by Kitty Neale
Together they looked at every available dress in Alison’s size, of which there were surprisingly many. Alison was impressed. This was very different to shopping at the market, where she had to buy whatever was available whether she liked it or not. She had never been spoilt for choice before, and was glad she had Vera to guide her through the baffling selection. She’d seen girls her age out in tightly waisted frocks with wide skirts and for years had dreamed of having one for herself but it had never been likely she’d find one. She had never been able to afford anything fashionable; when she was little, even if there had been any money to spare in the Butler household, there was rationing in force and only utility wear in the shops. By the time the restrictions were lifted and the swishing skirts of the New Look came in, she was too tall to find anything within their meagre budget.
‘Something A-line would be best so if your bump grows over the next few weeks it’ll still be disguised,’ said Vera, who was familiar with this dilemma from other customers. ‘Then it’ll fit once you’ve had the baby so your mum won’t go ape and say it’s a waste. How about this? The colour’s right for you.’
‘Too close to the bridesmaid’s dress I was to wear to Hazel’s do. She’ll never forgive me for that, ripping the material.’
‘Pity. All right, this is a similar shape.’ Vera drew out a grey and cream frock with a V-neck and padded shoulders. ‘Look, this is good because it’ll make you look broader at the top so people won’t notice your height as much. Try it on. And have you thought about shoes? You’re not wearing those.’ She glanced in horror at Alison’s sensible sandals, which had come from the men’s stall at the market. ‘Didn’t you realise you can get proper shoes in big sizes? We’ll try that department next. You have to have something with a pointy toe, that’s the trend.’
Alison felt as if she was in another world as Vera guided her through what suited her and what didn’t. She would never have thought of all the things that apparently mattered. ‘Honestly, you’ve got no idea, have you?’ Vera shook her head in mock-exasperation. ‘I can see you don’t want high heels if he ain’t as tall as you to start with but you don’t have to wear flat shoes. A kitten heel is what you need. See, these little cream ones will go with your dress and with just about anything else. We’ll get you some matching gloves while we’re at it.’
‘Gloves?’ Alison wore them only for warmth in winter.
‘Gloves,’ said Vera firmly. ‘And a matching bag while we’re at it. Fred’s going to want you to look smart, ain’t he? Will you want a hat? How are you having your hair?’
‘No idea. Like this, I suppose.’
Vera raised her eyebrows at that. ‘You are not. There is no way on this earth that I’m allowing you to get married with hair like that. You have to have it done special. You might as well make the most of it, now it’s all shiny.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Blimey, don’t you ever look in the mirror in the mornings?’
Alison shook her head. She’d avoided mirrors as much as possible for as long as she could remember.
‘Your hair gets shinier and thicker when you’re having a baby. Do you mean to say you haven’t noticed? Has nobody said anything until now? Well, it does. So you can have it cut different if you like. Who usually does your hair?’
‘I do.’ Alison thought that was a stupid question. ‘When it starts getting in the way I chop the ends off.’
Vera almost lost her footing. ‘Well not this time. You’re going to the hairdresser’s to have it done properly, which is how my hair looks like this.’ She twirled a curl round her finger. ‘You tell me the date of your wedding and I’ll book you in to where I have mine done. Don’t make that face, it’ll be my treat.’
‘You don’t have to …’
‘I know I don’t have to, silly, but I want to. Besides.’ Vera indicated the pile of goods she had gathered for Alison to buy. The cream kitten heels with their tiny bows at the front were unlike anything she’d ever seen her friend in before and she was particularly proud of having persuaded Alison to have them. ‘This lot will give me a nice bit of commission so I can easily afford to treat you.You’re not getting out of it, Alison. I’ll escort you there myself. You will have a decent hairstyle on your wedding day if it kills me.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Fred stared at Alison as if he couldn’t believe his good luck. ‘Hello, Mrs Chapman,’ he said.
