‘We can all toast the happy couple,’ Effie said as she passed round the tea. ‘It’s not champagne, but it’s just as nice,’ she added.
Tony got to his feet and in a very posh voice said, ‘To the happy couple. May they live long and prosper.’
‘The happy couple,’ they all chanted.
‘I didn’t know you could speak as posh as that,’ Freda said to Tony. ‘Perhaps you should use that voice when you accept your gold medal at the Olympics.’
‘The Olympics? Isn’t that next year?’ Effie asked as she carried a meat pie into the room and placed it in the middle of the table. ‘It’s more kidney and carrot that steak and kidney, but for all that it’s tasty. I’ve got some mash to go with it,’ she added, hurrying to the kitchen and coming back with a dish of potatoes. ‘Now, what’s all this about the Olympics? And did you know an ambulance went to your friend’s house across the road this afternoon?’
Freda smiled to herself. Effie was such a joy to have in the house, and never stopped chatting. The one subject she never mentioned was her link to that house in Wheatley Terrace, which had weighed heavily on Freda’s mind but now didn’t seem so important . . . While the girl dished up the food, Freda told her about Georgina’s illness; then Tony explained why they had mentioned the Olympics.
‘So you’ve got a year to get fit and learn how to ride a bike faster than anyone else,’ Effie said, making the task sound easy.
Tony laughed. ‘Nine months, and before then I have to prove to the selectors that I’m worthy of a place in the team by doing well in a few cycling trials. So, once I’ve eaten this, I shall help with the washing up and then be off to my bed. I take it you still want to join me when I go out for my training rides?’ he asked Freda.
‘Certainly,’ she said, forking potato into her mouth.
‘Then be ready at half past five tomorrow morning, as that’s when we start,’ he replied before thumping Freda on the back as she started to choke after his words sunk home.
‘At least you’ll be fit, Freda,’ Effie chuckled.
With their meal finished, Freda insisted that Lemuel and Sadie needn’t help with the washing up, and left them alone in the dining room. As the others headed to the kitchen with the dirty plates, there was silence for a while as the couple struggled to think of where to begin.
It was Sadie who took the bull by the horns. ‘It will be wonderful to see Tony compete in the Olympics. I recall Nan telling me about the earlier one when she was a small child.’
‘I didn’t know that there had been another in this country. Then it is surely a fine honour to be invited a second time,’ Lemuel said politely.
‘I suppose you’ll miss the Olympics if Tony competes, as you will have gone home by then to be with your wife and child?’ Sadie said, knowing that she had to ask the question. His answer was bound to break her heart, but she couldn’t leave something like this left unsaid.
‘Sadie, I . . .’ Lemuel began, but seemed unable to continue.
‘We need to talk about this, Lemuel. You see, I have a vested interest in your future – as does Arthur, who has come to love you. And also . . .’
Lemuel frowned. ‘Also?’
‘Also . . . our unborn child. It’s early days, but I know the signs. My body is telling me that I’m to expect a happy event.’
Lemuel beamed and reached across the table to take her hand, but she quickly pulled it away.
‘You have to be honest with me, Lemuel. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, and we both know that a future for us and any children we bring into the world will be hard. Many people will be harsher with their words than my nan.’
‘I know. I have seen how people react to the colour of my skin without looking below the surface to know the man.’
Sadie looked serious as she listened to his reply. ‘I would be prepared to live with that. However, what I can’t do is live with you without a wedding ring on my finger, and knowing there is another woman and child back in your home country. You have to be honest with me right now. If you aren’t, then I’ll have no choice but to move back in with Nan and beg her forgiveness. I’ll also have to stop this pregnancy, and that means making a visit to a woman round in Wheatley Terrace. It’s an open secret she helps women out of sticky situations. It goes against everything I’ve ever believed in, but you’d leave me with no choice . . .’
So intent was she in making Lemuel understanding her feelings that Sadie didn’t notice Effie and Freda coming into the room. She was startled by the younger woman’s outburst.
‘No! Give your baby away . . . leave it on the doorstep of the church . . . but please, don’t go to that house.’ Her voice broke and she slumped into one of the vacated seats at the table, with a concerned Freda fussing around her. Tony fetched a cup of water from the kitchen as Effie’s sobs overwhelmed her.
