by Rosie Clarke
A few doors further along the High Street was the dress shop run by Mrs Henty. She was another close friend, and my partner in the dress shop. Trade had been brisk these past few months. I chose most of the stock myself in London and had it sent down to her by rail.
Sol didn’t make costumes or knitwear, but he had been able to advise me on the best places to buy at the keenest prices, and my own instinct for what would sell in a country town had proved reliable.
Mrs Henty was serving a customer with a pretty blouse when I went in. I amused myself by rocking James in his pushchair and glancing through the rails. Judging by how thin the stock was, my friend had been rushed off her feet.
‘I could do with a cup of tea,’ she exclaimed as the door shut behind her last customer. ‘I was going to telephone you, Emma. Everyone has been going crazy these past two weeks. I am sure they are all terrified the Government is going to ration clothes!’
‘They will before long. I’ll sort some more stock out for you, Madge.’
‘Yes, please do,’ she said. ‘We could probably double or treble our usual orders at the moment … for as long as the panic lasts anyway.’
I liked to keep the stock fresh, sending Madge a few of the most attractive new dresses from Sol’s rails at a time, but now I saw that it might be wise to build up our stock a little.’
‘I’ll send whatever I think you can sell,’ I promised as I followed her through to the back room and watched her put the kettle on. ‘Sol won’t mind if we owe him for a few weeks. So, how are you? Other than being busy?’
Madge laughed. ‘Very well, Emma. I’m comfortable here in my own little way – but tell me what you’ve been up to, my dear.’
‘I’m getting married next week.’
‘To that nice Mr Reece?’ I nodded and she looked pleased. ‘Well, I think that’s lovely. I like Mr Reece – he’s a real gentleman. So kind and gentle, and polite too. You will be settled at last, Emma.’
‘Yes, I’m sure I shall,’ I said. Jon was kind and gentle, and I loved him. ‘Do you think you could come up for the wedding? Or is it too difficult?’
‘I can get a girl to look after things here.’ Madge beamed at me. ‘Lily is a nice little thing, helps out sometimes on a Saturday when I’m busy. I can leave her in charge for once. I wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world!’
I stayed for nearly half an hour talking to Madge, then made my way back to my mother’s house. Sol would return in a little while, and I wanted a few minutes alone with Mum.
She had been baking when I went into the kitchen, her face flushed and smeared with flour.
‘I had some sugar put by,’ she told me as she brought a sponge cake from the oven. ‘You take this back with you, love.’
I went to kiss her cheek. ‘You needn’t worry about us, Mum. Honestly, we’re fine.’
‘London food isn’t worth the eating,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a box of fresh stuff for you to take back, so you won’t starve for a while.’
‘No, we shan’t starve.’ I smiled. She was convinced I had lost weight since I’d been living in London, which might have been true, but was due more to the fact that I was always busy than any shortage of decent food. We were still managing despite the recent rationing of butter, sugar, ham and bacon. ‘Thank you, Mum. We shall enjoy that sponge.’
‘I do worry about you, Emma, but you’ll be all right when you’re married to Jon. I trust him – he will look after you.’
‘I’m fine now. I don’t need looking after. Besides, Margaret and Sol are so good to me.’
‘Yes, I know.’ She sighed and reached out to touch my cheek. ‘It’s just that … well, I can’t forget how it was for you. I want you to be happy, love.’
‘I am happy, Mum. Very happy.’
She nodded, then reached into her apron pocket and brought out a letter. ‘This came for you last week,’ she said. ‘I opened it, Emma. I thought it might be important. It’s from a solicitor down in the west country … I wasn’t sure whether to give it to you. If I were you, I should just tear it up.’
‘Mum?’ I stared at her, seeing the unease in her eyes. ‘Why? What does this solicitor want? Why are you frightened?’
‘I’m not exactly frightened, Emma. I just feel it might be best to let things stay as they are.’
I took the letter out, made curious by her attitude. It was from a firm of solicitors that I had never heard of before. They had been contacted by a relative of the late Harold Robinson … someone wished to know if he had an heir. Apparently, they had seen a notice of his death and now wished to trace any family.’
