‘Yay! They’ve set a date!’ Dorothy shouted out as she hurried over to the welders’ work area, leaving Polly and Gloria, who she’d bumped into at the timekeeper’s cabin, lagging behind.
Dorothy might have met Bel only a few times, but she felt she knew her. Polly had chatted a lot about her sister-in-law over the past year, especially after Teddy had been killed, but she hadn’t really got to know her until the day they’d all turned up after Hope was born.
Hearing Dorothy’s jubilant voice ring out, Rosie, Angie, Martha and Hannah all looked up from their spot around their fire.
‘That is wonderful news!’ Hannah chirped.
Martha, who was standing next to her little friend, looked at her and asked, slightly confused, ‘Who’s set a “date”?’
‘The wedding, Martha,’ Dorothy almost sang the words. ‘The wedding! What other date is there? This is the event of the year.’ She rolled her eyes dramatically as she put her bag and gas mask down next to her welding machine.
‘Anyway …’ Dorothy asked, directing her gaze at Hannah, ‘what brings our “little bird” back to the flock? We’re not normally graced with your presence this early on in the day. And without young Olly hanging on to your coat tails.’
Hannah looked a little guilty and shot Martha a quick look. ‘Perhaps it is because I wanted to see my friends,’ she said, enunciating each word clearly. Martha looked down at her beloved mate and smiled, showing the big gap between her two front teeth.
Angie looked at Dorothy and raised her eyebrows. Someone, probably Rosie, must have had a quiet word in Hannah’s ear about Martha, and how their workmate had been mooching about lately and was obviously missing her friend.
‘So,’ Angie piped up, ‘when is it?’
‘The eighth of November,’ Dorothy declared.
‘Blimey,’ Angie said, ‘that’s in four weeks’ time.’ She chuckled. ‘Hey, Pol, you sure there’s not a bun in the oven?’
Polly frowned and opened her mouth to speak, but was beaten to it by Dorothy.
‘Bel’s not like that, Ange! They’re in love. You’ve seen the pair of them. Anyway, what’s the point in waiting when you know you want to be with someone for the rest of your life?’
Dorothy looked over a little guiltily at Gloria, suddenly aware that all this chatter about romance and marriage and being together for ever was probably the last thing she wanted to hear, but when she saw her friend, standing, sipping her tea by the fire, a glazed look on her face, she realised she was miles away.
‘So, bet you it’s a madhouse at yours?’ Rosie said to Polly as she cleared the workbench of bits of scrap metal and used rods.
Polly laughed. ‘You could say that. Ma and Bel are like two queen bees working nineteen to the dozen to get everything ready – but what’s a real turn-up for the books is that even Pearl seems to be getting into the spirit of it all. The plan is to have the reception in the Tatham, so, Pearl’s chuffed to pieces because that’s her domain.’
‘I suppose she is “the mother of the bride”,’ Rosie said, thinking of her own mum for a fleeting moment. She had been dead now for ten years but she still missed her.
‘Well, I know Bel would much prefer Agnes. Ma’s been more of a mam to Bel than Pearl ever has,’ Polly said truthfully, ‘but, you know, blood’s thicker than water and all that.’
‘And,’ Hannah started speaking and paused for a moment before asking, a little uncertainly, ‘who is going to, how do you say it, hand the bride over?’
‘Give the bride away,’ Dorothy corrected.
‘I don’t think they’re going to have anyone as such,’ Polly said, not wanting to elaborate. It didn’t feel right talking about Bel’s father – or rather her lack of one – in front of everyone.
‘And what about the dress?’ Angie asked. She and Dorothy had been intrigued to hear that it was Rosie’s old schoolfriend who was making it, and that she actually lived at Lily’s. The pair of them would have given anything to have a good neb around the bordello.
‘Oh, the dress,’ Polly said, looking over to Rosie, ‘is going to be fantastic, although to be honest I have no idea what it looks like. Bel’s tried to explain, but I haven’t got a clue, other than it’s a pastel pink colour.’
Rosie laughed. ‘It’s got to be amazing, the amount of time Kate’s spending on it. I’ve hardly seen her lately. She’s totally obsessed.’
‘Oh goodness,’ Polly suddenly perked up, ‘I almost forgot––’
Everyone looked at Polly as she hurried over to her bag and pulled out a dozen small envelopes.
‘Ta-da!’ she said dramatically. ‘The wedding invites.’
Dorothy gave a little jump of excitement and clapped her hands. ‘Oh, this is sooo exciting,’ she said, putting her hand out as Polly handed them all their individual cards.
