by Nicola Slade
‘These are the pearls Jamie gave me.’ She touched the single string round her throat. ‘They belonged to Charlie’s mother, wasn’t it sweet of him?’ She cast another, anxious, look at her reflection. ‘Are you sure it looks all right? Not too girly?’
‘It’s just right,’ her audience chorused and Bobbie gave her an appraising look. ‘No,’ she pronounced, ‘having gone for a wintry-Christmas effect I don’t think you could better it. Your hair looks just right, up like that, with the wreath of leaves and berries and those little white orchids of Jonathan’s, and so does your bouquet, though I say it myself. You look just like the spirit of Christmas – warm and generous and loving and beautiful!’
On this eloquent note Bobbie surpassed herself and was overcome by emotion again, so Julia took charge.
‘Time for the off,’ she said, manhandling the sniffling Bobbie towards the door where Hugh was waiting. ‘Be happy, dearest, darling Finn.’
Finn and Marek walked the short distance across the green to the fourteenth century church, cheered on, it seemed, by half the village who had turned out to greet her. The other half of the village were inside the church as choir, organist, verger and supporting congregation.
‘I want all the proper things,’ Finn had said when she realised she would have to give in and have the wedding they all yearned for. ‘I want Here Comes the Bride and the Wedding March, as well as the King James Bible and the proper prayer book.’ So she and Marek processed up the aisle to the familiar strains.
A collective ‘Aahh!’ met her and she smiled and looked towards the altar to see Charlie and his father splendidly arrayed in full highland dress – Royal Stuart tartan, black velvet jackets, frothing lace, the works. They looked sensational and as she met Charlie’s eyes she saw that he knew it.
‘You look lovely,’ he whispered and grinned as she whispered right back, ‘So do you!’
The vicar smiled benignly at them and began the service, apparently quite calmly, but Julia was concerned.
‘Don’t make a fuss, Julia,’ Finn had said crossly the night before. ‘She says she’ll be fine, she’s got another month to go.’
Julia had her doubts. On arrival at the church she had spotted the vicar holding her back, but the other woman insisted she was fine. Yes, she’d had backache on and off all day, and yes, a touch of indigestion, but not to worry and anyway, she had nearly a month to go. Julia pursed her lips. Old professional instincts died hard, and even though her last midwifery stint was a while back, Julia had a feeling that the vicar was going to cause trouble.
Her feeling was only too justified. There was the usual sigh of relief when nobody leaped up with a just cause or impediment and the vicar had turned to the bride and groom.
‘Wilt thou, Charles Edward … Oh my God!’
Heads jerked up to see the vicar clutching her bulging belly and gazing in dismay at the trickle of water seeping down the steps. After a few moments she shook her head and held up her hand.
‘Sorry about that, folks, I’m fine just now, but we’d better get this show on the road. Ready, Charlie?’
The wedding proceeded at an accelerated pace. It was obvious that the vicar was far from fine and the vows began to be punctuated by groans of pain.
‘Who giveth this woman …. aargh, oh Jesus! … to be married to this man?’
Marek hastily shoved his temporary charge towards her bridegroom and retired in confusion to the pew beside Julia.
And so it went on, the vicar steadfastly refusing to give in, though her words, as well as her moans, were coming faster and faster until the final pronouncement was made in a muted scream.
‘I pronounce that they be man and wife together, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost … Aargh! … Amen!’
‘Is that it?’ Julia demanded, surging forward. ‘All the legal stuff done?’
The vicar nodded, panted for a few seconds, then managed to gasp out, ‘Register, got to be signed ’n witnessed. All ready, but must be done.’
Julia waited for the next contraction then summoned Jamie to the rescue.
‘Let’s get her into the vestry,’ she commanded. ‘I knew that backache was ominous. Somebody call an ambulance and someone else get hold of her husband … he’s an accountant in Southampton, isn’t he?’
‘Can’t walk!’ wailed the labouring vicar.
‘You don’t have to.’ Charlie came to help carry her to the relative privacy of the vestry where she scribbled her name in the register during the next brief pause between contractions.