‘I’m sorry. I never meant to upset you – or anyone else, come to that,’ Sadie said, glancing at Lemuel.
‘You’re not to blame for me getting so upset. Would you mind if I explained?’ Effie said as she accepted a handkerchief from Freda and wiped her eyes.
‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to,’ Freda said, although she very much wanted to hear what Effie had to say.
‘I’d like to tell you all, as it’s played so heavily on my mind. Truly, I feel something should be done – but I have no idea where to turn.’
‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Tony said.
‘Take your time,’ Freda said gently to Effie as she sat beside her, ready to give her a hug if she broke down again.
‘You did ask me why I couldn’t live at my sister’s place in Belvedere. It’s because she has taken on our other sister’s children. The landlord is none too happy with so many in the few rooms as it is, but with the four extra little ones . . .’
‘What happened to your other sister?’ Sadie asked, although she’d part guessed what would be said.
‘Dora found herself in the family way again, and her husband told her to be rid of it. He didn’t want a fifth child – even said it wasn’t his. He told her where to go and gave her the money.’
Freda shuddered. It was a common problem. Even though there were places a woman could go for help, some women still used the back-street abortionists through ignorance and not wishing to ask for help from charities. ‘I take it the . . . the procedure didn’t go well?’
‘The first I knew was when I visited and found her in pain. There was blood everywhere. I called for an ambulance, but she died the next day. Her husband scarpered after telling me to hand the four boys over to Barnardo’s – I refused. A week later, we heard he’d died in a fight down by the docks. Good riddance to him,’ she spat out.
‘So why were you in Wheatley Terrace? I spotted you leaving the house,’ Freda explained.
‘I saw you there too, but it must have been another day – I was in hospital when Freda was there,’ Tony said from the kitchen.
Effie nodded. ‘I was so angry, I went to the house a few times, trying to speak to the woman who’d butchered my sister. The last time I was there I managed to get in when someone left the building. I gave her what for – and she laughed at me. She told me she was offering a service, and my sister had been unlucky. I’m afraid I acted in quite an unladylike way; I clobbered her one, right on the nose. Then I legged it in case someone came to her defence. I was petrified after that, in case she sent someone after me. Fortunately, she hasn’t, but I’d still like to see her serve time for what she did to our Dora.’
Freda was thoughtful as Tony carried in the tea tray, and they helped themselves to a cuppa. ‘How would you feel about speaking to a policeman?’
‘I’m not so sure about that. My family aren’t ones for talking to coppers. Do you think it would help?’
‘It could help others not make the same mistake,’ Freda said, looking towards Sadie, who kept her head down as she stirred her tea. ‘If it helps, you could talk to our friend Mike Jackson – he’s Bo
b’s son, from over the road. Mike could advise you. I suggest you don’t mention you thumped her one, though,’ she added with a small smile.
‘All right, I’ll speak to him. But I’m not going down the cop shop.’
‘I’ll have Mike pop in here for an informal chat. Has your other sister looked into finding somewhere else to live so she has room for all the kiddies?’
‘I don’t think so . . .’ Effie said.
‘You know Sarah’s dad is a local councillor? Belvedere may be a bit out of his area, but he’ll know how things work. Let me have a word with him.’
‘Blimey, I did all right moving in here,’ Effie joked before looking serious. ‘Thank you; I’m really grateful,’ she said, and looked at Sadie. ‘Perhaps you ought to ask Freda for some advice?’
‘I’m going to give it to the pair of them once we have some time to ourselves. Perhaps you two would like to take your tea to your bedrooms?’ Freda said, looking at Effie and Tony.
‘I’m ready for bed, so that’s a good idea,’ Tony said, wishing them all goodnight and heading to the front room. Effie did likewise, and went upstairs.
Freda topped up Sadie and Lemuel’s cups, and gave them both a smile. ‘You can tell me to mind my own business, but I’ll not stand by and see the pair of you mess up your lives. It’s patently obvious you were made for each other – and yet there are barriers forming between you.’
Lemuel took Sadie’s hand. ‘I don’t want to lose you, Sadie.’
‘But you said you have a wife and child back in Trinidad . . .’
Freda was horrified. ‘This is news! You’ve not mentioned that before, Lem. Why not tell us about your wife?’
