‘Why ever did you ask Freda to bring us along to this awful dance?’ Sarah hissed at Alan. ‘Scottish dancing reminds me of my school days, and I was next to useless even then. By rights I should be at home helping Nan get ready for the wedding. There’s so much still needs doing, and it’s only a couple of days away now.’
Alan tried to ignore the pain in his feet where a hefty lady had jumped on his toes during the Gay Gordons. ‘Just smile and pretend you’re enjoying yourself. We are here to support Freda with her boyfriend. It’s not much to ask, is it?’
‘Then stop limping and smile yourself. I could kill a port and lemon – is there a bar?’
‘No, just tea and lemonade,’ he muttered. ‘Don’t you think I’ve looked?’
Sarah giggled. ‘Just think, it’s not a week since you’ve been home, and look at what we are doing? I never thought we’d be hopping and skipping about in a dusty church hall in London. Why did we have to come to this place? Surely there’s dancing closer to home?’
Alan felt awful not being able to confide that he was here following George’s request to keep an eye on Sandy. ‘From what Freda said this is somewhere that Sandy visits quite often. Perhaps it’s some kind of Scottish club.’
‘That makes sense,’ she said, looking around her. ‘There aren’t many young people here, though. It’s a bit strange if you ask me. But if Freda is happy, who are we to question things?’
‘She does seem happy with Sandy,’ Alan agreed, looking across the room to where their friend was dancing with Sandy.
‘Why are you looking so glum all of a sudden?’ she asked, seeing a shadow cross her husband’s face.
‘Was I? Perhaps I was thinking of that beer I’d like to sup right now.’ How could he tell Sarah he was worried about how Freda would react if Sandy was caught up in wrongdoings at Vickers? ‘Come on, let’s have another go. I’m determined to get round the room once without tripping over my feet,’ he laughed, grabbing Sarah by the hand and pulling her onto the dance floor.
‘Oh no,’ she giggled as the music stopped. They’d danced no more than a dozen steps when an announcer declared it was time for an interval.
‘I’ll get you that drink,’ Alan said as he spotted Sandy leaving Freda alone and walking over to an older man. The pair of them went out a side door of the hall, deep in conversation. Alan followed, trying hard not to be seen. He was unsure of the layout of the church hall and had no idea of where the men were heading. Pushing the door open slowly, he could hear hushed voices up ahead. He was in a short passageway that ran alongside the stage; a heavy curtain at the far end hid Sandy and the man as they spoke. He crept as close as he could and leant forward to listen. It sounded as though Sandy was annoyed, by the tone of his voice.
‘I tell you, I’ve had enough. I’ve done as you instructed. I want no more to do with this. The Fatherland will not win this war – it is obvious to anyone. The Führer is dead. Why continue this madness?’
Alan couldn’t believe his ears and moved closer to hear more, although he could only make out angry mutterings from Sandy’s companion.
‘I tell you, no. I handed over what you asked a year ago, and now I want to be free to live my life. I’m looking to settle down with my lady friend and my father wishes me to go back to Scotland to take over the farm. I’ve done what was asked of me. Please . . . I want no more.’
There were more threatening murmurs from the other man, but try as he might, Alan couldn’t catch more than a word. It suddenly fell silent. Alan took a few steps back and opened the door behind him, making sure to create a noise. The curtain flew back to expose Sandy and the older man. ‘Hello there,’ said Alan. ‘I’m looking for the gents?’
Sandy just stared back, his face paler than usual. ‘It is at the other side of the stage,’ the older man growled in his thick Scottish accent, giving Alan a surly look.
‘Cheers, mate,’ Alan said, trying hard to look cheerful as he walked away. He could hear footsteps behind him so he headed for the gents before rejoining Sarah, who was now sitting with Freda.
‘What happened to our drinks?’ Sarah asked. ‘Don’t bother, I’ll go myself. You sit and have a chat with Freda. We don’t see nearly as much of her as we’d like now she has a serious boyfriend,’ she grinned, leaving them alone to talk.
