It's Now or Never

by June Francis

  ‘What’s difficult about it?’ said Roberta. ‘I just have to throw everything in the saucepan and let them simmer.’

  ‘Not quite that simple. You’ll have to put the meat in first and simmer that for about an hour. It’s a cheap cut, so will be tough if you don’t. Then add more water and your chopped vegetables, as well as salt, pepper and some dried herbs.’

  ‘Do I add Oxo?’

  ‘It’s not necessary but you can if you want.’

  ‘I thought I’d take her for a walk in the park after we’ve seen the wedding. It’s not that far away from the church,’ said Roberta.

  ‘As long as you make sure Nan has her walking stick and doesn’t get too tired,’ said Lynne, pushing a paper bag across the table. ‘There’s two cream cookies in there for you and Nan.’

  Roberta flushed with pleasure. ‘Thanks, Mum, you shouldn’t have but I appreciate the treat.’ She paused. ‘I was thinking as soon as I’m fourteen, I’ll get a Saturday job to help out with expenses.’

  Lynne smiled. ‘That’s a good idea but you’ve ten months to go before then, so stop worrying. Now I’d better put the finishing touches to the hat I’m going to wear.’

  Lynne was feeling a little shy as she entered the church, knowing that she would know few people there. Then she saw Sam, handing out books and directing people to pews and realized he must be one of the ushers. Suddenly he noticed her and she felt a rush of pleasure as those treacle-toffee eyes took her in. She wondered what he thought of her outfit. On her curling shiny auburn hair she was wearing a wide-brimmed hat trimmed with cream artificial roses and her trim figure was clad in a lace and satin straw-coloured Edwardian-style full-length gown with a fluted hem. On her small feet she wore a gleaming pair of cream crossbar shoes. Fortunately she had remembered to leave off the spectacles her daughter did not approve of.

  ‘Can this really be Mrs Donegan, the dressmaker?’ he asked in a jokey voice.

  She told herself to be sensible. He probably smiled at everyone with such charm and besides, he was already spoken for. ‘Yes, it’s me,’ she said awkwardly. ‘How nice to see you again, Mr Walker.’

  ‘Call me Sam,’ he said, shaking her hand before handing her a prayer book and hymnal. ‘You’ll be with our lot and that’s this side,’ he indicated.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Hester told me she’d invited you. You’ve made a great job of her wedding dress and you look very nice, too. Did you make that outfit yourself?’

  ‘Yes. I don’t get the opportunity to dress up often, so I’m hoping I haven’t gone over the top,’ she said in a rush.

  ‘You know who you remind me of in that outfit?’ said Sam. ‘The Queen Mother when she was young.’

  ‘If I do, then I’ve made a big mistake,’ said Lynne ruefully. ‘She was only a small girl during the Edwardian era when this style was fashionable.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’d make a mistake,’ he said easily. ‘It must be me. Anyway, don’t fashions come and go? I mean not everybody stops wearing a favourite suit or dress because the fashion pundits dictate change.’

  Lynne smiled. ‘You’re right! I’m sure there were plenty of women who carried on with this style during the Great War and its aftermath. The Queen Mother would have been nineteen in 1919.’

  ‘I’ve seen her several times,’ said Sam. ‘The first time was during the thirties after the abdication when she and the King came to Liverpool before his coronation.’

  ‘I remember that,’ said Lynne. ‘Everyone was cheering and waving flags because they admired them so much.’

  ‘That was because the country felt let down when Edward abdicated,’ said Sam. ‘I admire people who do their duty by others. Next time I saw them was when I was a policeman on the beat and they came here for the Grand National.’

  ‘Your job must be really exciting,’ said Lynne.

  He smiled. ‘It has its moments but sometimes it can be as dull as ditchwater. Paperwork and the like.’

  ‘I see what you mean.’ She became aware that there were a couple of people waiting to talk to him. ‘I’d best go and sit down,’ she whispered, and made to walk away.

  He took her arm and glanced down the nave. ‘Can’t have you sitting on your own.’ And he walked her right down the aisle.

  ‘I could have sat at the back,’ she whispered.

  ‘There’ll still be room in the front pews for a small one, so stop worrying. You’ll get a better view of your handiwork from there.’

