Edmond consulted his watch. ‘Another half hour and we should set out for the church.’
He looked out of the hall window at the pale sunshine. A young man in a peaked cap was cycling up their drive.
‘Looks like there’s a telegram,’ Charles said. ‘Must be someone sending congratulations,’ he added nervously.
These days most telegrams brought bad news. ‘I imagine so,’ Edmond said.
He stepped outside to collect the wire, which was addressed to him. He ripped it open, read it quickly and gasped. They can’t really mean that, he thought, and read it again. He began walking back mechanically towards the house. He screwed up the telegram and stuffed it into a pocket.
‘Nothing serious, I hope,’ said Charles.
‘Nothing important,’ he replied.
* * *
Amy and Florence were dressing for the wedding. They were glad that Lavinia had been able to get leave this time.
‘How long will you have for the honeymoon in London?’ Florence asked.
‘Only two full days, then Edmond has to set off back.’ If only they could have more time together.
Florence had arranged her light brown wavy hair in curls at the front and a coil at the nape of her neck. ‘If Beatrice is coming, she’s leaving it till the last minute,’ she said.
‘No – look – there she is,’ Amy said with relief as the Derwents’ motor car drove up. But the figure getting out was not Beatrice, though she was followed by the Derwents’ maid.
Amy’s mother brought up the new arrival. ‘There’s been a last-minute change to the arrangements,’ she said nervously.
In walked Vicky, Edmond’s cousin. Her auburn hair still hung long and loose but she seemed to have grown up a little since Amy had first met her at the party nearly a year before.
‘Is it all right for me to take Beatrice’s place?’ she asked. ‘Edmond asked me, and I’d be thrilled to be your bridesmaid.’
‘Of course you can!’ Amy hugged her.
‘Only I haven’t got a bridesmaid’s dress. Beatrice’s one wouldn’t fit at all, even if I tried to wear a fearsomely tight corset like she does. There’s just this pale yellow dress I brought with me.’ She held up a delicate silk gown in front of her.
‘It’ll be perfect,’ Amy assured her, and the maid helped her dress.
* * *
Edmond waited breathlessly next to Charles in the chill stone church as the organist played a piece from an everyday repertoire. He hardly dared look at his watch. Suddenly the music was interrupted with a dramatic chord and the man began to play Widor’s Toccata. He turned to see his bride entering the church on her father’s arm. How beautiful she was, and with a wide smile which seemed just for him. Overcome, he gazed at her as she advanced up the aisle to join him.
There was an almost audible sound of relief from the congregation. Amy’s Uncle Arthur stepped forward and the service began. Was it Edmond’s imagination or was he hurrying through the service a little faster than was usual, anxious some catastrophe might occur to interrupt it?
But of course nothing went wrong. At last Edmond was able to place the golden wedding ring on Amy’s dainty finger, gently lift her gauzy veil and kiss her sweet face. Then they went to the vestry to sign the documents. His parents joined them to witness their signatures. Pa was gracious but Ma subdued, exchanging the briefest of kisses with her daughter-in-law. Young Vicky was beaming.
The organist played another anthem as they walked back down the aisle, past the smiling congregation. Besides the guests they had invited there were many local people. Miss Miller, who had once given Beatrice singing lessons, looked curiously at Amy. Was she expecting some kind of disruption, having heard what happened last time? She was bound to notice that his sister was absent.
He sat beside Amy in the car, his arm round her shoulders, breathing her floral fragrance. Soon they were arriving at his home for the reception. Only half as many people had been invited this time and the banquet was more modest, but the ones coming were those he loved. As he helped Amy out of the car she smiled at him, seeming to brighten the autumn day.
‘I’ve never been so happy,’ she whispered.
* * *
Amy greeted Aunt Louisa, who was slowly adjusting to widowhood and had managed to come to the wedding this time.
‘I knew Edmond was the right one for you, when I met him that time last year before the war started,’ she said.
