‘It’s good to be back in Yorkshire,’ said Janice Butler, looking out of the car window at the familiar scene of limestone hills, a scene she had grown to love while on her visits to Phil’s home every few months or so. He had met her from the train at Leeds station and they were now on their way to his home near the town of Ilkley. She was to stay for the weekend at the Coach and Horses, the country inn where Phil worked along with his parents who owned the old residence. It had once been a coaching inn.
The following day, Saturday, they would be attending the wedding of Valerie Horrocks and Samuel Walker, whom they had first met in Blackpool in the August of 1955.
‘How nice of Val to invite us both to the wedding,’ said Phil. ‘I don’t know her very well but you’ve stayed friendly with her, haven’t you, with both her and Cissie?’
‘That’s true. They’re good friends, although we don’t meet very often. We got on well together as soon as we met. That happens sometimes, doesn’t it? You form an immediate attachment with some folks and not with others? And now they’re both married… or from tomorrow they will be…’
Janice stopped speaking rather abruptly for fear that Phil should think she was dropping a hint. She hadn’t meant to do so. They had started as good friends but were rather more than that now, but there had not been any definite talk about their future together. They met rather infrequently as they were both working hard, Janice at her course on hotel management in Blackpool and Phil as a chef in the family business.
They had first met at the Winter Gardens ballroom where Janice had gone on the Saturday evening, along with Val and Cissie. The two girls from Halifax had come on a week’s holiday to Blackpool and were staying at the Florabunda Hotel in North Shore, which was owned and managed by Janice’s mother, Lilian. Janice had been helping out as a waitress during the busy season; just a temporary job as she would be starting as a student at Leeds University that September.
The girls had invited her to go dancing with them and she had met Philip Grundy, who had asked her to dance, and they had spent the rest of the evening together. They had discovered that they had a lot in common. Phil, at that time, was in the RAF on national service. He was stationed at Weeton Camp, a few miles from Blackpool, but he had almost completed his two years and would be going home in a few weeks’ time, back to Ilkley in Yorkshire. He had explained that he worked with his father in a country inn owned by the family. The national service had broken into his training as a chef, but he intended to carry this on and become more proficient.
Janice had been brought up in a similar environment – a Blackpool boarding house, now known as a private hotel. The business had been started just after the First World War by Janice’s grandmother, Florence, and had then been taken over by her mother, Lilian.
Phil was pleased to hear that Janice would be starting a degree course at Leeds University in September. Leeds was not far from Ilkley, so they made plans to meet up again.
Fate stepped in, however, and all changed when Lilian was taken ill suddenly towards the end of September. She was rushed into hospital for an emergency operation to remove a brain tumour. Janice decided immediately that she must stay in Blackpool and do her best to keep the hotel running in her mother’s absence. She gave up her university place and set to work with a will hoping, along with the other members of staff, to keep the business going. Her father, Alec, was most concerned at her decision – both he and Lilian had been keen for her to continue her studies – but Janice was adamant.
When Phil heard of the dilemma he had helped out at the hotel until the end of the holiday season in October, and then again when they opened the following year. Lilian had never fully recovered from the operation and was unable to take any part in the running of the business. She died in the early summer of 1956 following a second operation, leaving behind a heartbroken husband, daughter and son.
But they had to carry on despite the deep sadness of life without Lilian. Janice had decided, as she had been feeling for quite a while, that her future lay in the hotel business; she had always been unsure about going to university. They were forced to sell the hotel, however, and Janice then enrolled on a catering course at a college in Blackpool – a day course so she could go home each evening to see to the needs of her father and brother.
The three of them, Alec Butler, Janice, and fourteen-year-old Ian now lived in a bungalow close to Stanley Park on the outskirts of the town. It was conveniently situated, not too far from Ian’s grammar school, Janice’s college and Alec’s place of work as a maintenance engineer with an electrical firm.
Phil made no comment to Janice’s remark about her two friends now being married. ‘How are your father and Ian going on?’ he asked. ‘Have they settled down in the bungalow? And you as well, of course?’
