by Betty Annand
“I’ve never thought of it before, but now that you’ve mentioned it, I probably would.”
“Humph! What a lot of nonsense. Keeping a household running smoothly is a duty not a career. Isn’t that right, Mother?” Jane replied, but received no answer—her mother more in favour of Gladys’s ideas than her daughter’s.
“Well, when I am married to Tom, I shall consider looking after our children as a pleasure and more of a career than a duty,” Gladys replied.
“I do not think you have any idea what you are talking about,” Greta remarked contemptuously. “Besides, now that you are going to marry an aristocrat, you had better start learning how to be a lady. That is if you plan to be accepted into Dover’s society. There is a lot more to becoming a proper lady than you can imagine. You have to know how to handle those below you, most of whom are thick in the head or lazy. Then again, being one yourself, you probably don’t understand what I am talking about.”
“Apologize at once, Greta!” her mother ordered.
Greta may have done so, but she hesitated too long. Gladys stood up, and shaking her finger at Greta, said, “I might be thick in the head, Miss Rowland, but one thing I have managed to learn is how to be polite. And that seems to be more than you have accomplished. Now, Mrs Dundas, I must excuse myself. Tom will be calling for me soon, and I would prefer to wait outside for him. Thank you very much for the tea.”
“Oh, Gladys, I am sorry! Please do not judge us all by these silly girls. The rest of us were delighted to meet you, and we would like to be your friends. Isn’t that right ladies?” The four older ladies smiled and nodded. Eloise then rang for the butler, and asked him to see the ladies out before she put an arm around Gladys, and said, “Now, my dear, first I want to show you the conservatory. It is my favourite room.”
They were almost finished with the tour when the butler informed Gladys that Tom was waiting for her outside in his chaise. “I mustn’t keep him waiting, Mrs Dundas, but I think you have a beautiful home. Thank you for showing it to me.”
She held out her hand, but instead of taking it, Eloise embraced her then apologized, “I am so sorry the afternoon turned out so badly, Gladys. The only reason I can think of for such rude behaviour is jealousy. The rest of us enjoyed your visit very much, and I would like you and your aunt to come for tea another time. I can promise you it will be a much more pleasant afternoon.” Gladys, seeing that she was sincere, replied, “Thank you, I shall look forward to it.”
Tom greeted her with a big smile and said, “Hello, my darling, and how did you enjoy sipping tea with the ‘Who’s Who’ amongst Dover’s social butterflies, or should I say social wasps?”
“Oh, Tom, I’m such a fool!” She told him how she had allowed them to upset her so much with their rude questions that she shocked them by saying she might seek a career after she was married. He laughed at first, but then realizing the inappropriateness of her statement, complained, “Now look here, Gladys, you are going to be my wife, and that is all you will ever be. So don’t get any silly ideas.”
There was something about the severity of Tom’s statement that shocked Gladys. He spoke to her as though she was an errant and spoiled child instead of a woman. Besides, his statement sounded more like an order than a suggestion. Gladys was beginning to understand that there was far more equality between the sexes in Old Nichol than in the outside world, and that when she married Tom she would be expected to obey him. With a sigh of resignation, she snuggled up to him and said, “To be your wife, my darling, is all I shall ever want to be.”
Chapter Fifteen
When Tom’s mother was alive, she insisted he and his father, Andrew, attend St. Mary’s Church with her on Sundays. Although Andrew liked the preacher, he didn’t enjoy his sermons since they were based on a book he considered mostly fiction, but he dearly loved his wife, so he went to please her. After she passed away, the family pew sat empty except when Andrew and Tom were invited to weddings, funerals, or christenings. However, Andrew’s second wife, Rose, and her two children were so taken with having a reserved family pew of their own that they dressed in their finest every Sunday and marched down the aisle with their noses in the air, as though they were members of the royal family.
Most of the congregation knew Rose was a gossip and schemer and usually paid little attention to what she said, but when she began talking about her stepson’s upcoming wedding as though she was privy to his plans, they began to wait anxiously for the banns to be read. But that didn’t happen.
