by Rosie James
The whole country – and apparently much of the world – was glued to the wireless as the details of the great occasion were transmitted, the bride’s dress – for which she had apparently had to use her coupons – being described as being of duchess satin and embroidered with stars and lilies and pearls and orange blossom.
It had been decided between them that Valerie should come over to Alice’s house and they’d listen to the wireless together. Well that would be more fun, especially with Alice’s own wedding now so close. And now, as she tried to imagine what she would be feeling like in just over a month’s time, Alice’s mouth dried slightly. Thank heavens there would not be two thousand guests at theirs, nor millions of people lining the streets to watch her enter the church, or come out again for everyone to stare at. And neither would the whole country rejoice, as they were rejoicing now…the shouting and cheering almost drowning out the incessant pealing of the bells.
‘I know the weather’s ’orrible,’ Valerie said, tucking into the plate of Nice biscuits on the dining room table, ‘but it doesn’t seem to matter, does it? I mean, for one thing a public holiday always puts everyone in a good mood…but have you noticed how cheerful everyone’s been for the last few days? All the shops have got bunting out, and there are tea parties going on all over the place. It’s as if it’s a family occasion, not just a royal one, isn’t it.’ She giggled. ‘Have you seen the butcher’s shop? He’s put little red white and blue flags on all the meat, marking out royal sausages, royal pork chops, royal tripe, royal bacon…’
Alice smiled as she poured out more coffee into their cups. ‘There has definitely been a special atmosphere around, which we haven’t seen since the end of the war,’ she said. ‘Do you remember how mad it was then – I mean mad in a happy way – no one could stop smiling, and complete strangers became friends at a second’s notice and it was all so…lovely…so uniting. Everyone sharing the same joy, and that’s how it feels today, doesn’t it? Elizabeth and Philip are obviously so in love and it does seem a perfect match – a match made in heaven,’ she added.
Valerie reached over and squeezed Alice’s hand. ‘And that’s how yours is going to be,’ she said firmly. ‘From all I know about you, and from everything you’ve told me about Sam – you two are absolutely, perfectly, outstandingly perfect for each other. Nothing can go wrong for you two, nothing! I feel it in my bones!’
Alice laughed lightly at Valerie’s exuberance, but what she wanted to say was – stop, Valerie, stop…how can you know, how can anyone know, what a perfect match is? Today’s wonderful occasion for the royal couple is just the start. Now they’ve got to make it work. For ever. And are they really right for each other? Are Sam and I really right for each other? Because, come what may, there’s no going back – and the thought frightens me. I am frightened…
Chapter Thirteen
Fay got off the bus, and made her way slowly along the familiar road towards No. 30. She’d called in during the week to tell them she’d be coming to see them – for a proper chat this time. Her regular “drop-ins” didn’t usually allow time for them to really catch up. They were expecting her for tea – and it being Saturday, she was meeting friends in town later for a drink.
Her mum and gran must have been watching from the window, because the door was opened almost as soon as she rang the bell. Then all three held each other in a bear-hug before Fay’s mother led the way into the dining room. The table was properly laid, the cutlery and crockery in place, the white, damask cloth freshly laundered.
‘We’ve got mushrooms on toast for tea,’ Mrs. Reynolds said, ‘because we know how much you love that, Fay. And Gran’s done all the cooking…I hardly do a thing these days! She’s made some cheese tartlets and drop scones…and Oh yes…her famous little butterfly cakes, as well. I hope you’re hungry!’
‘I’m usually hungry, Mum – and all this looks lovely.’ Fay glanced down at the table, smiling briefly. Whatever the circumstances – either lack of much money, or food rationing, no one had ever left her grandmother’s table hungry.
When Fay had been fourteen, she’d left the family home and had gone to live with her grandmother in Knowle West…at a time when she’d been old enough to make up her own mind about what she did and didn’t want. And her grandmother’s wonderful way with food had been only one of the many joys of leaving home. Then, when Fay had been twenty-three, the war had sent her off to work on a farm, during which time her father had died. And her mother and grandmother – the two Mrs. Reynoldses – were now living here in Brislington. Very happily, it seemed.
