Alice's Long Road Home
Page 12
Alice nodded. ‘You did, Sam. And what I told you then, I tell you again. Don’t worry. I understand. I really do.’
He glanced at his watch. ‘I’d better buzz off,’ he said. He smiled down at her. ‘I loved meeting Fay and Evie,’ he said. ‘It’s so good that they’re going to be at our wedding.’ He gave Alice a final hug. ‘So, let’s see…we know the date, we’ve booked the church – but we shall have to choose the music we want, though there’s plenty of time for that. I’ve hooked in my best man – you’ve decided who your bridesmaids are going to be, and we’ve got a good enough guest list worked out, so now my father can make some arrangements for the reception.’ Sam paused, as if counting in his head. ‘So – at the moment we’re on track, aren’t we?’ He paused. ‘It’ll be a wonderful day, Alice. I know it will.’
They kissed again, and she watched him go.
That’s all very well for you to say, Sam, Alice thought, but what’s bothering me is – who’s giving me away, where am I leaving from on the day, and what on Earth am I going to wear? Where am I going to find that wedding dress? And will I have enough money to pay for it, and for everything else as well?
But as Sam’s train to London began chuffing away from the station, he had his own thoughts as he stared out of the window. Last night, seeing Alice with Fay and Eve, watching and listening as the three had laughed and reminisced, had been so happy together, had made him slightly anxious about the life he was offering Alice. It was going to be so, so different from the one she’d so clearly loved, and was still loving there in Dorchester. Was it really fair of him to expect her to follow in his wake, to be prepared for everything connected with his professional life, for sudden interruptions to their personal plans, for his own somewhat distracted behaviour at times when things weren’t going well? Even if she had assured him that she knew exactly what was ahead for them both…?
Sam frowned briefly. Those years on the farm had seemed to bring something out in Alice which he’d never noticed before…she was still the same, adorable Alice, yet not quite the same… And if it wasn’t possible for him to make her as happy as she was now, he would never forgive himself.
Could it be the fact that they were not the pigeon-pair his mother had always thought them?
Or had it been wishful thinking all the time?
Chapter Nine
In the following days, conversation in the office centred largely around the lack of any suitable bridal wear on offer – Valerie so completely obsessed with the matter she wouldn’t stop going on and on about it.
‘I cannot believe that it’s proving so difficult to find a simple bridal gown for you, Alice,’ she said. ‘It’s not as if you’re looking for anything extravagant or out-of-this world – not that you’d need that kind of thing because you’re going to look gorgeous, whatever it turns out to be – but the bride is the centre of any wedding, all eyes will be on you – and the dress is what everyone will want to see, and to talk about! We must find a dress!’
Everything that Valerie was saying made Alice shiver inside, and she wished, again, that she and Sam could just escape on the day and go away somewhere quiet to be married. Just the two of them. With her wearing her grey dress, if necessary. But Alice knew that that was an impossible thought – and anyway, she’d already issued informal invitations to the Foulkeses. It was too late now! And as that thought struck her, so did something else – wasn’t it another of her responsibilities to arrange the printing and despatching of formal invitations? But how would she word it? It was usual for the parents of the bride to “request the pleasure”, wasn’t it? She could hardly put “Alice Watts requests the pleasure of your company at her wedding” could she?
The frown on Alice’s forehead deepened each time she thought about all the details that she was having to take care of, and she found herself reaching for her gold anchor, time and time again. As if by fingering it she was begging her parents for help. But all she heard in her head was her mother’s voice – keep on an even keel, keep on an even keel…
Well, Alice’s overpowering dream had come true. She was to be Sam’s wife. Surely that was all that mattered? Yet, the fulfilment of her heart’s desire had brought with it a mass of silly, worrying, troublesome details that had to be sorted by her alone. There was no one else. And, after all, it wasn’t as if she’d been given any warning that Sam was going to ask her to marry him…that in itself was unusual, wasn’t it? It had come out of the blue, catching her unawares…making her feel slightly unprepared to deal with what lay ahead.
