When Ella came through to tell them a meal was on the table, they were sitting silently, and she said brightly, ‘You won’t have to be too late if you’re taking Lizann back to her lodgings before you go home …’
Lizann stood up. ‘No, I’ll be all right myself.’
‘I’ll drop you off on my way,’ Dan assured her, also rising.
‘Not yet,’ his sister laughed. ‘Have your dinner first.’
John, Ella’s husband, was already seated in the dining-room, and he jumped up to shake Lizann’s hand vigorously. ‘I’m pleased you two have got back together again.’
‘But …’ Lizann began, looking helplessly at Dan, who said, ‘Nobody’s more pleased than I am, John.’
Later, on their way to Rosemount Place in the old lorry, Lizann said, accusingly, ‘Dan, why didn’t you correct John? We’re not back together. We’ve never been together, not really.’
‘What would you call this, then?’ he smiled.
She paused for only a few seconds. ‘Together,’ she giggled, a warmth sweeping through her in spite of the icy blasts of wind coming through the ill-fitting window of the ancient Ford.
Chapter Thirty-four
Over the winter, with less work to be done on the farm, Lizann had seen quite a lot of Dan and was well aware of how deeply he loved her. It was in his eyes, in his soft, caressing voice, but … At Christmas, Ella and John had clearly thought marriage was imminent, and Mrs Melville also seemed to think so, but she herself was still not sure.
The realization came for her one Sunday in March. She had been lying in bed looking forward to seeing him in a few hours, when it dawned on her it wasn’t just pleasure she felt. Her heart was beating faster at the thought of him, her inside was behaving in a way that only being in love could explain. It wasn’t the sharp aching love she had felt for George – which she had been waiting for – it was a warm, comforting sort of love, a mature love, a thirty-year-old woman’s love, and she had been last to recognize it.
Dan had respected her wish by not proposing again, and she couldn’t bring the subject up herself. Anyway, she couldn’t go back to the farm as his wife with Meggie Thow still there. The housekeeper would think she’d been right in what she thought before.
This problem was resolved at the end of April, when Dan told her that Meggie had died. ‘Poor lonely woman,’ she said. ‘Easter Duncairn was her whole world, and she was terrified you’d take a wife and put her out.’
‘Dear Lizann,’ he murmured, ‘you have a heart of gold.’
The moment was too sweet to let slip, and she whispered shyly, ‘It’s all yours, Dan.’
There was a quick intake of breath before he said, ‘Do you mean that?’
‘It’s been all yours for weeks. I was waiting for you to …’
‘And I’ve been waiting for some sign …’ He took a step towards her, then hesitated. ‘I’d like to kiss you … but …’
Knowing that he was afraid she might object to being kissed in such a public place, she smiled, ‘What’s stopping you?’
And so, standing on Union Street’s wide pavement, thronged with men, women and children out for a Sunday stroll on this sunny spring afternoon, he kissed her. ‘You’ll marry me now?’ he asked, presently.
‘As soon as you want.’
They took the tramcar to Great Western Road, where one look at their rapturous faces was enough to make Ella rise to hug Lizann. ‘Oh, thank goodness! I was beginning to think I’d have to hit the pair of you over the head with a hammer to knock some sense into you.’
Her husband rose to shake Dan’s hand. ‘So you managed to propose at long last?’
Chuckling, Dan said, ‘It was more of a combined effort.’
In a few minutes they were all sitting with a glass of the champagne John had managed to buy somewhere in readiness, and after toasting the happiness of the couple, Ella said, ‘Have you decided when and where the wedding’s to be?’
‘As soon as possible.’ Dan glanced at Lizann who said, ‘I’d like it to be here in Aberdeen.’
‘Wherever you want, my sweet,’ he smiled.
‘You can see my minister if you like, Dan,’ Ella suggested. ‘Stay over tonight, and you can arrange everything tomorrow.’
‘I want a quiet wedding,’ Lizann said, timidly, ‘with a wee do for my friends afterwards … if it wouldn’t cost too much.’
Dan smiled adoringly. ‘I don’t care what it costs if you’re happy.’
Ella raised her eyebrows to her husband and stood up. ‘I think we’re superfluous at the moment, John.’
