‘I don’t look like me,’ she said at last in a small voice.
‘You’re looking at a beautiful bride, my dear. No tears, don’t you dare!’
‘I hope you’ll be proud of me one day . . .’
‘I couldn’t be prouder of you than I am now, Rose Marie.’
A tap on the door. ‘Are you ready?’ Stella’s voice. ‘The girls are waiting, and so is the wedding car to take us all together, hope you don’t mind, and I’ll hold the baby, shall I? Your flowers are on the table. Jose has gone straight to the church, with Lilli and Sam.’
‘We’re ready,’ Rose Marie replied. There were gasps from those waiting when they saw her in all her splendour. She picked up her bouquet of pink and cream roses and Florence draped a shawl round her shoulders.
‘You mustn’t catch cold!’
‘There’s a crowd waiting outside the shop to give you a cheer,’ Josefina said, excited.
‘Oh dear, I hadn’t expected that! Let’s go and face the music then!’
The bells were ringing; inside the church choirboys were singing; there were polished pews and extravagant hats on shingled heads. The lamp standards were wound round with pink ribbon and there were flowers on every windowsill. These decorations had been earlier arranged by Mrs Short and Sadie to surprise the bride.
As she walked down the aisle on Manny’s arm, followed by the bridesmaids, also in pink with Juliet caps, Rose Marie sensed he was more nervous than she was. She gave a cheery little wave with her bouquet as she passed each pew and visibly quickened her pace, out of step with the music, as she approached Russ, waiting with Elmo at the front. She passed her bouquet to Josefina, then she slipped her hand in Russ’s with a squeeze to show all was well.
‘Here we go,’ she whispered, making him smile.
The solemn promises were made, prayers were said and hymns were sung. The vicar, who had looked anxious until the bride arrived, visibly relaxed. Then formal photographs were taken plus informal snaps with box cameras by the assembled guests.
Florence was beginning to wonder if she had been rash in inviting so many back to the rooms over the pie shop. But there was plenty of food put out ready in the larder, she reassured herself; the ham and chickens already carved; the bowls of salad and dishes of relish; just the tea to make when they got back and the bread to cut; the splendid wedding cake to stand centre-table.
Thank goodness, she thought, Flynn slept in Stella’s arms throughout the service! Stella looked really maternal, as she never did when Josefina was a baby. Maybe, she mused, Stella has taken my advice and there’s a happy event in the offing. Jose’s attitude to family life certainly has improved. He’s even teaching pupils himself – the Spanish guitar!
She turned her attention to Lilli and Sam, who were taking a lift in Elmo’s van, together with the little girls, who refused to be parted. Sam had his arm firmly round his wife’s shoulders, and it was obvious to Florence that they were well on the way to a happy ending.
‘How are you getting back?’ Florence asked Russ’s mother and sister.
‘We’re expecting a taxi cab to come for us shortly,’ Mrs Short replied. ‘Look, your sister is signalling you to take the baby, I believe. She and her husband can come with us. We’ll be with you soon!’
The bride and groom sat in the front of the big wedding car; Florence and Manny in the back, with Flynn. She jigged the hungry baby in her arms to prevent him crying.
‘You see to him first, when we get home. I’ll get the guests settled, with a glass of something to keep ’em happy,’ Manny whispered in her ear. ‘We’ll be the first back!’
The wedding breakfast went off smoothly, thanks to all their hard work beforehand. Elmo made a splendid speech, Manny a more hesitant but equally heartfelt one.
At six o’clock Mrs Short, Sadie and Elmo said goodbye, and the congestion eased a little in the sitting-room.
‘Elmo has tickets for the Fred and Adele Astaire musical,’ Mrs Short told them.
‘I should be able to give old Stan a few tips afterwards,’ Sadie laughed. ‘George Gershwin’s wonderful music, how I’d love to be in a show like Lady Be Good.’
‘Enjoy yourselves!’ was the chorus.
Florence rushed out to the kitchen to cut two more pieces of wedding cake. ‘Take these back for your fiancé, Sadie, and his son. We must wish you all the best for your own wedding in December.’ She paused, ‘I want to thank you for all you did for Rose Marie . . .’