‘So, kid, what’s all this with you courting. Is it serious?’ Alan asked, leaning back in his seat so he could keep a discreet eye on Sandy.
‘I like him,’ Freda said, jutting out her chin as if daring Alan to make fun of her.
‘He seems a decent sort from what I’ve seen. How did you meet him?’
Freda relaxed and explained that Sandy helped out with the Fire Service and the church Boys’ Brigade. Her eyes sparkled as she chatted away.
Alan felt like a heel for having spied on the man who was making his favourite girl, apart from Sarah, so happy. ‘Do I hear wedding bells?’ he asked.
Freda shrugged her shoulders. ‘He hasn’t asked me, if that’s what you mean?’
‘Would you say yes if he did ask you?’ he asked tentatively, dreading her reply.
‘Now you ask, I might just do that,’ she grinned. ‘Why do you ask – do you want to give me away?’
‘You only have to say the word.’ He smiled, while inwardly dreading the day his friend would face the end of her romance.
‘Betty, whatever are you doing up that ladder?’ Sarah shrieked as she entered the Woolworths store. ‘Here, help me get her down!’ she called to Cecil Porter, who was standing nearby gazing out of one of the large glass windows that looked out over Pier Road as people rushed up and down hugging friends and acquaintances with beaming smiles on their faces. ‘There are plenty of other staff who can put up bunting. It may be the end of war in Europe but we don’t want our celebrations being spoilt by you being carted off to hospital.’
‘I’m fine, Sarah, I just wanted to join in with the celebrations and do my bit like the rest of the staff.’
Sarah waved a finger at her friend. ‘Then go upstairs and bake a cake with Maureen. Honestly, Betty, I’m so angry with you. Not only could you have hurt the baby if you’d slipped, but you could have done yourself harm. And as for you,’ she added to Cecil, ‘call yourself a trainee manager? You’re supposed to have eyes in the back of your head at all times in case there is a problem in the store, and here it is happening right in front of you. You don’t deserve your job title, you lazy so-and-so,’ she said, facing him nose to nose.
Cecil simply looked at her and sneered. ‘If she wishes to climb a ladder, who am I to stop her? Besides, I’m the manager of this store now, so please don’t assume I’m a trainee and not worthy of the title. I’m assuming your husband did not get offered his job back?’
Sarah wanted nothing more than to stamp her foot in frustration and punch him on the nose. Betty was no help, as she simply laughed. ‘Come upstairs to my office, Sarah. I have some news you might like to hear. Cecil – clear this mess up and arrange for tea to be sent to my office, and make it snappy. After that, you can help out on the electrical counter. They seem to be short of light bulbs yet again. I swear the people of Erith must be eating them, we are getting through them at such an alarming rate. And don’t look at me like that,’ she glared. ‘No one is a replacement manager here until the day I leave.’
Sarah followed Betty as she slowly climbed the familiar steep staircase up to the first floor. She could see that Betty was having trouble now her due date wasn’t so far off, and by rights she should have given up her job long ago.
‘Sit yourself down,’ Betty said as she collapsed into her own seat. ‘Now, you are probably wondering what I have to tell you?’
Sarah made the right noises, but prayed that Betty would say she was leaving her job.
‘You won’t have to worry about Alan’s future anymore. Head office have told me they want him to return to Woolworths as soon as possible, as an assistant manager. My gut feeling is that he will soon have his own store, and the way Cecil is performing, it may even be the Erith store.’ Betty beamed as she finished giving the good news, then spotted Sarah’s sad face. ‘Oh my dear, is there something wrong?’
Sarah nodded her head. ‘I’ve lost count of the times I’ve sat here and cried or had to share bad news,’ she said as Betty looked on with concern. ‘I’m afraid Alan will not be returning to Woolworths. He has decided to be his own boss and run a workshop repairing motorbikes. In fact, he is with my dad looking at premises this very afternoon. A day before my nan’s wedding and he is looking at grubby workshops,’ she added, looking sad.