‘I think you’re right,’ he grinned, rising to follow her out.
Lizann gave a long, happy sigh. ‘This doesn’t seem real.’
‘You’re not having second thoughts, I hope?’
‘No, it’s just … now we’ve come right out and said we love each other, everything’s happening so quickly.’
‘Would you rather we waited? It’s up to you, my darling.’
‘No, I don’t want to wait. We’ve wasted enough time as it is, and it’s all my fault. I should have accepted when you proposed before.’
‘You didn’t love me then.’
‘I must have, I just didn’t know it. I was in a bit of a state at that time, don’t forget.’
He stood up and pulled her to her feet, tilting her face up to kiss her. ‘I’ll make you happy, my sweet, sweet Lizann. I’ll do everything in my power to please you.’
When Dan took her back to her lodgings, Mrs Melville was delighted at what they had to tell her. ‘I’ll be sorry to lose the best lodger I ever had,’ she said, then added mischievously, ‘even though my house always reeked of fish.’
In bed, Lizann wondered how she would shape as a farmer’s wife. Would Dan’s workers resent him marrying the girl who had once been his maid? Would some of them remember that she had once sold fish at their doors? Whatever happened, she would never regret marrying him, and she would give him the love he’d been starved of for so long.
* * *
‘I wondered how long it would be before you saw sense,’ Gladys grinned, when Lizann told her she was going to marry Dan.
‘I wasn’t sure I loved him,’ Lizann explained.
‘I knew you loved him, right from the day he turned up here.’
‘Liar,’ Lizann laughed.
‘Honest, and if you’d dithered about much longer, I’d have told you to pull your socks up. When’s the wedding?’
‘Dan’s going to try to make it three weeks from Saturday. His sister’s going to arrange everything else – I’m too excited. It’s to be in Ella’s kirk, and I wanted you to be matron-of-honour, but when Dan said he was having John as best man, I felt obliged to ask Ella. You’re invited to the Douglas Hotel after, though – you and whoever else wants to come.’
Gladys turned round and shouted, ‘D’you hear that? We’re all invited to the Douglas after Lizann’s wedding.’
Lizann was swamped with congratulations, plus a few remarks and jokes rather too near the knuckle for her liking, though she took them all in good part. As she observed to Gladys later, ‘What a great lot they are. The best set of friends I could wish for.’
‘You’ll maybe not be saying that when they let their hair down in the Douglas. Are Dan’s folk easy offended?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Lizann’s face grew anxious as a new thought struck her. ‘I won’t get a feet-washing, will I?’
‘No, it’s just men that get that,’ Gladys assured her.
Having taken Gladys at her word, Lizann had a shock when the hooter blew on the evening before the great day and she was whisked to the cloakroom and draped in an old lace curtain which someone had taken in. ‘What’s going on?’ she gasped.
‘We’re dressing the bride,’ she was informed, as someone put a garland of newspaper roses round her head.
‘Don’t be scared,’ Gladys whispered. ‘They won’t blacken you.’
The last embellishment was a la
rge feather duster stuck into her hand as a bouquet, and then she was carried into the yard and hoisted on to a lorry. This time it was girls and women who jumped on with handbells and pans held aloft. She knew what to expect, and covered her ears as the lorry moved out slowly into the street. The din made the workers who were coming out of the neighbouring yards join in the cheering, and as they went over Victoria Bridge and along South Market Street, everyone they passed shouted out their good wishes. The fun became frenetic when they went up the steep hill of Market Street itself – the floor of the ‘wedding carriage’ was awash with brine and bits of fish, and it was all the ‘bride’ and her ‘attendants’ could do to keep their feet.
‘How’re you doing?’ Gladys yelled, as they turned into Union Street, seething with people bound for home.
‘I’m surviving,’ Lizann yelled back, ‘but what’ll folk think?’
‘They’ll think we’re mad! No,’ Gladys added, seeing her friend’s look of shame, ‘they’ve seen this lots of times. All the yards and factories do it.’