‘I’m glad it had this happy outcome,’ Sadie said sincerely.
When Buck and Annie arrived there was more cake-cutting and glasses of wine.
Buck looked sheepish in a jacket which Lilli recognized. Philippe must have missed that one, she thought. Annie had obviously emptied the wardrobe in his flat after his departure.
‘It’s funny how things turn out,’ Annie said to Lilli. ‘I suppose you can say I met Buck through you, in a roundabout sort of way. And you got back together with your Sam when it seemed you never would. Did you ever discover what Philippe was looking for?’
Lilli shook her head. ‘No. But strangely enough, after all these years, my mother got in touch with me . . . I can’t help wondering if he had something to do with that.’
‘You’ll see her again, will you?’
‘Not yet. A lot to sort out first. I need to know if she was involved in my abduction.’
Rose Marie joined them. ‘We’ll be off shortly. I have to get changed first – I don’t want to advertise the fact we’re just married . . .’
‘I don’t know why not,’ Lilli said, giving her a hug. ‘Anyone can see that.’
‘Oh, well! Excuse me, anyway.’ She beckoned Florence to follow her into the bedroom.
‘We said we wouldn’t tell anyone, but, in case you’re worrying where we’re off to so late in the evening,’ Rose Marie confided to Florence, as she helped her out of her wedding gown, ‘we’re spending tonight in Park Lane, W1: Elmo’s wedding present to us! D’you know, I think he rather fancies Russ’s mother – taking them to a show no less!’
‘Not a very ladylike expression,’ Florence mildly reproved her.
‘Well, I think she thought I was an abandoned hussy when she caught Russ and me in an embrace the first time I visited her house!’
‘Hmm . . . just tell me, are you going further afield tomorrow, I wonder?’
‘I’m afraid you’ll have to wonder until our return. Not out of the country, though!’
Florence hung the wedding clothes in the wardrobe. She turned, then held out her arms. ‘One last hug in private! Is everything all right between us now?’
‘Darling Florence, it is! I can leave knowing you won’t be lonely with Manny and Flynn to fill your life, and you can be sure I’m ready to be a good wife, if not a conventional one!’
*
‘Two baths in one day, but I couldn’t slip between these fine sheets without, could I?’ Rose Marie asked Russ, padding into the hotel bedroom wrapped round with a towel.
‘Don’t interrupt me when I’m shaving. That’s twice in one day, too!’
‘Is that so I can relish the smoothness of your face?’ She allowed the towel to drop.
He turned from the basin, still lathered up, shaving brush in hand. ‘Not at all, I don’t want to snag that impressive linen with my beard. Oi! Don’t mess my side of the bed up.’
‘I’m testing the mattress. At least the bed doesn’t creak, like the one at your mother’s.’
‘That bed was only intended for one,’ he reminded her. ‘Do put something on, Rose Marie. I’m going to ring room service and ask for an omelette to eat in bed, only I won’t say the last bit, of course. Despite all we ate in Paradise, I have a distinct hollow feeling.’
‘So have I. I fancy an omelette too, with a jug of percolated coffee and cream.’
‘Well, perhaps we ought to eat at the table, after all. You haven’t got a pinny.’
‘All right.’ She climbed ou
t of bed, smoothed the eiderdown. ‘Where’s my dressing-gown?’
Some time later, they switched off the lights and turned back the covers again.
‘Are you looking forward to returning to the inn in Norfolk tomorrow?’ she asked. ‘No one could possibly guess that’s where we’re going.’
‘Except for Elmo, as we’re borrowing the van. I said we’d collect it at ten.’
She wriggled her way into the centre of the big bed. He rolled towards her.
‘I had the same thought,’ he murmured, enfolding her in his arms.
‘I’m so glad I married you,’ she whispered.
‘Can’t you stop talking for a while?’
‘You know the answer to that,’ said Rose Marie demurely.
And, of course, he did.
TWENTY-FOUR
‘I can whistle through the gap in my teeth!’ Yvette demonstrated. It was a shrill sound.
