Alice's Long Road Home

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Alice's Long Road Home Page 13

by Rosie James


  ‘Of course we will!’ Don said. ‘Just try and keep us away!’ He glanced at Alice. ‘You’re a very special person to us, Alice…because a couple of years ago, you “gave” me my wonderful wife. And gave me a second chance of happiness. And I can never thank you enough for that,’ he added.

  ‘Of course you’re both invited!’ Alice began, and Gloria interrupted –

  ‘Have you got your dress yet – and where will you be leaving from…on the morning?’ she enquired. She leaned forward, her eyes shining with interest. ‘And who is going to give you away?’ she added.

  Alice didn’t answer for a second. Then – ‘Well, these are the things I haven’t been able to sort out, yet,’ she said slowly. ‘It’s all rather difficult… I’ve been looking for a dress but there hasn’t been anything much to choose from…’

  Gloria tutted. ‘I know, dear – the shops are empty, aren’t they?’ She frowned, thinking. ‘Why don’t you try advertising in the paper – putting a box number for the reply, obviously – to see if there’s a dress someone’s put by, and might like to sell?’ She paused. ‘Of course, no one really wants to wear a second-hand dress on their wedding day, do they, but these are difficult times.’ She squeezed Alice’s hand. ‘Don’t worry, dear – you’re sure to find something before December.’

  There was silence for a few moments after that, then –

  ‘And where will you be leaving from?’ Gloria asked again. ‘You can’t leave from Dorchester, can you – that would be much too far away.’

  Alice bit her lip, trying to find the right words without starting to cry. Sometimes – and this was one of them – she felt the loss of her parents so deeply it was worse than a physical pain. You can take aspirin for that. No aspirin cures an emotional pain. She cleared her throat. ‘Well…I – I’m not too sure what I’m going to do at the moment,’ she said slowly, ‘where I’m leaving from, or who is going to give me away…’

  Picking up her cue at once, Gloria leaned right over to Alice, grasping her arm. ‘Well then, why don’t you leave from here, dear,’ Gloria said, making a statement rather than asking a question. ‘Our house is the obvious place, surely! Because this has been your home, on and off, since 1939, hasn’t it, and when Don asked me to marry him I told him, straightaway, that your room upstairs would always be yours. And he was in complete agreement!’ Gloria leaned back, satisfied that that she’d solved one problem for Alice. And before Alice could say anything, Don stood up and came over to her side.

  ‘Please leave from here, Alice,’ he said quietly. He hesitated, and in the few seconds’ silence it was as if the room was waiting for the next question. ‘And…if you cannot think of anyone you would prefer to give you away, dear,’ Don went on, ‘please do think of me. Because may I say that it would be an honour to enjoy that privilege?’ He waited before going on. ‘You are someone very special in our lives, mine and Gloria’s,’ he said, ‘because it was you who walked with her down that aisle on our wedding day, wasn’t it? So – I think it would more than appropriate for me to do that for you. Don’t you agree, Alice?’

  Alice bit her lip, hard, trying not to break down. Not from sadness, now, but from gratitude – and relief – Sam had said that “it would all happen” – and he was being proved right! Again! She looked up at Don as he spoke…he was a tall, well-built man, his once-dark hair greying slightly, but it was the courteous manner, the kindness in his brown eyes that drew in the observer. If she couldn’t have her own darling Papa to hold her steady on her wedding day, Alice thought, then Don Travers would be the perfect substitute. She stood up to face him, and at once he put his arms lightly around her waist.

  ‘I…I would love you to give me away, Mr. Travers,’ she said slowly. She glanced down at Gloria. ‘And it would be…marvellous…to leave from here, Mrs. Travers…thank you so much for suggesting it,’ she added.