The weather was becoming warmer and less wet as the middle of May approached, and that seemed to inspire many more customers to start looking around for houses to buy and places to rent. And it was a relief to Alice that she and Valerie had to concentrate more on work, and less on her wedding dress problem. And after all, when you thought about it, there were still seven months to go…and in that time, surely to heaven someone, somewhere, would produce something she could buy. At the last minute, if necessary. The war would have been over for two and a half years. When was austerity going to come to an end, and some hint of prosperity begin again?
When Alice got home from work on the Friday evening of the weekend she was going to spend with Gloria and Don in Totterdown, there was a letter waiting for her on the mat.
My own, dearest Alice
It seems such a long time since we had those precious hours together in Clifton a couple of weeks ago, but I keep thinking about it, and about Fay and Evie. What good company they were! But of course, mostly I am thinking of you, darling, and I can hardly wait for the moment when I will be able to call you “my wife”.
Last night, for some reason, I just could not get to sleep – it must have been 1 o’clock – or even later – before I eventually drifted off. My mind had been going over and over everything you and I had talked about, and it occurred to me that one thing we had not touched on was our invitations, and the wording on them. Of course, your dear parents are not here, so sadly they cannot be included, but I wondered what you felt about this:
“Alice Watts & Samuel Edward James Carmichael have the greatest pleasure in inviting ??????. to their wedding at St. Mary Redcliffe, Bristol, on the 23rd December 1947. And later at ???????. (RSVP to Dorchester or Clifton)
I think this would be a lovely way to do it, Alice, and I hope you do, too. And by the way, my father knows a good printing firm who would do the honours for us. Let me know your thoughts, and whether you would like him to arrange this part of things.
All my love, always and ever
Sam.
PS. I don’t want you to worry about a thing. It will all happen, and then we’ll have the rest of our live left to enjoy ourselves, and to enjoy each other.
PPS. Nearly forgot! Betty insists that she wants to make the cake! Are you happy with that?
S
After she’d finished reading it – several times – Alice put the letter to her lips and kissed it, feeling lighter of heart than she had for days. If only she could stop worrying, she scolded herself. Sam had said “it will all happen” – and he was right. Especially because he seemed to read her mind and to know what she was thinking. And how to find all the answers for her. And of course – his suggestion that they, the bride and groom, should invite their guests to their wedding was perfect! Why hadn’t Alice thought of that herself? It was the obvious answer to that particular problem… And as for Betty wanting to bake and ice her wedding cake – something Alice hadn’t even thought about yet – was there another woman in the whole world who could surpass Betty’s ability? Her prowess? Of course Betty should do it!
So, with all that solved, what was the next thing on Alice’s worry list?
But before she went into that, she would reply to Sam’s letter.
My dear Samuel
Thank you so much for your letter.
Sam, I honestly believe that you were meant to be my husband because you are already reading my mind! And isn’t that wh
at married couples do? Know what each other is thinking, without the need for words? I, too, have been having one or two sleepless nights, going over and over what’s ahead of us before we reach the church in December, and the wording on the invitations was one of the things I was fretting about. Then you came up with the perfect answer! You are so clever – and so thoughtful, Sam.
I am the luckiest girl in the whole world to know that you are always going to be at my side.
My love for ever,
Alice.
PS. Of course I want Betty to bake the cake!
PPS. Tomorrow I am off to see Gloria and Don in Totterdown. They do not know about “us” yet – and I know they will be thrilled for me.
A
The following day, Alice found herself once more on the train which would take her to Bristol. During the week, she’d telephoned Gloria to confirm that it was still all right for her to visit them and to stay overnight.
‘Of course it is, Alice!’ the older woman had exclaimed. ‘Me and Don are really looking forward to seeing you – and to hear all your news. And I can guess what you’re going to tell us! You’re going to become managing director of that firm! I told Don – that girl is destined for great things!’