The lorry sailed majestically up the main thoroughfare, often having to stop behind a tram when it picked up or deposited passengers, and Lizann soon saw that the onlookers were enjoying the spectacle. When a group of workmen shouted, ‘Give’s a smile, lass,’ she grinned, waving her brightly-coloured ‘bouquet’, and was rewarded by cries of ‘Good luck’, and one ribald, ‘Watch you dinna land wi’ a honeymoon bairn.’
At the end of Union Street they turned left into Holburn Street, just as long but not quite so busy. The crowds had dwindled to an odd person here and there by the time they reached the Bridge of Dee, where the driver made another left turn to go along North Esplanade West. All the yards here had emptied long before, so he put on a little spurt and in only minutes they were back at Sinclair Road and his cargo of women all jumped off.
‘That’s something for you to remember,’ he joked to Lizann as she was extricating herself from her ‘bridal’ accoutrements.
‘Yes,’ she laughed. ‘I’ll never forget it, and thanks, Davey.’
‘Nae bother,’ he grinned.
‘You’ll come to the Douglas tomorrow?’
‘We’ll all be there.’
‘Great! Well, I’d better go and get on my coat, for my landlady’ll be wondering why I’m so late.’
When she went into her digs, Mrs Melville said, ‘I thought they’d get up to something. I’ve seen brides being taken round before.’
‘I wish you’d told me. I didn’t know what was happening, but it was good fun. I’ll miss them.’
‘You’ll have your man to keep you occupied,’ her landlady smiled. ‘Is he coming to see you tonight?’
‘He’s coming to collect the case with all my clothes, and he’ll only stay a wee while. You know, I can’t believe everything’s going so well for us – even the war’s taken a turn for the better. It’ll all be over soon.’
The newspapers were jubilant over the Allied advance into France in the four days since D-Day. Mrs Melville was sure that the situation was not as rosy as some reports would have it, but kept her misgivings to herself.
Dan was very amused by Lizann’s account of her ‘wedding’ parade. When he was leaving she went down to the street entrance with him, her eyes popping when she saw the shining black car instead of the rickety lorry. ‘What …?’ she gasped, as he laid the suitcase on the back seat.
‘I couldn’t take my bride home in an old Ford,’ he grinned. ‘And I can’t get away from the farm long enough to give you a honeymoon, so I hired the car as the next best thing.’
She flung her arms round his neck. ‘Oh Dan, I love you.’
‘I should hope so. You’ll be Mrs Fordyce by this time tomorrow.’
Remembering that they would probably be going to bed about this time the next night, Lizann was too embarrassed to say anything, which was just as well because Dan couldn’t have waited any longer to kiss her.
When she went upstairs, her face was so radiant that Mrs Melville gave a deep sigh. ‘Oh lassie, I’m happy for you. You’re getting a good man, a gentleman, and I know you’ll never regret it.’
‘There’s just one thing I regret,’ Lizann smiled. ‘I wish I’d said yes the first time he proposed. I’ve wasted so much time … but if I’d never come to Aberdeen I wouldn’t have met you.’
‘And that’s another thing,’ her landlady said, a little tearfully now. ‘You’ve done me a great honour asking me to give you away.’
‘I’m honoured that you agreed. You’ve been like a mother to me, Mrs Melville, and there’s nobody I’d rather have to give me away.’
‘We’d better get to bed. We’ll need all our beauty sleep if we’re to look our best tomorrow. I just hope it’s a fine day.’
It was more than fine, it was a perfect June day, the sun streaming through the window as, one after the other, they washed at the kitchen sink. Fully dressed, Lizann took one last look in the wardrobe mirror, and smiled in satisfaction. The straw picture hat was the same shade as the powder-blue two-piece. She hadn’t been too sure in the shop under the electric light, but in daylight it matched exactly. Looking at her reflection from every angle, she was positive that the costume made her look slimmer, or maybe it was the cuban heels of her court shoes, which certainly made her taller. Picking up the navy clutch bag, she went into the kitchen.
‘Oh, Lizann, lass, you’re a perfect picture,’ Mrs Melville breathed.
‘You’re very elegant yourself,’ Lizann smiled.