  Gloria’s excitement was getting the better of her, and she nearly knocked over the teapot as she stood up eagerly, going over to the others and throwing her arms around them both. ‘Oh my goodness me!’ she exclaimed. ‘How lovely, lovely, lovely! You’re going to be leaving from here on your special day – I’ll be helping you get dressed…and then Don is going to walk beside you, Alice! And I can promise you that he won’t let you down!’ Gloria stood back, her eyes shining with more than a hint of tears in her eyes. ‘I cannot believe the year we’re going to be having! First our baby, then our Alice’s wedding day…too many wonderful things happening all at once! And…let’s be honest,’ Gloria was getting carried away – ‘this time next year there might be a little Alice, or a little Sam, on the way!’

  Alice smiled. ‘I hope so, Mrs. Travers,’ she said, not bothering to add that that was something else she and Sam hadn’t talked about. Not yet. Well, there was no need to. When two people were in love, and getting married, producing the next generation was the accepted next step. Even more so for Alice, who couldn’t wait for her genes, her family genes, to add to the human race. And privately, Alice hoped that one day she would have twins…that was surely a possibility, with the Carmichaels’ genetic influence.

  Gloria sat down on the nearest chair to recover herself. ‘And you haven’t given in your notice yet, I don’t suppose,’ she said, ‘because of course the Dorchester house belongs to the firm, doesn’t it…but don’t forget – as soon as you do leave down there, you come straight here and settle in before the great day,’ she said firmly. ‘It’ll be good to do that…give you time to relax.’ Then – before anyone else had the chance to say a word, she went on, ‘And of course, there’s sure to be bridesmaids, you’ll be having bridesmaids, won’t you, Alice? What about their dresses?’

  ‘There will be four of them,’ Alice said. ‘Sam’s two sisters – the twins I’ve often told you about, Mrs. Travers – and Fay and Eve who you know about, as well. And we did look around for their dresses but didn’t have much luck with that, either.’

  ‘Well, on the day, they can all dress here, too, can’t they. ‘Gloria said excitedly. ‘Just imagine…everyone leaving from our house in the cars! All the neighbours – especially Dora – will be outside waiting to see you all, see everything! Wait ’til Dora knows about all this!’ Gloria fanned herself with her hanky. ‘I know I shan’t be able to sleep a wink the night before!’ she announced, looking up at Alice. ‘So I’m sure that a little night-cap, and then a drop of something in the morning to steady our nerves might be called for!’

  Chapter Ten

  After the appalling weather which had blighted the country for the first months of the year, the beginning of June brought a heat-wave, temperatures quickly reaching the nineties. People hardly liked to complain, since they’d been waiting a long time for the weather to break in their favour…but still, the transition was so dramatic it took many by surprise.

  It was hard to keep cool in the office, which seemed to be in sunlight for most of the day, so Alice kept the door permanently open to catch the draught. Valerie was one of the few who was revelling in this sudden change of climate. She would love to have sunbathed all day, stretched out on the little patio at the back.

  ‘I asked Mum to make sure my other cotton dress was washed,’ she said to Alice one day. ‘It’s so long since I’ve worn anything other than jumpers and skirts and rain coats, I’d had to search for my summer wear. It had completely disappeared beneath all the thick stuff in my drawer.’

  The open door of the shop encouraged passers-by to come in and browse, some of them staying a long time – largely in order to keep cool, Alice felt. But it did result in several serious enquiries, and she often found herself having to leave Valerie in charge while she took prospective buyers to view the properties.

  By the end of June, it looked as if three sets of clients were ready to sign, and there was such a rush of interest in summer flat-lettings that Alice often didn’t get home in the evening until nearly 8 o’clock. But she didn’t mind that…Alice loved being busy. The days flew by, giving her a l
ot more to think about than worrying about her future and finding her wedding dress – which, she admitted, was a relief. If she gave Valerie half a chance, it would be subject normal, non-stop.

  ‘They must be getting sick of me in the shops,’ the girl said to Alice one day, ‘because I keep pestering them about what might be coming in. And they keep saying that any day now they’re expecting a delivery. And I’ve told them that any bridal wear must be kept for us to look at first…everyone is in the same boat, and if anything half- decent arrives there’ll be a rush for it, won’t there?’ She looked at Alice solemnly. ‘I really hope we find it here, in town,’ she said, ‘because I want to have the first look at you in it!’