Betty clapped her hands together in delight. ‘Why, I call that splendid news; every man should have his own business at some point in his life. He can always return to Woolworths if he decides he isn’t cut out for the motorbike trade. The skills he learnt here will never leave him,’ she smiled.
‘I suppose not,’ Sarah said, although she couldn’t get quite as enthusiastic as Betty. ‘This just brings more problems, though.’
‘Then tell me your problems. You know what they say: a trouble shared is a trouble halved.’
There was a knock on the door, and a young assistant carried in a tray of tea. Sarah jumped up to clear a space on the desk and take the tea tray. ‘I don’t think this is something that can be halved,’ she said, pouring milk into the cups. ‘Alan becoming his own boss is sure to bring money problems. We can’t expect Maureen to support us, and I know my dad will give us what we need but I don’t want to ask him; if you know what I mean?’
Betty took the cup and saucer and stirred the tea thoughtfully. ‘I know exactly what you mean. You’d like to stand on your own two feet, and I do know how you can do it. Sarah, with Cecil still here and me no doubt leaving very soon, I feel you would be an asset in this office.’ Sarah was dumbfounded. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean you should come back to Woolworths and help bring in some money for your family until Alan’s business can support you. I could do with someone to run the office. What do you say?’
‘I would love to, and in fact I’d thought of asking you for a part-time job. But Buster is still too young to be left, and Georgina has to be dropped off at school. Did I tell you how well she is doing?’
‘Well, if you can find someone to help with the children, please consider it,’ Betty pleaded. ‘I need to know the store is in good hands, and with Freda back full-time and you and Maisie doing a few hours every day, I could rest easy.’
Sarah had never seen Betty so anxious. ‘All right – I may be able to ask Sadie to help. She does a good job caring for Maisie’s little ones,’ she said, thinking aloud. ‘The money would come in handy while Alan builds up the business. I’ll see what he has to say. Thank you for thinking of me, Betty. This isn’t how I expected my life to be when Alan came home – but I suppose roses round the door are rather overrated,’ she added sadly as she sipped her tea.
‘Life never is as we expect it, my dear; we just have to make the most of things. Now, what’s all this about the men having drinks at the Prince of Wales this evening with Bob? They will be fit for the wedding tomorrow, I hope?’
‘They’d better be, or Nan will have Bob’s guts for garters. I’ve warned Alan to be on his best behaviour, and I heard Maureen having a word with Dad.’
‘They seem to be close, don’t they? It must be a comfort since they lost your mum?’
Sarah nodded her head, but was unable to reply as a lump formed in her throat. Now others had noticed it was going too far. She’d have to say something before too long. Her mum hadn’t been cold in her grave more than six months, and people were thinking of her dad and Maureen as a couple. It just wouldn’t do.
‘Over here,’ Bob shouted to David and Douglas above the noise of the busy public house.
‘Is this turnout all for you?’ David said loudly as the men shook hands.
Bob laughed. ‘If only it was, I’d be awash with rum by the time the night was out. There’s a ship in at the docks and the men are drinking to the end of the war. It’s going to be one big celebration tomorrow, now they’ve announced that the eighth of May is to officially be known as “Victory in Europe Day”.’
‘Who’d have thought we’d be celebrating a wedding and Victory in Europe all on the same day?’ Douglas said as he shook hands with Mike Jackson, who was still in his police uniform. ‘I’ll get a round and bring it through. I take it we are in the hall at the back?’
‘Yes, Alan and George are just setting up the last of the tables. It’s a good job we booked the hall, as no one’s going to be able to move in the pub tomorrow evening. It looks like the whole country’s going to be out having a party. Ruby certainly picked a good day for our wedding,’ Bob grinned as he took one of the trays of drinks and led the way into the hall.