Amy smiled at the memory of that momentous day at the seaside. She hurried on to hug Lavinia, tall in a well-tailored light brown autumn suit. ‘Was it hard for you to get leave?’ she asked.
‘Fairly, but I was determined to be here!’ Lavinia clasped Edmond’s hand warmly. ‘At last the two of you are together,’ she said, beaming.
Then Amy clung to her husband’s arm as she was introduced to some of his friends and relations she had not met before, and who greeted her warmly. The only embarrassment came when guests enquired after Beatrice. If only she had grown to like me, Amy thought. Edmond and his family moved the conversation on as smoothly as they could. Amy had the impression a few of his relatives were gossiping, and whispering to late arrivals not to enquire about his sister’s absence.
She resolved not to dwell on the awkwardness. With her hand in Edmond’s she felt enveloped in a joyful glow, so that the reception passed in a blur. She noticed Charles talking to Lavinia. The two of them had met occasionally at social events, she gathered.
When luncheon was served, Amy was aware of an impressive array of dishes but could scarcely eat or drink. When the speeches began she hardly noticed what was said, except when Edmond spoke of his bliss at finding the girl to share his life. Then he gave a start, for some reason, as Father produced a telegram to read. It was from Bertie, disappointed he was unable to attend and wishing them joy.
At last Florence accompanied her upstairs to change out of her wedding dress. She took off her veil and her friend brushed her hair.
‘I didn’t know Lavinia was friends with Charles Shenwood,’ Florence said.
Amy had been vaguely aware of Charles being sociable as ever, attentive to Florence as well as Lavinia. ‘They’re both part of the same social set in Alderbank, I gather,’ she replied as she put on her best blue winter skirt.
‘I’ve been longing for the hours to pass so we can leave,’ she told Florence, ‘yet I can hardly remember how I’ve passed them.’ She slipped into the matching jacket. ‘I hope one day you’re as happy as I am,’ she told her friend. She was thinking of Bertie, but it seemed premature to suggest what a fine couple they would make. She picked up her bouquet and presented it to Florence. Her friend looked overcome with delight as she breathed in the heady fragrance of the roses, then set them down and made sure Amy’s hat was straight.
When they returned downstairs, Edmond seemed as impatient as his bride and hurried her past their relatives, crying out their goodbyes and thanks and waving to those furthest away. The chauffeur helped her into the family car.
They embraced in the back as they passed dim fields and copses. Flocks of birds swooped round against the reddening sky. Edmond’s lips claimed hers.
At last the chauffeur was driving them through the outskirts of London as night fell and then on to their hotel in a square in Kensington. Once there, they were shown to their room, beautifully furnished with dark red brocade curtains and bedspread. A vase of giant white chrysanthemums adorned the walnut writing desk.
‘Do I need to change for dinner?’ she asked, for she had packed her blue silk gown.
‘Only if you want to,’ he said. ‘People observe fewer formalities now we’re at war.’
‘Maybe I’ll wear it tomorrow.’
He led her down to the dining room. ‘I don’t think I can manage much to eat,’ she told him. He ordered them a light dish of poultry and some wine. She was aware of the draped curtains and high ceiling of the smart restaurant, and the buzz of conversation around them. There were other young men there
in uniform. She ate a little of her meal, her eyes resting repeatedly on Edmond’s handsome, smiling face, barely able to believe that at last he was her husband.
Soon they were heading, hand in hand, into the lift. He held her and rested his face against hers during the brief flight between floors. As he unlocked their room he turned and gazed at her with an intense expression which made her tingle with excitement.
He turned off the lights except one lamp to shed a soft glow, then took her in his arms. ‘Dearest, I’ve longed for this moment,’ he said as he led her to the bed. As he gently helped her ease off her clothes he fondled her fair skin, whispering words of love.
* * *
Amy awoke as it grew light, which was not especially early at that time of year. There was the sound of traffic outside. She yawned and stretched luxuriously. All the waiting was over: she was finally Mrs Derwent. But there were only two days until Edmond left. As he slept, she admired his straight nose and well-spaced features.
