by Nancy Revell
The manager beckoned to Tommy and Polly to be the first to sample the magnificent spread.
It didn’t take long for everyone else to follow.
As Polly chatted, ate and looked around her she felt humbled that this most wonderful and also most extravagant of days was happening because of the kindness and thoughtfulness of others.
How apt, she thought, that such generosity and unselfishness was happening at this special time of the year.
As the afternoon wore on, Polly introduced Tommy to Jimmy and his squad of riveters, who had all brought their significant others. The women made a point of saying how wonderful it was to finally meet ‘the women welders’. Polly knew their worries had been put to rest.
Maud and Mavis regaled Tommy with stories of when Polly was a little girl, and Mr Clement introduced his wife and daughters and told them he was sure he’d got some ‘smashing shots’.
Polly had gone to find Kate, who was chatting to Alfie and his grandmother. Polly didn’t think she looked as decrepit as they’d all been led to believe.
‘I’m so glad you didn’t sell the dress,’ Polly said to Kate, looking down and touching some of the embroidery on the bodice.
‘You don’t think I was really going to sell it, do you?’ Kate laughed.
After being introduced to Mrs Jenkins and her husband, Tommy introduced Polly to the Home Guard unit he’d helped to train. When the Major wheeled himself over to where they were all sitting, Polly leant over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
‘I know what you did,’ she whispered in his ear. She smiled and mouthed, Thank you.
Tommy, she knew, still had no idea. She’d tell him later.
As the afternoon turned into early evening, Vera and Rina brought out the wedding cake.
Everyone gasped at their ability to produce something so exorbitant and grand during these times of rationing. Both women batted away the compliments, with Rina explaining that it was Vera who had created the very beautiful and extremely intricate decorative roses.
As no one was at all keen on making speeches, George did the honour of making the toast to the newly-weds. Everyone gave a boisterous three cheers before sipping their drinks. Polly looked over to see Lily looking as proud as punch of her future husband. She had hardly left his side all day.
Tommy was introduced to Toby and was intrigued to find out that he was a friend of Peter’s. They were joined by George. Being surrounded by others in military outfits was making George feel so much better about fulfilling his side of his bargain with Lily – helped along by the hotel’s very nice selection of whiskies.
Naturally they ended up talking about the war. Whether it was because of the wedding, or the fact that it was Christmas, there seemed to be a feeling of hope that as the year was drawing to a close the future was looking much brighter for the Allies. Certainly better than it had a few months previously. As Toby pointed out, Rommel was trapped in Tunisia, the Germans had failed to take Stalingrad, and the Japanese looked ready to abandon Guadalcanal.
They all made a toast to victory.
And a speedy one at that.
While Tommy chatted with Ralph and the rest of the diving team, Polly found herself gravitating back to her squad, whom she’d hardly seen since Monday – the longest time she had been parted from them in two and a half years. They all gassed away as though it had been months rather than days.
A little later Polly saw that Dorothy and Toby were slow dancing to the band’s rendition of ‘White Christmas’, and Angie and Quentin were playing with Lucille and Hope. Bel had told Polly of Angie’s rather bizarre comment in the car on the way to the Grand that Quentin had only been invited so he could teach her how to be posh. Polly didn’t see much evidence of that. They both seemed to be having far too much fun.
When her feet started to ache and her voice began to go hoarse, Polly went to sit with her ma and Beryl, who was keeping a particularly beady eye on Iris and Audrey. They seemed to be spending rather a lot of time chatting and dancing with two of Joe’s younger Home Guard pals.
The three women sat in a contented silence for a while, watching the guests, smiling at some of the high-spirited antics, and raising eyebrows as Maisie and Vivian danced together.
None of them, however, noticed two naval officers hurrying in from the cold.
Charlotte was standing next to Rosie, who was chatting to Harold and his wife, when she spotted the pair.
She watched them for a while.
Yes, they were definitely the same ones she’d seen yesterday.
She looked across to Maisie and Vivian, who were having a break from the dance floor and were chatting at the bar with Lily and George.
It didn’t take them long before they too spotted their dates from yesterday.
Charlotte watched as the two men, dressed in their smart white uniforms, stopped at the bottom of the wide staircase and looked on at the wedding party.
She caught their surprise at seeing Maisie and Vivian standing by the bar.
Charlotte expected them to walk over, greet each other, embrace and kiss as they had done yesterday.
But they didn’t.
They didn’t even wave.
Or mouth hello.
All four simply looked at each other and then looked away.
How odd.
Charlotte looked at Maisie, then at Vivian.
At Lily and George.
And then at her sister.
Dr Parker and Helen were chatting on one of the small leather chesterfields set back a little from the rest of the party.
Dr Parker didn’t think he’d had such a lovely day in a long time.
Thank goodness they’d put their falling-out well and truly behind them. Their friendship was back on firm footing. He was thankful that Polly had nudged Helen into apologising.
‘That’s a nice dress Charlotte’s got on,’ Dr Parker said, seeing her looking bored as Rosie chatted to Harold and his wife. ‘You know,’ he glanced at Helen, ‘I think I recognise it.’
Helen laughed.