Alice had smiled. Gloria had always been very proud – and very impressed – by Alice’s appointment in the Dorchester office, and when Alice had mentioned in her earlier phone call that she had some news, Gloria had obviously thought it was more promotion.
At 3 o’clock, the train arrived at Temple Meads and Alice hurried from the platform. It was not a long walk to Totterdown, but she decided that today she would take a taxi rather than wait for the bus. And when the car pulled up in front of the familiar brown door of Gloria’s house, Alice remembered the very first time she’d walked up the path and had rung the bell.
It had been to find accommodation for herself after leaving the Carmichaels’ house in Clifton… her very first footprint into the outer world without anyone else’s support. Deciding that, with her newly acquired secretarial credentials, she should stand on her own feet and find somewhere else to live. And it had been Lady Luck, once again, who had made sure that she’d find the perfect home for the next eighteen months or so, until the war sent her away to work on a farm. Because Gloria Hammond had been a wonderful, kind, landlady, taking Alice to her heart from the very first, and often saying that Alice was the daughter she had never had. During the worst of the air raids the two had spent many nights together, sheltering in the cupboard under the stairs, and quite often Gloria’s next-door neighbour, Dora, had joined them, assuring them that her tea-leaf readings had sent her a message…no harm would come to them while they were there together under Gloria’s stairs. Other houses might be damaged, Gloria’s would not. And Dora had been right. Not even a pane of glass had ever caught it in Gloria’s house.
It had also been Dora who, one day, had “seen” a wedding ring in Gloria’s tea leaves during one of the many readings which had taken place around Gloria’s dining room table. And Dora had been right then, too. Because a year before the end of the war, Gloria had become very friendly with her insurance man, and in September 1945 the two had got married at Holy Nativity Church up the road, Gloria emerging into the sunlight as Mrs. Donald Travers.
And now Mrs. Donald Travers was expecting her first step-grandchild, her cup of happiness brimming full to the top.
Alice smiled as she rang the bell. Many words were going to be spoken during the next few hours…
Almost immediately the door opened and they were both there in the hall, waiting to greet her. Gloria was short – a little plumper than she’d been when Alice had first met her – but Gloria’s long, fair-grey hair was still tied in two bunches with red ribbons, her shrewd blue eyes darting everywhere. She put her arms right around Alice’s neck, and hugged her tightly.
‘Oh Alice…how lovely to see you! Kettle’s on. I bet you’re dying for a cuppa!’
And Don moved forward and hugged Alice as well, drawing her inside and taking her overnight bag from her.
The little house was much as it had always been…cosy, comfortable, slightly worn in places but then, so was everyone else’s. These days, where could you find anything new to buy to cheer the place up a bit?
Don took Alice’s overnight bag upstairs to the second bedroom – the room which had always been hers, and presently the three sat around the table sipping their tea. Alice deliberately kept her left hand out of sight because she wanted to hear their news first – and because she wanted to leave her own until the last. To keep her secret for just a little bit longer, to savour it.
Gloria couldn’t get her words out fast enough.
‘We’ve had such a lovely time with Don’s…with our family,’ she enthused. ‘Mary is such a lovely girl and made me feel so welcome.’ Gloria made a rueful face as she went on. ‘I told her that I realized she would have much preferred her own mum to be with her at this time, but Mary just hugged me and said she was grateful I was there, and grateful that her father had found happiness again with someone else. That now she could stop worrying about him. Wasn’t that nice?’ Gloria paused to drink from her cup. ‘Anyway, thank goodness, her morning sickness has died down a bit and I was able to prepare light meals for her, anything she might fancy, day or night. And of course Malcolm enjoyed a proper dinner that I cooked for him when he came home from work. So,’ Gloria shrugged. ‘So I think I was of some use to them both.’
Don leaned across and touched Gloria’s hand. ‘You know you were, my dear,’ he said fondly. ‘They were both very grateful. And I know they love you very much – as I do,’ he added.