‘Hello, hello, what’s going on here then?’ Mike joked as he greeted his mates. He waved to Bob’s friends from the allotment society and the police male voice choir, who’d been coerced into hanging up some of the bunting that Maisie had run up on her faithful Singer sewing machine.
‘Are you here on official business?’ George asked with a nod to Mike’s police helmet, which he’d placed on a nearby table.
‘I’ve been called in for a late shift because of the celebrations that seem to have started since the news was announced for VE Day. I couldn’t really say no when I’ve booked tomorrow off for the wedding. That’s why I’m the only one drinking lemonade,’ he grinned, raising his glass. ‘However, it won’t stop me making a toast. Gentlemen, please raise your glasses to my father, Bob, and his bride-to-be, Ruby, as we wish them health, wealth and happiness on the occasion of their nuptials tomorrow. It is a special day for the country – or should I say the world? Who’d have thought when Ruby chose her birthday to marry this old scoundrel here, that it would also be VE Day?’
‘Oh, bugger!’ Bob said, looking alarmed by what his son had just said.
‘It’s too late now,’ George said. ‘Mum will hound you to the ends of the earth if you don’t marry her now she’s finally agreed to set a date.’
‘No, it’s not that,’ Bob replied, turning rather pale. ‘I forgot it was her birthday. I’ve not bought her a present.’
Once the roar of laughter had died down, Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. ‘Gwyneth thought you might have had too much to do to remember to buy a birthday gift, so she picked this up yesterday.’
Bob carefully opened the box. Nestling in a layer of cotton wool, he found a silver brooch consisting of small glass stars cascading from a larger silver star. ‘It’s perfect,’ he sighed. ‘I’m sure Ruby will like it.’
‘Gwyneth spotted Ruby looking at it in Selfe’s the Jewellers window the other week, so it’s a safe bet it will be acceptable.’
‘That girl’s a diamond. You picked a good one there,’ Bob said, wiping his perspiring brow with a handkerchief.
‘We both did, Dad. I reckon Mum is looking down on us both right now and wishing us well, don’t you?’
The two men tapped their glasses together in a silent toast to Mike’s mum and Bob’s first wife.
‘I’m sure she is, son, I’m sure she is. And wouldn’t she be proud of you, with a wife and child?’
Mike agreed. ‘I wish she was here to meet Gwyneth and Myfi, but then, if she was here you’d not have met Ruby.’ He stopped and frowned. ‘Now that is a confusing thought.’
David interrupted the father-and-son discussion. ‘I’m going out to the bar. Can I get you anything?’
‘Not for me, thanks, but put another lemonade in Mike’s glass before he heads off to work,’ Bob said.
‘I’ll come and help you,’ Mike said, draining his glass and following David out to the main bar of the pub.
They’d just reached the bar through the crush of happy drinkers when the landlord called out, ‘David, there’s a couple asking about your Maisie. They’re standing over by the piano.’
David left Mike to deal with the drink order and went over to where a squaddie was standing talking with a woman in a tatty fox-fur stole that must have walked the earth when Queen Victoria was on the throne. Her hair was a brittle blonde, and the red lipstick smeared around her lips highlighted her yellow teeth.
‘I understand you are asking after my wife?’ he said politely. ‘I’m David Carlisle, Maisie’s husband.’
The man looked him up and down. Like Mike, David was still in his RAF officer’s uniform; an impressive sight compared to the man in front of him in his ill-fitting khaki. ‘So my sister’s married an officer? It looks as though she did all right for herself,’ he slurred.
‘You must be Fred?’ David said, holding out his hand to shake Fred’s. It was ignored.
‘You’ve got our kids,’ the brassy woman said. ‘You’ve had them years, by all accounts.’
David nodded slowly. This couple required careful handling. ‘I believe your mother also had them for some time before her untimely death. We’ve been writing to your division trying to get hold of you since March 1943.’
‘Well, I’ve been busy,’ Fred shrugged. ‘We don’t all have cushy office jobs,’ he sneered.