After making the usual enquiries as to each other’s present state of health, and how the weather was turning nasty but hadn’t they been lucky with the lovely summer and autumn, the three women took their places at the table to enjoy the warm mushrooms. – a family favourite. Presently, Fay’s mother passed around their cups of strong tea, looking into the far distance for a moment.
‘Your dad’s been gone three years, now, Fay…that time has flown by, hasn’t it?’ Mrs. Reynolds put her cup to her lips, but before drinking, she went on – ‘It was so…so…lovely that you were able to get away, and be here to see him and have that nice talk together, wasn’t it?’ Mrs. Reynolds took one or two sips before adding – ‘That was only a couple of weeks before he went, wasn’t it…and d’you know, dear, I really believe that was meant. You were meant to come and have some time with your dad before it was too late.’ She smiled a trifle wearily. ‘I know you two didn’t always see eye to eye, but he did love you very much, Fay. Remember that, dear, won’t you? Look how he used to spend all that time with you in your bedroom, reading you stories, doing puzzles with you. And he always insisted on tucking you up last thing, didn’t he…sometimes I thought he was never going to come back downstairs!’
Fay couldn’t bring herself to speak for a moment – everything her mother had just said had dried her tongue to the roof of her mouth so that she thought she was going to choke. Those words had rekindled the flame of hatred that still burned deep inside Fay, the flame which refused to die however much she tried to damp it down.
With her hands trembling slightly, she leaned across to take a scone from the plate, and her grandmother said –
‘You’re looking ever so well, our Fay, you really are. Mind, not quite so well as when you were down on that farm – I reckon you put on a stone or two during the war!’
Fay found her voice at last. ‘I think you’re probably right, Gran – but I can assure you that Mrs. Foulkes’s catering was no better than yours has always been…it’s just that there was so much food available all the time. We were never short of eggs, and goat and pork – and vegetables, of course.’ Fay bit into her scone before going on. ‘Still, that all seems a long time ago now, though to be honest, I’d far rather work on a farm than at the bloomin’ Council House! Sometimes I’m so bored I feel like jumping out of the window!’
‘Oh, don’t go doing that, our Fay!’ Gran exclaimed. ‘Count up to ten or something first. Nothing can be so bad that anyone would want to jump out the window. Just think how it would hurt when you hit the deck!’
But I did want to, so many times, I tried once, and I wouldn’t have minded how much it hurt because it couldn’t be as horrid and disgusting and painful as what I was going through…
‘More tea, dear? There’s plenty in the pot.’ The words softened the anguish in Fay’s heart and she looked at her mother quickly.
‘Thanks, Mum – yes…just top mine up, will you?’ She sat back slightly and looked across at the others. ‘Now then – don’t you want to hear the latest about the wedding of the century?’ she said.
‘Tell us everything,’ Fay’s mother said firmly. ‘And have you all managed to get the shoes yet?’
Fay nodded. ‘Yes – we met up together last time Alice was in Bristol, and actually found the ones we were looking for – and all three sizes were in stock. We couldn’t believe our luck.’
‘I know you’ve
described the dresses, Fay,’ her mother said, in a slightly hurt tone, ‘but I’d love to see them – well, see yours. See you in it before the day.’
Fay shook her head. ‘Sorry – all of them are being kept – very safely – at Evie’s house. Well, we discussed it and it seemed the sensible thing to do. I mean, there’d be no point Alice taking hers to Dorchester, would there, just to bring it back again, or me taking mine to Bedminster, either…so the plan is this. The day before the wedding, Eve’s parents are driving over to bring everything from Bath – including Evie, naturally – and going straight to Totterdown. I shall drive over from Miss Downs’s place in the car, and then the three of us will be spending the night with Mr. and Mrs. Travers, so that we can all get ready together on the morning. I told you that Mr. Travers is giving Alice away, so that’s going to work out very well, I think. The other bridesmaids – Alice’s soon-to-be sisters-in-law – will be leaving from the Clifton house and joining us at the church at the appointed hour.’ Fay made a funny face. ‘I hope nothing goes wrong…there’s been so much to think about.’