‘Yes, we’re getting used to living there,’ replied Janice. ‘It seemed strange at first, living in such a small space after the hotel. And it’s so quiet and peaceful near the park. Not that it was a rowdy area where we lived before, like the centre of Blackpool can be sometimes, but there was always a lot of activity with the holidaymakers during the summer and always somebody different to talk to. We don’t see much of the neighbours – retired couples live on either side of us. But Dad seemed really taken with the bungalow so I went along with the idea. I was pleased he’d found somewhere he liked, at last. It took ages, of course, to sell the hotel. There were so many on the market at the same time and we had to stick out for a good price.’
‘Yes, it was well maintained, wasn’t it? And there’s what they call the goodwill of the business. Your mum had put her heart and soul into that hotel, hadn’t she?’
‘Yes. I hope some of the same visitors return, for the sake of the new owners. They’re a fairly young, go-ahead sort of couple who have bought it. And the husband will be part of it as well. Dad was never involved, as you know, with the running of the hotel.’
‘But he did the odd jobs, didn’t he, and carried the luggage upstairs?’
‘He did, and he enjoyed the company of the visitors, too. He was never the sort of man to go off to the pub every night. I thought he might be lonely – he and Mum were all in all to each other – but he’s gradually coming to terms with it… although we still miss her like mad. A fellow he works with persuaded him to go along to the club that he’s a member of. He took some convincing at first but he goes a couple of times a week now. He’s learnt to play darts and he’s a reserve for the team. They play bowls in the summer – something else he’d never done before.’
‘Good for him! He’s too young to sit around and mope, though I know he’ll still miss your mother very much. And what about Ian? Has he any friends nearby?’
‘Not all that near, not like when we lived in North Shore. But he’s growing up fast and he gets around on his bike or on the bus. So long as he and his mates have somewhere to play football, that’s all he’s bothered about – outside of school, I mean. He works hard while he’s there but he enjoys his leisure time as well. They used to go down to the sands to play football but now he goes to Stanley Park, which is better. He sends his best wishes, by the way, and so does Dad. They want to know when are you coming to see us?’
‘Quite soon, I hope. I’ll see when Dad can spare me for the weekend, although he’s managed without me before, hasn’t he? He’ll have to manage without me permanently when I start up on my own…’
Phil didn’t elaborate on that remark and Janice didn’t enquire any further. Ever since she met him Phil had been saying that one day he would set up on his own or find a position elsewhere, away from his parents’ place. He got on very well with them, but Janice knew that his two years in the RAF had given him a taste of freedom. He had enjoyed the companionship of his fellow servicemen, so maybe, now, he was finding it difficult to settle at home again.
Did he have something definite in mind? she wondered. And did his plans for the future involve her as well? She decided to leave well alone for the moment. No doubt he would tell her more over the weekend, if there was anything to tell.
Phil was quiet for a while and Janice looked out of the window at the passing scenery. Their journey led through Wharfedale, one of the picturesque dales only a short distance from the industrial towns of the West Riding but a vista far removed from the streets of terraced houses and the smoking mill chimneys. Ilkley was situated near to the River Wharfe and Phil’s home was a mile or so outside the town on the road which led to Skipton.
‘So here we are again,’ Phil said as they reached the long, low, white-painted building which opened right on to the road. There was a view from the front of the inn across to the famous Ilkley Moor. Phil drove the car round to the back where there was a garden area, garage and car park, and the entrance to the family quarters.
Janice felt that the place was a home from home to her. Phil’s parents always made her feel very welcome. She felt it even more so this time, after losing her own mother so suddenly. She followed Phil up the stairs to where his mother, Patience, greeted her with a warm hug and a kiss.
‘How lovely to see you again, Janice, love. Ralph’s down in the bar but he’ll be up presently, then we’ll have a meal. You’re in the usual room, love – just make yourself at home… Phil, take Janice’s case up to her room, then you can go and tell your dad that you’re back again.’