They had chosen to marry when the shop closed on a Wednesday afternoon, and were now back at the flat after the wedding. There had seemed little point in a honeymoon. Alison thought it would be a waste of money and Fred had been reluctant to shut the shop, even for a couple of days. Besides, it wasn’t as if they were rushing to enjoy their wedding night. Or at least Alison hoped not. The way Fred was looking at her she wasn’t sure. Suddenly she felt nervous. She told herself not to be stupid – she’d been on her own with Fred for months and he’d never given her a reason to be afraid. Yet now they were married things would be different. Anxiously she turned the ring on her finger.
The ceremony had gone smoothly, with just Cora, Hazel and Linda there as witnesses. Terry and Neville hadn’t been able to get time off and June had stayed with one of her little friends. ‘It’s too confusing for her,’ Linda explained. ‘We’ve spent months telling her what a wedding is like, and how she gets special clothes, we all go to church, the bride wears a big white dress and says special words. She won’t know what to make of this.’
Alison understood and didn’t blame her sister. It wasn’t as if she really wanted to be there herself, and the fewer people who saw it the better. Hazel however was delighted, crowing that hers was the proper wedding and hadn’t had to be organised in a hurry. It was her way of getting back at Alison for coming home with the new outfit. Hazel’s eyes had nearly popped out of her head when she saw it. She was jealous beyond words and furthermore couldn’t see the point of putting such beautiful clothes on her ugly sister. It was like wrapping a pig in silk.
Alison had endured having her hair done at the parlour Vera had recommended and had steeled herself for the usual insulting comments. Instead the hairdresser had taken a close look at her hair and then her face, turning her head this way and that, making humming noises. Vera had stood by, observing it all. ‘What do you think?’ she’d asked.
‘Lots of potential,’ the hairdresser had replied. Her own hair was cropped and made her look like Audrey Hepburn. ‘Her hair’s on the fine side but it could be given more body if I cut it shorter and gave it some waves. That would offset the length of the face. Good cheekbones though. Yes, we can definitely do something with this.’
Alison had blushed furiously, wishing they wouldn’t talk about her as if she wasn’t there.
Vera had nodded in agreement and got out of the way as the hairdresser had set to work, washing and cutting and spraying. Alison wasn’t keen on the spray – it smelt odd and made her want to sneeze. And yet Vera insisted she had to get some.
‘You won’t get those waves to stay in without it. Besides it’ll keep your hair away from your face, which will be useful at work.’
Alison gave way reluctantly, conceding it would be better not to be tucking her long hair behind her ears all the time. She’d have to learn what to do with the spray. Some of the women at the factory had used it but she’d never seen the point before.
Finally the woman had finished, and swung Alison round in the black vinyl swivel chair to see the result. ‘What do you think?’
Alison had stared at her reflection, totally taken aback. The girl staring out at her was unrecognisable. Her hair swung in waves, making her face look broader, and it was sleek, as Vera had said. Nervously she patted it. ‘It’s … amazing. How did you do that?’
‘It’s called a proper haircut,’ said Vera, delighted with the result. ‘See, I told you it would be a good idea. Now we’ve got to get you home without spoiling it, and into your new dress. Thanks, Babs, that’s just what I wanted for h
er. I reckon you’ve just got yourself a repeat customer.’
The combination of smart new clothes and the hairdo had caused plenty of comment. Even Hazel had to admit it was an improvement, though she was quick to point out that just about anything would be. Cora had to bite back the remark that it was a waste of money, pleased that Alison wouldn’t be letting down her new husband.
Linda took genuine pleasure in her little sister’s transformation and insisted on taking pictures on the camera Terry had recently bought her. ‘Then I can show June later and explain that there are different sorts of wedding. She’ll love your hair.’
Linda had been more concerned about Alison’s pregnancy, careful not to reveal that she was desperately trying for another child herself. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ she’d asked in one of the rare moments the two of them could talk privately, as the others rearranged themselves for photos. ‘You could have told me, I wouldn’t have shouted at you.’