  It was sweet of the girl to be so interested, Alice thought, but it didn’t seem likely that a small town like Dorchester would be the first to exhibit anything special – if anything at all. London would probably get first choice of any deliveries, followed by cities like Bristol or Bath. And it had been decided that the first weekend in July Alice should go to Bristol, and Fay would drive them to Bath to meet Eve. To see if they’d have more luck than they’d had in Bristol.

  Evie was excited that they were coming. She’d written to Alice a couple of weeks ago.

  Dear Alice

  I can’t wait to see you and Fay again…I felt quite flat after our day in Bristol. I know we didn’t find your dress – or anything for Fay and me – but I so enjoyed meeting Sam, and seeing the house and everything. I think I’ve probably bored poor Max to bits, telling him all about it!

  So, you and Fay will come here on the 5th, and then we’ll trawl the shops –once again. My mother has been searching as well – she loves anything to do with clothes!

  My parents have said that they would love you to have tea with us that evening – and Max will be there as well. I’m dying for you to meet him. I hope you will like him as much as I liked Sam, Alice.

  So – see you on Saturday, early p.m. You and Fay know where we live. Then we hit the shops!

  Oodles and boodles of love – Evie

  On Tuesday morning of that week there was a telephone call from head office. Mr. Pennington was arriving on the midday train.

  Valerie was quite excited. ‘I like Mr. Pennington,’ she said to Alice. ‘He’s nice – but I wonder what he’s coming down here for?’

  Alice smiled. ‘Well, he has shown his face now and then, hasn’t he,’ she said, ‘just to make sure everything’s all right. And I hope he’s coming to pat us on the back for what we’ve achieved over the last six weeks.’ Head office was always kept fully informed about the success, or otherwise, of its branch offices.

  She glanced at Valerie who was just taking their coffee cups into the kitchen. ‘Do you mind dusting around the place a bit, Valerie,’ she said, ‘and making sure all the brochures and catalogues are tidy and in their right place? I’ll sort out the front of the window – there are two out-of-date adverts still there, and that won’t look good, will it?’ The fact was, Alice had been so taken up with arranging the deals that lesser details had had to take a second place lately.

  At 12.30 Mr. Pennington arrived – puffing slightly with having walked from the station in the heat – but he was all smiles as he greeted the girls. And why shouldn’t he be? This was one of their most successful branches, proving that he had been absolutely right in choosing Alice to head the new venture. Deciding to trust the job to a young woman in her twenties had been unusual, to say the least.

  He came in and shook their hands jovially – he enjoyed his visits outside London – and he especially enjoyed coming to this historic county town. He usually found some nice little thing in one of the shops to take home to his wife.

  Apparently he had had a sandwich on the train – and both the girls had topped up with buns at coffee time, so they skipped lunch and after chatting generally with them for a while, Mr. Pennington went through the books with Alice while Valerie manned the phone and spoke to the one or two clients who wandered in. But the sultry heat was keeping people out of the way, it seemed, so that the streets were largely empty with few people shopping.

  At 3.30 Valerie made their afternoon tea, and presently Mr. Pennington said, ‘I think we will shut the shop early today – my train back is not until 9 o’clock, but I would like to take you both to the Kings Arms for a meal – a celebratory meal – at 6.30.’ He smiled at them both. ‘And I expect you would like to go home for a freshen-up first.’ Mr. Pennington had a wife and daughter, and knew about these things. ‘I have booked a table.’ He glanced at the girls quickly. ‘I hope you haven’t already made other arrangements?’

  It wasn’t until she was getting ready at home, later, that Alice realized she’d not bothered to conceal her engagement ring from the boss. And had he noticed it? All the time he’d been there she’d thought of nothing else but work, explaining the flurry of interest – and the subsequent successful deals – that had taken place in recent weeks, the several site visits planned for tomorrow and Thursday. For all of which she was being paid her more than generous salary. For the last few hours, Alice’s wedding, and the anxieties that went with it and all it signified, had taken a very back seat.