‘Shush!’ Josefina winced. ‘The grown-ups will be cross if we wake them up. Sunday morning, remember. Mummy said we were to stay put in my bedroom until we heard the call to breakfast. I mentioned we were hoping for eggs and bacon but she said she wouldn’t be frying that, after all we ate yesterday. Well, I suppose they called that a breakfast, didn’t they?’
‘Can I come in the other end of your bed? We can see each other better then, and we can play with our dolls, can’t we, like we used to.’
‘All right. I shall miss Clarice, you know, when you take her away. Oh, mind where you’re putting your feet – they’re cold!’ Josefina complained as Yvette wriggled down in the bed.
Yvette, like Josefina, had shot up in height since they were last together. Her fuzzy curls had disappeared; her grandmother apparently disapproved of curling rags. She, too, now had plaits, though hers stuck out in a comical fashion because her hair was so fine.
‘Do you like being with both your parents?’ Yvette asked, as she checked that Clarice was still in good shape.
‘Do you?’ Josefina countered, hoping that Yvette wouldn’t spot what she had dubbed Clarice’s appendix scar, cobbled together by herself, because Stella had been ‘too busy’.
‘We-ell . . . I’m glad to get back to French cooking – my gran uses so much suet! And our new house is actually very old, and pokey, ’cause we can’t afford much rent, and Maman hasn’t got a job, ’cause Daddy says “wait and see”. I don’t know what for.’
‘I wish sometimes I could go back and live with Florence—’
‘So do I! Well, in Florence’s top flat. We had each other then, didn’t we?’ Yvette said.
‘Even though we fell out sometimes! I’ll tell you a secret. My mummy’s going to have a baby! I’ll have a brother or sister, she says, though that’s not much use to me, now I’m getting older, is it? I heard Mummy telling Daddy he’s got to knuckle down – whatever that is.’
‘I think you’re very lucky! It’s not fair, why can’t Maman have another baby?’
‘Maybe she isn’t trying what mine did to get one.’
‘What’s that?’ Yvette was intrigued.
‘I’m not sure. I might ask Aunty Florence. She’ll know, as she’s just had Flynn, eh?’
‘Oh,’ exclaimed Yvette accusingly. ‘What’s this?’ She held Clarice up, her soft body uncovered, revealing the clumsy stitching.
‘She needed an emergency operation.’ Josefina tried to sound convincing.
‘Got any scissors?’ Yvette demanded crossly. ‘I can sew properly; French girls always can. Spanish girls obviously can’t—’
‘Half-Spanish,’ Josefina reminded her. ‘I’ve got a pair in my girls’ sewing box.’
‘Give them to me! Then find me a fine needle and a reel of cotton!’
Josefina sat on her end of the bed, not daring to interrupt her friend’s concentration.
Snip, snip, went the tiny scissors. Yvette’s face was like a thunder-clap.
‘Look at this,’ she cried wrathfully. ‘A great big hole!’
‘It was only a tiny one—’
‘Yes, until you poked your fingers inside!’ Yvette demonstrated. Her expression changed to one of puzzlement. ‘What’s this?’ She dug deeper, and the filling trickled out.
Josefina watched in amazement as Yvette pulled something free, a small suede bag with a drawstring top. Yvette opened it up, and then gasped. ‘It’s full of beads!’
‘Put it back!’ Josefina urged.
‘No, I’m going to call Mummy. It could be hidden treasure!’
‘It looks like what you said it was, beads – old, black beads!’
‘Why are you making all this noise, so early?’ Stella said crossly from the doorway.
‘Yvette’s found something inside Clarice’s tummy she wants to show Lilli!’
‘I’m here,’ Lilli yawned, having come from the bedroom nextdoor. ‘Show me what?’
‘There’s something else,’ Yvette squealed. ‘A piece of paper, folded very small.’
‘Careful,’ her mother advised. ‘Give it to me. Run and fetch your father.’
When Sam arrived, and the paper was smoothed out, Lilli perused it carefully.
‘What is it?’ Stella asked.
‘It’s written in French. I’ll translate . . . it appears to be a copy of my father’s will! The address is our family chateau in France. It is dated August 1914.