Alison had nodded, remembering how she’d tried to find a way of doing just that. ‘I did want to but there was never the time. I couldn’t bear to write it down in a letter, it was all too hard. I know you’d have been kind but you couldn’t have made it go away. I just wanted someone to wave a magic wand and sort it all out for me but I’ve had to grow up a bit since then.’ She shook her head. ‘Look, we’d better pose for the family group. You will come and see me, won’t you?’
‘Of course,’ Linda had said, smoothing the skirt of her well-cut new blue suit, although she knew how hard it would be to see a small baby in her sister’s arms. ‘You are all right about this whole thing now, aren’t you? Fred’ll look after you.’
‘I know,’ Alison had agreed.
As for Fred, he’d smiled so broadly his round face almost split in two. He’d always suspected the girl just needed a helping hand. His chest had swelled with pride as they repeated the words the registrar spoke to them. Linda took more photos as they emerged into the August sunshine, then persuaded Hazel to take one with her in it. It was almost like a proper church wedding.
Now Fred stood in the kitchen of the flat, opening a cupboard and taking out two slender glasses. ‘I thought you might like to celebrate,’ he said. ‘I bought some champagne. Do you like it?’
‘I’ve never tried it,’ Alison said cautiously. Nobody she knew drank champagne. Linda drank sherry and she knew Hazel was trying to learn to like it too; Cora would have port and lemon at Christmas. The men drank beer. Champagne was something rich people drank in films.
‘Well, time you did,’ said Fred, taking a green bottle from the fridge. ‘It’s only right that we celebrate, isn’t it? This is the start of our lives together.’
Alison flinched. She couldn’t help it. Was this part of his ploy – would he make her drunk and then get her into his bed? She didn’t think she could bear it. When he came over to hand her a glass she recoiled. ‘I don’t know … I’m not sure …’
Fred set the glass down on the counter. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. ‘Was it all too much for you, earlier today?’
‘No, no, that’s not it.’ She couldn’t tell him. Suddenly she was tongue-tied, too nervous to say anything. Her hands shook. She was afraid she might start to cry.
Fred finally realised what was going on and took a step back. ‘No need to worry,’ he said, then paused. ‘Look, I better say one thing. We didn’t talk about it before, but I hope you know me well enough by now to see that I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to do. I’m not going to touch you. You’ve got a baby on the way and it would be wrong. You didn’t seriously think I’d make a grab for you, did you? I’m not that kind of man. I respect you too much for that.’
She looked across the room at him, and sagged with relief. ‘I … don’t know. I wasn’t sure what to think. I mean, we’re married now. But after what happened before, I couldn’t … I couldn’t …’ She began to sob, unable to stop, even though she wasn’t afraid any more.
Fred reached into the pocket of his suit trousers and brought out a new white hanky. ‘Here. Dry your eyes. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a lovely young girl and I’m proud to have you as my wife. Really, I am. I thought I was the luckiest man alive today. Don’t look so surprised, it’s true, and it’s about time you started to believe it. But I’m not completely heartless. I know what you’ve been through. Why would I make that worse? You mean too much to me, you do. We’re a team, remember? We’re companions.’
He slowly came over to her and gave her a gentle squeeze around the shoulders then stepped back. ‘Don’t go spoiling your new things by crying all over them. Here. Take this glass and see what you think.’
She lifted her glass and smelt the strange golden liquid. Bubbles stung her nose and she swiftly put it down again. Then she thought how silly it was after all that had happened to be beaten by one small drink.
Gingerly she lifted it once more and sipped. ‘It’s … it’s … not bad. Takes a bit of getting used to.’
‘That’s my girl.’ Fred picked up his own glass and chinked it against hers. ‘Cheers. To our life together.’
‘To our life together,’ Alison repeated. This was it – there was no going back now. She had married Fred and she was now Mrs Chapman. She’d just have to make the best of it.