Alice stared across at them for a moment, a small lump in her throat. It wasn’t only she who had a love story to tell…theirs was another one, plain for all to see, and at a much later stage of their lives. Gloria had always left Alice in no doubt that her first marriage – brought to an untimely end by the Great War – had been one made in heaven, her soldier husband a saint on earth, and that she never expected to marry again. Yet she had enough love left in her to share with another man – bereaved through deadly cancer – who she was able to cherish, to care for. And to become part of his family. (Rather like her own situation with the Carmichaels, Alice thought briefly.) Gloria had not been blessed with any children of her own, but she was soon to be blessed by becoming a step-grandmother. There was going to be a little person – perhaps, in the future, several little persons – to dote on, to spoil.
To love, and to spoil others, was what Gloria had always done.
‘Anyway,’ Gloria went on as she passed the plate of biscuits around, ‘once or twice Mary felt well enough for us to go looking in the shops for things – of course there wasn’t much for sale, it’s hopeless at the moment, isn’t it, but we did put our names down for a pram, which I insisted I wanted to pay for.’ Gloria smiled happily. ‘Well, that’s what mums do, don’t they, pay for the pram. Or the cot. And so do step-mums! The shop said that of course they weren’t sure when they’d have any deliveries, but they seemed hopeful. And surely by the time our baby’s due there should be something, even if it doesn’t turn out to be what we ordered,’ Gloria added.
Alice shrugged inwardly. It wasn’t only she who was hoping for the best…
Don spoke up. ‘By the time we left on Wednesday,’ he said, ‘my daughter’s house shone like a new pin, Alice. Gloria cleaned it from top to bottom, all the windows, inside and out, and did every last scrap of washing and ironing.’ He smiled. ‘I can’t think there’ll be anything for Mary to do for several weeks.’
‘That was my idea, Don,’ Gloria said. ‘And now she must take care of herself, and let the house go to blazes if necessary. And when the baby is born in October we’ll go back and I can help look after things, can’t I – at least for a few weeks. Just to get them started. And be allowed to nurse the baby!’ She folded her arms and hugged them to her. ‘What an exciting year we’re having, Alice!’
Gloria t
ook another drink from her cup and turned to Alice. ‘Now then – you’ve heard all about us, my dear. Let’s hear your news! Come on – and don’t be modest! We know what this is all about!’
‘Oh – it’s nothing, really,’ Alice said, wiping a crumb from her mouth. She lifted her left hand for them both to see. ‘But…it’s just this…’
Gloria leaned forward, her eyes shining. ‘Oh… Oh Alice…’ she whispered. ‘You’re engaged! Oh my dear, dear girl!’ She peered at the ring, narrowing her eyes. ‘And what a beautiful diamond!’ Then she looked up. ‘Now – who is the lucky, lucky man? Is he someone you met during the war and haven’t told us about? And…is the wedding going to be soon?’ Gloria paused for breath. ‘I hope it’s not in October because we shan’t be around…tell me it’s not in October, Alice!’
Now, Don lifted Alice’s hand to gaze at the ring. ‘This is a very beautiful ring, Alice,’ he said quietly. Then he looked up at her, smiling. ‘Gloria and I have been talking about you since you rang the other day, and we were both positive that you were moving on to greater things in your career.’ He shrugged. ‘How wrong we were – and how glad I am for you, Alice.’ He paused. ‘Tell us about him…what’s his name, and have you known him long?’
Now it was Alice’s turn to tell all. And she did, leaving nothing out about her deepest feelings about Sam.
Then came all the relevant, practical, questions from Gloria, and, once again, Alice felt the familiar wave of anxiety run through her. Apart from her persistent, underlying concerns about things which she and Sam hadn’t yet discussed, there was still so much to try and work out concerning her big day.
‘So, it’s to be at St. Mary Redcliffe on the 23rd December,’ Gloria said. ‘Well, that’s good, because we’re sure to be home by then.’ She giggled. ‘I assume we’re invited, Alice – well I hope we are! And anyway, if we’re not, we’ll be there at the back, don’t you worry, singing all the hymns and wishing you and Samuel a wonderful life together – won’t we, Don?’