‘OK, Mum,’ he replied with just a slight air of impatience. He was the only son and therefore had been doted upon all the more, especially by his mother. She was probably unaware that she sometimes treated him as her little boy rather than a grown man. ‘You don’t think I’d let Janice carry her own case, do you?’ He smiled at her, but with a touch of annoyance.
‘No, of course not, dear,’ said Patience. ‘I was only trying to make her welcome.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Grundy,’ said Janice. ‘You always make me welcome, and it’s great to be here again.’
Phil heaved her case up on to the bed and grinned at her, back to his usual cheerful self. ‘Sort yourself out,’ he said, ‘and I’ll see you in a little while.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘I’ll go and drag Dad away from the bar.’
The room felt rather more familiar to Janice than her room in the new bungalow. It was a pretty, feminine room with a pink theme in the carpet, curtains, bedspread and the towels by the washbasin. There was a magnificent view across to Ilkley Moor with the spring sunshine highlighting the varied browns, greys and greens of the landscape.
It was a peaceful scene and Janice was already feeling the benefit of a change of environment. And it was lovely to see Phil again, of course. Theirs was not a passionate relationship – more a friendship of two young people who were compatible and enjoyed one another’s company. Their relationship, inevitably, had progressed as time had gone on, as there was also a strong physical attraction between them. She knew, though, that Phil would never want to make love to her in the fullest sense until he was sure that they had a future together.
She pondered on the remark he had made earlier about starting up on his own. It was not the first time he had mentioned it but she felt now that he might have something definite in mind. He had been quiet and reflective afterwards and she had not wanted to press him further until he was ready. He played his cards very close to his chest at times and, like a true Yorkshireman, was not given to flowery words or expansive gestures.
Janice unpacked her case, carefully hanging up her outfit she had bought for the wedding the following day. She had chosen it with care, feeling that she must make a special effort to look her very best. She guessed it would be a ‘posh do’, as Val was marrying the boss’s son. Last year she and Phil had attended Cissie’s wedding to Walter, which had also taken place in Halifax. That had been an informal occasion, with more of a tea party in the church hall following the service. It had been very enjoyable, though, and now Cissie had her little boy, almost one year old. Janice was looking forward to seeing her two friends again. It was amazing the way the three girls had taken to one another when they had met at the hotel in the summer of 1955, and more surprising that the friendship had continued.
Her new outfit, purchased from Sally Mae’s in Blackpool – a shop she only visited for a special occasion – was a slim-fitting silky rayon dress in hyacinth blue and a short bolero styled jacket with elbow-length sleeves. Her hat – which she felt was obligatory, though she rarely wore one – was a navy pill-box with a pink rose at the side. High-heeled navy shoes and a matching small clutch bag completed her ensemble.
The assistant had enthused – but then they always did – that the outfit suited her slim figure and her fair hair and complexion. Janice had never concerned herself overmuch about her appearance but she had no complaints about her medium height and slender form, her shoulder-length hair with a natural wave framing a face with regular features. She usually wore casual clothes but it was good to dress up once in a while.
She had a quick wash and tidied her hair, then joined the Grundy family in the large living-cum-dining room. Mr Grundy – Ralph – had returned from the bar and he greeted her warmly as his wife had done.
‘Great to see you again, Janice. And you’re off to a posh wedding, I believe? Jolly good! I hope the sun shines on the bride. It looks as though this good weather might be with us for a while… Sit yerself down, love, and tell us your news. You’re still on with your catering course, are you?’
‘Yes, it’s just for a year – it ends in July. I’ve learnt a lot that I was unsure about before. Accounts and book-keeping and management, although I must admit they’re not my strong points. And I’m more proficient at cooking and baking now – even Dad’s remarked on the difference, though he never complained about my previous meals. What I enjoy most is baking – all sorts of fancy cakes and pastries and gateaux – and finishing them off in a professional way. My efforts were very amateurish before, but I feel I’m really getting somewhere now.’
‘Sounds good to me,’ remarked Ralph. ‘A good pastry cook can always find a job. Have you anything in mind for when you finish your course?’