‘Your dad would have been proud of you today,’ said Fred. ‘Do you know, you sometimes remind me of him. I never said so before, it must be the drink talking, but you do.’
‘Really?’ Alison couldn’t have been more surprised. ‘But Mum’s always saying she can’t see anything of him in me at all. I think it’s one of the reasons she doesn’t like me much. We’ve only got a few old pictures and I can’t spot any resemblance.’
Fred twisted the glass in his hand. ‘Well, maybe it’s more like she loved him so much she still can’t bear to think he’s gone. You’d never know it now but she was lively and fun when he was alive. It was a tragedy he was killed and never even knew you was on the way.’
Alison gulped. ‘Would you tell me a bit about him?’
Fred thought for a moment. ‘Well, you’ve got his hair colour. Now you’ve got it cut different it’s more obvious. But what I really meant was you’re like him in character. I know I can trust you. I never had any doubts even on that first day in the shop. It’s how you are. He was like that too. Once he decided he was your friend, on your side, he stuck to it. He used to keep an eye out for me as he was a couple of years older and believe it or not I was a skinny little thing at school.’
Alison smiled. It was hard to picture that. ‘Go on. Mum never says anything about him and my sisters can’t really remember.’
‘He was fun to be around. He always had his own opinions about things, never took anyone else’s view unless he’d reasoned it out for himself. So when he was called up he thought it was the right thing to go and fight. That’s a comfort to me, knowing he believed in the cause. I missed him dreadful for years, so heaven knows what it was like for Cora.’ He took a sip of the cool drink. ‘That’s why I know we’ll make a good team. You’re so like him.’
Alison gave a small smile. It was the best thing he could have said to her. ‘Thank you, Fred,’ she managed to say. ‘I’m so glad to know that. Thank you.’
‘How did it go?’ asked Terry. He’d got back from his shift in time to collect June from her friend’s, and was now bouncing the little girl on his knee. ‘Did the camera work?’
‘I think so,’ said Linda as she put down her bag and swept off the matching hat with its little veil. She was exhausted, having got up early to get to the wedding, and then getting a crowded train back. Her feet were killing her and she flopped onto a chair before pulling her daughter into her arms. ‘Have you had a good day, June? It’s past your bedtime. Daddy’s being very naughty, spoiling you.’ She sent her husband a meaningful look.
‘June didn’t want to go to bed without seeing you,’ he said easily. ‘We’ll go up now. Then you can tell me all about it.’
Linda s
ank into an armchair as Terry carried their daughter upstairs. She was glad of the break, and June was such a daddy’s girl it would be a treat for her. She wondered how to explain it to her that she’d have a cousin soon. She could hardly believe it herself.
She’d been shocked to hear of Alison’s pregnancy and then the hasty wedding. She’d only had her mother and Hazel’s full side of the story but however you told it, it was a sorry tale. Yet her little sister had seemed determined to go ahead and marry old Fred. Maybe if her much-improved looks were anything to go by, things were going to get better for her at last. Linda sighed. She was very fond of her youngest sister, and had always seen it as her place to stand up for her. Now she was too far away to make much difference. Clearly events had moved on without her. Defending her sister had been quite a responsibility and now Fred could take on that job. While on the one hand she would have loved to stay around for longer to see if she could help out, she reminded herself that she had more than enough on her plate at home. It wasn’t her place to interfere, not any longer.
But Alison was pregnant. It was so unfair. If Fred hadn’t stepped in she wouldn’t have been able to cope with or keep the baby. Yet she and Terry couldn’t conceive a brother or sister for June. Another month had passed with her monthlies being late and again she’d got her hopes up, but it was a false alarm. Terry had taken another risk and accepted an even bigger illicit delivery, which had given her many sleepless nights, but still, they were now well set up to move house and provide for another child. It must be the worry of what Terry was doing that made her unable to conceive. Linda felt trapped in the cycle with no way out. She had to have another baby, she simply had to.