‘That’s it,’ Julia scrawled her own name after Jamie’s, the other witness, and organised her make-shift labour ward. ‘Jamie, tell the organist to strike up, and get Finn and Charlie safely out of here. Delia, ask if there’s anyone in the congregation who knows about childbirth, and the rest of you’d better make tracks. This won’t take long from the look of it.’
Finn and Charlie were caught between bewilderment and hysterical laughter as Julia assured them that everything was perfectly straightforward and she’d catch up with them at Hugh’s house. As they set off back down the aisle the notes of the Wedding March were hard put to conceal the blood-curdling screams now coming from the vestry, but after exchanging another anxious look, and avoiding the ominous damp patch on the carpet, they made it to the church door just as the screams ceased and were succeeded by the welcome wailing of a very new baby.
As they emerged into the pale winter sunshine the ambulance arrived and the crew rushed in to the church, the driver pausing for a moment.
‘Lemme kiss the bride,’ he winked. ‘Got to be just as lucky as a chimney sweep, hasn’t it? And cleaner.’
He planted a smacking kiss on Finn’s blushing cheek, winked again at Charlie and dashed indoors after his colleague.
‘Well!’ Charlie took a deep breath and clutched his new bride in his arms. ‘Come here, Mrs Stuart. Let me tell you, after that performance I’m not so sure about continuing the Stuart dynasty. Bloody hell, if it was half as painful as it sounded I don’t think I can let you go through it.’
‘Mmm?’ Finn sounded non-committal but inwardly she was counting. Oops! During the dreadful week when Charlie had decamped to Newcastle to sort himself out she had forgotten, in her deep depression, all about taking the pill and although she had resumed after he came back, she had a sneaky feeling it was too late: ten, twelve, no fifteen days overdue, she thought guiltily. It might, of course, be a false alarm, but somehow she didn’t think so.
Hugh posed them in the doorway and started taking photographs, interrupting the proceedings only when the ambulance crew appeared with a dishevelled vicar in a wheelchair, clasping a very angry baby girl in her arms. Waddling alongside Julia was the gang’s bugbear, Mrs Parsons, looking pleased with herself.
‘She was quite helpful,’ Julia confided to Rosemary who raised her eyebrows. The temporary assistant midwife straightened her hat and stared at the two women.
‘See you got yourselves a couple of men,’ she remarked affably as she turned to go. ‘Told you so, didn’t I?’
Julia shrugged as she watched her go, saw her patient into the ambulance and rejoined the wedding party.
‘You’re looking remarkably clean and tidy,’ Finn greeted her with an appraising look up and down. ‘I thought you’d be a complete mess after all that.’
‘Borrowed a surplice off the back of the door,’ Julia answered laconically. ‘I’ve shoved it in a cupboard, heaven knows what the locum vicar will think.’ She grinned at her sister’s scandalised expression and turned to Hugh. ‘All finished, Hugh? Thank God for that, let’s get back to the reception, I think we all deserve a drink.’
Chapter 15
Back at Hugh’s house Charlie and Finn held court while the members of the Hope Springs gang revived their flagging spirits with Delia’s champagne and the buffet spread they had contributed between them, in spite of Julia’s protests.
‘Finn and I weren’t going to do it all
by ourselves,’ she had objected when Sue and Delia showed her their lists. ‘We were just going to get Waitrose or Marks & Spencer to do some of their party platters, it wouldn’t be any trouble. I can’t ask the gang to provide my sister’s wedding reception.’
‘Did anyone ask you?’ Sue inquired severely. ‘Well, then. Seriously, Julia, we all had a mini-meeting and decided we wanted to help out. Finn and Charlie, God help them, are part of the group and they’ve contributed considerably to the excitements lately. Besides, we were originally a barter organisation.’
‘Feeling better?’ Charlie cuddled his bride in one arm and finished his second glass of wine.
‘Me? I was fine; it was you that came over all queasy.’ Finn leaned her head against his shoulder, then drew back to take a better look at him. ‘You look sensational in full highland regalia, Charlie. Why didn’t you tell me? I nearly fainted with the glamour of it all.’
‘Wanted to surprise you,’ he said complacently, then he gave the giggle she found so adorable. ‘Have you taken on board what Hedgehog and Bunny are wearing?’
