It was such a grand place, with its chandelier, arched alcoves and polished wooden floor, that Ethel felt like a princess as she twirled around in Harry’s arms. The room was so elegant, with high ceilings and ornate plasterwork, it was like the inside of a palace.
Ethel knew, from the ladies who came to the haberdashery counter at Fenwick’s, that a dance at the Assembly Rooms was the place to be seen in Newcastle. She’d never have dreamed that she might one day get to dance in the footsteps of all those rich folk, who arrived in their furs and fine jewels. Harry must have saved up for ages to afford it and that only made her feel more special.
Mam had worked her fingers to the bone to get her beautiful dress ready on time. It wasn’t silk like the dresses of the wealthy ladies but that didn’t matter one bit. Hers was in gold-coloured rayon but it had been cut to the latest pattern from Fenwick’s, with a dropped waist, fluted hem and scooped neck.
Luckily for her, Da had been out at the football when she left the house, or he’d have sent her back upstairs to change.
‘You look lovely,’ said Harry, as the orchestra struck up another tune and the pace quickened into a foxtrot. Ethel was light on her toes and although she’d never had lessons, she was a natural on the dance floor.
‘Why doesn’t Kitty get up and dance?’ whispered Ethel in Harry’s ear.
His sister was sitting at their table having another one of her long chats with Mr Philpott, her editor from the newspaper.
‘Oh, she’s enjoying herself fine,’ said Harry. ‘She’s not one for showing off and socializing, our Kitty.’
For the life of her, Ethel couldn’t fathom that relationship out. Kitty and Mr Philpott seemed to spend a lot of time in each other’s company, but she’d once made the mistake of asking if they were walking out together and Kitty had shot her a look that could have curdled milk. Ethel had only once heard Kitty call him by his first name, Charles, in all the times they’d been out together as a foursome, and he called her Catherine rather than her pet name.
Yet there were little signs of tenderness between them: he’d brush some hair out of her face when he thought no one was watching or touch her gently on the arm as they spoke. Once Ethel had caught them holding hands in the parlour at Harry’s house but that left them both incredibly flustered.
‘Are you worn out with all this dancing yet?’ asked Harry, as he pulled her closer to him. She felt her heartbeat quicken. There was something about him that just made her go weak at the knees. Her friend Ada at work reckoned it must be love.
The music stopped, and the band leader held up his hands and called for ‘a bit of hush’.
He flicked his tailcoat as he addressed the crowd. ‘There’s a very special announcement to make, so if we could all just clear the dance floor for a minute.’
A murmur ran through the crowd as people edged their way back to their seats.
Ethel was just heading to their table when Harry caught her by the hand.
‘Wait,’ he said.
Suddenly, they were the only couple on the dance floor and all eyes were on them.
He got down on one knee and pulled out a ring from the pocket of his waistcoat.
Ethel gasped. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen: a huge sapphire set on a gold band and it sparkled in the light. The room started to spin before her eyes.
‘I love you, Ethel,’ he said. ‘Will you marry me?’
‘You’re ganna be a blushing bride!’
Ada picked up a yard of lace and threw it over her head as a makeshift veil, as she gallivanted around in the storeroom at Fenwick’s. ‘Now, show us that sparkler on yer finger again, I cannae believe it!’
All the shop girls put their heads together as Ethel held out her hand to show them the beautiful sapphire engagement ring that Harry had given her. ‘Gan on, tell us again how he popped the question,’ said Ada, peering around the door in case their snooty supervisor, Miss Simpson, was on the prowl.
‘I was so surprised I think I nearly fainted,’ Ethel giggled. ‘Of course, I said “yes” and then we had a dance, just us two, with everyone cheering and clapping. It’s like a dream come true.’ Well, most folks clapped and cheered, but Kitty had sat there, with her handbag perched on her lap and a face like a wet weekend. Ethel wasn’t sure why, but she just got the feeling that Kitty thought she wasn’t good enough for Harry.
‘Oh, don’t be daft,’ Harry would whisper whenever Kitty shot Ethel one of her reproving looks. ‘She’s just got her head full of ship specifications, that’s all. She carries a lot of responsibility, our Kitty does. You mustn’t hold it against her.’
No matter how hard Ethel tried to chat to Kitty, about anything from the weather to the latest bolts of cloth she’d been selling on the haberdashery counter at Fenwick’s, Kitty just seemed bored by it. Harry’s mam was a different kettle of fish. She was kind, a bit nervous perhaps, but she’d welcomed Ethel into their home, which was so posh, it had polished wood furniture and fancy antiques and paintings on the wall. The only picture Ethel had in her house was one of Jesus on the cross and that hung in the kitchen and, to be honest, she hated it because it always reminded her, for some reason, of her mother just quietly putting up with Da’s moods, day after day.
