by Nancy Revell
Kate stood stock-still and raised her hands to her cheeks.
‘Oh my! Maisie! Thank goodness! Where did you find it?’ The words of gratitude spilled out.
‘On the stairs,’ Maisie told her, her breath now sounding more normal, ‘you must have dropped it on your way out.’
‘Oh Lord! Thank goodness you saw it!’ Kate was beside herself. ‘Thank you thank you thank you thank you! You’ve saved the day. Gosh, you must have practically sprinted here to get it to us on time. I can’t thank you enough.’
‘Oh, you’ve nothing to thank me for, Kate.’ Maisie looked across at Vivian, who smiled back at her friend. ‘I knew how much this meant to you.’
Vivian let out a huge sigh of relief. She felt almost as elated as Kate. The whole bordello knew just about every stitch of the fascinator now held aloft in Maisie’s hand. If Bel hadn’t got married with it adorning her very pretty head, she honestly thought Kate would have gone into some kind of designer mourning.
‘Can I do the honours?’ Maisie asked Kate as she walked across to Bel and raised the fascinator like a crown ready to be placed on the head of the bride-to-be.
‘Oh, yes, please do!’ Kate would have agreed to anything at that moment, so ecstatic was she about the reappearance of the headpiece.
Maisie smiled at Bel as she carefully placed it on top of her golden locks, making sure not to spoil Vivian’s handiwork.
As Maisie adjusted the fascinator Bel realised that she and Maisie were more or less the same height. It was the first time Bel had seen Maisie up close and she realised not just how striking she really was, but also how brown her skin was – much more than it had seemed when they had been introduced in the shop a few weeks ago.
As Maisie stood back to check the headpiece, Kate clapped her hands together lightly, and declared, ‘Perfect!’
Bel turned to look at herself in the mirror and it was then she understood why her ma was feeling like royalty – for Bel had to admit that she felt like a princess. Her wedding day was really starting to feel rather magical.
‘Kate, you’d better get your dress on,’ Vivian cajoled her. ‘George’ll be here any minute.’
The words were barely out of her mouth when the door opened, the bell rang out, and George entered.
Quickly Kate whipped her dress off the sewing table, where it had been tossed and patted down in their desperate search, before darting behind the curtain panel and into the back room to get changed.
‘Thank goodness, you made it, Maisie,’ George said. ‘Lily’s been worried sick you wouldn’t get here in time to give Bel her tiara.’ George looked at Bel and smiled.
‘It’s not a tiara, George,’ Vivian reprimanded. ‘It’s called a fascinator.’
George guffawed. ‘Well, whatever it is,’ he paused, ‘it looks wonderful.’ Then, making a show of being totally bowled over by the vision of the bride in front of him, he added, ‘Or should I say that it is Bel – the bride-to-be – that looks rather stunning.’
Bel blushed. She had never met George before, but he was just as she had imagined.
‘Right,’ he said, putting his stern voice on, ‘your carriage awaits, and …’ he looked at Kate and smiled as she slipped back through into the shop, now wearing the black dress that he knew had once been Lily’s, ‘the rest of you need to get to the Registry Office – pronto!’
‘Oh, I’m not going, George,’ Maisie said, quickly making her way to the door as if to leave.
‘Oh, no, please don’t!’ Bel pleaded. Her voice had gone a little shaky with nerves. ‘Won’t you come to the wedding? The ceremony itself won’t be long, and there’ll be a little party afterwards at our local – a buffet and a fair amount of alcohol?’
‘I’d love to!’ Maisie said with a wide smile. She looked at Vivian, whose face had instantly lit up at the prospect of her best mate accompanying her.
‘All good,’ George said, looking anxiously at his fob watch. ‘Now, you young fillies need to shake a leg. Go – be gone!’ he said, opening the door and shepherding them out. As he did so Kate pressed the key to the shop into his hand and was about to say something, but was beaten to it.
‘Yes, my dear,’ George sighed, ‘don’t worry. I will make sure the shop’s all secure. Now go, the lot of you. Scram!’
As Kate, Vivian and Maisie started hurrying down the street, Bel waited on the pavement while George locked up.