‘No… not yet. I’m keeping my eyes and ears open. There should be something in Blackpool with all its hotels and restaurants. Or I may look further afield – I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to consider my dad now he’s on his own. Well, he’s got Ian, I know, but it’s taken him a while to adjust to Mum not being there.’
‘Yes, I should imagine so,’ said Ralph. ‘I won’t say I know how it feels because I don’t. No one can know till it happens to them… but I can guess how it would be if I lost Patience, God forbid. Don’t know what I’d do without her.’ He cast a loving glance at his wife.
Patience laughed, making light of his remark. ‘No one would think so at times, the hours he spends in that bar, chatting to everyone who comes in. I can’t tell you the number of times I have to call down to tell him his meal’s on the table. We’ve plenty of bar staff to cope with it all.’
‘I’m just being a good host, love,’ said Ralph. ‘Aye, I know I’ve a lot of Yorkshire traits. I’m not right good with fancy speeches an’ all that. But Patience and me, we’re a real Darby and Joan, aren’t we, love? Like your mum and dad were, Janice, from what you say.’
‘I don’t think we’re quite at that stage yet,’ said Patience with a wry grin. ‘We’re nowhere near retiring age and I can’t see Ralph ever wanting to give up, he enjoys it so much.’
‘Oh, I don’t know, I dare say the time will come, but you have to make the most of it while you can. You never know what might be round the corner.’
‘It’s just as well that you don’t,’ said Janice, looking pensive for a moment. ‘But Dad’s getting out and about more now, and he assures me he’ll be OK if I want to get a job away from home – spread my wings, as he puts it. But I still feel a certain responsibility towards him. And as for Ian, I’m sure he thinks I’ll always be there to see to everything. I’ve taken the place of Mum, in a way. Losing her has hit him a lot harder than he lets on to us. Anyway, we’ll have to see how things turn out.’
Patience smiled at her understandingly. ‘Well now, I’d best get cracking with our meal. It’s ready in the oven. I’ve made a meat and potato pie, so I’ll dish it out in the kitchen, then you can put on your own pickles or whatever you like. Janice, perhaps you can come and show me how much you want. I can guess that my two men will be as hungry as hunters as usual.’
The ‘hot pot’, as it was usually called, smelled delicious as Janice served out a good portion for herself with a wedge of the shortcrust pastry top. It tasted delicious, too, with the addition of pickled onions, red cabbage and a small amount of brown sauce. The onions and cabbage were in glass dishes on the table; the HP sauce was in its bottle.
‘We usually have jars on the table not fancy dishes,’ remarked Ralph, winking at Janice, ‘but we’re being all posh tonight ’cause we’ve got company.’
Patience laughed. ‘Take no notice of him, Janice. I do know what’s right and proper. I’ve even remembered the serviettes… or should I say napkins?’
‘It’s all lovely, Mrs Grundy,’ said Janice. She knew that they were quite informal when they dined on their own, but in the restaurant downstairs everything was just as it ought to be with vegetables served in separate dishes. There was also an area near the bar where sandwiches and snacks were served more informally.
‘Now then, are you going to tell Janice your news?’ said Ralph to his son when the first course had been cleared away and they were enjoying an apple crumble with custard. ‘Unless you’ve already told her, but I don’t think you have?’
Janice looked enquiringly at Phil. She had thought earlier in the day that there was something he was not telling her.
‘I’ve had a stroke of good luck,’ he said. ‘Well, in a way it was sad, I suppose,’ he added. ‘My aunt, Bertha, died – she was Mum’s sister – much older than Mum, though. She had never married so she had no family.’
‘Yes, you mentioned in one of your letters a while ago that she had died,’ said Janice.
‘Well, what I didn’t know at the time was that she had left me practically all that she owned.’
‘She was always very fond of our Phil,’ said Patience, ‘and, like he says, she had no children of her own and we’ve only got the one son. We’re quite comfortably off, Ralph and me, and Bertha knew that, so she left us just a small share and anything we wanted as keepsakes from the house. The rest goes to Phil.’