‘Don’t yer know there’s been a war on?’ the woman cackled.
‘I do, madam,’ David replied, gritting his teeth. ‘So to what do we now owe this social visit?’
‘I want me babies back.’ The woman started to snivel, and let out a wail.
‘Sshh, Cynthia,’ Fred said as people nearby started to look. ‘All in good time; let’s see what this gent is going to offer us first.’
Davis frowned. ‘I’m not sure what you mean?’
Fred winked. ‘You’ve chased me enough these past few years, so you must be keen to take ’em off my hands. That means you’re willing to pay, as far as I’m concerned.’
Cynthia stopped her wailing and gave David a sly look. ‘You look the sort who’s got a few bob put by. Name your offer and we can start the negotiations, otherwise I’ll scream and stamp until the whole of this town knows you pinched our kids at a time when I’d lost me dear old mother-in-law.’ She began to sniff dramatically.
David wanted nothing more than to drag the pair of them out of the pub and have it out with them. Was this why the man hadn’t bothered answering any of the numerous letters he’d sent since Bessie and Claudette came to live with his family? In his heart he knew he’d pay a king’s ransom to have the two girls, who he loved as much as his own offspring, stay with him and Maisie; but he’d be damned if he would weaken that easily.
‘I thought you’d run off with an American serviceman?’ he said, shooting Cynthia a dismissive look. This stopped her snivelling in an instant.
‘Who told you that?’ she asked warily, looking to her husband as he glared at David.
‘Mrs Dawson informed Maisie the evening she passed away.’
‘Then she was telling lies,’ Cynthia spat back.
‘Maisie was not alone. There was a witness. If it weren’t for my wife, your children would have been alone in the world and most likely ended up in an orphanage . . . or worse. Not that you seem worried, as it has taken this long for you to track them down.’
Cynthia whimpered and looked at Fred for support. He simply sneered and nodded to where a group of rowdy squaddies stood drinking and watching them. ‘Don’t think you can get one over on me,’ he threatened. ‘Perhaps I need to go visit that sister of mine and remind her who is head of this family now.’
David took a step closer to his belligerent brother-inlaw. ‘You’ll not threaten my wife,’ he glared, although he knew that in most situations his wife was more than capable of handling herself. There again, Fred hadn’t met his sister in many years, so would not know how strong she’d become since running away from home.
Fred seemed not to be swayed by David’s warning and he too took a step closer, so that the men were almost nose to nose. ‘I’ll be back here tomorrow night. Make sure you either have the money with you, or I’ll take the kids.’
Cynthia leant forward and, almost in a whisper, said, ‘Or some of the money, and I’ll just take my Claudette.’
Fred shoved her out of the way. ‘The money – or we take both my kids,’ he growled at his wife. ‘You might only have birthed one of ’em, but they are both as valuable to me.’
‘Is there a problem here, gents?’ Mike said, joining the group. Cynthia backed away at the sight of the policeman.
‘Nothing to worry about, officer,’ David said politely. ‘This man and his wife were just leaving.’
Fred and Cynthia left the bar. David noticed that the other squaddies followed quickly behind while giving the policeman a wary look.
‘Is there a problem?’ Mike asked, seeing the tense look in his friend’s face.
‘There could be, Mike. Can you spare me five minutes before you go on duty?’
The pavement outside Saint Paulinus church in Crayford was packed with friends and family, there to see Ruby Caselton marry Bob Jackson and to wish them well in their future life together. The gentle May sunshine warmed the well-wishers, who chatted in excitement, not only because a wedding between two senior citizens was something to behold, but also because the day brought to an end six years of hostilities in Europe and was a time of celebration.
‘Well, the sun shines on the righteous,’ Vera said as she stood by the lychgate of Saint Paulinus church. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever attended a Caselton wedding where the Lord didn’t make the weather glorious.’