  She gave up arguing with him, not sure whether she felt embarrassed or flattered that he should be determined to take care of her. As they reached the two front pews, she noticed Dorothy looking slightly bored, sitting next to an old lady.

  ‘Dot, can you look after Mrs Donegan?’ he asked.

  Dorothy’s head shot up and she stared at Sam and Lynne.

  There was such an expression on her face that Lynne said, ‘I’ll sit somewhere else.’

  ‘That sounds sensible to me,’ said Dorothy, her fingers curling on the handbag in her lap. ‘You’re forgetting, Sam, that your dad and Grace, as well as Beryl, will have to squeeze in here.’

  ‘I hadn’t forgotten them,’ said Sam. ‘Shove up, Dot! She’s not going to take up much space and Grace will be in her wheelchair.’

  Dot’s mouth set in a stubborn line. ‘What about you? You won’t be at the back for the whole of the service.’

  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ said Lynne, her cheeks rosy. ‘I’m only the dressmaker and I’ve seen Hester’s wedding gown from all angles already.’

  ‘You heard her, Sam,’ said Dorothy. ‘She’s only the dressmaker! You’re embarrassing the poor woman.’

  ‘Am I embarrassing you, Lynne?’ asked Sam.

  Lynne did not like being called the poor woman. There was no way that she’d feel comfortable sitting next to Dorothy and was tempted to tell Sam that but she did not like agreeing with Dorothy, so said, ‘I know you’re being kind but it is probably best I sit further back.’

  He gave in. ‘If that’s what makes you happy, then I’ll find you a seat a bit further back.’

  She thanked him and with a short nod in Dorothy’s direction, followed him to a pew two rows behind the family one. She wasted no time unhooking a hassock and kneeling on it. She lowered her head and clasped her hands and remained in an attitude of prayer, thinking of the scene that had just been played out. Why did Dorothy Wilson not like her? Lynne sensed it didn’t have anything to do with her being only the dressmaker. There had been real dismay in her eyes when she had caught sight of Lynne with Sam. She remembered the way Dorothy had reacted when they had set eyes on each other in the hotel.

  Of course, it could be that she resented Sam taking notice of any other woman. Lynne knew only too well how insecure some actresses felt but somehow she doubted Dorothy felt insecure. Of course, she was not as young as some of the British actresses on the scene these days and she could see the likes of Diana Dors as a real threat to Dorothy becoming a big star.

  What am I doing thinking like that? I’m no threat to her acting career. It had to be that she didn’t like Sam taking notice of any other woman.

  Lynne remained on her knees until the organist launched into the music she always thought of as ‘Here Comes the Bride’. She rose to her feet, as did the rest of the congregation, and caught a glimpse of Sam’s profile and then that of Dorothy as she glanced round. Lynne received a sudden shock because, in a flash, that look of exasperation on the actress’s face reminded her of someone she had come across years ago. Thirteen years and three months to be precise. Why had she only just recognized her? Then she remembered that she had thought Dorothy looked familiar. If the actress’s behaviour was anything to go by, then it was obvious that Dorothy had immediately recognized Lynne.

  Such thoughts were banished momentarily as Hester swept past on her father’s arm in a cloud of ivory satin and veiling. Lynne was aware of the bouquet’s spicy scent of pinks and carnations and the heady perfum
e of roses. Then came Jeanette, looking almost as lovely as the bride.

  ‘Dearly beloved …’ the vicar began.

  Lynne had difficulty concentrating on the age-old words of the marriage service at first because she could not stop thinking of the younger Dorothy and Lynne and their babies in that home in the Cheshire countryside. Then she pulled herself together and forced herself to listen. Her throat tightened with emotion as she heard the bride and the groom exchange their vows to love and cherish each other, through sickness and health, for better, for worse, as long as they both should live. She found herself regretting deeply that she and Robert had never had the opportunity to speak those words. It would have been a memory to cherish forever.

  What of Dorothy? What memories did she hold dear? What regrets did she have? Did Sam know of her past? Of course he didn’t! And that was why she wanted to keep Lynne at a distance.