‘And it’s no more than he deserves,’ said his father. ‘He was very good to his aunty and she regarded him as the son she’d never had. So it’s up to him to make good use of it. I know he’s had itchy feet for a while so now he can do summat about it.’
‘Yes, I fully intend to,’ added Phil.
‘Jolly good,’ said Janice faintly, wondering where she fitted into these plans, if at all.
‘I’m looking around,’ said Phil. ‘I don’t want to go too far away – certainly not far from Yorkshire. On the other hand, I don’t intend to set up in competition to Dad near here. It’ll have to be something rather different. Anyway, we’ll talk about it later?’ He looked at Janice questioningly.
She was feeling rather bewildered and realised it must show on her face. It was odd that this was the first time he had mentioned his windfall. He had not said a word about it on their journey here.
‘I thought you had something up your sleeve,’ she said. ‘So now I know.’
‘I was waiting for the right time to tell you. It’ll be a big undertaking, whatever I decide to do.’ She noticed he had said ‘I’ and not ‘we’.
‘I’m dying to know what you’ve got in mind,’ she said with a slight touch of irony.
‘Don’t worry, all will be revealed,’ he said.
Patience, as if aware of the constraint on Janice’s part, changed the subject, asking her about the outfit she would be wearing for the wedding the following day. ‘It’ll be a posh do, will it, with Sam being the mill owner’s son?’
‘I should think so,’ said Janice, ‘but if I know Val, she’ll try to keep it within limits.’
‘Well, I hope you have a really good day.’
‘I’m sure we will,’ said Janice.
Patience made coffee to finish off the meal, then refused Janice’s offer to help clear away and wash up. ‘No, I wouldn’t dream of it. Anyway, it’s not much trouble. I’ve got a dishwasher up here now as well as the one downstairs for the restaurant. Ralph said we didn’t need one but I managed to convince him.’
‘Yes, they’re a great help,’ agreed Janice. ‘Mum bought one for the hotel just before she was taken ill and we couldn’t imagine how we’d managed without it. But we haven’t got one now at the bungalow. Dad says we don’t need one and I suppose he’s right.’ She laughed. ‘He actually does the washing-up now, though he never used to.’
‘Some do, some don’t,’ said Patience, looking pointedly at Ralph, who pretended he hadn’t heard. ‘Now, off you go, you and Phil, and have some time on your own. It should be nice and quiet now, down in the bar.’
‘Yes, let’s go and have an after-dinner drink,’ said Phil, ‘before it starts getting busy.’
They went downstairs to the bar area, a cosy room despite the stone-flagged floor. There was a huge fireplace with a log fire burning, giving a warm and cheerful ambience to the place. During the summer months – provided there was a decent summer – Patience made an arrangement of leaves and fir cones to fill the hearth, but there was still a nip in the air now when the sun went down.
They sat in wheel-backed chairs near to one of the small, round tables which wobbled a little on the uneven floor. Chintz cushions on the chairs and matching curtains at the mullioned windows added to the homely, countrified feel of the place.
‘What are you drinking?’ asked Phil. ‘I shall have a pint of the special Black Sheep ale. Something more ladylike for you, eh?’
‘Yes, I’m not really into quaffing pints,’ said Janice. ‘Though I know some girls do nowadays. I’ll have a sweet martini, please, with a dash of lemonade.’
It was only recently, since she had got to know Phil, that she had drunk any alcohol at all. The hotel in Blackpool had not had a licence to serve wine and spirits; very few smaller hotels had one. She and her friends would never have dreamed of going into a public house on their own. Now, though, it seemed that young women were no longer frowned upon for doing so.
There was a well-stocked bar at the end of the room nearest to the restaurant. Phil returned a few moments later with a tankard brimming over with frothy-topped ale and a smaller glass with Janice’s drink, served with a cherry on a cocktail stick and a slice of lemon.
‘Cheers,’ he said, raising his glass, and she did the same.