‘While she made a pact wiv the devil ter turn everything sour,’ Maisie whispered to her husband with a grin as she pushed the pram through the narrow gates, trying hard not to wake the twins. ‘Now, try and put a smile on yer face fer a while, eh?’
‘I was wondering if the girls were all right,’ David said, glancing about for any sign of uninvited guests. He’d decided not to say anything to his wife until after the wedding.
‘They’ll be fine. Freda’s in charge of ’em at Ruby’s house, and Sarah’s ’elping her. They take more notice of her than they do me,’ she grinned. ‘Just be thankful we’re free of three kiddies fer a little while. It’s luxury, ain’t it?’
‘We can always trust Vera to come up with the right words,’ Bob Jackson laughed as he arrived along with Mike and Gwyneth. Shaking hands with the guests, he made his way slowly towards the church.
‘Not having any last-minute nerves, Dad?’ Mike asked, looking at his dad’s jovial expression.
‘There’s not one nerve in my body. I’ve waited for this day for a while now, and unless something happens in the next fifteen minutes to stop Ruby arriving on time, then my plans to invade and capture Ruby Caselton will have succeeded.’
‘You’ve done better than Hitler ever did,’ Alan said as they reached the church where he was handing out hymn books. ‘Who’d have thought the coward would top himself rather than face trial for all his sins?’
‘He will face his trial, never you fear,’ the vicar said as he shook hands with Bob and welcomed him inside the church.
‘I’m a friend of the bride,’ Vera said, hurrying up behind. She was followed by Sadie, who was trying valiantly to hold on to a lively Arthur.
‘Ah, Mrs Munro, it’s been a while since you graced our doors,’ the vicar said, stepping aside to allow her through.
‘If you wrote livelier sermons, you might see more of me. For now I’ll stick to funerals and weddings,’ she told him, heading for the front pews and overtaking other guests as she did so.
A young chorister hurried up to the vicar and whispered in his ear. ‘It seems our blushing bride has arrived. I’ll leave you in the capable hands of your best man; or should that be best son?’ He chuckled at his own joke as he hurried away.
‘No turning back now, Dad,’ Mike said as they knelt to pray.
‘I’ve not changed my mind, although this kneeling lark is playing the devil with my knees,’ Bob said. ‘I must say, David is looking a bit on the glum side. Have him and Maisie had a falling out?’
Mike looked over his shoulder to check who was sitting behind them. One never knew when Vera Munro would appear to pick up a juicy morsel of gossip. ‘It can wait. I don’t want to worry you on your wedding day.’
‘Well, now you have. So spit it out before Ruby gets down the aisle and I have other things on my mind,’ Bob said.
‘He’s had a run-in with Maisie’s brother, Fred. He turned up in the Prince of Wales last night and is threatening to return there this evening.’
‘Why is he threatening to turn up? All are welcome at our party.’
‘He’s not wanting to come and join in the celebrations. He wants money off David – otherwise he’s taking his girls away. The pair of them aren’t fit parents.’
‘I thought the wife had sodded off with an American?’
‘She’s back. I got a look at them last night and they are quite a pair, I can tell you. You’d not want them to look after a dog.’
Bob thought for a moment. ‘Make sure you tell Douglas and Alan, and between us we can keep an eye on David. Best not tell Maisie, or she’ll kill her brother with her bare hands. We can have Sarah and Gwyneth keep an eye on the two children so they’re safe.’
‘I’ll see to that. I did tip them off at the station that there could be trouble brewing this evening; but with the world and his neighbour celebrating today, they’re going to be hard pressed to help with our little problem. One thing did cross my mind, so I’m having it checked out – I’m thinking our mate Fred and his merry band of friends may have gone AWOL from the army.’
‘Good thinking, son. We’d best get off our knees now, or people will wonder what we’ve got to pray about,’ Bob said. ‘I don’t want trouble on my wedding day, so I trust you and our friends to look out for Maisie and David as well as the nippers.’