‘They’ve heard he left money,’ my mother said. ‘Depend on it, Emma. They’re scroungers, out for what they can get.’
‘You don’t know that,’ I said, laughing at her expression. ‘Aren’t you curious about them?’ I turned the page, looking for more information. ‘The solicitor says he believes I may be the person he is looking for, and will I reply at my earliest convenience.’
‘Tell him you don’t want to see them, whoever they are,’ my mother said. ‘Your father didn’t want to know his family. In all the years we were married, they never tried to contact us. Why should you bother with them now?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps I shan’t.’ I slipped the letter into my pocket. ‘I’ll send this to our lawyers, Mum, let them find out what it’s all about. Don’t worry, I shan’t get taken in by someone who wants money.’
‘Well, just be careful, Emma.’
‘How is Bert?’ I asked, changing the subject. ‘You said he had a nasty cold when you last wrote.’
‘He’s better now. We’re both fine, Emma. Happy …’ She bent down and took James from his pushchair as he held out his arms to her, kissing his cheeks. ‘I miss you and this little fellow – but I wouldn’t change my life. Bert is the man I should have married years ago. If I had how different our lives might have been …’
‘Don’t look back, Mum,’ I said, squeezing her waist with gentle affection. ‘I’ve made up my mind I won’t, not ever. I’m not going to waste time in regrets. Life is what you make it, and I intend to make the most of mine.’
‘Yes, you must,’ she said. ‘But you will, I know that. We all underestimated you when you were a girl, all tried to take care of you – but you’re in charge now, aren’t you? You look so different, Emma – such a smart woman, a townie … not a country mouse any more. Sometimes I hardly recognize you in your posh frock!’
‘But I’m still me underneath,’ I said, and reached out to take James from her as he started to grizzle. ‘I think that’s Sol coming back now. We shall have to go in a few minutes, Mum. We don’t want to be too late back. Sol never says anything, but I know he worries about Margaret.’
‘It was good of him to bring you down,’ she said. ‘A man like that … I can’t help wondering why he’s taken to you the way he has …’ She frowned. ‘I mean, what does he get out of it?’
‘Mum! Why should he want anything?’ I said. ‘I’ve told you. I trust Sol. He and Margaret are good people. Now, please, stop worrying about me and let him in …’
Chapter Two
I had been eagerly anticipating Jon’s arrival, but it was a bitterly cold day, the mist freezing so that it was impossible to see more than a short distance. Jon had telephoned to say he was on his way, but that had been ages ago and I was beginning to fret.
‘Don’t worry, my dear,’ Margaret said as I went to the front windows yet again. ‘Jon will …’
The front door bell pealed at that moment, and then we heard Jon’s voice answering the housekeeper’s anxious inquiry.
‘I’m fine, thank you, Mrs Rowan. The mist is pretty bad, but I managed to …’
I flew into the hall. Jon opened his arms, catching me and crushing me to him. We kissed passionately in front of a slightly startled Mrs Rowan and an approving Margaret, who had followed me into the hall and was smiling benevolently as she watched us.
‘I’ve missed you so
much,’ Jon said. ‘You smell gorgeous, Emma, like a wood after a shower of rain.’
I laughed with pleasure. Jon always said nice things to me. Sometimes, I thought he ought to have been a poet. He had been a solicitor before the war, though it was not a job he particularly enjoyed. Once, he had confessed to me that he would have liked to be a farmer. I had teased him then, but the slow, gentle life, caring for the land would have suited this man who had come to mean so much to me. Perhaps after the war was over we would think about making a new life together in the country.
Jon always said of himself that he was a plain, ordinary chap, the kind of man you might pass in the street without giving him a second glance. Perhaps his sandy coloured hair and rather square features were not remarkable, but inside he was beautiful. There was something fine, almost noble about Jon at times. Of course I would never dream of telling him that – he would cringe with embarrassment.
‘I’m so glad you’re home,’ I said now, clinging to his arm as I drew him into the warm, comfortable room where we had been sitting round the fire. ‘I can’t believe we’ve got two whole weeks together!’