  Suddenly she felt a need to get out of the church and half-rose in her seat, only to instantly sit down again. What was she thinking, drawing attention to herself? As it was Sam glanced over his shoulder and their eyes met. Her heart began to thud and swiftly she lowered her gaze and stared fixedly at the page where it was open at the next hymn: ‘Love Divine, All Loves Excelling’.

  She decided to leave as soon as the service was over rather than face Dorothy. She would need an excuse. It would be bad mannered just to vanish. Perhaps she could say she wasn’t feeling well? Then it struck her that she didn’t need to run away. She could just ignore Dorothy. Lynne had to admire the other woman. She had wanted to get on with her life and she seemed to have achieved what she had set out to do if she had wanted to be an actress. As for herself, she had succeeded in her aim to bring up her daughter herself and so could hold her head up high.

  It was on the way out of the church that she collided with Emma. ‘Are you all right?’ Lynne put out a hand to steady the pregnant woman.

  Emma pulled a face. ‘Sorry about that. I’m getting so big now that I’m always bumping into people. I don’t seem able to judge the distance between me and them, not to mention furniture and doorways.’

  Lynne smiled. ‘I can understand how you feel. Are you keeping well?’

  Emma sighed. ‘Fine but I’ll be glad when it’s over and I can hold my baby and see that everything’s all right with it.’ She changed the subject. ‘You’ve made a lovely job of Hester’s wedding gown and what you’re wearing is lovely, too. When you think of Teddy Boys, their style is based on Edwardian male fashion, too. You could start a trend in women’s fashion. You’re really good at what you do, aren’t you?’ She babbled on. ‘What about smocking and yokes? I didn’t get much of a chance to finish our conversation at Betty’s flat. D’you think you could make me a couple of maternity smocks in a pretty cotton material, as well as a couple of skirts? I’m fed up of wearing the same two outfits I have at the moment.’

  Lynne’s eyes lit up. ‘It would be a pleasure. You’ll want them pretty soon, I’d imagine?’

  ‘Too right! Would you mind coming to my house for fittings and the like? You can charge me for travelling expenses.’

  ‘No trouble. If you’ll give me your address.’

  Emma did so and they agreed on a date. Jared joined them and after being introduced to him and exchanging a few pleasantries, Lynne excused herself. She had remembered Nan and Roberta were supposed to be coming to watch the wedding and wanted a word with them. She looked towards where a crowd of well-wishers was milling about on the outskirts of the church grounds and spotted them. She began to make her way through the chattering wedding guests, only to suddenly be seized by the arm.

  ‘I’d like to talk to you, Mrs Donegan,’ said Dorothy.

  Lynne did not like the tone of her voice. ‘I can’t think what you and I have to say to each other, Miss Wilson. For some reason you’ve taken against me. Now if you’d let go of my arm? I want to have a word with my daughter and grandmother.’

  Dorothy released Lynne’s arm. ‘They’re here?’

  ‘Yes! Now if you’ll excuse me.’ She hurried over to where Nan and Roberta were standing, glad to get away from Dorothy, although it might have been interesting to hear what she had to say.

  ‘Hester looks lovely,’ said Roberta, her eyes shining.

  Nan nodded her agreement. ‘Who was that glamour puss you were talking to a few moments ago?’

  ‘That’s Dorothy Wilson, Nan,’ said Roberta. ‘Did she admire your outfit, Mum?’

  ‘You know what? She didn’t,’ said Lynne, smiling. ‘I caught sight of you two and excused myself.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have minded a chat with her. What with us both having worked in the theatre,’ said Nan. ‘Anyway, you’d better not linger with us, love. You’ll be needed for the group photograph. Don’t forget to ask if you can have a copy of one of the bride and bridesmaid when they’re developed, so you can put them on display for your next lot of customers!’

  Lynne nodded and walked away, only to have her arm seized again but this time it was Sam who wanted to speak to her.

  ‘Come on, Lynne Donegan, it’s photo time,’ he said, smiling down at her.

  He wasted no time, ushering her into position next to Emma and Jared. As Lynne posed, she saw Dorothy talking to Sam and swallowed a sigh. But whatever she was saying it caused him to give a shrug before moving away and taking up a position the other side of a woman in a wheelchair. Lynne would have given a gold guinea to have heard his and Dorothy’s conversation.