‘Well, that’s weddings, isn’t it?’ Fay’s mother said. Gran cut in –
‘It’s likely to be very cold, though, isn’t it,’ she said. ‘A wedding right up against Christmas seems a funny idea to me.’ She pursed her lips. ‘I hope you’ve all got something warm to wear over those dresses – at least until you walk up the aisle.’
Fay helped herself to a butterfly cake, relieved to be talking…thinking…of pleasant matters. ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ she said, ‘Mrs. Miles has made us all – including the other two – stoles with fur edging. Can you believe it! She’s just dug out more of all this lovely stuff that she’s apparently been keeping back for years and years. And she won’t let Alice pay a thing for any of it!’
They went on eating, and Fay’s mother said, ‘Well, whether it’s cold or not, your Gran and I will be there to see everything – all weddings are exciting, especially when the bridal party consists of people you know. Or know about. We’ll be there at the back, taking it all in.’
Although Fay’s mother knew a lot about Alice and Eve, she had never met them, but Gran had, because they had called in at her house in Knowle West once or twice when Roger had dropped Fay off. It had been when the girls were having one of their weekends home.
‘Alice is lovely,’ Fay’s gran said, ‘and she is going to make a beautiful bride. And that Eve – you always call her Evie, don’t you – she is a nice girl too.’ Gran sat back, folding her arms. ‘So, what with our Fay there as well, it’s going to be a beauty contest if you ask me!’
It was 8.30 before Fay stood up to go. ‘I said I’d meet some friends outside the Hippodrome at nine,’ she said, going into the hall to fetch her coat. ‘We’re just going out for a few drinks.’
Her mother opened the door – and drew back in startled amazement. ‘It’s been snowing!’ she exclaimed. ‘Look – it’s beginning to settle!’ She turned to Fay. ‘Are you sure you should go into town, dear? What about getting home later?’ She peered outside again. ‘You didn’t bring your car, did you?’
‘No – I’m saving as many coupons as I can, so I came by bus,’ Fay said. She went outside and stared around. ‘It probably won’t be too bad…the flakes aren’t that big, are they?’ She shook her head. ‘What a crazy year this has been…we’ve been nearly frozen to death, drowned, blown away – and half- roasted alive. Not to mention that thunderstorm in July! And now we’ve got snow that no one told us about. The weather is going completely mad.’
Her mother tutted. ‘Well…if the snow gets really bad and the buses aren’t running, you could walk back here later and stay the night with us, couldn’t you?’ she said. ‘Your room’s always here for you, Fay – Gran and I sleep together in the double bed, now, you see. Well, there’s no point having two lots of sheets to wash every week, is there,’ she added, ‘and it helps with our soap powder ration.’
Fay put on her coat and wound her scarf around her neck – and took the umbrella her mother was handing her. She was suddenly desperate to leave here, and to feel the clean, white snow on her cheeks, the fresh air in her lungs…
Then she was gone, her mother and grandmother waving at her from the lighted doorway.
With the umbrella giving her some protection, Fay set her face against the cold wind and began trudging towards town. The snow was actually deeper than she’d thought at first – which meant it had been coming down for some time. She glanced around her. There was no bus in sight, and one certainly hadn’t passed her. Well, what odds? It was usually quicker to walk, anyway, and Fay was a strong, intrepid strider. It would probably only take her half an hour to reach the Centre, and she knew her friends would wait for her.
Fay’s mind teemed with all her thoughts, recalling everything that had been said during the three hours she’d just spent with her mother and grandmother, and her eyes misted for a moment. They were doing all right together, those two – despite their individual loss of a husband, and a son. Fay could see that they were happy, content, sharing their lives…they certainly didn’t need her…
Which was just as well. Because nothing on God’s Earth would ever persuade Fay to spend even one night in that house. Never, never again…
Eve’s father picked up the clock on the dining room mantelpiece, wound it up fully, then glanced down at his wife. She had just finished reading the Evening Chronicle, and now she was filtering out the pages, twisting each one, over and over again, forming strong, curly bands. Then she put them in a neat pile in the grate. These would help the fire get going in the morning, and doing this was a little ritual she quite enjoyed.