‘It’s good, isn’t it?’ Jon smiled at Margaret. ‘How are you, Mrs Gould?’
‘Quite well, thank you,’ she replied. ‘Your uniform looks rather smart. I believe congratulations are in order, lieutenant?’
I realized Jon had various new stripes and badges sewn to his uniform jacket. ‘Does this mean you’ve passed everything?’ A tiny shiver went down my spine as he nodded. ‘So the training is finally over … that means …’
‘Yes.’ Jon touched a finger to my lips. ‘We don’t need to talk about any of this, Emma. We have a wedding to plan, and two glorious weeks to spend together.’
‘Lovely,’ I said and smiled up at him. ‘Your mother has the wedding planned for next Wednesday …’
‘She wanted to wait until Saturday, but I said no.’ A gleam of determination showed in Jon’s eyes. ‘Anyone who can’t make it by then can send their apologies. I want to spend my leave with my wife. I’m not prepared to waste time …’
‘Well said, Jon!’ Sol came in at that moment carrying a tray of fine crystal glasses. Behind him, was Mrs Rowan with an ice bucket and a magnum of champagne. ‘This is vintage,’ Sol announced triumphantly. ‘I’ve been saving it for the right moment … and I think this must be it, don’t you?’
‘That’s rather splendid of you, sir,’ Jon said and grinned. ‘Much appreciated.’
Sol opened the champagne. It popped beautifully and we all toasted one another, Mrs Rowan staying to wish us health before taking her glass away with her.
‘To a long and happy life for you both,’ Sol said. ‘May all your troubles be little ones.’
We all laughed, sipped our champagne and talked about the wedding. No one mentioned the war, or the fact that Jon would be flying combat missions once his leave was over. I knew he didn’t want to discuss or even think about war when he was with me. He said our time together was special, and must not be wasted.
‘It’s always there,’ he’d told me on one of his flying visits home. ‘I live, breathe and sleep war when I’m in camp, Emma. I don’t want to think about it when we’re together.’
I wondered if Jon was afraid. Surely any man would be? But somehow I sensed Jon’s feelings went deeper. In his heart he probably felt that war itself was wrong: killing and death were something so foreign to his nature that he must hate the very idea. Perhaps that was why he had chosen the Airforce instead of the Army? To keep the death and killing at a distance …
‘What are you thinking about?’ he asked suddenly. ‘Why the frown?’
‘I was wondering if we ought to leave. We don’t want to keep your mother waiting, Jon.’
‘No, of course not.’ He laughed. ‘I was told not to be late for lunch.’
‘We mustn’t keep you,’ Margaret said, and waved us away with a smile. ‘Now don’t worry about James, Emma. Nanny will see he eats his lunch, and I shall sit with him while he has his nap afterwards, as I always do.’
‘Don’t let him tire you then.’ I kissed her cheek. ‘I expect we shall be back by teatime.’
‘You look very well, Emma.’ Dorothy Reece smiled at me in her sad, wistful way. ‘It seems ages since I saw you, my dear.’
Immediately, I felt guilty. It was almost a month since I had last brought James to see her and Pops – known to the rest of the world as Sir Roy Armstrong.
‘Yes, I know,’ I apologized. ‘I’ve been so busy. Sol wanted me to produce a dress from start to finish, just to prove that I really understand what goes into the production of a finished garment. It was just a classic cut with a gored skirt and fitted waist, but I had to practise and study Mr Jackson’s work for several weeks …’
It was a weak excuse and we both knew it. The workshop was closed on both Saturdays and Sundays. I could visit every week if I chose, but the truth was I found Mrs Reece difficult to please. It wasn’t that she criticized me openly, but I was always aware of something … a look of disapproval or a lift of those fine brows.
She was a small, fragile woman who dressed in pretty, flowing gowns that made her look rather like a doll. However, I had soon discovered that beneath that wistful air was a very determined woman, a woman who usually knew how to get her own way.
‘Well, you are here now,’ she said with another of those smiles. ‘I’ve drawn up a list of guests I’ve invited. Most of them by telephone, Jonathan, since you insisted on such short notice …’ She frowned as she handed me the list. ‘You haven’t invited many friends, Emma. Are you sure you remembered everyone?’