  She slipped into her cornflower-blue, cotton print dress, then brushed out her hair and re-tied it on top again as usual. They might be going out to dinner, but it was still business. Her flowing locks were kept for other, rather more special, people…

  At 6.20 she met Valerie outside the hotel, then they went in together. Mr. Pennington was sitting in the lounge bar, a glass of beer in his hands, and he stood up at once to greet them. Alice glanced at him quickly, remembering that first time she’d met her boss when he’d come down to the Bristol office. She’d had no idea, then, what he’d had in store for her.

  He was a rather short man, and now a bit portly, his receding hairline obviously doing its best to hold back the tide – but he had a kind face and a generous smile. And he was always courteous. Once she had left, Alice thought, she would really miss having Mr. Pennington in her life. One of the many things she was going to miss…

  After he had ordered drinks for the two girls – who both chose a lager shandy – he led them into the dining room and a waiter showed them to their round table in the corner by the window. The place was just nicely crowded, and as they all sat down facing each other, Mr. Pennington’s beam grew even larger. At the end of a busy day, having an evening meal in a good restaurant was one of life’s pleasures, especially when in the company of two very attractive girls. If his wife and daughter couldn’t be here with him, then Miss Watts and Miss Gates would do very nicely! And they were both looking charming. Not only that, it having been confirmed earlier that his firm’s Dorchester branch was going from strength to strength, Alice’s boss was in no doubt that he was going to enjoy his evening very much indeed.

  Presently, the waiter took their order and Mr. Pennington sat back, folding his hands across his ample stomach and beaming across at his two guests.

  ‘Now then, quite apart from shop-talk,’ he said jovially, ‘let’s hear about other things in your lives. I’m sure you both have many outside interests.’

  Alice felt her heart-rate quicken. Mr. Pennington had obviously not even noticed her engagement ring – and she exchanged a quick look with Valerie. Could they – should they – still keep quiet about it?

  Then Alice made up her mind. She hated being devious, and although she’d not wanted to give in her notice for some time yet, she couldn’t possibly keep it a secret from Mr. Pennington. Even if it did mean that she’d be out of a job, and out of her house, sooner rather than later. She cleared her throat.

  ‘As a matter of fact, Mr. Pennington,’ she began, ‘I am engaged to be married and…’

  He sat forward at once, his face a mixture of surprise – and disappointment. This girl, his protégée, would obviously soon be leaving…and why hadn’t it struck him before that that could one day be a distinct possibility? Young women get married all the time, and
they want to have families…but he had somehow thought that this one was different. For one thing, she had immersed herself in the business with such diligence – and expertise – that he could imagine her eventually coming to London. And taking over his job!

  After what seemed like a very long time to Alice, he broke the few moments’ silence. ‘Well…my dear…’ he began, ‘I can only say that I congratulate your intended…he um, he is a very lucky man.’ Then Mr. Pennington sat forward, taking Alice’s left hand in his, his eyes widening slightly as he examined the diamond on her finger. This was an expensive ring…‘And when is the marriage to take place?’ he enquired.

  ‘Oh, not for a long time, Mr. Pennington,’ Alice assured him. Then, partly because she’d been promised a home, if necessary, with Gloria and Don until the wedding, but mostly because she wanted to be truthful with her boss, she came right out with it. ‘I wasn’t sure when the best time was to give you my notice, but I was delaying it for a few months because I need as much money as I can earn to pay for everything,’ she said truthfully, ‘and also…also because I would like to stay in my house – your house – for as long as possible,’ she added, looking straight at him as she spoke. Honesty was the best policy, and she couldn’t have put it more plainly.

  He was still holding her hand lightly in his, and he returned her gaze, his feeling of regret that he was to lose Alice Watts changing to one of simple compassion. He knew her background. He knew that she had no family, that she had had to carve out her own destiny by herself. Which was one of the reasons he’d seen her as a natural career girl. He bit his lip. Now, she was going to get married – and was obviously concerned about all the costs involved in a wedding. But surely that was always a parental, a father’s prerogative? A point made only too clear to himself just this last weekend, as a matter of fact. Except that for Alice, there was no father. Or mother. The situation must be a lonely one for this dear girl…

 

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