‘You look a picture,’ Freda sighed as she handed Ruby her bouquet, ‘and these flowers are the finishing touch. Bob was crafty growing them without you knowing,’ she added, taking a final sniff before bending down to talk to Georgina, who was hopping about on one foot and taking no notice of what was going on around her. ‘Now, be a good girl and copy me when we walk down the aisle. Do you understand?’ Georgina nodded her head and carried on hopping whilst poking a finger up her nose.
‘The child’s a lost cause,’ Sarah sighed. ‘I knew it would be a mistake having her as one of your bridesmaids, Nan. If you want, I can take her inside the church to sit with Alan?’
‘You’ll do no such thing. I don’t care if she hops or dances down the aisle. Those children play a big part in my life and I want them with me when I get married. Our Pat is already miffed that I didn’t ask her girls to be bridesmaids. I’m beginning to wonder if I made a mistake. You know how she can moan for weeks on end. She grumbled that I invited Maisie’s three girls over some of my grandkids, but when those girls live in my street and Maisie made the frocks it’s the least I can do. Can you do a head count, Sarah? I’m sure we have some missing. I just want to peep inside the church to check that everyone is there.’
‘You can’t do that, Nan. Bob might see you, and that would be unlucky. Enough things have held up the pair of you marrying, let alone you starting off married life with a curse hanging over you both.’
‘Who are you looking for? I may be able to take a quick look for you?’ Freda asked.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Ruby said. ‘Here comes the vicar to give me a pep talk. Don’t let him go on too long, Sarah. We’ve still got a pile of things to do when we get home if we’re to feed all this lot.’
‘I told you, it’s all taken care of, Nan. Maureen’s been busy, and she said she’d get stuck in as soon as we’re home if there was anything left to do. I think it’s wonderful of you to share your wedding reception with the whole street.’
‘I couldn’t really have a party in my own home knowing the rest of Alexandra Road were celebrating the end of war in Europe without us, could I? Besides, we’d lose some of the guests once the singing and dancing started and they opened the barrel of beer I see being set up in front of number fourteen.’
‘Excuse me, are we too late for this wedding?’ a man with a Brummie accent asked as he tapped Freda on the shoulder.
Freda turned with a surprised look on her face, and shrieked with delight. ‘Lenny, what are you doing here? How did you know . . . ?’ She was lost for words as her brother hugged her tight and lifted her off her feet.
‘Someone wrote me a letter and invited us to the wedding. I made it to shore by the hair of my teeth, and then the train was held up with everyone trying to get to London for the celebrations . . .’
‘We?’ Freda asked, looking past her brother to where a pretty blonde woman stood looking shy. ‘Sally? It’s nurse Sally who we met when Mum was ill,’ she explained to Sarah, who had met the woman on several occasions and liked her very much.
‘Sis, I’d like you to meet Mrs Leonard Smith. We married on my last leave home two months ago, but wanted to tell you in person. You don’t mind missing our wedding, do you? It was just the two of us and a couple of witnesses, as I only had a twenty-four-hour leave.’
‘Of course I don’t mind. There is a war on . . .’ She stopped as her friends laughed at her. ‘I suppose we can’t use that excuse anymore,’ she grinned.
Freda struggled out of his arms to greet her new sister-in-law, and Sally whispered into her ear as they hugged. ‘I’m going to be an auntie? Already . . . ?’
Ruby wiped her eyes on the back of her white glove. She loved a happy ending. ‘Now, you two get yourself into the church. There’s a man in there most likely wondering what the hell is going on out here. He may even think I’ve changed my mind again.’
The girls laughed as they lined the children up behind Ruby, and George stepped from the back of the church to take his mother’s arm. They started to walk slowly up the aisle as the organ struck a note. Sarah gave her daughter a warning look as the child reached up to poke her finger back up her nose.
‘This must be the happiest day I’ve ever known,’ Freda whispered to her friend. ‘It’s a perfect day. From now on, we won’t have to live in fear or be worried for the future.’