Jeremy asked Melrose to be his best man. “Somebody has to be able to sign the registry.”
The sisters offered their sanctuary for the ceremony. The invited guests were crammed together, but nobody seemed to mind. Shirley McHattie was seated near the back, holding her infant son close to her chest. Mrs. McHattie had declined to come. Daisy was pleased to recognize Inspector Tyler among the guests. He was next to Dr. Beck. Both had beamed at her as she went to take her place at the altar. She thought the inspector might even have winked.
The ceremony was performed by the Reverend Jervis. A bespectacled, rotund, and rather unprepossessing man, he nevertheless conducted the service in a sincere, unhurried way. His voice was resonant.
“Does anyone here present know of any reason or just impediment why this couple may not be joined together in holy marriage, let you now declare it or forever hold your peace.”
Nobody did.
Everybody who could had donated their sugar rations, and Mrs. Fuller had baked a cake that was big enough to ensure everybody had a slice, albeit a tiny one.
Daisy had been intending to wear her WREN uniform, but Constable Mortimer took her aside and told her that she could have the loan of the Mortimer family wedding gown if she so wished. Apparently, her mother was only too happy to lend it to deserving but impoverished young women who were in one of the services.
“My mother is shorter than I am,” said Agnes Mortimer with a shy smile. “I don’t think it will have to be much altered.”
The wedding gown turned out to be a beautiful full-length dress of white organdie lace over taffeta.
Jeremy whispered to her afterwards that the taffeta swishing around her body was one of the most sublime sounds he’d ever heard.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. St. Anne’s Convalescent Hospital is a figment of my imagination, as are the people who inhabit it. However, the town of Ludlow is real and has been for centuries. The events that are described in the letters that Tyler receives really happened, and I have rendered them as faithfully as I could. If in this small way I have created interest in that tragic event, I am glad. We must never forget.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I am always grateful for the enthusiastic help I received from my friends Enid, Pam, and Jessie, who are always on the lookout for books or articles that might be useful. Thanks to Cath Jones, who accompanied me through the streets of Ludlow so I could get my timings right.
I am especially grateful to my publishers at McClelland & Stewart for supporting me on this journey and most especially to my amazing editor, Lara Hinchberger. I so often feel like the White Queen to her Alice. She tidies me up and the next minute I’m a mess again. What patience.
No Known Grave Page 29