Finn straightened up and took a look round the room. Her employer and his brother-in-law were standing in the big bay window, in animated conversation with Delia and Rosemary. Hedgehog was immaculate in full morning dress, but like Charlie and his father, Bunny had elected to wear highland dress. Unlike the bridegroom and his paternal best man, he had chosen pink tweed for his kilt.
‘Well, Finn,’ Bunny told her, deadpan, when she accosted him, ‘it was your idea, after all. You were the one who suggested a tweed kilt, weren’t you?’ As she groaned and hit her forehead in self-recrimination, he gave her an injured stare. ‘I thought you’d appreciate it. I spotted the material in Debenham’s and got my mum to make it up for me. Hedge wouldn’t co-operate so he found his outfit in a charity shop for thirty quid.’
‘I give in,’ she told him, beginning to laugh as Charlie came over to them. ‘You’re quite right, it was my fault, and you look great. I’m just grateful you didn’t go the whole hog and have a posy on your sporran.’
‘Don’t think I didn’t want to,’ Bunny warned her. ‘I’m the creative kind, you know, but Hedge thought you wouldn’t like it and he’s too frightened of you to upset you.’
‘Quite right too,’ Finn told him stoutly. ‘Let’s take a look at how everyone else is kitted out. Wow, Delia, you look a million dollars.’
‘Thank you, my dear.’ Delia was wearing another of her Jackie Onassis outfits – an aquamarine wool coat and dress, with matching pillbox over the usual glossy black helmet of hair. ‘We all wanted to put on a good show.’
She spoke nothing less than the truth. From Marek’s antique navy suit to Ursula’s fluffy mohair beret and drooping beige knitted suit, they had turned out in their best. Bobbie, in navy blue, no change there, had splashed out on a pink hat from the hire shop in town. As she bustled about checking the flowers and helping to serve food, her salmon-coloured feathers drooped and clashed with her unusually rosy cheeks but Finn could see that she was supremely happy.
Somebody else who looked blissful was Rosemary Clavering, wearing lavender. She and Hugh appeared to be joined at the hip and the anxious, restless look she had worn when Finn first met her had quite vanished, while Hugh was wearing a proud, proprietorial air as they processed around the room together.
‘All packed?’ Sue Merrill found herself beside Julia. ‘I can’t wait, can you? It’ll be so wonderful to be away from this awful weather. It’s nice today, I admit, but you can’t trust it to last.’
‘I haven’t had a moment to ask you, Sue.’ Julia checked that they were alone. ‘What happened about that young man’s wife?’
She hardly needed Sue to tell her, the sadness in her face was enough.
‘She died two days later,’ Sue said heavily. ‘I sent a card and a donation to Cancer Relief but I’ve kept out of the way, there’s no place for me there.’ She shrugged and suddenly smiled at Julia. ‘In the meantime, I’ve instructed my solicitor to start divorce proceedings, and I’ve booted my husband out of the house.’
‘Goodness!’ Julia was impressed. ‘That’s pretty good going, you haven’t had long. How did he take it?’
‘He was most affronted,’ Sue grinned, taking a sausage roll from the tray Ursula was proffering. ‘Apparently it wasn’t part of his script for me to be the one who acted first: he told me, quite seriously, that he’d planned to divorce me, next year.’
‘On what grounds?’ Julia was fascinated.
‘He didn’t specify.’ Sue was looking more at ease than Julia had ever seen her, and more attractive, in a cream outfit from Wallis, with her hair cut short and styled. ‘I stood over him while he moved his stuff out, then I changed the locks and reset the codes on the burglar alarm. If he tries to break in while I’m away he’ll get more than he bargains for.’
Just before Finn and Charlie slipped away to Charlie’s house for the next two nights Delia waylaid them.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she said. ‘You needn’t worry, I’m not suggesting you join our elderly orgy of celebration, you get off and have your own orgy. But before you do go, I wondered about a wedding present.’
‘For goodness sake, Delia!’ Finn exclaimed in surprise. ‘You’ve already done so much, what with all the drink and so on.’
‘My pleasure,’ Delia interrupted her with a lordly wave of the hand. ‘No, this is more practical stuff. I’ve had the doubtful pleasure of visiting Charlie’s house and no doubt he had his own reasons for living in that welter of flock wallpaper, but I don’t see why he should expect you to.’
