WE REALLY HAD cut it fine, but as the four of us hurried towards the platform, we could see the train sitting there with a few stragglers still getting on.
‘I must say,’ said Charles as we slowed down, ‘now that we’re on our way, it does feel a bit odd being together as if we’re just going on the morning train to the office or something. Not that I don’t want to be with you, darling, but it’s not quite the traditional pre-wedding set-up, if you know what I mean?’
I was less concerned. ‘I don’t mind,’ I said. ‘At one point this morning I thought we’d all end up getting arrested so it’ll be a relief just to sit down in a carriage rather than a cell.’
‘I’m with Charles on this one,’ said Guy as we showed our return tickets to the collector at the gate. ‘It’s not quite cricket on the old wedding etiquette front.’
‘There’s nothing much we can do about that,’ said Bunty. She had been on her feet all morning, not to mention having to quick march for the train, and she was leaning quite heavily on her stick.
‘Yes, we can,’ said Guy. ‘Now we’re safely here, it might be a nice idea if we split up. Ladies, may I suggest you get into a carriage here, while my brother and I move along to one nearer the front. Charles, you come with me. Best Man’s orders.’
‘That sounds nice,’ said Bunty, gratefully.
‘Excellent,’ said Guy. ‘When we get to Paddington, Charles can get in a taxi and I will check that you ladies are safely in one as well and as long as there isn’t a hoo-hah about the timing, you two,’ he fixed Charles and me with a stare, ‘won’t be seeing each other again until Emmy gets to the church. Everyone agree?’
I thought it a lovely idea. ‘Perfect,’ I said, opening the carriage door. ‘Go on, Bunts, you get in first.’
Bunty happily did as she was told. ‘See you there!’ she called before plonking herself down on the seat.
‘Come along, Charles,’ ordered Guy, ‘before the guard blows the whistle.’
He began to stride along the platform towards the smoke and steam from the engine.
‘Be right there,’ called Charles. He turned to me. ‘We’ve got a few seconds. The guard’s helping an old chap with his bag. Can I get my last ever kiss with a girl who isn’t my wife?’
‘As long as it jolly well is,’ I said, quite happy to oblige.
‘Hurry up, you two,’ called Bunty who had dramatically put her hand over her eyes in order not to watch. ‘Don’t muck things up at this stage.’
‘Go on then, Emmeline Lake,’ said Charles, more or less lifting me into the train, ‘or Guy will have a fit. Goodbye, darling. Bye, Bunty. See you at the church!’
He slammed the door behind me, blew a kiss and as we heard the guard’s whistle shriek, sprinted off before it was too late.
I sat down opposite Bunty in the carriage, letting out a loud sigh. ‘Bunts, we made it,’ I said.
‘What a relief,’ said Bunty, looking much like I felt.
We heard the guard blow his whistle for the final time.
‘Made it,’ I said. ‘Now we can relax.’
The train didn’t move. I could hear it hissing and huffing, but nothing happened.
Bunts and I looked at each other.
I jumped up, rammed the window down and stuck my head out, Bunty by my side almost as fast.
Shrouded in billows of smoke and steam, and already picking up speed as we watched, the front half of the train was easing itself out of the station.
‘NO!’ I shrieked, fumbling to open the door, although it was entirely too late to make any difference.
Nevertheless, I leaped out. Bunty followed closely behind.
We were the only people on the platform.
‘Why didn’t the guard say?’ I wailed. ‘How could he let us get on the wrong end of the train?’
‘I don’t think he saw us,’ said Bunty. ‘He was helping the elderly chap. It’ll be all right,’ she added, not sounding terrifically sure. ‘We can get the next one. Or Charles and Guy will get off when they realise and wait for us at the next station. If we go straight to the church rather than home first, I’m sure you’ll make it.’
I looked at her.
‘All perfectly fine,’ she finished, her voice trailing off.
‘No, Bunts,’ I said, failing to join in. ‘I really don’t think that it is.’
I put my hands on my hips and continued to stare up the platform, as if the engine driver would somehow miraculously reverse back to get us.
‘The ticket man will know,’ said Bunts, who was doing a good job at attempting to be calm in the face of complete disaster.
‘How did Guy and Charles not notice?’ I said. ‘They must have walked right past where they’d uncoupled the carriages.’
‘To be fair, Charles was running,’ said Bunty, which was accurate but unhelpful.
I tried to pull myself together. ‘Right. Let’s think about this. The ticket collector. Good idea. Come on.’
Bunty was ahead of the game on this point and had already started heading back to the platform gate.
‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘We’ve been left behind. We didn’t realise the train was splitting in two.’
‘Oh dear,’ said the man. ‘Whoops a daisy.’
Bunty saw the look on my face. ‘Leave it to me,’ she said, laying a hand on my arm. ‘Yes,’ she continued. ‘Bit of a hiccup. Do you know if the next London train is on time? It’s just we have to get there rather urgently.’
‘Well, now,’ said the collector. ‘There is a war on.’
Bunty’s grip on me tightened.
‘Mmm,’ she managed. ‘Yes, we know that. Perhaps you can tell us if another engine is coming for these carriages?’
‘It is,’ said the collector.
‘There we are!’ said Bunty.
‘But it’ll be taking them into the sidings.’
‘For heaven’s sake,’ I muttered.
‘I see,’ said Bunty, showing remarkable patience. ‘Do you have any idea when we can expect the next train to London?’
‘The thing is,’ I interrupted, now unable to keep quiet any longer, ‘I’m supposed to be . . . well that is, I am getting married at three o’clock. And we really do have to be on the train.’