‘Kate said she had an idea what to do with it. As always, she’s worked wonders.’
‘So,’ Dr Parker changed the subject, ‘what’s your mother up to today? Seeing as she’s not throwing her usual Christmas extravaganza.’
‘Good question,’ Helen said. ‘I have no idea. I’m just so pleased I’m not having to spend it with her and all her old cronies.’
Dr Parker took a sup of his bitter.
‘Well, I for one am so glad Tommy and Polly decided to get married on Christmas Day. It’s been rather special, all in all, hasn’t it?’
Helen smiled and nodded.
They were quiet for a moment.
They both knew they’d been a tad antisocial. They’d chatted with Polly and Tommy, of course. Tommy had thanked John for all that he had done for him and John had dismissed it, saying it was his job and wishing him luck when he got out there. Polly had thanked Helen for the gorgeous floral displays and her beautiful bouquet. Like John, Helen had dismissed it and said she was just glad that Bel had unwittingly given her the idea.
Helen had briefly chatted with the women welders, but most of the day had been spent with John, or with Gloria and Hope. She had enjoyed being able to socialise with them openly, rather than having to be all clandestine for fear of her mother finding out. Helen and Gloria had both said how much they would have loved Jack to have been there with them and they both agreed that Hope was growing up fast. She needed to know her father.
‘John?’ Helen suddenly sounded very serious.
‘I have to know something. I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while, but I keep putting it off. Trying to tell myself that it’s not important. Or rather, that it would be best not to know.’
Dr Parker took a swig of his pint of bitter.
Was it that obvious?
Did Helen realise that he was in love with her?
‘Go on,’ he said, even though he didn’t want her to do any suc
h thing.
‘It’s probably totally the wrong place to ask you.’
She looked around.
Everyone seemed so happy. So festive and jolly.
‘But I’m just going to say it.’
She paused.
Dr Parker braced himself for humiliation.
‘Was …’ Helen hesitated.
She took a deep breath.
‘John … was my baby a girl? Like I’d thought all along?’
Dr Parker stared at Helen.
This was the last question he would have imagined Helen asking him.
He immediately felt guilty for being relieved.
Looking at Helen’s face he could see that the heartache of her miscarriage was still very raw.
He took hold of her hand, looked into her startling emerald eyes and nodded.
‘Yes, your baby was a girl,’ he said.
Helen kept hold of his hand tightly, as she had done in the hospital after her miscarriage.
‘Are you all right?’ Dr Parker looked at her.
God, how he wanted to hold her. Comfort her. Kiss her.
‘Yes, I’ll be fine.’ Helen took a deep, juddering breath. ‘Just don’t be too nice to me otherwise I’ll cry. And I don’t want to cry.’
She looked at John.
She had an insane urge to kiss him.
She laughed.
‘Can’t possibly cry,’ she said. ‘Not with the amount of mascara I’ve got on. I’ll end up looking like a panda.’
‘Well,’ Dr Parker said, glad to see a smile on her face, ‘you’d still be a very beautiful panda.’
Helen nudged him playfully.
A part of her felt relief that she’d asked. She knew now, and she had not fallen apart.
Perhaps she could finally start to move on.
‘Well, look who’s here.’ Dr Parker’s voice had changed from jovial to serious.
Helen looked up and followed John’s gaze.
‘Talk of the devil,’ she said.
‘At least we now know what she’s up to today,’ Helen said. ‘I should have guessed she would end up here.’
Helen stared at her mother, who was chatting to the doorman and giving him a Christmas tip. She was clearly well on her way. Amelia was behind her.
‘Helen.’
Suddenly Helen’s view of her mother was blotted out by a vision of pastel pink.
It was Bel.
‘Hi, I hope you two are enjoying yourselves?’
‘Wonderful wedding,’ Dr Parker said. ‘And Helen tells me it was mainly your doing.’
‘Hardly,’ Bel chuckled. ‘All of this is down to Lily and George.’ She looked around and saw they were both sitting at the bar. Lily was roaring with laughter at something George had said.
‘Actually, I just wanted to come and thank you for the flowers,’ Bel said.
She thought Helen looked a little distracted by something happening behind Bel.
‘Oh, you’re welcome, Bel,’ Helen said.
Bloody hell! Her mother had spotted her and was coming over.
Bel felt someone behind her. Instinctively she turned around and came face to face with Miriam.
It was the closest she had ever been to her half-sister.
‘Darling,’ Miriam glanced at Bel before focusing on Helen, ‘you didn’t say the wedding was at the Grand!’
Miriam looked at Dr Parker and forced a smile.
Dr Parker forced one back.
Miriam turned and looked at Bel again. She then stared back at Helen.
‘Well, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?’
Helen glanced at her mother.
Then at Bel.
She hesitated for a moment.
‘Yes, Mother, this is Mrs Isabelle Elliot.’
Helen turned to Bel.
‘And this, as I’m sure you’ve gathered already, Bel, is my mother. Mrs Miriam Crawford.’
Miriam and Bel looked at each other and tentatively shook hands.
‘Well, darling,’ Miriam turned her attention back to Helen, ‘mustn’t keep Amelia floundering around on her own over there.’ She turned to see Amelia chatting to the manager. ‘So, toodle-oo. Enjoy the rest of your wedding.’