The grey coat-dress was very smart, and the silk, swathed turban sat on the silver hair – permed and blue-rinsed for this occasion – as if it had been specially fitted. ‘I’ll not need a coat, will I?’ her landlady asked, anxiously. ‘I’ve only the one I wear every day.’ After buying her own dress, Mrs Melville had handed over all the coupons she had left, which had enabled Lizann to buy a decent trousseau … not flimsy nightdresses and lingerie this time, though. She was older now, more sensible.
‘It’s too warm for a coat.’ And when Lizann stepped out of the taxi at the church, she was thankful that she had chosen something lightweight to wear; she would have melted in the heat if it had been any heavier.
Ella came forward when they went through the door and walked behind them up the aisle to where Dan and John were waiting, and the ceremony began. After placing Lizann’s hand in Dan’s, Mrs Melville stood back, fishing her handkerchief out of her sleeve to wipe away the tears which persisted in edging out.
The ceremony did not take long, and the bride and groom walked out hand in hand, to be whisked off in a taxi to the Douglas Hotel, where, as only the fish workers knew how, the real celebrations took off. Even with food on ration, the hotel – helped by items provided by Ella, Dan and Mrs Melville – had laid on an appetizing meal, which was eaten amid a joyful hum of voices and loud cackles of laughter at obviously risqué jokes. Dan had been disappointed at not being able to get more whisky and other drinks for the toasts, but looking around, Lizann couldn’t help smiling at the amount of bottles on the tables. Most of the men must have taken something in with them – bought on the black market, more than likely – so it promised to be a very convivial affair.
It was hilarious, everyone determined to have a good time and to make sure everyone else did, too. Eventually it came time for the cake to be cut. It was more Madeira than wedding cake – Mrs Melville having made it from an egg-less, fruit-less recipe in the Gert and Daisy Cook Book – but Dan guided Lizann’s hand on the knife as if it were a three-tiered confection par excellence. Cries of ‘Speech! Speech!’ made him blush, but he kept standing when Lizann sat down.
‘First of all,’ he began, letting his eyes rove round the now hushed assembly, ‘on behalf of my wife and myself …’ He had to wait until the foot-stamping died down before he could carry on. ‘… I’d like to thank you for making our wedding day one we shall never forget. I would also like to thank the matron-of-honour and the best man for executing their duties so well �
��’ more cheering ‘… and last, but by no means least, my undying thanks to Mrs Melville for giving Lizann to me.’
He sat down to thunderous applause, and when it died away, John stood up. ‘Now it’s my turn,’ he smiled. ‘I didn’t realize until Gladys told me that the best man has to read out all the telegrams, but here goes.’
Lifting the papers in front of him, which he had already arranged in what he thought would be the most suitable order, he went through the straightforward good wishes from some of Dan’s workers and the women who had worked with Lizann, then he said, ‘Now we come to the more colourful messages. First, “To Lizann and Dan – May all your troubles be little ones – Davey.” ‘
‘He drove the lorry yesterday,’ Lizann whispered to Dan. ‘That’s him sitting at the far end of the table on the left.’
‘Next,’ John went on, once the clapping stopped, ‘ “May your joys be as deep as the snow in the glen, and your troubles as few as the teeth of a hen.” That’s from Mr Birnie.’
‘He’s the manager,’ Lizann whispered. ‘His wife’s ill so he couldn’t come, but it was nice of him to send a telegram, wasn’t it?’
John was grinning broadly as he held up a hand for silence. ‘There are two more, gems from the pens of poets who prefer to remain anonymous.’ Taking up an orator’s stance, he recited:
‘We all fell in love with Lizann,
We were sure she was needing a man,
But now she is leaving,
And leaving us grieving,
For the man she has chosen is Dan.’
The tumultuous applause increased when an apprentice admitted proudly that he and the other mechanics had taken their whole half-hour off one dinnertime to make this up, and John had to bang the table before he could read out the final item.
‘We’ll look for the sun, we’ll look for the rain,
We’ll look for Lizann, but all in vain.
She’s left us for love, for a farmhouse so nice –
She’ll gut no bloody fish now she’s Mrs Fordyce.’
John looked up and, doing his best to make himself heard above the gales of laughter, shouted, ‘It just says “From all the coopers”.’
The Girl with the Creel Page 47