There was a bond between Harry and Kitty, something that Ethel couldn’t quite fathom. They seemed to know what the other one was thinking and were very protective of each other. All that would change as soon as she got married, Ethel was quite sure of that. She was Harry’s jewel now. He had told her so when he’d slipped the engagement ring on her finger.
The excitement of Mam making her wedding dress seemed to lighten the atmosphere at home and even Da was whistling to himself as he sat on the netty in the back yard these days.
He’d given his permission for Harry to propose, as she was not yet twenty-one. It seemed like a miracle had happened, because not only had Da said ‘yes’, but he seemed genuinely happy for them. He was a lot less moody when Harry was around. Maybe it was just being able to talk man to man, but Harry liked a good chinwag and Da spent ages talking about politics with him. Harry was a very clever man, Ethel was certain of that.
He’d read loads of books about communism and all sorts of other things that Ethel wasn’t remotely interested in. Not only that, he’d got himself quite involved in the union at work and was always going off for meetings. Some of that was just an excuse to nip to the pub for a sly pint because Da was teetotal and wouldn’t approve of that. But Harry had his ear because he’d fought in the trenches during the Great War and Da respected that. He never wanted to talk about what he had done over there in France and Ethel had seen enough wounded soldiers around the city, just quietly getting on with their lives, to know that this was simply the way things were. Nobody wanted to look back to that time. A whole generation had been wiped out and, as Ada told her ruefully the other day, there were so few fellas, Ethel should count her lucky stars to be walking up the aisle with one.
Harry had wanted them to live over in Heaton, at his mother’s house, but Da wouldn’t hear of it.
‘You’ll live here, Harry!’ he said, thumping his fist on the table. ‘Surely you can see it makes sense? Ethel will want to be near her mam when there’s the patter of tiny feet, won’t you, pet?’
Ethel hadn’t really thought about it, to be honest, but she knew it was best to keep the peace, for everybody’s sake, so she nodded in agreement. Harry caught the look in her eye.
‘If that’s what Ethel wants, then that’s what we’ll do,’ he said.
‘Well, that’s settled then,’ said Da, taking a slurp of his tea which was as brown as boot polish. ‘You can have our room, we’ll get a bed for the front room and then the grandbairns can have Ethel’s old room. One happy family!’
Mam gave them all a weak smile. Da had Ethel’s family life all planned out. Ethel caught her mother’s eye for a split second but said nothing. It was better for all of them if she went along with his plans. She just wanted to be happy, that’s all, and nothing was going to spoil her big day.
A wedding date had been set for April and all the shop girls at Fenwick’s shared in the excitement of how Ethel’s dress was coming along. Da had given her a couple of pounds that he’d been saving up for this day since she was born, so that she could look every bit as beautiful as one of the film stars at the talkies; Da let her go out courting properly with Harry now, with barely a word said about it.
For her big day, she’d got herself a pair of cream satin shoes and the dress would be made of yards of cream silk that she’d bought from Fenwick’s. The excitement of cutting that bolt of cloth and feeling the softness of it between her fingers was like nothing else. Miss Simpson wrapped it for her, personally, and wished her the very best of luck.
The biggest surprise came on her last day at the shop, when Ada, who was going to be her bridesmaid, and the others presented her with some lace and trimmings that they’d all chipped in to buy on their tea break.
‘Your life’s ganna change now, Ethel, you’ll be a married woman. It’s like a dream come true.’
As she rang the last customer’s shopping through the till that afternoon, Ethel glanced around the shop floor. It had been the only real excitement in her world until now but she was moving on to bigger and better things. Being married to Harry was going to give her everything she needed now and more, she felt certain of that.
Her veil hung almost to the floor and was held in place by a garland of white roses.
Mam had made the dress with a stunning square neckline and there was a tiered drop waist edged with lace which was set off by her train. Benwell had never seen anything like it and an excited crowd of kids bobbed about by her front door as the wedding car arrived. Da had pulled out all the stops and even spent some of their health insurance money to make sure everything was perfect.
As they stood in the hallway, Da lifted her veil, put his hands on her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. ‘I am so proud of you. Promise me you will honour and respect him as much as you do me and the good Lord himself.’
Ethel’s voice quavered a bit as she made her vow. ‘I will.’