Zelda and Ada ended up getting married on the same day, though not in the same church. Zelda and Frank got married in the local Register Office; in attendance were Alf Arkwright, cradling little Constanza in his arms, and Gracie, who had turned up that morning from Barrow and drove the small wedding party to the venue in the Bedford van that Frank had polished until it gleamed.
‘I hope you didn’t mind marrying me in a Register Office, my darling,’ Zelda whispered after the brief ceremony.
‘Stop thy fretting, little lass,’ Frank answered tenderly, as he kissed the bright gold wedding ring on her finger. ‘I told you right from the start, I understand your reasons for choosing the Register Office – why would a person of the Jewish faith marry in the Church of England?’ He grinned at his new wife before adding, ‘I’m quite sure God doesn’t mind either way.’
‘Oh, Frank, thank you,’ Zelda murmured as she stood on her tiptoes in order to reach up and kiss him. ‘Thank you for loving me,’ she added, as tears welled up in her gentle brown eyes.
‘All that matters is we’re married, man and wife,’ Frank added proudly. A squeak from hungry Constanza, still in Alf’s arms, caused Frank to smile before rearranging his sentence. ‘Sorry, little lady, who could ever forget you? Man, wife and baby – a right proper little family.’
‘Let’s get a move on,’ a grinning Gracie urged, as she unlocked the Bedford van for her passengers. ‘We’ve another wedding to go to, and that’s up the ’ill in Allithwaite.’
Allithwaite Church, beautifully decorated by Sister Theresa with fragrant flowers from the convent’s greenhouses, was packed with smiling guests – nuns, residents, relatives and friends. Even Dora had rallied to attend the ceremony, and, though the poor woman was a shadow of her former self, it was a joy to see her sitting in a pew beside her devoted husband.
Jamie had been granted five days’ leave, which he and Ada planned to spend walking in the Northern Fells, first stop Scafell Pike; their decision literally put the fear of God in Sister Mary Paul, who predictably announced the young couple were ‘completely out of their minds’.
‘We’ll be fine, Sister,’ a laughing Ada had assured the agitated nun.
‘But you can’t sleep on top of a mountain,’ Sister Mary Paul had chided. ‘And what will you eat?’
‘We have accommodation organized at a farm,’ Ada explained. ‘I promise you we won’t starve.’
What Ada didn’t tell the old nun was that her thoughts weren’t on eating either; passion and desire chased away any interest in food. The thought of spending all night long in bed with Jamie took Ada’s mind off everything but him. She could not wait to be Mrs Ada Reid and wake up every morning of her honeymoon wrapped in her beloved’s arms.
Walking down the aisle, bearing the lily of the valley bouquet that Zelda had made up for her, radiant, smiling Ada approached her beloved Jamie. She was followed closely behind by her bridesmaids, Gracie and Diana, the latter showing no strain from the two-hundred-mile journey she had made across England in order to be with Zelda and Ada on their wedding day. After the touching service enhanced by the chapel choir, who sang sweetly throughout the ceremony, the happy couple was showered in confetti before everybody headed back to Mary Vale for the wedding breakfast.
A few hours later, replete with food, sherry and good wishes, the two couples went their separate ways. Mr and Mrs Reid drove north to the highest mountain range in England, while Mr and Mrs Arkwright set off, with Constanza cradled in her mother’s arms, for Cartmel Cottage. As Jamie carried his young bride over the threshold of their bedroom, which overlooked Watendlath Tarn glowing like a jewel in the sunset light, Frank carried his wife and her daughter into their new home. For two young couples very much in love, life was beginning, and, though war raged all over the world, just for now the world stood still.