Bel watched Miriam worm her way through the throng of guests to her friend.
She turned back to Helen and Dr Parker.
‘Well, I’d better get back to the other guests.’ Bel paused. ‘Thanks again, Helen.’
She looked at Dr Parker. ‘And lovely to see you.’
When Bel had gone, Helen sat up on the sofa and looked at John.
‘Please tell me I’m going mad? That I’m seeing things?’
Dr Parker didn’t say anything. He had been equally taken aback.
Helen took in a deep gulp of air and slowly breathed out.
‘Same hair. Same mouth. Same lips.’
She paused.
‘Same eyes.’
Another pause.
‘If it weren’t for the age gap, they could be twins.’
Dr Parker watched Helen and saw the proverbial penny drop.
She had mentioned a few times to him of late that Bel reminded her of someone.
Now she knew.
Bel was the absolute spit of her mother.
When nine o’clock struck, Tommy looked at Polly, who nodded.
They had agreed beforehand that this was the time they’d leave the party.
Determined that everyone else should stay for as long as they wanted, they went around all the guests, saying their thank-yous and goodbyes.
They looked for Lily but couldn’t find her.
Seeing George, they both squeezed their way through the melee.
‘We’re going now, George, but we really wanted to see Lily as well, to say one final thank you.’
‘Lily’s just had to nip to the ladies’ room,’ George said. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll tell her. You’ve both thanked us at least two dozen times already, so get yourselves off.’
Tommy shook his hand.
‘Thank you,’ he said, his tone and handshake showing just how much his words were meant.
‘You just take care of yourself out there,’ George said, his face serious.
‘I fully intend to,’ Tommy said.
Polly flung her arms around George and hugged him tightly.
‘Thank you. Thank you both. This has meant so much to us. It’s been truly magical.’
George felt himself becoming unusually sentimental.
‘Go on now. You’re wasting precious time.’
It took Polly a few minutes to locate her ma and Bel. They were sitting with Arthur in the reception area. They looked happily exhausted.
‘Thanks, Ma,’ she said, bending down and giving her a hug. ‘For being so understanding.’
Neither of them needed to acknowledge what Polly was referring to.
Agnes cupped her daughter’s face in her hands.
‘You’re just like your father, stubborn as a mule.’
She paused, then smiled.
‘But I wouldn’t have yer any different.’
Bel stood up.
‘I think I’ve got the best sister-in-law in the whole wide world,’ Polly said.
‘No, I think I have,’ Bel said. And she meant it. She would be forever indebted to Polly. She had rescued her when she was a child, taking her to Agnes after she’d been abandoned by her ma. Polly had not only saved her life that day but given her a new one.
The two lifelong friends hugged each other hard.
‘Thanks. For everything,’ Polly whispered in her ear.
‘I’ve enjoyed every minute!’ Bel laughed. ‘Now go and enjoy your honeymoon. Your proper honeymoon.’
Arthur pushed himself out of his chair.
‘Congratulations, pet,’ he said, holding her hand firmly.
‘And don’t worry about this one,’ he said, nodding over to Tommy, who was chatting to his new mother- and sister-in-law.
‘He’s
going to be just fine.’
He paused.
‘My grandson is a very lucky lad. You’ve brought such light into his life. And into my life too.’
Polly thought it was one of the loveliest things anyone had ever said to her.
When Tommy gave his grandda a hug, Polly saw tears in the old man’s eyes.
‘I’m so proud of yer, Tom. I don’t think you realise how much. I’ve always been proud of yer.’
Arthur grabbed his grandson and gave him another hug, holding on to him for just a few extra seconds, loath to let him go but knowing he had to.
‘Go on, now!’ he said, his pale blue eyes looking watery. ‘Get yerself off ’n enjoy yer honeymoon.’
When they reached the top landing, Polly held her rose bouquet out so everyone could see.
There was a ripple of excitement.
‘I hope whoever catches my beautiful bouquet …’ Polly shouted out.
She quickly scanned the room but couldn’t see Helen.
‘ … I hope that they are as lucky as me.’
And with that she turned around and threw the bouquet high into the air.
When she turned back, she was just in time to see it almost hit Angie in the face.
Quentin had caught it just in time.
Everyone laughed.
Quentin went almost as red as the roses.
He handed the bouquet to Angie, who accepted, albeit a little reluctantly.
‘Merry Christmas everyone!’ Polly and Tommy shouted out to the guests gathered below. To all the people they loved and cared for, and with whom they had shared this amazingly special day.
‘Merry Christmas!’ everyone chorused back.
Chapter Seventy-Three
When Tommy and Polly walked into their honeymoon suite, they were speechless.
Tommy whistled.
‘We’re one very lucky couple,’ he said, turning a full three hundred and sixty degrees, taking in the room’s carved wooden panelling, tapestry curtains, huge oil paintings – and, of course, the most amazing four-poster bed.
‘I think that’s about triple the size of our bed in John Street.’ Tommy laughed.
Polly pulled back the covers to see that the women welders had sprinkled the sheets with confetti.