He stirred, then sat up and consulted his watch, which lay on the bedside table. ‘It’s gone seven!’ he exclaimed. Then he caught her in his arms and kissed her tenderly. The stubble on his unshaven face was a little rough against her skin. ‘Last night was perfect,’ he told her.
The next minute he was on his feet, gathering together his clothes. She admired the strong arms and broad chest she had first noticed when he was swimming in the sea at Hove that time: he was a fine, healthy-looking young man. ‘We’d better get up and make sure we don’t miss breakfast,’ he told her.
What’s the rush? she thought. She wanted to get the most from the day, go for a walk in nearby Kensington Gardens if the weather was fine, perhaps go to a show in the evening. But she had imagined a leisurely start to the day. When he seemed determined to get ready quickly she too began her preparations.
Before long they were sitting in the breakfast room, giving their order to the waiter, who would fetch their meal from the array of hot serving dishes.
‘There isn’t any particular hurry, is there, Edmond?’ she asked him.
His cheerful manner dissolved into a look of concern. ‘Yes, I’m afraid there is. I shouldn’t really be here.’
‘What?’
‘I was due to take a train back yesterday. They sent me a telegram. They need urgent reinforcements at the Front, apparently.’
‘But you’re on leave till the day after tomorrow!’
‘It seems the war takes precedence.’ He pulled the crumpled telegram from his pocket. ‘I should have taken a train at five pm yesterday. We could still have got married but we’d have enjoyed scarcely any time together afterwards. I was determined we’d at least have one night together.’
‘So you ignored the order?’ Her heart fluttered with alarm.
‘Yes. And I don’t regret it.’ He seized her hand across the table and fixed his blue eyes on hers. ‘Nothing was to keep us apart this time.’
‘Oh, darling!’ How could she question his disobedience in these circumstances? ‘Will you be in terrible trouble?’
‘I’d better go to the station before they come to arrest me,’ he said. ‘I need to make it clear I’m not flunking my duties.’
‘I can at least come to the station with you and see you off.’ How could she bear to part with him so soon?
‘I should see you on to a train home and then go to my station,’ he said.
‘It’s all right, I can get an omnibus or an underground train and then the mainline train home. I can manage.’
‘You must take a cab. It’ll be wonderful if you can see me off. There might be a hoo-ha, though, because I was meant to travel on a certain train yesterday and now I’ve missed it they’ll need to find a place for me on another one.’
The morning was spoilt as they rushed their breakfast. He went to the foyer to phone his father to explain why Amy was returning earlier than expected.
‘Someone’s already phoned them to enquire about my whereabouts,’ he told her with a rueful smile.
They returned quickly to their room to collect their outdoor clothes and luggage. As they went to the foyer, two stern-looking senior officers came in.
Now Edmond looked pale, but the newcomers wandered to the reception desk and seemed to be calmly booking rooms.
‘We’d better go before they really do come to arrest me,’ he said, hurrying her through the large glass doors into the chilly street outside. Thin sunlight shone on the very last golden leaves on the trees in the square as he hailed a cab. As their vehicle wound its way between motor cars, buses and horses and carts in the teeming streets her stomach churned with shock that he was leaving her so soon.
They reached the station, crowded with soldiers. An incoming train was offloading casualties on stretchers and one of the men was groaning with the movement.
‘Which is your train?’ she asked, surveying the busy platforms and hoping she would not start crying.
‘The one which left yesterday afternoon,’ he shrugged. ‘Now I’ve got to ask someone in command how best to get back.’
He strode through the crowds, still carrying her suitcase as well as his kit, and she hurried to keep up. He made for an officer who was checking typed sheets and gave an account of his predicament.
‘You missed your train? You’re in a lot of trouble,’ she heard the officer tell him. ‘You’ll probably find yourself on a charge.’
‘I’m eager to rejoin my unit on the first available transport,’ he said.
