by surprise that day in the yard two and a half years ago.
Feeling a little dizzy and short of breath, she sat down on the kitchen chair. She jumped on hearing the blare of George’s horn. His arrival was followed by the shouts and jubilant cries of the neighbours’ children.
She stood up.
She didn’t think she had ever been this excited, nervous and happy all at once.
Picking up her bouquet, she walked to the front door and stepped out into the brilliant sunlight that had appeared late morning. Its rays seemed to reflect the white of the snow that was clearly determined to stay put.
George was standing ramrod straight. He had the passenger door open and was looking every bit the high-ranking and highly decorated army officer that Lily had wanted to show the world.
Arthur was sitting in the back, the window down, chatting to the rosy-faced children who had gathered round.
Polly took a deep breath, hooked the length of her veil over her arm, hitched up her wedding dress and carefully walked the few yards to her carriage.
Before driving off, George adhered to the age-old custom of throwing pennies from the car as they made to leave.
Only, George, being George, was throwing silver rather than copper.
His argument being that it was Christmas, after all.
Chapter Seventy-One
‘Hi, Gloria!’
Rosie clapped her gloved hands together as she and Charlotte approached the church. The sun might be glorious, but it was still icy cold.
Half the congregation was loitering outside, chatting and moving from one foot to the other on the pavement that had been shovelled clear of snow for the wedding entourage.
The air of excitement and anticipation was as crisp and clear as this Christmas Day.
A cursory scan of the crowd showed Marie-Anne was chatting to Rina, Hannah and Olly. Vera was with them and looked to be either squinting because of the sun or scowling at whatever Marie-Anne was saying.
Martha could be seen towering above her mam and dad, and just about everyone else, for that matter. She looked self-conscious. Rosie knew she felt uncomfortable in anything other than a pair of overalls.
Dorothy and Toby were chatting away. Angie was standing a little awkwardly with a slim, blond-haired chap who was wearing what looked like a very expensive suit.
Pearl was with Bill and Ronald, puffing away on a cigarette. She had a flimsy winter coat wrapped around her, the occasional breeze causing the bottom half to flap open. Rosie thought the violet-coloured dress she had on looked unusually classy. Certainly not her normal style.
Joe was standing with his friends from the Home Guard. Major Black, of course, was the centre of attention, chortling away and filling the air with the distinctive oaky aroma of cigar smoke. Rosie thought they all looked incredibly smart and handsome in their khaki uniforms.
‘Everyone’s just going in,’ Gloria said, smiling at Charlotte, who, she thought, was looking very grown up in her new red dress. ‘I swear Bel’s missed her vocation as a drill sergeant. She’s in there now, organising, or should I say ordering everyone about. Even Lucille and Hope are behaving themselves.’
As everyone slowly made their way into the church, Rosie spotted Helen and Dr Parker. They looked like a Hollywood couple. There was no denying Helen resembled Vivien Leigh, only taller and curvier, and Dr Parker was not unlike James Stewart, only younger and with lighter hair.
‘Wow!’ Charlotte said on walking into the church and seeing the Christmas tree, whic
h now had carefully placed candles on its branches. They had just been lit, their flickering yellow glow adding to the rather magical ambience.
‘Hi, you two.’ Bel came hurrying up the aisle. Charlotte stared at her in the pretty pink dress she had only ever seen the shop mannequin wear.
‘Can I put you here?’ Bel gently herded Charlotte, Rosie and Gloria into one of the pews near the front. She had purposely put Gloria in the seat by the aisle so she could have a good view of Hope as she walked with Lucille behind the bride.
Rosie looked around and saw Jimmy and his squad, their significant others in the pew further back. Alfie and his grandmother were in the pew behind them, along with Harold and his wife. Maud and Mavis were sitting in the pew behind them with Mrs Jenkins and her husband. Rosie thought her neighbour looked as happy as Larry. She was glad.
She felt pretty happy herself.
She thought back to her own wedding at Guildford registry office and smiled. She put her hand in her coat pocket and felt the corner of Peter’s letter. Having it near to her made her feel as though a part of him was with her now.
‘So,’ Charlotte said, keeping her voice low, ‘you were going to tell me how you and Peter met.’
‘Well, it’s a long story.’ Rosie looked at her sister. She’d told Charlotte that she’d heard from Peter and it would seem that this – and the romance of the wedding – had triggered the morning’s inquisition.
‘Oh, look, there’s Lily,’ Rosie said.
Charlotte knew her sister was purposely changing the subject but looked anyway. She’d quiz her later.
At the end of the pew, second from the front, Lily’s vibrant auburn-coloured hair was clearly visible. They could also see the back of her fur coat. There was a space next to her ready for when George had completed his chauffeuring duties.
Kate was on her other side.
And next to Kate were Maisie and Vivian.