  As soon as the photographer had finished, Emma asked if Lynne would like a lift to the Tudor Rooms where the wedding reception was to take place. She thanked her and found herself sharing the rear passenger seat with an elderly Welsh woman, Myra Jones. She also admired Lynne’s gown and they chatted comfortably. Lynne discovered that Myra lived in the village where Hester and Ally were to make their home. She suggested that Lynne should visit the area during the summer months. Lynne replied that she would try but if she was honest would have said that she could not possibly afford to do so unless she were to manage to find some more customers.

  On their arrival at the Tudor Rooms, Lynne took the opportunity to congratulate the newly-weds but as there was a line of guests queuing up behind her she did not linger. She helped herself to a glass of sherry and looked about her for somewhere to sit. She was aware that Dorothy was talking to the woman in the wheelchair and noticed Hester’s father and Sam join them.

  Lynne felt a little out of things and so was pleased when a voice said, ‘You’re Lynne Donegan, the dressmaker, I believe!’

  Lynne smiled at the pleasant-faced woman of a similar age to herself. ‘I am! Who are you?’

  ‘I’m Hester’s friend Wendy,’ she replied, sitting on the chair next to Lynne. ‘We were in the police force together until I married. She ordered me to make friends with you when she saw you sitting all alone.’

  ‘That’s good of her – and you, as well,’ added Lynne hastily. ‘But I’m fine, honestly! I enjoy watching people.’

  ‘Me too!’ said Wendy, smiling. ‘Were you watching anyone in particular?’

  ‘The woman in the wheelchair. D’you know who she is?’

  ‘Yes, that’s Hester and Sam’s stepmother, Grace. She went missing during the Blitz. It was only a few months ago that her daughter, Jeanette, managed to trace her.’

  ‘Why was that?’ asked Lynne.

  ‘It’s complicated but she was caught in an explosion and lost her memory for a short while and what with her ending up in a wheelchair she didn’t want to be a burden on the family,’ said Wendy. ‘I wager that’s why Sam’s girlfriend is giving her so much attention.’

  ‘Why d’you say that?’ asked Lynne, sipping her sherry.

  ‘Grace Walker’s story would make a good film.’

  ‘I thought you’d have to be famous to have a film made of your life?’

  Wendy shrugged. ‘It could be fictionalized. I can’t see any other reason why Dorothy should want to spend time with Grace. Doroth
y likes to be the centre of attention. In my opinion she’s someone who puts her own needs first. She doesn’t think about Sam’s.’

  ‘You know Sam well?’ asked Lynne.

  ‘He’s a damn good detective and cares about people. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was to make inspector this year. He’s also a great dancer.’ Wendy looked pensive. ‘If our actress is not careful, she could lose him. A woman spending time away from a man like Sam who wants to settle down and have a family is just asking to be dropped.’

  ‘Surely she must realize that?’ said Lynne, startled by how bitchy Wendy was towards Dorothy.

  ‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? They’ve known each other for years, you know? She was the best friend of the first girl he loved but Carol was killed in the Blitz.’

  ‘How sad!’

  ‘Yes, it was. Anyway, he and Dorothy didn’t see each other for years and then she came to Liverpool to appear in a play.’

  ‘I suppose they fell in love,’ said Lynne.

  Wendy took a sip of her sherry. ‘Are they in love? Besides, you need more than just being in love to make a marriage stick.’ She paused. ‘You lost your husband in the war, I believe?’

  ‘Yes. Robert’s ship was sunk with all hands lost.’

  ‘War’s a terrible thing,’ murmured Wendy.

  They both fell silent. Fortunately the call went out for guests to take their seats at the table and Lynne could escape.

  She was pleased to find Myra seated on her left and a policeman friend of Hester’s on the right. It turned out that he was a bit of a talker, so she did not need to say much, only phrases such as Is that so? Fancy that! and Isn’t that dangerous? By the time he stopped talking, Lynne had finished her soup, and had the chance to look about her.

  Instantly she became aware that Dorothy was watching her. Lynne allowed her gaze to drift past her and then turned to Myra and began a conversation with her about Whalley. Even as she listened, Lynne wondered how long Dorothy had been watching her. Surely Dorothy must realize that it was in both their interests for them to bury the past?