She watched the women and smiled.
She was just walking over to the MG, which had been parked outside the shop and was decorated with a thick white ribbon, when Maisie turned back and shouted up the street.
‘Oh … and “Happy Wedding Day”, Isabelle!’
Bel felt herself stiffen. She hated being called by her full name. Only her mother called her Isabelle and that was only because she knew it was guaranteed to wind her up.
As George opened the car door, giving Bel his hand so she could carefully climb in, she suddenly felt a little perturbed by Maisie’s impromptu appearance, which was stupid as she had saved the day and brought the fascinator.
George manoeuvred himself into the driving seat, placing his walking stick on the back seat, and revved the engine. As he started to pull away the first few spots of rain started to fall from the darkening clouds.
‘Good job the old gal’s not an open-top,’ he said, as he began his detour around the town centre making sure Bel would be fashionably late by just five minutes.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The Registry Office, John Street, Sunderland
‘Oh look, there’s Hannah … and surprise, surprise, Olly’s with her,’ Dorothy said cheekily to Angie and Polly. The three women were feeling particularly pleased with themselves as they’d done what they’d needed to do at the Grand Hotel and were now outside the Registry Office at the bottom end of John Street, just up from the wine and spirit merchants J.W. Cameron & Co. They were waiting for the rest of their workmates to arrive, as they had all arranged to meet up before going in.
Rosie had arrived earlier with Lily, and had bobbed out to tell them she was keeping Lily company inside. When Dorothy and Angie had seen she was wearing a pair of grey slacks their eyes nearly popped out. Although when their boss had disappeared back into the warmth of the stately Georgian building, they had admitted she carried them off really well.
‘Hi Hannah … hi Oliver,’ Dorothy said as their ‘little bird’ and her ‘friend’ reached them. They all proceeded to ‘ooh’ and ‘ah’ about what the others were wearing, apart from Olly, of course, who seemed more than happy to take a back seat as long as that back seat meant he was by Hannah’s side.
When they spotted Gloria pushing baby Hope across the Borough Road in her large Silver Cross pram, they all waved to her. Just as she was starting up John Street, Martha suddenly appeared from around the corner, and, on seeing Gloria, bellowed out her name and stomped to catch up with her, nearly knocking over a well-dressed man coming the other way.
As Gloria and Martha joined the women, Polly glanced up to the darkening skies. ‘Those clouds look a bit heavy to me,’ she said. ‘I reckon we all get in and get settled.’
‘Yes, I agree,’ Dorothy trilled, looking at her watch. ‘Anyway, it’s nearly time!’ Her voice had climbed an octave. ‘The bride should be here soon!’
‘I’m guessing the groom is here already?’ Gloria asked Polly, who laughed. ‘Oh, yes, he got here with the Major before anyone else. Talk about eager! Although he is looking ever so nervous.’
‘Speak of the devil,’ Gloria said, seeing Joe come out of the front door with a couple of younger lads, who looked very smart and handsome in their khaki Home Guard uniforms and caps.
Dorothy nudged Angie and whispered in her ear, ‘I reckon they’re the farmer boys Pol told us about.’
Angie gave them a quick once-over and nodded her head. ‘Agreed,’ she said, in all earnestness. ‘They’ve got the look.’
As soon as Joe spotted Gloria he hurried down the steps. �
�How’s our little Hope doing today?’ he asked, taking hold of the top end of the pram, while the two ‘farmer boys’ took charge of the other end.
‘This is Bert and this is Hector,’ Joe introduced the young men to Gloria, as they hauled the pram up the short flight of stone steps, taking care not to rock the carriage and wake the baby.
As they manoeuvred the Silver Cross in, putting it at the side of the wide, tiled hallway, Gloria reached down and carefully lifted Hope out, gently cradling her in her arms.
‘Thanks, lads,’ she said, quickly adding, ‘Joe, you’d better get yourself in there, she’ll be due any minute now.’ Gloria had to stifle a little chuckle as Joe did in fact look as nervous as hell as he hurried off into the large oak-panelled Registry Office, where all the guests were now gathered.
