When Wishes Come True

by Jonker, Joan

  Milly’s giggle joined Cyril’s hearty laughter and the two women smiled at each other, knowing in that moment they had each found a friend for life.

  It was the day of the wedding, and the Lister-Sinclairs’ house was all hustle and bustle. There was excitement in the air, smiles on every face. Evelyn had spent the night there before leaving for the church with Cyril, who was giving her away. She had written to her parents telling them she was to be married and hoping they would make an attempt at a reconciliation. But if they were to be reconciled, it had to be because they wanted to make amends to her, not because she was marrying into a very wealthy family. So in her letter she hadn’t said who she was marrying, just told them the name of the church and the date and time. She had asked if they would kindly reply to Philip’s address within the week. But there had been no reply. Evelyn knew if she had told them who she was marrying they would have been to see her the day they received the letter. She was sad, but it proved they had never really loved her. Their only love was for money.

  ‘Evelyn, ye’re miles away!’ Bessie said, coming into the dressing room. ‘But I’m glad to see ye’re not a nervous wreck, I’d hate to have yer fainting on me.’

  ‘I was thinking how lucky I am, Bessie. My life has changed so much I sometimes wonder if I’m dreaming.’

  ‘Yer’ve got the rest of yer life to dream, sweetheart. Right now it’s time to put your dress on. I’ve just finished getting Milly ready – she was so excited she couldn’t stand still, and I have to say she looks a picture. I know I’m biased when it comes to your daughter, but she looks good enough to eat.’ Bessie stopped to draw breath. She’d been on the go since she got out of bed, seeing to herself first, then dressing Matilda and doing her hair. And, wonder of wonders, Matilda had even asked her to put some powder and rouge on her face. She was a different woman these days, preferred to be called Tilly, laughed a lot and was more outgoing. And she looked a real beauty today in a dress of soft silk which fitted her to perfection. She had allowed Bessie to choose the material and colour, and not been disappointed. The dress was a pale beige, and she’d bought a wide-brimmed hat in a deeper shade, with gloves and shoes to match.

  ‘Well, that’s my bit of dreaming done, sweetheart, so let’s get you ready.’ Bessie reached for the dress which was hanging outside the large wardrobe. ‘Lift yer arms up so I can get it on without creasing it.’ Five minutes later, Bessie stood back and sighed with pleasure. The dress was a dream of beautiful ivory-coloured soft silk. There were yards of it in the skirt, and the nipped-in waist showed Evelyn’s figure off to perfection. It had long sleeves which tapered off to the wrist, and the low round neck was set off by the link of pearls Philip had bought her as a wedding present. Bessie filled up, and a tear trickled down her face. ‘Oh, sweetheart, you look lovely, and I’m so proud of yer. If it weren’t for mucking yer dress up, I’d squeeze yer to death.’

  ‘Will you do my hair, please, Bessie? You’re much better at it than I am. And then all I need is a touch of rouge because I look a little pale. I’ll leave the hat until it’s time to leave for the church.’

  The door opened and in came Matilda and Milly. The girl was hanging on to her grandmother’s hand until she saw her mother. Then she ran forward. ‘You look like a fairy, Mother, really beautiful.’ She did a twirl. ‘And hasn’t Auntie Bessie made me the most lovely dress? I wish Jack was going to the church so he could see me.’

  Bessie’s mind flashed back a few months, to the day Milly had dressed in her mother’s clothes and had the street out. ‘There’s nothing to stop you putting it on for him one day, sweetheart. Remember, yer like getting dressed up?’

  Milly smiled, knowing right away what her Auntie Bessie was talking about. ‘Mother, what have you done with the trunk that was in your bedroom? I often wondered what was in it.’

  ‘It’s in Philip’s apartment at the moment, I had nowhere else to put it. Why do you ask?’

  ‘If you don’t want it, could I have it, please?’

  ‘Of course you can, dear, but why would you want it?’

  ‘Because then I’ll have something of yours, and I’d like that.’

  Bessie turned her head so she couldn’t see the tears that welled up in Evelyn’s eyes. It wasn’t sadness the two women felt, it was happiness, for although Milly might never again live with her mother, she had now let it be known she would always think of her as her mother.

  ‘Come on, let’s get moving,’ Bessie said, ‘we’ve got a wedding to go to.’

  Philip sat in the front pew with his best friend Clive, who was acting as his best man. ‘She’s late, isn’t she?’

  ‘Calm down, old boy, we were very early, at your insistence. Anyway, it’s a bride’s prerogative to keep the groom waiting.’ Clive glanced sideways at his friend. He’d never thought to see Philip as nervous as he was today. Mind you, having met Evelyn he could understand why. Clive was happy his friend had found the woman of his dreams and was settling down.