Tom and Gladys were married on the 18th of February, 1845, in the Dover Courthouse. Gladys was sixteen. A law allowing marriages to be solemnized by civil contract had been passed on the 1st of December that same year. Gladys, who had never been to a church wedding, had no idea what she was missing and was happy to be married anywhere. Although the courthouse was a small and austere building, Millie insisted Gladys wear a beautiful wedding gown that she had made and had on display in her shop. Along with the gown, Gladys wore the tortoiseshell comb—her gift from the customers at the inn. She not only looked like a princess but felt like one, which she thought was most appropriate since Tom looked like a prince in his uniform.
Keith, Millie, and Tom’s father, were the only witnesses to the ceremony, but Neil and Laura Watt generously offered the use of their pub for a reception. No formal invitations were sent out, but the regular customers were surreptitiously informed, and they were delighted and honoured to join the celebration. Andrew hired Sam, the cook from the Whale’s Tail restaurant, to prepare the food, allowing Hilda and the rest of the Watts’ staff to enjoy the evening too. Besides the regular inn patrons, there were a few well-known dignitaries, who were good friends of Andrew’s, and Will and Enid Manson.
It took Sam and three of his kitchen staff three days to prepare the feast, and the results were so delectable that Andrew doubled his pay. Every kind of seafood was perfectly prepared using recipes from Portugal and India—recipes enhanced with herbs and curries that most of the guests had never tasted before. There were also Oriental dishes that Sam had learned to make from cooks who sailed to China and Japan. The Whale’s Tail was a favourite place for most of the cooks from the foreign ships to spend their time when they were in port, and it was there they drank, laughed, and traded recipes.
One of Sam’s friends, a cook on a French freighter, taught him how to make all the fancy sauces so popular in France. He also gave him the recipe for the newlyweds’ wedding cake, which Sam decorated with marzipan and icing. All in all, it was a feast like no other, and as Andrew put it, “I am certain the queen herself has never sat down to a tastier meal!”
When the last piece of cake was gone, the dishes were cleared away and the tables set aside to make room for dancing. It only took a couple of tunes played on two fiddles and a banjo to get everyone on their feet and kicking up their heels. The dancing and drinking went on until early morning.
Tom was ready to leave the reception right after the banquet, but the guests wouldn’t hear of it. After a good many drinks and a dance or two, the guests began begging Gladys to sing. She could tell that Tom wanted to leave, but she said, “I’ll sing if Pinky, Tom, and Keith sing with me.” At first the men refused, but Pinky and Gladys, along with a few boisterous guests, pulled them up from their seats and pushed them to the front of the pub.
Initially, Tom and Keith felt awkward and embarrassed, but when Gladys and Pinky began singing the song, “Waxie’s Dargle,” they couldn’t help but sing along since it was a popular song with their regiment. The rest of the men in the pub joined in with the chorus:
“What’ll you have, will you have a pint?
Yes, I’ll have pint with you, sir.
And if one of us doesn’t order soon,
We’ll be thrown out of the boozer.”
Once that song was finished, there was no stopping Tom and Keith, and they soon had everyone singing some of
the songs they sang in camp. The last one they sang was about a gentleman soldier. The lyrics were a little risqué and sad—a song Gladys remembered her mother singing:
“It’s of a gentleman soldier, as a sentry he did stand,
He kindly saluted a fair maid by waving of his hand.
So boldly then he kissed her, and passed it off as a joke.
He drilled her into the sentry box wrapped up in a soldier’s cloak.
For the drums did go with a rap-a-tap-tap and the fifes did loudly play,
Saying: fare you well, my Polly dear, I must be going away.”
As they continued singing the rest of the verses there was plenty of sympathetic, “ohs” and “ahs” from the ladies and laughter from the gentlemen. After Tom and Keith finished the song, the newlyweds were finally allowed to leave. Keith delivered them to their house in Andrew’s best carriage, hugging them both as he left. He was barely out of sight of the house when he broke down and began to cry.