‘It’s great to have you here,’ he told her, and the warmth in his smile showed her he meant what he said.
‘Yes, it’s good to be back,’ she replied, though not over-effusively.
Phil looked at her steadily. ‘I think you want to hear about my ideas for the future, don’t you?’ he said.
‘Yes, I think that might be a good idea…’
‘Well, I’ve been thinking,’ he went on, ‘after you were talking about your course and how you’d got interested in making fancy cakes and pastries. That’s never been my forte – I’m more for the main courses and interesting starters, and planning interesting menus. So… I was thinking that maybe we could run a tea shop – you know, where they serve morning coffee, then light lunches and afternoon teas. And maybe special evening meals that have to be booked in advance, for birthdays and anniversaries and that sort of thing…’
‘Hold on a minute,’ interrupted Janice. ‘You are including me in this venture, are you?’
‘Of course I am!’ He stared at her in surprise. ‘I thought you would realise that. I wouldn’t dream of making plans that didn’t include you as well. Surely you weren’t thinking…?’
‘I didn’t know what to think,’ replied Janice. ‘We’ve never really talked much about the future, have we? We’ve been seeing each other for almost two years and we’ve worked together, so I did wonder… But a girl likes to be put in the picture, Phil.’
‘Oh, Janice, I’m sorry…’ He leaned forward and took hold of both of her hands in his own. He looked into her hazel-brown eyes, his own grey ones full of concern. ‘You must know how much I care about you, and I think that you feel the same way about me?’
Janice nodded slowly, looking keenly at him.
‘I suppose I’ve taken it for granted,’ he went on, ‘that we would carry on seeing each other. I suppose I’m like my father – you know, what he was saying earlier – he’s not good at putting his feelings into words. Maybe I’m the same, but I do know what I want.’
A slow smile spread over Janice’s face. ‘What are you trying to say, Phil?’ she asked quietly.
‘I’m asking you to marry me, Janice,’ he said. ‘Not the most romantic of proposals, I know, but I do love you. So… you will say yes, won’t you?’
Janice laughed out loud. ‘Of course I will!’
Phil leaned closer and kissed her on the lips. There was no one else in the room; Janice guessed he would not have done so if there had been.
‘I haven’t got a ring,’ he said. ‘But of course you must have one. I’d like you to choose your own ’cause I wouldn’t know what to buy. I know I’ve been acting a bit strange, like, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with Aunt Bertha’s legacy. Then it came to me when you were talking about cake-making an’ all that. I think we’ll make a good team, don’t you?’
‘I’m sure we will, Phil… but we can’t rush into anything, can we? As I said before, there’s my dad to consider, and I’m still not “of age”, as they say. I was twenty in January. I don’t come of age for another eight months.’
‘But your dad isn’t likely to say no, is he?’
‘I shouldn’t think so. He already thinks of you as one of the family and Ian regards you as a brother. All the same, it might come as a surprise to Dad to think of me getting married and moving away from Blackpool.’
‘I’ll have to ask him then, won’t I?’ said Phil. ‘In the old-fashioned way, you know. I’m asking for your daughter’s hand in marriage sort of thing. I could come over to Blackpool next weekend, maybe? What do you think? Then we could go and choose a ring?’
‘Gosh! It’s all happening so quickly,’ said Janice. ‘I feel quite light-headed and dizzy with it all.’
‘That’s the drink that’s gone to your head. You knocked it back quite quickly. You’re supposed to sip it.’
Janice giggled. ‘It was to help me get over the shock, I suppose.’
‘Are you ready for another drink?’
She shook her head. ‘Perhaps just a pineapple juice. I’d better get my thoughts in order. I’m all over the place at the moment… Are we going to tell your parents?’
‘I think that might be a good idea. We’ll have another drink then we’ll go up and tell them. Ah… I see Dad’s down in the bar already. I’ll ask him if he can spare a few minutes because we’ve got something to tell him and Mum.’
Janice sat in a contented haze as Phil went to the bar again. Just one drink tended to make her feel light-headed so she was never tempted to let herself get to the stage where she lost control.
