by Annie Groves
Olive wasn’t sure, but whatever the reason, she had noticed a definite calm about Dulcie of late, a serenity Olive herself had only experienced when pregnant with Tilly. For the time being, she would keep her suspicions to herself. But one thing she did know, there hadn’t been a wedding in this house since her own and no matter what, it was a call for celebration. Dulcie seemed happy enough, she thought; and that was all that mattered.
‘No I’m perfectly happy to go from here, Olive; it’s all I’ve ever wanted.’ Dulcie didn’t tell anybody that she and her mother were not on speaking terms any more.
‘And,’ Olive said, her face brightening even more, ‘Dulcie isn’t the only one who has a surprise.’ She laughed out loud when the girls clamoured for her good news. ‘Tilly will be home on Friday – won’t it be wonderful if she arrives in time for the wedding?’
The whoops of delight were deafening as Olive produced a half-full bottle of sherry from the sideboard that had been left over from the previous Christmas. But their cries of happiness were cut short when a knock on the door heralded the arrival of Nancy Black, who wanted to know what all the noise and fuss was about.
‘That is quick,’ she said when she was told of Dulcie’s forthcoming nuptials. ‘Is there a reason for that?’
‘Yes,’ said Dulcie, suddenly feeling wicked. ‘David and I want to make mad passionate love.’ She knew Nancy would be scandalised, and realised that David would be thrilled if he’d known. As shrieks of delight sent Nancy scurrying back to her own house without the celebratory sherry she had been offered, Dulcie said with an emphatic nod to the newly slammed front door, ‘So stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Mrs Black.’
‘Oh Dulcie you are a one,’ Olive laughed, giving her another hug. ‘You’ll never change.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’ Dulcie smiled, quieter now.
‘Come in and let me have a good look at you,’ Olive declared holding out her arms as Dulcie entered the front room. ‘Oh yes, that colour suits you a treat – you look beautiful, David is a very lucky man,’ she continued, admiring Dulcie’s smart new dove-grey edge-to-edge coat.
‘That must have set you back a lot of coupons,’ Sally said, examining the square-shouldered coat that looked stunning on Dulcie, and even though it had to conform to the rules of utility clothing, she wore it like a film star. Carrying the chic, classic style to perfection Dulcie had teamed it with a matching dove-grey hat, its upturned brim sitting at an angle on the side of her head, allowing her glamorous blonde hair to sweep up over the crown of her head and form soft curls that framed her forehead above expertly pencilled eyebrows and thick mascaraed lashes.
Audrey Windle came into the front room where everybody was gathered, her lips forming a breathless ‘O’ as she handed Dulcie a small posy of marvellously fragrant freesia surrounded by the delicate white flowers she said were called Queen Anne’s lace and which were still growing in the vicarage garden, filling the room with their wonderful perfume.
Sally’s eyes widened as she proclaimed that there was never a more glamorous bride this side of the silver screen. Dulcie, taking the posy and inhaling deeply before turning to the mirror to check her make-up for the third time in ten minutes, nodded in agreement.
Her pregnancy was not yet in evidence and as well as the bridal bouquet, Dulcie knew the cleverly chosen swinging fullness of the coat would hide any expansion her condition had caused, although she didn’t have time to dwell when Mrs Windle brought in her wedding present of lovely scented soap she had saved since before the war started, along with a colander containing a bag of sugar, a quarter pound of tea, a tin opener and a bread knife; things that would be more useful than a china dog or a crystal vase, she said with a little embarrassed laugh, and Dulcie hugged her. Scented soap, she hadn’t had that for months!
‘Oh, this is the best present I’ve ever had,’ she cried, smelling the delicate aroma.
‘The car’s here.’ Sally’s face was a picture when she slipped the freshly starched lace curtain to one side and stared past a group of onlookers that lined the curb, gazing in awe at the vision that was David’s polished dark maroon Bentley.
‘Oh, Dulcie, look at that!’ Sally exclaimed. ‘Look at what David has sent you.’