The ticket collector chewed his lip. ‘You might be all right,’ he said. ‘Then again.’
‘Isn’t the next train at a quarter to twelve?’ said Bunty. ‘Em, that would still be fine as long as it doesn’t get stuck somewhere.’
‘That one’s been cancelled,’ said the man. ‘But there’s another at a quarter to one. Probably.’
‘That’s just too late,’ I said. I was beginning to panic. ‘Oh, Bunts, I shouldn’t have done this. What was I thinking?’
‘Let’s go back into town,’ said Bunty, having given up on the enigmatic ticket collector. ‘How long would it take by car, do you think? If we could find one? That had petrol.’
I wished Charles hadn’t made the joke about me stealing a car. Currently it was feeling like a viable option.
‘It might be your best bet,’ said the ticket collector. ‘The lines are right up the spout again today.’
‘Come on, Em,’ said Bunty. ‘It’s worth a go. Anne may know someone. And we need to warn her about the trains, anyway.’
I nodded. ‘Is your leg up to it? You’ve hardly sat down.’
‘I’m fine,’ said Bunty, looking determined.
I didn’t believe her for a moment, but I knew her well enough to know not to push further.
We made our way back out of the station and started walking steadily back to the market square.
‘You’re right,’ I said, putting my arm through hers and trying to be positive. ‘Anne will know someone. But honestly, Bunts, why did I insist on risking this?’
‘Why did I let you?’ she answered. ‘Because you made a promise. I’d have done exactly the same, and I bet you Charles would have too if it was his army pals. So would Guy.’
‘I just can’t miss the wedding,’ I said, feeling sick at the thought. I couldn’t bear the thought of Charles going away if we weren’t married.
‘You won’t miss it,’ said Bunty. ‘We won’t let you. And he will come back, Em. I know that’s what you’re thinking. You and Charles are not me and Bill. You are not Anne and Anthony.’
She stopped in the middle of the street.
‘Your story will have a happy ending,’ she insisted. ‘It will. Now, let’s find a way to get to London.’
Determined and calm, my best friend had known exactly what I was thinking. She gave me a quick smile. ‘All right?’ she asked.
I took a deep breath. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Thank you. For a moment I went a bit defeatist there.’
‘Not to worry,’ said Bunts, cheerfully.
‘It won’t happen again,’ I said as we started walking more briskly.
‘I should hope not. List D: Transport To Church,’ she said. ‘Working on it, but a bit of an oversight, currently. I can only apologise.’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Look over there.’
Down the road, driving towards us at a pace, was a van. It was familiar yet could have been completely anonymous apart from the person hanging out of the passenger window.
Noreen Noakes was waving at us like mad, while holding tightly onto a now very happy Ruby Oliver. Wilf Noakes slammed on the brakes and they came to a halt right where Bunty and I were standing.
Bunty, who didn’t know either of them from Adam, looked at me in bewilderment. I was no help at all as I just stood there with my mouth open wondering what on earth was going on.
Sitting next to Noreen and looking similarly deranged as she waved was Anne, with Baby Tony on her lap.
Wilf turned off the engine as Noreen threw open the door and hurriedly put Ruby onto the seat next to her mum.
‘Hello,’ said Noreen, climbing out. ‘Wilf says the trains are all messed up. He’s supposed to be picking up some supplies, but he doesn’t think they’ll be here for hours. We’re giving Anne a lift to a wedding.’
‘Where’s Charles?’ called Anne, leaning over and clinging on to Ruby who was trying to get free.
‘They’re on the train,’ I said. ‘Long story. We hope they’re carrying on to Paddington.’
‘Ladies,’ shouted Wilf, ‘you can chat later. If we’re going to get you to London in time, you really do need to get in the van.’
‘Come on,’ said Noreen. ‘Do you mind a bit of a bumpy ride?’
She walked round to the back of the van and opened the door.
‘If one of you wants to get in the front, I don’t mind coming in here with the other,’ she said. ‘Anne volunteered, but Wilf says the children really should sit in the front.’
‘Me first,’ I said, ignoring her and climbing in.
‘I’ve no idea what’s happening,’ Bunty said to Noreen as she climbed in after me, ‘but if this is your van, I can’t let you sit in the back.’
‘Oh, it’s not ours,’ said Noreen. ‘It’s Chandlers’,’ she whispered.
‘Of course,’ said Bunts, calmly. ‘Now we’re stealing a van.’
A loud thumping came from the front.
‘In you go,’ said Noreen. ‘Can you see all right? Wilf says there should be some sacks to sit on. He’ll try not to bounce you around. Mind the pram. It is tied down. Right, I’m shutting the door.’
As Noreen slammed and locked the door, which in terms of safety was something of a relief, Bunty and I sat ourselves down between several large boxes and realised there was a small open hatch between us and the cab. It let in light and as I shuffled forward, I could see the back of Anne’s head.
Wrapping my fingers tightly around the sides as it gave me something to hang on to, I peered through to see Noreen scramble back in.
‘Right,’ yelled Wilf. ‘Hold on in the back. We’re off.’
With that he switched on the engine and the van roared off down the road.
‘WHEEEEE,’ shrieked Ruby.
‘Everyone all right?’ shouted Wilf.
‘Yes, thanks,’ I yelled back.
Then a less raucous and terribly polite voice joined in. ‘I don’t wish to be rude,’ called Bunty. ‘But we haven’t formally met. I’m Emmy’s friend, Bunty, and I just wondered if someone could please tell me what is actually going on?’