‘It’s the last day of the month tomorrow,’ Frank Miles commented. ‘then the usual countdown to Christmas once again.’
Mrs. Miles got up from her chair, yawning politely. ‘Yes, but Christmas will not be the first thing on our minds this year, will it?’ she said. ‘We’ve got the wedding first, haven’t we? Alice’s wedding.’
Her husband knew exactly whose wedding it was. And he had not seen his wife so energized, so…so…fulfilled…since the days of their concerts. He had watched her – usually without her knowing – as she’d cut and stitched and snipped, always humming a little tune under her breath. And now the finished garments were all on hangers in one of the spare bedrooms, carefully protected by filmy covers. One white dress, two green.
There was little left of the fire, but he put the small guard against it, just in case. Then they went upstairs together, just as the big clock on the half-landing struck eleven. Eve had gone to bed long ago in her room at the end of the long landing.
The room where the dresses were hanging was the one just before theirs, and as they went by, Mrs. Miles stopped, turned the handle and went inside. She hadn’t looked at those garments for at least a week, and she had a sudden burning desire to see them again…to see them now.
Frank Miles didn’t even question it, he switched on the light and followed her in. And without saying a word, Ellen began to slip the covers off each dress, and just stood and stared at her handiwork.
‘I just needed to check something,’ she said, her tone whispered – as if they were in a sacramental presence – ‘but it’s all right…it’s fine.’ She looked up ‘I keep dreaming about it all the time… I keep dreaming that I haven’t set one of the bridesmaid’s sleeves in properly, or that the bride’s neckline is all over the place. But…’ she turned to gaze at the dresses again, ‘it’s all fine, fine. It’s all lovely,’ she added. She replaced all the covers, then hung the dresses up on the picture-rail again. ‘In less than a month, it will be all over,’ she said slowly.
Her husband looked down at her fondly. ‘Is it hurting you too badly, my dear?’ he said, glancing at the bride’s dress. ‘I am sure it must be…’
She didn’t ask him what he meant. She knew what he meant. She shook her head quickly.
‘No, it isn’t, Frank,’ she said, ‘I am happy – very ha
ppy – at the way things are turning out for Eve…for us.’ She looked up at him, and there was no hint of a tear in her eyes. ‘Because I am absolutely convinced that Max is the right man for our daughter…they are ideally suited, in my opinion. He is a good person, and you can see how he adores Eve – and how she adores him. Why should I feel even a second’s unhappiness that she won’t be getting married in church, or wearing a white dress? None of that is important when weighed against the really essential things in life.’
Ellen glanced at the bridal gown again – which in the subdued lighting looked almost ethereal, mysterious. ‘If Eve had chosen someone who had not been married before, but who she didn’t feel as strongly for as she so obviously does for Max – what satisfaction would I gain from that?’ she said. ‘And as long as he loves our daughter and is good to her…is loyal and caring…I would not ask for anything else.’ She looked up at her husband. ‘Would you, Frank?’
‘Of course not,’ Mr. Miles said. (He could never understand all the fuss about dressing up for weddings, anyway.) ‘It was just that…I thought you might be imagining Eve in that…that quite beautiful dress, Ellen. I thought you might feel just a little bit sad, that’s all.’
‘Stuff and nonsense,’ Ellen said firmly. ‘Alice is going to look wonderful – and it was her I had in mind when I was making it, not Eve.’ Ellen looked pensive for a second. ‘Poor Alice…her mother is no longer here to make her a dress, and no father here to give her away, either. So – I am…I am very, very pleased to help her out with anything I possibly can. And anyway, ‘Ellen went towards the door, ‘when it’s her day, I am going to make Eve something quite as lovely – it’s just that it won’t be white, that’s all.’
They got ready for bed, and Mrs. Miles sat at her dressing table, brushing out her hair. She glanced at her husband’s reflection through the mirror. He was thumping at his pillow, as usual, and she made a mental note to buy a couple of new ones if possible. These had been around for some time. ‘Do you know, Frank,’ she said, ‘I have a strange feeling – well, a premonition – that Eve and Max are going to repeat history one day…and in the not-too-distant future.’