As much as Dulcie tried to act nonchalant at the sight of such a magnificent vehicle she couldn’t stop the little shriek of glee escaping. She was absolutely thrilled David had not only kept the gleaming Bentley, suspecting he would never again drive it himself, but sent it to pick them up for the register office.
‘My word,’ she breathed, ‘we’ll all fit in that!’
‘And a good thing too, otherwise we will be late,’ Olive said, looking nervously at the clock once more. She had hoped that Tilly would be home in time for the ceremony, but the trains were running so erratically at the moment there was no saying what time she would arrive. ‘I suppose we’d better be making tracks otherwise David will think you’re not coming.’
‘I’m asserting my prerogative,’ Dulcie laughed, although secretly she really didn’t want to keep David waiting – and she couldn’t wait to slip into that luxurious car, even if it was only going to be used for today. She assumed it would be garaged after the ceremony, due to petrol shortages, at least until after the war.
‘Oh, it must be lovely to be able to drive such a car,’ Dulcie breathed.
‘I could always teach you,’ Olive said. Her time as a WVS driver had given her the confidence to handle anything. ‘There’s no point in letting a good car like that go to waste, or worse, be sold off when David will need it now, more than ever.’
‘Oh, Olive, you are a dear, thank you so much. I can’t wait to tell David.’
Olive could tell that Dulcie was nervous by the way she kept fixing her bouquet of flowers, making sure the freesia was at the front to give off its perfume to best effect, and she had almost licked the lipstick from her lips. Olive made a little gesture to let her know it needed freshening; anything to make Dulcie’s day perfect.
Olive cast a practised eye over the pristine table, resplendent with sparkling crystal brought out of the display cabinet especially for the occasion, and the silver cutlery gleamed after she had given it an extra polish. And, even though Nancy Black and Mrs Windle had been left in charge of the buffet arrangements and seemed quite capable, Olive still checked that everything was just so. Dulcie, she was pleased to see, made a lovely bride and the room was now filled with milling guests enjoying a small alcoholic welcome to the day’s proceedings. The gentle hubbub of conversation as they waited for the given sign from the driver did not mask the turn of a key in the front door. Olive went to see who it could be.
‘Tilly! Oh, my darling girl, you got here just in time,’ Olive cried as Dulcie, Sally and Agnes hurried into the hallway and exclaimed in unison, causing everybody else to hurtle from the front room. Tears and laughter filled the house when the girls all clung to each other, back together at last.
‘Never mind me, look who else is here,’ Tilly announced, stepping aside. Dulcie’s mouth opened, closed then opened again but no words came. Sally, Agnes and Archie, who was giving Dulcie’s hand in marriage, were all wide-eyed but it was Olive who broke the spell and ushered Rick and his white stick into the house before Dulcie rushed over and threw her arms around her brother’s neck.
‘Rick, oh, my lor’!’ Dulcie cried. ‘What have you gone and done?’
‘I brought him home to see you,’ Tilly said proudly, having escorted Rick, his luggage and her luggage all the way across London. ‘And what’s this?’ she asked, looking around the assembled throng all dressed to the nines. But nobody answered; they were too busy marvelling at Rick’s arrival.
‘Oh, let me look at you.’ Dulcie brought her brother back into the front room and stood him near the table.
‘Something smells good – that must be our Dulcie. What is it, au de boiled ham?’ Rick laughed, to everybody’s relief, particularly Tilly’s, as she’d thought it migh
t be a bit awkward, especially since he hadn’t told his sister he was back in London let alone injured.
‘The last time I saw you,’ Dulcie said as tears streamed down her face, smudging her impeccably applied make-up, but she didn’t care, ‘you were on the pictures.’
‘Was I?’ Rick chuckled, his arm still around Dulcie’s shoulder as if holding on for reassurance. It must be daunting for him, thought Olive, who had seen men coming home injured from the last war and it was no laughing matter, but Rick seemed to be making the best of it right now.
‘I can’t believe you’re home, especially today,’ cried Dulcie. Her beloved brother was alive. And he was standing here in front of her. And he was in one piece! After what they’d heard and seen on the Pathé newsreel she had spent many a sleepless night worrying and praying he would return safely, having imaginary conversations with him, planning what she would say and what she would do, and now all of that went right out of her head as she threw her arms around him once again, hugging him tightly to her. ‘You were strolling in the desert making a show of yourself and laughing to the camera – I saw you as plain as I’m seeing you now!’