__________
Andrew had offered to buy the newlyweds a furnished home and hire servants for them, but they refused his generous offer, preferring to live alone. Perhaps if they had planned on staying in Dover, they would have accepted, but Tom knew he would be sent to India, and if he received his commission before he left, Gladys would be allowed to go with him. Only commissioned officers were allowed to take their wives.
They had found a two storied house they could afford to rent a week before the wedding. It was very plain inside and out and hadn’t many windows, but Gladys was thrilled with it, even more so when she saw there was a little, overgrown flower garden in the front yard.
She was so elated with the prospect of living in a house of her own that she could hardly hide her enthusiasm, but she managed to convince Tom and his father that she considered it a mediocre dwelling. If they only knew what it meant to her to have all that room for just two people, they wouldn’t have been so generous with their praise. She felt like she was the luckiest person in the world. In Old Nichol, five families could live in a house that size and still have room for more.
After Keith dropped them off, Tom grabbed Gladys’s hand and ran up the stairs, pulling her after him. He could hardly open the door with the key; he was so anxious to hold her in his arms. They were no sooner across the threshold when he began hugging and kissing her in the darkness of their sitting room. Although Gladys wanted the kisses as much as Tom, she managed to wiggle out of his arms and insist he quell his passion, asking that he light a lamp so she could make her way up the stairs to the bedroom in order to take off Millie’s dress so it would be fit to put up on display in the shop again.
Gladys had lived in a tiny space with parents who had openly enjoyed each other’s bodies until liquor rendered them incapable of all such sentiments. She had also gone with Sally a few times on her rounds and had seen naked bodies of every shape, so she felt no embarrassment when she took off the rest of her clothing and stood naked in front of Tom. He was shocked but aroused. Her beauty and her brazenness was all it took, and their marriage was quickly consummated.
Granted a weekend leave for his wedding, Tom returned to the castle on Monday morning heavy-eyed but wearing a grin of contentment. Although Gladys had bid him goodbye while vowing how lonely she would be without him, she could hardly wait to be on her own. Having an entire house to herself was more than she had dared dream of. Many of the inn’s patrons, along with Millie, Keith, Tom’s father, and the Watts, had surprised her and Tom by giving them wedding gifts.
Now, without Tom’s demanding attention, she had time to closely examine each of the precious gifts. There was an assortment of linens, dishes, cookware, bottled preserves, and a lovely China ornament of two blue and grey turtle doves, a surprisingly sentimental gift from Laura Watt.
She picked up each gift, fondled it and marvelled at the wealth it represented. Picking up the ornamental doves, she addressed them out loud as she walked about the parlour, “Now, my dears, we must find the perfect place for you to perch. It has to be in a place where everyone can see you and admire you as soon as they come into the parlour. How about on this little table? No, someone could accidently knock you off. How about upon the mantle? Yes, you will look elegant there, and you shall be out of danger. Let me see.” She placed the doves on the mantle then left the room and went into the vestibule.
After a few seconds, she returned to the sitting room pretending to be a guest. She glanced around the room then looked at the ornaments. “Oh my, Mrs Pickwick,” she exclaimed, “what a beautiful pair of turtle doves you have. I would give anything for a pair of those.” Then she flopped down on the divan and burst out laughing. The rest of the day she spent cleaning everything that was already clean and rearranging furniture.
Having little to do the following day, and since Tom’s training would keep him away for a few days, Gladys decided to visit Millie and invite her to come and see her house. It was a pleasant spring day when she set out, so she took time to stop and admire the spring flowers in some of the front gardens. A middle-aged man with a friendly face was on his knees working in one of the yards. He looked up at her then smiled and said, “Primroses take over the lot if thee’s not careful.”
“Is that what those pretty yellow ones are?” Gladys inquired.