  Philip turned in his seat to see the church was filling up. He was about to turn back when he saw two women sitting in a pew at the very back of the church. They were on Evelyn’s side, but he had never seen them before. Then a thought struck him. ‘I’ve just seen someone I want to speak to, Clive, I won’t be a minute.’

  Clive frowned. ‘This is most unusual, old boy, the bride could be here at any moment.’

  ‘I’ll be back before then, I promise.’ With that, Philip walked towards the back of the church, surprising guests who were already seated. All heads were turned as he walked into the next to last pew, where he bent to talk to two women who were strangers to everyone except Bessie.

  ‘Would I be wrong in saying you are Rita and Aggie?’ Philip smiled when he saw the women look at each other, surprise on their faces. ‘It’s all right, ladies, I’m Philip.’

  In a daze Rita and Aggie shook his hand. ‘Ay, lad, shouldn’t yer be down by the altar?’ Aggie asked. ‘Yer don’t want to miss yer own wedding, do yer?’

  ‘I have wanted to meet you for some time now, and I was hoping I could talk to you at the reception. However, Evelyn said she had a feeling you might not come to it, that you may sneak away from the church after the service.’

  ‘I won’t say we didn’t think about it,’ Rita said, truthfully. ‘Yer see, me and Aggie would feel like fish out of water, not knowing anyone and … well, we wouldn’t fit in.’

  ‘What nonsense,’ he said. ‘You have been invited as our friends and I would be disappointed if you let me down. In fact, I won’t go back to my best man, who will be tearing his hair out by now, until you promise faithfully you’ll come to the reception? A car has been booked to take you with Bessie.’

  Rita heard one car draw up outside just then. ‘Here’s Evelyn! Quick, get down to the altar. We’ll come, cross my heart and hope to die.’

  Oscar waited until Philip was standing by his best man, then whispered, ‘Are they coming to the reception?’

  Philip nodded just as the organ started to play and all eyes turned to see Evelyn on Cyril’s arm, walking down the aisle. She looked so elegant and beautiful. Cyril felt proud as he smiled at his friends. Gwen followed behind with Milly, looking very pretty in matching dresses, their bouquets of pink flowers matching the floral headdresses. Milly was smiling, not in the least shy. She was happy, and proud that her mother looked so beautiful. And she was glad her mother had Uncle Philip, ’cos he was nice. Then she saw her Auntie Bessie and waved, mouthing the words, ‘I love you,’ and blew a kiss to her grandma. She was a very lucky girl having so many people to love her.

  Philip thought his heart would stop as he saw the woman he adored walking towards him with a faint smile on her face. She was the picture of perfection and he felt he must be the luckiest man in the world to have won her love. He stepped from the front pew as the couple came abreast, and took Evelyn’s elbow when Cyril smiled and released her arm before taking his seat next to his wife and Bessie. ‘My darling Evelyn, you loo
k so beautiful,’ Philip told her quietly. ‘I will love you for the rest of my life.’

  There were tears shed, but once the service was over and the guests spilled into the church yard for photographs there was much jostling and laughing. The first to be photographed were the bride and groom, standing in the arched entrance to the church and looking the very picture of happiness. Evelyn was a radiant bride, Philip a very handsome groom. Then there was another photograph of bride and groom with Milly standing between them. This was followed by close family, then a group photograph which Rita and Aggie were pulled into by Oscar at the request of Evelyn. Then Oscar asked for one to be taken, away from the crowd, of the three friends, Bessie, Rita and Aggie.

  ‘Ooh, er, I wasn’t expecting that, Oscar,’ Aggie said, her bosom rising high with pride. ‘Thanks very much.’

  ‘I’ll make sure you all get a copy,’ he promised them, ‘and that they’re framed for you.’

  ‘Yes, thank yer, Oscar,’ Rita said, ‘it’ll take pride of place on me sideboard.’

  Aggie and her chins were thinking ahead. ‘We’ll get all the neighbours in to see us all dolled up. But they better hadn’t pick the photie up, though, and get all fingermarks on it, or I’ll marmalise them.’ The day had been one that she and her mate would never forget, and it had all been down to Bessie.

  The reception was beautifully laid out, the food delicious. Poor Rita’s side must have been sore with the constant digs she was getting from Aggie. In the end, she said, ‘Aggie, I’ve got eyes in me head, sunshine, I can see what you can see.’

  As the meal progressed there was a lot of laughter, most of it provided by Bessie, Rita, Aggie and Milly. Many friendships were formed that day. As Rita and Aggie realised, not every toff was a snob. And Milly reminded them some friendships would go on forever when she said to Rita, ‘Don’t forget to tell Jack how nice I look.’ Then she grinned. ‘I’ll tell him myself next Saturday.’