Gloria followed him through the open doorway and was immediately immersed in a hum of happy chatter and an air of anticipation.
‘Budge up, girls,’ she said as Dorothy, Angie, Martha, Hannah and Olly were fussing about which seats they should be in.
Dorothy patted the seat next to her, and as Gloria sat down in a chair by the aisle, Dorothy took a peek at her beloved goddaughter, who was all swaddled up in a blanket in her mother’s arms.
‘Fingers crossed she stays like this,’ Gloria said.
Just then, Angie grabbed Dorothy’s hand and squeezed it hard. ‘Dor, look!’ she whispered. ‘There’s Lily!’
If Dorothy could have screeched she would have. Instead she squeezed Angie’s hand back – but even harder.
‘Ow, that hurts!’ Angie hissed into Dorothy’s ear, but her eyes were glued to the back of Lily’s head. Some strands of her peachy, orange-coloured hair had already broken free from the confines of her carefully coiffured bun. Dorothy and Angie stared at her profile as she turned her head to chat to Rosie.
‘Blimey, I’d love to raid her make-up bag,’ Dorothy said, eyeing Lily’s perfectly made-up face which, for a change, had been done very subtly.
‘I’d love to raid her jewellery box,’ Angie said, just as Lily raised her hand to check her hair and in doing so flashed a hand covered in diamond and gold rings and a heavy gold bracelet.
The women welders all shuffled around in their seats, trying to disguise the fact that they were having a good gawk at the other guests.
Hannah was looking at Agnes, who was in the front row. She was saying something to Arthur, who then got up and made his way down the aisle to wait for Bel.
Martha was looking at Joe’s best man, Major Black, who was at the front in his wheelchair. They all knew he was a First World War veteran, and that he and Joe had become close since Joe had joined the Home Guard. She watched with interest as the Major turned his wheelchair around to check on the other six Home Guard soldiers. He seemed pleased that they were all sitting bolt upright and looking straight ahead of them.
Gloria, meanwhile, was transfixed by the sight of Pearl in her blue velvet dress as she walked around the Registrar’s table, trying to keep an over-excited Lucille occupied.
‘Blimey, Pearl looks good,’ Gloria said to Polly. She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.
‘I know,’ Polly agreed in a loud whisper, ‘I was quite taken aback myself when I saw her earlier on when she arrived. I thought that Kate was just doing a few alterations, but I think she must have binned the dress Pearl originally gave her and started afresh. Although where she managed to get hold of that velvet I have no idea.’
‘Who’s the bloke sitting on the other side, in front of the Home Guard?’ Angie leant forward and asked. ‘He looks a bit dodgy.’
Polly chuckled. ‘Ah, that’s Ronald. He’s Pearl’s male friend.’
‘What?’ Dorothy butted in. ‘Like Hannah here’s Boy Friend?’ Hannah cast Dorothy a death stare and Olly turned a bright shade of red.
‘Sort of,’ Polly said quietly, ‘although I think their friendship is based more on cigarettes and alcohol than anything else … He’s all right, though. Joe and Arthur get on with him, so he can’t be all bad.’
‘And what about that old bloke – the other one who looks as ancient as Arthur?’ Angie asked.
‘That’s Albert,’ Polly said, ‘Arthur’s friend. The one with the allotment.’
Just then Beryl and her two girls, Audrey and Iris, bustled in and sat in front of the women welders. Beryl turned round. ‘All right, you lot?’
Polly, Gloria, Dorothy, Angie, Martha, Hannah and Olly all smiled and nodded that they were. Beryl nudged her two teenage daughters and said, ‘My two – Iris and Audrey.’ On hearing their names both girls turned round and said a shy ‘hello’.
Beryl then swivelled back around and leant across an empty chair in front of her to prod Agnes in the back. When she turned round Agnes’s face lit up and the two old friends started nattering way.