‘I don’t have much family,’ I replied. ‘Just three uncles on my mother’s side, but they are scattered all over the place and Mum says not to bother inviting them. Sheila couldn’t leave the shop – but Mrs Henty is coming. I invited Mary and her husband, but she says it’s too far to come for a day and she can’t leave her father because he isn’t well. Mum and Bert are coming, of course, and Sol and Margaret. They are the only ones who really matter. I can send a piece of cake to the girls at work and a few other friends …’
‘Oh yes, the cake.’ Mrs Reece looked pleased with herself. ‘As you may imagine, wedding cakes are going to be in short supply, but I had made arrangements weeks ago. Your cake was already made and stored, Emma, and the icing sugar was bought and saved.’
‘She’s a clever girl,’ Pops said, beaming at us. ‘You should see the tinned food Dorothy has in the cellar. Fruit, salmon, ham … enough to feed an army, let alone a few wedding guests.’
‘I thought about it in advance,’ she said. ‘I didn’t need to rush out and spend all my sugar rations in one go. Not like that silly woman in the newspaper!’
‘You mean the one who was fined for being greedy and unpatriotic?’
‘Yes. So foolish. One only had to think, Emma. It was obvious months ago what was coming. I bought a little more than I needed every time I went shopping, and it has mounted up, that’s all.’
‘Don’t you believe her,’ Pops said, chuckling. ‘She has been like a general in the field preparing for a siege.’
I smiled and thanked Mrs Reece. She had been so determined to give us a splendid wedding. All I wanted was to marry Jon. If I were honest, I would have preferred a quiet ceremony and a small reception, but I didn’t want to spoil her pleasure.
‘You’ve been so kind,’ I said now. ‘I really will try to visit more often in future.’
‘But surely …’ She looked shocked. ‘You will be living here once you and Jonathan are married.’
‘No.’ I glanced at Jon. ‘Didn’t Jon tell you? We’ve decided to stay with Sol and Margaret for the time being. It’s easy for me to get to work from there, and James is settled. I don’t want to move him until Jon and I can find a home of our own.’
‘I did tell you, Mama,’ Jon said. ‘You might not have been listening, but I did tell you Emma wants to stay where she is for the moment.’
&nbs
p; ‘But surely Emma doesn’t need to work,’ she said. ‘Not when you are married. I had expected her to come here, to live with us. I was looking forward to it so much.’
‘Jon understands that I want to work,’ I said. ‘It is important to me. I’ve always been honest about this, Mrs Reece. I’m learning a trade. One day I hope to be in business for myself. I’m not sure whether I want to make clothes or sell them to the public, but working with Sol is teaching me so much …’
‘In business …’ She looked horrified. ‘But is that quite nice, Emma? In my day ladies didn’t … well, it wasn’t done. Respectable women just didn’t dabble in trade.’
Pops laughed. ‘Nor would you have wanted to work, Dorothy. But that doesn’t mean Emma shouldn’t. She is a very intelligent young woman. I think it’s a splendid idea. Why shouldn’t women run their own businesses if they choose?’
Mrs Reece frowned but made no further comments. She was forced to accept defeat this time, but I had a feeling that she was not going to give up the battle. She was used to having her own way.
‘Luncheon is ready, madam.’
The housekeeper’s announcement put an end to the discussion. After lunch we talked of other things. Pops gave us a beautiful silver tea and coffee service complete with its own tray, and Mrs Reece presented me with two sets of wonderful embroidered linen sheets and pillowcases, much nicer than anything I had been able to buy recently.
I thanked them both. Jon said we had to leave because of the fog, which was as bad as ever and didn’t look as if it would clear all day. He gave me a meaningful look as we went out to the car.
‘Thank goodness you didn’t cave in over living there, darling. I couldn’t put up with it. We’ll have to look for somewhere of our own when things calm down, but for the moment I think it best if you stay where you are. After all, I shan’t be around that often …’
‘No …’ I smiled at him. ‘Only two days and nights, then we’ll be together. Where are we going for our honeymoon?’