‘Going Absent Without Leave is a very serious offence,’ the officer barked at him, shuffling his papers. ‘And now it’s not just a case of finding you a place on a train to the coast. Your transport all the way back to your unit was planned for yesterday. Have you any idea how much disruption you’re causing?’
‘Very sorry, Sir.’
The officer ran his finger down a sheet of paper. ‘You’d better board that train on platform two. I’ll put you in the charge of Captain Purbright who’ll find you a ship and ongoing transport back to your unit.’
‘Platform two, darling,’ Edmond told her.
‘Look lively, man! It leaves in five minutes.’
They hurried to the platform and the officer handed him over to Captain Purbright.
Edmond gave Amy her suitcase and money for a cab.
‘Get on board!’ The captain made no concession to her presence.
Edmond gave her a quick embrace. ‘I’m most desperately sorry, darling,’ he cried, then climbed on board and blew her a kiss. ‘I’ll write. Let’s hope it’s not too long before we’re together again.’
The whistle blew and she watched in dismay as the train began to move off.
She broke into a run. ‘I love you so much, darling! Stay safe for me.’
* * *
Amy got off the train at Larchbury and walked along the street with her small suitcase. The previous day had been momentous but how swiftly and disturbingly their honeymoon had ended! How could the army seize Edmond back so soon after they were wed? Were they fated to never have more than a few snatched hours together?
He was heading back into danger at this very minute, to say nothing of probable sanctions for disobeying an order. Her steps slowed as she headed for The Beeches, wishing she might have gone home to her parents’ house in Sebastopol Terrace.
It was past midday as she walked up the driveway between the beech trees, almost bare at this time of year. The family would be taking luncheon.
The butler let her in. ‘Good day, Miss – excuse me, Mrs Derwent.’
She set down her case and outdoor clothes. She would have liked to slip quickly up to her room, but it seemed rude.
She walked into the dining room. They all looked up and Mr Derwent stood up. ‘Sit down, Amy, I’ll get Cook to bring you some luncheon.’
‘Thank you, though I’m not very hungry.’
His wife looked put out and Beatrice downright hostile.
‘The authorities were on the phone, first thing this mor
ning, enquiring about Edmond,’ Mrs Derwent said, her cool blue eyes probing Amy’s face. ‘It was very embarrassing. We had no idea he was due to set off back yesterday afternoon.’
‘I saw him off on a train soon after ten,’ she said.
His father rang the bell to summon Cook. She arrived, a little flustered, and happily agreed to bring Amy some lunch.
‘It’s a serious matter, going AWOL,’ Mr Derwent said.
‘I expect Amy put him up to it,’ Beatrice said. ‘She’s got no respect for the law. We were a decent family before he got to know her.’
‘That’ll do, Beatrice,’ said her father.
‘I didn’t know he was supposed to go back yesterday,’ Amy said miserably. ‘I didn’t find out about it till this morning.’
Would they believe her, she wondered as she consumed her soup.
Cook brought her a plate of meat and dumplings. How far had Edmond travelled by now? she speculated. Perhaps he was crossing the Channel. What kind of disciplinary action might he face when he returned late to his unit?
Beatrice fidgeted as Amy picked at her main course.
‘Please begin your dessert,’ she said. ‘There’s no need to wait for me.’
‘Take your time, Amy,’ Mr Derwent insisted.
Beatrice continued to watch her sullenly. Amy was relieved Edmond had not revealed sooner that he was disobeying an order. She doubted if she could have found the resolution to persuade him to rush to the station immediately after their wedding ceremony.
But she was part of the Derwent family now and must do her best to get along with them.
Chapter Twelve
Flanders and Larchbury, November to December 1915
Edmond found himself in a carriage with two other men, both privates, who were late back, and Captain Purbright, a broad-shouldered man who was anxious to make them aware of their disgrace.
‘I’m very sorry for missing my train, Sir,’ he told the captain. ‘I got married yesterday.’
Until We Meet Again Page 11