When Phil returned they sat in a companionable silence for a few moments; Janice with her Britvic juice and Phil with his half pint of ale.
‘You’re quiet, love,’ he said. ‘Penny for them?’
She smiled happily. ‘I was just thinking how lovely it is here. Not just here…’ She gestured round the room. ‘I mean here in Yorkshire, so beautiful and peaceful. I’ve really taken to your home county.’
‘That’s just as well, seeing as you’re going to be living here,’ said Phil. ‘Come on, let’s go and break the news to my parents.’
Phil beckoned to his father at the bar and Ralph followed them upstairs.
‘It seems that these two have some news for us,’ Ralph said to his wife when they were all seated. ‘I wonder whatever that can be?’ There was a twinkle in his eye.
Phil took hold of Janice’s hand as they sat on the settee. ‘Janice and I… well, we’ve decided we’re going to get engaged,’ he said.
His parents looked at one another and smiled. ‘That’s wonderful news,’ said Patience. She went over to Janice and hugged her, then kissed her cheek. Then she kissed her son. ‘We’re very pleased, aren’t we, Ralph? But not surprised.’
‘It’s all to be kept secret at the moment,’ said Phil. ‘Until we’ve told Janice’s dad next weekend. And then… well, we’ve not got any further than that, have we, Janice, love?’
‘No, not yet,’ said Janice simply. ‘One step at a time…’
‘This certainly calls for a celebration,’ said Ralph. ‘Get the glasses, Patience, and I’ll fetch some champagne from the bar.’
‘Oh, isn’t this exciting?’ said Patience, laughing happily as she brought four champagne flutes from the sideboard.
Ralph returned a few moments later with a bottle of pink champagne. ‘Stand back, everyone,’ he said as he drew out the cork and the frothy liquid sprayed across the room. ‘This always happens no matter how many times I do it. But we’ve not lost much – it always looks worse than it is.’
He handed round the full glasses then raised his own. ‘Here’s to Phil and Janice. You’re a grand couple and we wish you good luck and happiness as you plan your future together.’
Janice sipped gingerly at the champagne. She had tasted it only a couple of times before and knew the bubbles would go up her nose. She managed a few sips without it making her splutter, but her eyes started to water with the sharp, tangy taste.
‘This is what we’ve been waiting for,’ said Patience. ‘Well, waiting and wondering…’ You’re not the only one! thought Janice to herself. ‘And we’re really delighted, aren’t we, Ralph?’
‘Indeed we are,’ he agreed. ‘I know you’re still very young, the pair of you. But I know our Phil pretty well and I reckon he’s made up his mind.’
‘Yes, I’m only twenty,’ said Janice.
‘And our Phil’s only twenty-two,’ said his father. ‘But I reckon he’s got his head screwed on the right way.’
‘What Janice means is that she doesn’t come of age, as they say, until January,’ explained Phil. ‘So I shall have to do the correct thing and go and ask her father before we go any further with our plans.’
‘He’ll not say no, not if he’s any sense,’ said Ralph. ‘I see what you mean… I’d best get back to the bar,’ he said after a few moments. ‘It’ll get busy when the diners finish their meals, and we get quite a few regulars in on a Friday night… Great news, you two, but I’ll keep it to myself for now, like you said.’
Phil and Janice strolled along the road back to the town, hand in hand. They walked by the side of the river as the sun was setting. It was a quiet and peaceful scene with few people around, but during the day Ilkley was a busy, bustling market town.
‘I shall start looking around, here and a bit further afield,’ said Phil. ‘You’re happy to come and live over here, aren’t you, darling?’
‘Very happy,’ replied Janice. ‘Once we’ve sorted things out at home. My course finishes in July, so I suppose I’ll have to get a job in Blackpool for the time being – hotel or restaurant work. It’ll all be good experience.’
‘For when we have our own place,’ said Phil. He stopped to kiss her as they made their way back. ‘I love you, Janice. You’ve made me so very happy…’