‘Oh, come on, Delia,’ Charlie protested. ‘Of course we’ll redecorate, but give us time We’ve hardly had time to turn round since we got engaged.’
‘My point exactly,’ she told him smugly. ‘Now, my nice, competent decorator tells me he’ll be at a loose end for a few days in the New Year. Suppose I get him to go through the house, stripping off the ghastly wallpapers and painting the whole white, or cream, or even pink, whatever you choose?’
‘It wouldn’t be pink!’ Finn was close to tears. ‘You really are the kindest, most sentimental creature, under that hard front. Charlie? How can we refuse such a kind offer?’
‘We can’t,’ Charlie replied frankly. ‘I second my wife’s remarks, Delia. You’re a soppy old dragon and I love you!’ He clasped the startled Delia in his arms and planted a smacking kiss on her delicately tinted cheek. ‘But definitely not pink, white’s fine with me, thank you.’
****
For the next two days Finn and Charlie stayed holed up in his house, alternating bouts of love-making with fits of tidying up in anticipation of Delia’s tame painter and decorator.
‘I never believed it could be like this,’ Finn lay in Charlie’s arms the night before they were to depart on their honeymoon. ‘It just gets better every time.’
‘Practice,’ Charlie murmured sleepily. ‘Gimme ten minutes and we’ll practise some more.’ His voice drowsed away and when she shifted slightly she saw he was already asleep again.
‘I love you,’ she told her sleeping beauty. ‘Always and forever, world without end.’
From the moment when, suddenly shy, she had slipped out of her wedding dress, there had been this sense of a difference, a new dimension, to their love-making.
‘You’re unbelievably beautiful,’ Charlie whispered huskily as he traced a line from her lips to her breast. ‘I wish I could write poetry, not just software, I just can’t find the words to tell you.’ He bent to kiss her, with a strange, delicate formality and she felt tears prickling at the back of her eyelids.
For a moment they stayed like that, as if unwilling to shatter the feeling, then Charlie grinned at her with the familiar mischief dancing in his dark brown eyes and the long dimple in his right cheek even deeper than usual.
‘Enough about software,’ he bragged with mock-macho heroics. ‘What we have here is hardware, and plenty of it!’
&nb
sp; ‘God! You’re such a romantic smoothie,’ she giggled, then there was no time for laughing just now as they drowned in their mutual passion.
****
At six o’clock on Christmas Eve morning Ursula Buchanan was putting the finishing touches to her packing: a couple of flowered cotton dresses; two viscose skirts with elasticated waists and sad, drooping hemlines; some limp blouses, sensible cotton underwear; and most important of all, her swimming costume.
The angel sat on her bed watching the proceedings.
‘Well?’ he asked, directing a stern glance at her.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she tossed her head and refused to meet his all-seeing, all-knowing golden eye.
‘Yes you do,’ he told her, with heavily laboured patience. ‘Do I have to spell it out? All right then, in a word – Henrietta!’
‘What about her?’ Ursula managed to maintain her defiant stance. ‘I’ve told the others I’ve arranged for a sitter while I’m away, what more do you want?’
‘For a start,’ he said, looking a little less minatory, ‘I want to know why you rang her solicitor yesterday.’
‘I thought you knew everything.’ The angel met her accusing glance with a bland smile. ‘Oh, very well. If you must know, and I’m sure you already do, I pretended Henrietta was concerned about her will and wanted to know if she’d made an inventory of the house contents.’
‘And?’
‘She hadn’t.’ Ursula checked the suitcase once more, then fastened it and lugged it down to the hall. ‘I suppose you want me to spell it out, do you? Very well, I was concerned that if anything happened to me the lawyers might be able to trace the sale of some of the china back to the others in the gang.’ She frowned at him. ‘And you needn’t look at me like that, I knew all along that I was in the wrong and I don’t care, but I didn’t want it to backfire.’
‘And the letter you’ve left in the bureau?’ The angel forbore to comment. ‘What’s that all about?’
‘You do like to have the t’s crossed and the i’s dotted, don’t you? We’ve all sorted out our affairs – just in case; Jonathan and Marek and me. I’ve written down what happened, about Henrietta dying like that, and how I didn’t want to lose my home. So if anything does happen to me, they won’t waste time trying to find her.’