For a moment her wedding was not uppermost in her mind, all she knew was that her brother was home and he was safe and he was … As she stepped back to get a better look at Rick she noticed the white stick for the first time. Surely not, she thought as more tears blurred her vision.
‘Don’t let the stick bother you,’ Rick said in the amiable tones she remembered so well. ‘It might only be temporary and I can see some things, shadows and such, so that’s a good sign, isn’t it, Dulcie?’ There was a long pause and then Rick, as if sensing the discomfort of the assembled company, said in a low voice, ‘C’mon, Dulcie, don’t cry …’
‘I can’t help it, I thought it was the happiest day of my life and you have made it complete.’
‘It’s your big day?’ Rick sounded incredulous, and then he burst out laughing. ‘Well, we have some celebrating to do, gel, and where is everybody? Mum, Dad, Edith?’
‘They’re not coming,’ Dulcie said quietly. ‘I’ll tell you all about it later, but just to let you know, I’m ever so glad you’re here.’
‘Well, what are we waiting for? Wilder will be waiting …’
‘Wilder?’ Dulcie echoed, suddenly coming to her senses. ‘I’m not marrying Wilder …’
‘No?’ Rick and Tilly chorused. ‘Who are you marrying then?’
‘David, of course, don’t tell me you didn’t get my letters?’
Olive laughed and cried all at once, holding Tilly at arm’s length and marvelling at how grown-up she looked in her smart ATS uniform. All the girls were asking and answering questions at the same time. Tilly was as overwhelmed as Rick and was holding onto her cap that was sliding down the back of her head as she tried to catch her breath.
‘You’re getting married?’ Tilly’s eyes were wide in amazement.
‘I can’t leave her alone for five minutes and she’s gone and got herself hitched,’ Rick chuckled. ‘That David is a lucky chap to get you, Dulce.’ The silence in the room was palpable and Rick looked bemused.
‘What did I say?’ He might not be able to see their facial expressions but there was nothing wrong with his ears and the audible gasp that swept the room was plain enough until Tilly spoke up.
‘You are like the big sister I never had and now you’re getting married.’ Her words broke the weighty silence even as a lump unexpectedly formed in her throat almost preventing her from telling Dulcie that she was the best ‘sister’ in the world. ‘Not forgetting Sally and Agnes, of course,’ she laughed as tears of joyful surprise filled her eyes, trying to push the thought of Drew and their wedding that was never going to happen now to the back of her mind. She had imagined that she would be the next bride in number 13.
‘Who is giving you away?’ Tilly eventually managed to say, her words coming out in a great rush as Dulcie’s father was nowhere to be seen.
‘Rick will do the honours, I’m sure,’ said Archie, conscious it was only right her brother should have the duty now; he smiled and gave Dulcie a proud nod of approval.
‘I’m having nothing to do with that family of mine ever again,’ said Dulcie to her brother, ‘except you of course.’
Tilly looked at her beloved mum without saying a word, knowing that it must have been a last resort for Dulcie to exclude her own mother from her wedding. Then Dulcie turned to Olive, took her hand and held it.
‘You have all been more like a family to me and cared for me more than my own did – they couldn’t wait to get rid of me except Rick, and my sister is the last person I would want at my wedding. No,’ Dulcie continued determinedly, ‘I only want the people around me who …’ She left the rest of the statement hanging in the air as the car horn sounded outside.
‘It looks like it’s time to go,’ Dulcie said in a whisper, smiling up at her brother.
‘Maybe you would like to redo your make-up before you go, Dulcie?’ Olive suggested, handing Dulcie her make-up bag. ‘Right,’ she went on as Archie came forward, resplendent in his number one dress uniform in honour of the day and offered her his arm and to cover her obvious flurry of embarrassment she said quickly, ‘let’s be on our way. Tilly, drop your bag upstairs and off we go.’