The man seemed delighted to have someone admire his work, and with the help of a stout stick, he slowly got to his feet before answering. “Yes, miss, those, an’ the red an’ pink ones. Does thee have a garden?”
When Gladys lifted her eyes to look at the man, she was unable to answer for a second, having realized that she was standing in front of the Pickwick home. “Does thee have a garden, miss?” the man repeated.
“No, no, but I wish I did. Do you live here?”
The man laughed, shook his head and pointing in the direction of the castle, replied, “No, miss. I live over there at the bottom of the hill, at the beginning of St. Mary’s cemetery. My wife and I live in St. Mary’s Lodge. I am the Superintendent of the cemetery, but I come here once in a while to clean up Mr Pickwick’s flower garden. ’Tis his wife who lives here now. Mr Pickwick, he lives at the quay, and I can’t say I blame him, if you’ll pardon me, miss.” Then with a nod toward the house, he added, “She has no interest in flowers at all. Does thee know her, miss?”
“No. Surprisingly, I don’t, even though my husband is her stepson. You see, Tom Pickwick and I were married last Friday.”
“Well, if that doesn’t beat all! Young Tom has gone and wed. And if thee will pardon my frankness, I should say he’s picked a mighty pretty wife.”
“Why, what a nice thing to say. Thank you, Mr . . .?”
“Grimsby, ma’am, Grimsby. Will thee be living here now?”
“Oh dear, no, Mr Grimsby, I don’t think Mrs Pickwick would appreciate that!” Gladys answered with a chuckle. “Tom and I have rented a house on Mulberry Lane.” Just then the front door of the house opened and Rose Pickwick, dressed in a bright patterned paisley shawl and a large feathered bonnet, stepped out. She was about to descend the stairs when she saw Gladys. After delivering a contemptuous look at both her and the gardener, she made a swift retreat, slamming the door behind her.
“I hope I haven’t caused you any trouble, Mr Grimsby,” Gladys said.
“Don’t thee worry thyself, miss. ’Tis Mr Pickwick himself that hired me. Now if thee would like some of these primroses I am thinning out, I shall bring them over later in the week.”
“I would love some, but I have no idea how or where to plant them.”
“We shall find a place, don’t thee worry. And please feel free to drop in on my wife and me any time. I keep a good show of flowers about the cemetery if I do say so.”
“Thank you, Mr Grimsby. I shall look forward to that.”
As Gladys was saying goodbye, she could feel she was being watched, so she looked up at the parted curtains, smi
led sweetly, then gave Mrs Pickwick a dainty finger wave.
She arrived at Millie’s just as the dressmaker was closing for the day.
“You look very pleased with yourself, my dear. I wonder why that is?” Millie joked.
Then, expecting her answer to be about marital bliss, she was surprised when Gladys exclaimed, “I have the whole house all to myself. Imagine having so much room. Pinch me, Millie. It has to be too good to be true.”
“That’s very nice, dear, but I wanted to know how you like being Mrs Pickwick?”
“Oh, I like it fine.” Gladys said offhandedly, then eagerly added, “But you have to come home with me and see the house. If we hurry, we can dine at the inn on the way home, then I shall send you back in a cab later—or you can even stay with me. I have two lovely bedrooms, and each one has a window. Now do hurry, Millie, and put your bonnet on; we should be going.”
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The weeks that followed were the happiest that Gladys had ever known. She knew how different her background was from that of Tom’s, and she had been afraid he would find her too ignorant and unsophisticated once they were married and living together; but both he and Keith treated her with more respect than she had dared hope for. She soon felt as free to express herself with them as she did with Millie, and the more unpretentious she was, the more they seemed to enjoy her company.
The three of them played board games and went walking on the beach after every storm to hunt for treasures that came off the unfortunate ships that were victims of the turbulent sea. They found tins of tea from China, crates of oranges from Spain, and sometimes bowls and figurines carved from the exotic woods from other distant countries. Most of what they found they gave to two local scavengers and acquaintances of Tom and Keith. These men made their living selling whatever they could pick up on the beach.