My dearest Lilli,
I have been called to defend our country in the certain knowledge we shall soon be at war again. I must ensure that my affairs are in order, but I hope you will not read this until you are a grown woman, many years from now, and the secret is out. Because I do not have a son, the chateau will pass to my brother, or if he pre-deceases me, to his son. He must honour his promise to care for your mother and you, if I die in this conflict. Your mother will inherit some money and artefacts which do not belong to the property.
To you, my only child, I bequeath my grandmother’s necklace of rare black pearls. You may never wear them but you will have them as your security if you encounter hard times. I have pondered how to keep the necklace safe, if the enemy should come to our gates. The doll is always with you, I pray no one will suspect.
My love always, Lilli. Your father.
‘It is signed by him.’ Lilli looked up with tears in her eyes.
The children were quiet now, very solemn. It was Sam who spoke first.
‘Did your father sew the doll up himself, do you think?’
‘As he always mended my toys, I imagine that he did. My mother must have wondered where the pearls had disappeared to, after he left us. She couldn’t be sure, of course, but she must have suspected I had them,’ Lilli said.
Sam put his arm round her. ‘Come back to our room now, we need to talk.’
Stella said quickly, ‘I’ll keep the girls occupied. Get dressed, you two, then come downstairs and I’ll cook you that breakfast you asked for, even if it does turn my stomach.’
In their bedroom, Lilli handed the pearls to Sam. ‘Look after these while I get dressed.’
‘We can’t go home this afternoon as we planned. Tomorrow, we must find a solicitor and ask his opinion. Then we ought to have the necklace valued at a reputable jeweller’s.’
She discarded her nightdress, thinking his words over, not conscious of her nakedness.
On an impulse Sam came up behind her. He said softly, ‘You must wear the necklace once. Let me fasten it for you . . .’
She spun round. ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she whispered.
‘Do you?’ He seemed mesmerized by the necklace gleaming against her pale skin.
‘Yes. It’s just as if we’re falling in love all over again.’
*
‘It’s raining, like the last time we were here,’ Rose Marie observed, as they drew up outside the White Hart Inn.
Russ opened the van door on her side with a flourish. ‘Well, it’s autumn now, what d’you expect? Anyway, we didn’t let the weather bother us then, did we? And this time we
don’t need to creep about between rooms upstairs.’
‘I suppose we could have plundered the nest-egg and gone abroad,’ she mused. ‘Then the waves would have been nice warm ones under blue skies, not’ – she patted her hair ruefully – ‘the kind of waves which flatten out when it’s wet.’
‘I don’t mind where I am, as long as I’m with you,’ he said.
The landlady recognized them. ‘Mr and Mrs Short, congratulations and welcome! Would you like to order your evening meal now, before you go upstairs to unpack? I expect you could do with a pot of tea. I’ll bring one up in a while, shall I?’
‘Please,’ Rose Marie smiled.
They changed into more casual clothes in the bedroom. Rose Marie put on a woollen frock in cherry red with long sleeves, thicker stockings and flat shoes. As she combed her hair, which retained a slight curl, Russ pulled a thick jersey over his head.
‘That looks like a cricket pullover,’ she said.
‘That’s because it is. A relic of my school days. The back knitted by my dear sister in stocking stitch, the front by my mother, because of the cable pattern. It’s a favourite of mine.’
‘Florence does all the knitting in our family, but at least I can sew!’
‘You’re a marvel at that!’ he said fondly.
Later, they enjoyed their meal by a blazing log fire. Plates of tender beef stew, with Norfolk spoon dumplings, whole small carrots and onions, covered in rich, glutinous gravy. The second course was just as filling, apple pie with clotted cream.
Rose Marie leaned back in her chair, after the table was cleared.
‘We should sleep well tonight, if we don’t suffer from indigestion,’ she said.
‘We need a spot of exercise,’ he thought. ‘Let’s go for a stroll.’
‘It’s almost dark,’ she reminded him.
‘Round the green, then, and back. The fresh air should revive us. Come on!’
They came upon the old chapel. Curious, they tiptoed up to the arched side window and peered in. A figure moved in the gloom, made more eerie by a single dangling light bulb.
‘D’you think it’s a ghost?’ Rose Marie clutched at her husband’s arm.
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