‘Bel’s got lovely handwriting, hasn’t she?’ Hannah said, admiring the swirling lettering on the front of the card.
‘Cor, we get to bring someone with us ’n all,’ Angie said, astounded.
Dorothy shot her best friend a mischievous look. ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Ange?’
Angie nodded with a big grin on her face.
Martha was looking at them both, the card still unopened in her hand. ‘Not another “double date!”’ she said with a slightly disapproving look on her face.
There was a joint howl of laughter just as the klaxon sounded for the start of their shift.
‘Eee, I remember the day when Martha didn’t know of such things,’ Gloria said, casting a reproving look at Dorothy and Angie. ‘You two are a bad influence.’
‘See you all in the canteen at lunch,’ Hannah said. ‘And, Polly,’ she added, ‘can you tell Bel “thank you”. It will be my first British wedding. And I am very excited.’
Dorothy chuckled as she watched Hannah, trotting back across the yard.
‘No guessing who Hannah’ll be inviting,’ she said. ‘… And it won’t be her aunty Rina, that’s for sure.’
Rosie slipped her invite into her top pocket and wished more than anything that she too could get excited about who she would bring to the wedding.
‘Come on then, you lot,’ she said, waving her hand for them to follow her. ‘Get your gear. I need you over with the platers this morning.’
When they arrived at the platers’ shed, the men were just starting up the huge metal rolling machine. When the women were trainees, they had all said the same thing – it reminded them of a mammoth-sized mangle – only instead of laundry coming out of its rollers, there were huge sheets of metal.
‘I’ll see you all in a little while,’ Rosie told the women as she branched off and headed towards the main office buildings.
Harold had asked to have a quick word when he’d spotted her coming through the main gates this morning. She just hoped Miriam wasn’t going to be there. She was not in the mood today. Hopefully, it was some good news about Jack. He had looked well when he’d visited with Miriam.
When she reached the main offices, she took the stairs up two at a time, knocking before she went into Jack’s office. When she heard Harold’s ‘Come in!’ and stepped into the small office, she was glad to see that he was on his own.
‘Morning, Rosie,’ Harold said. He was sitting behind Jack’s desk with his elbows resting on the steel top, where, Rosie noticed, a photograph of Jack and Miriam had been put on show.
‘Have a seat –’ He indicated the wooden chair in front of the desk.
‘I’m all right standing, Harold. What’s up?’ Rosie asked.
‘I just wanted to let you know …’ Harold got out a cigarette and lit it. ‘Jack’s not coming back to the yard,’ he told her as he blew smoke out. ‘He’s been moved to Crown’s.’
Rosie was shocked. ‘Why’s that?’ she replied, her voice not hiding her disbelief.
Harold coughed nervously. He hated dealing with women when it came to work or business – he was never quite sure how hard or soft to be with them. Thankfully, it was something he didn’t have to deal with very often.
‘It’s what Mrs Crawford wants,’ he explained, trying hard to keep his face deadpan.
‘I don’t understand,’ Rosie said, trying to rein in her annoyance, ‘I don’t see the point of moving Jack to another yard. I don’t see why or what good that will do. Surely he needs to be in a familiar place. Somewhere full of memories. Somewhere he has spent most of his life?’
Secretly Harold couldn’t have agreed with Rosie more. Thompson’s had been Jack’s home for his entire life. It made more sense to keep him here.
‘It’s out of my hands,’ he said with a defeated shrug of his shoulders.
Rosie let out a deep huff. ‘Well, I think it’s a terrible idea and I don’t care whether that gets back to Mrs Crawford or not.’ She pushed a straggle of blonde hair back from her face. She wasn’t about to give up – for Gloria’s sake, above all else.
‘Is there no way you can change Miriam’s – I mean Mrs Crawford’s mind? No offence, but she doesn’t even work here.’ Rosie knew she was pushing the boundaries that someone of her position – and gender – was supposed to keep within.
‘Yes, Rosie, but she is his wife,’ Harold said, ‘and more importantly she is the daughter of Mr Havelock. And it is Mr Havelock who is sanctioning the move to Crown’s.’
‘But,’ Rosie persisted, desperate to keep Jack at the yard, ‘Crown’s is a smaller yard, and no one there really knows him.’
‘The argument is that Mr Thompson may well be looking at buying out Crown’s – if we win this bloody war, that is – so if that is the case it might make sense for us to have Jack there to help with the transition.’
Rosie listened and knew she was beat. She also knew Jack’s move to another shipyard had nothing whatsoever to do with any kind of amalgamation.
Miriam was far from stupid.