The chatter in the room seemed to grow in volume for a few more minutes before a loud cough sounded out from the doorway. Fifteen heads turned as the Registrar, carrying a large, leather-bound book, entered the room. Everyone stopped talking as the middle-aged, smartly dressed town official entered. He smiled at the upturned faces as he walked down to the large wooden table at the front. He quickly surveyed the room, and was thankful there was just the one baby; newborns always seemed to pick the most inopportune moment to wake up and give their lungs a good workout.
‘Ah, Mr Elliot,’ the Registrar said, stretching out his hand to Joe. The gentle murmur of chatter started up again as Joe introduced the man to those in the front row.
One of the Registry Office employees, an older woman dressed from head to toe in brown, struggled into the room carrying a portable gramophone, which she placed on a small table at the back. She scuttled out of the room, returning seconds later with a record, just as Kate, Vivian and Maisie slipped into the back row.
‘Blimey,’ Kate whispered across to Vivian and Maisie, ‘we’re just in the nick of time.’
Maisie, however, couldn’t have been more pleased with what she considered to be their perfect timing. Her plan was going better than she could ever have expected. There was no way she wanted to be introduced to any of the other guests – let alone the mother of the bride – at least, not until everyone was gathered at the wedding reception.
A few seconds later a slightly breathless George hurried through the entrance and sat himself in the seat next to Kate.
‘Gosh, you’d think it was my daughter getting married,’ he said quietly to Kate, who allowed herself a quiet chuckle.
Just then there was a crackle and then an instrumental version of ‘Here Comes the Bride’ filled the air. The whole room fell into an expectant silence as all the guests swivelled around.
Within seconds Bel entered the room, clutching her bouquet and walking arm in arm with a very proud-looking Arthur.
Bel’s eyes immediately sought out Joe, standing straight, his walking stick barely visible in his left hand.
There was an immediate intake of breath as the guests took in the vision of this radiant bride who was wearing the most stunning silk dress, along with an incredibly elegant fascinator.
Joe looked mesmerised by the woman slowly making her way towards him.
Agnes looked at her daughter-in-law and then at her son and swallowed hard, determined not to cry.
When Bel reached Joe, the music stopped. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
The silence was broken by the clear, confident voice of the Registrar as he began the ceremony with a short statement on marriage.
‘Bel looks pretty amazing, doesn’t she?’ Vivian’s whispered question was directed to Kate on her right and Maisie on her left. Kate nodded. She felt both elated and exhausted. Her thumbs and fingers were as sore as hell, but it had been worth every pinprick – worth every minute she had spent hunched over her sewing machine to see the end result now, and on such a perfect model.
Maisie also nodded agreement, but as she did so she had to physically bite her bottom lip to prevent
the envy and spite that had been building up in her from breaking free. She knew she had to keep it all in – for the moment, anyway.
‘And now,’ the Registrar said, ‘for the wedding vows.’
He turned to look at Joe. ‘Please repeat after me … “I, Joe Harold Elliot, take you …”’
Everyone looked on as Joe and Bel promised to love each other ‘for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health …’
There were more than a few watery eyes – from both the women and the men – by the time the Registrar asked Major Black for the ring.
As Joe slid the small gold band that he had bought on tick from Blacklock the jewellers in town on to Bel’s hand, the Registrar said, ‘I hereby declare you man and wife … You may kiss the bride.’
Dorothy and Angie didn’t move a muscle as they gawped at the newly-marrieds, who were, in their eyes, akin to a Hollywood couple. As Joe took Bel’s upturned face into his hands and kissed her ever so gently on the lips, Dorothy let out a loud sigh, causing Iris and Audrey to giggle.
There was a spontaneous round of applause, before another record, ‘Night and Day’ by Cole Porter, was played, and Bel and Joe signed the marriage register, with Agnes and Pearl stepping forward to add their signatures as witnesses.
By now everyone had started shuffling around in their seats and chattering to each other. Polly turned round and introduced the women welders to Kate, Vivian and Maisie. There was fascination in both camps, who were equally intrigued by the work the other did. Hannah congratulated Kate on her ‘magnificent dress’ and Dorothy asked Vivian how she had created Bel’s hairdo.
As they chatted, Maisie feigned interest but all the while she kept surreptitiously looking at Pearl and Bel at the front of the room, watching their every move.