‘I won’t be two ticks,’ Tilly said, hurrying up the stairs to put her kit bag away, then, from the top step she called, ‘Shall I put my stuff in my old room or shall I use Dulcie’s room for the weekend?’
‘No!’ cried Agnes with barely disguised alarm. ‘Put it in our room! I want to hear all about the ATS.’ She was very red-faced when everybody laughed.
David, magnificent in air-force blue, his shoes highly polished, his fighter pilot cap on his knee, sat in the wheelchair waiting for Dulcie’s sweeping entrance into the foyer of the register office. When he caught sight of her his face beamed with happiness, especially as she approached him smiling.
‘You look stunning, my darling,’ he whispered, his eyes gleaming with love as she bent to kiss him. ‘Please excuse me for not getting up.’
‘David,’ she said excitedly, ‘this is my brother, Rick, he’s home until his eyes get better.’ It hadn’t occurred to her that Rick’s eyes might never be as good as they once were.
‘We can compare war wounds later,’ David laughed, not taking his eyes from his beautiful bride. He had never felt as proud in all his life as he did now.
Dulcie looked anxious, Olive noted as she watched them both; the girl’s usual brash exterior seemed to have deserted her and in its place the vulnerability she always kept so well hidden had now surfaced as she moved closer to her future husband, gently placing her hand on his good arm secured around her waist. His best man, an RAF pal, was at the back of the wheelchair ready to push David inside the register office when they were summoned.
Smiling up at his bride-to-be, David said, ‘I don’t think I have ever seen a more beautiful woman on her wedding day and I am the happiest, luckiest man alive.’
Once inside, the small gathering settled into their seats, anticipating the lovely ceremony, when the registrar told their guests that David and Dulcie had requested they exchange their own vows and not the traditional ones. There was a gasp of stunned attentiveness when David, with the initial help of his best man and two walking sticks, managed to stand unaided to make his vows. Dulcie’s eyes, shining like diamonds, could not hide her thrill of delight.
David had been practising standing on his new legs for months, and when Dulcie agreed to marry him it spurred him on to surprise her on their wedding day, he told the small gathering, and ensure he stood up to marry the woman he had loved for so long.
‘I had to be able to look into your beautiful eyes when you become my wife,’ he whispered to Dulcie, ‘and I asked the boffins to make them a few inches taller – I quite fancy being a six-footer.’ He gave a gentle laugh, never once taking his eyes from his adored bride.
Olive and the girls sat teary-eyed
as Rick gave Dulcie’s hand to her brave young barrister with the big future ahead of him, and the lump in their throats grew ever larger when Dulcie, in an unfamiliar gentle voice that was just above a whisper, made her vows.
‘I, Dulcie, take you, David, to be my lawfully wedded husband, my lifelong friend, my faithful confidant and my love, from this day forward. In the presence of our friends, I offer you my sincere promise to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as sorrow. I promise to love you, support you, to honour and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you, and to cherish you for as long as we both shall live.’
As their vows were exchanged a single happy teardrop trailed down Dulcie’s face and landed on the gold band David had just slipped onto the third finger of her left hand. And she knew he meant every word when he lifted her hand and kissed it, sealing their love forever.
As David settled once more into his wheelchair, the register office door opened. Everybody, including Dulcie whose eyes were full of starry delight, turned towards the creaking noise of the door hinges, but her new-found happiness was short-lived and the ecstatic smile froze on her face when she saw her sister, Edith, standing in the open doorway, her eyes swollen and red-rimmed. Immediately Dulcie knew there was something very wrong and her guilty thoughts flew to her mother or her father whom she had deliberately ignored on her wedding day.
‘I’m sorry to interrupt the happy occasion.’ Edith looked directly at Dulcie with a glint of something resembling revulsion and, with her ruby lips turned into a sneer, she said, ‘It may not be of any consequence to you now but I felt that you should know. Wilder is dead!’
‘Well, of all the spiteful cats,’ Sally fumed when they got back to Olive’s house, watching the stunned bride and groom make the best of a bad job and cut their single-tiered wedding cake that Olive had managed to find enough fruit for, their hearts no longer in the celebrations. ‘She could have waited until after the ceremony was over before she blurted such news.’