‘My wife left me some years ago, and took our child with her to live with another man. It was before I came to England. I am ashamed that she would do such a thing, so I do not talk of it. My sister, Esther, has seen my daughter, and she passes my letters to her.’ He reached into his jacket for his wallet and pulled out a small photograph. ‘This is my girl. Her name is Elizabeth, after the royal Princess. She is fourteen and a young woman now.’
‘She is beautiful,’ Sadie said softly, gazing at the image. ‘But . . . your wife?’
‘My sister says she has married again.’
‘Well, then you must be divorced, and are free to marry,’ Freda said with a big sigh of relief. ‘Haven’t you ever checked with anyone?’
Lemuel gave them both a blank look. ‘I’ve never had a reason to check before.’
The two women burst out laughing.
Freda picked up her cup of tea. ‘Now we’ve got that out of the way, I’m going to leave you to sort out the rest for yourself.’
Lemuel again looked confused. ‘The rest?’
‘Do you not wish to make an honest woman of Sadie?’
‘I thought she knew that I want that very much.’ Lemuel smiled.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Lemuel! You have to show her, and make some plans. Just remember, I’d like an invitation to the wedding,’ Freda said, as she left the happy couple to themselves. She’d not climbed more than a few steps upstairs when there was a knock at the door. In all that had happened at home, she’d forgotten about young Georgina. She just hoped whoever was knocking wasn’t bring bad news.
‘Thank goodness you’re still up,’ Bob said, slightly out of breath.
‘Come in, Bob. Do you have news?’
‘I won’t, if you don’t mind. Ruby’s got a brew on the go and I want to get back. She’s still a bit weepy after what happened. I just wanted to let you know. I’ll pop up to Maisie’s and let her know as well.’
‘Let us know what?’ Freda said, more than a little impatiently.
‘She’s going to be all right,’ he said, reaching into his pocket for his handkerchief and blowing his nose loudly.
‘Thank goodness,’ Freda said, grinning from ear to ear. ‘That’s the best news ever.’
14
December 24th, 1947
‘What a miserable day for a wedding,’ Betty said as she gazed from the window of her first-floor office over Pier Road to the bustling crowds below. ‘At least it’s not as bad as last winter’s snow.’
Sarah shivered. ‘I’d not want that weather back in a million years. I suppose it is romantic to have a Christmas Eve wedding, but I’d not say it’s my favourite time of the year to get married.’
Betty coughed politely and tried not to laugh as she held out her left hand to show Sarah a glittering eternity ring that sat neatly above her wedding band and engagement ring.
‘Oh, my goodness – what a beauty,’ Sarah said, before colouring up as she realized what she had just said. ‘What I mean is, you chose your wedding day, whereas Sadie and Lemuel had no choice what with her . . .’
‘Expecting a happy event?’ Betty suggested as she watched Sarah gaze with longing at the ring. ‘Douglas surprised me with this last night. He had seen me admiring it when we went to Gamage’s to buy presents for the children for Christmas. The dear man must have gone back and purchased it while I was choosing new underwear for the girls.’
‘You’re a lucky woman,’ Sarah sighed wistfully.
‘I am,’ Betty said, aware that the Gilberts were still struggling, even though Alan was now working from the shop close to Billington and Carlisle’s. ‘Now, let me get my handbag and we can slip off and have a quick glass of sherry to celebrate Alan’s new business finally opening.’
‘And I feel Christmas Eve is a strange day to celebrate opening a business as well, especially with Lemuel working for him. The poor man had to go in and help this morning even though he’s getting married this afternoon,’ Sarah said, shrugging her shoulders. ‘But I dare not question Alan’s judgement, as he can still be a little snappy with me.’
‘Best not to. This shop could be the making of him, and if it gives work to Lemuel, then all the better. I do like the man, and he will make Sadie very happy.’
Sarah followed Betty as they left her office and headed to the entrance of the Woolworths store. ‘How do you feel about him being a coloured man, and Sadie being white?’
‘Lemuel is a good man, and people will see that. I don’t expect there to be a problem. Why, look how he has been accepted into our circle of friends, and we are no different to others in this town.’
Sarah shook her head at Betty’s innocence on this topic. Sadie had told her of the taunts thrown at her when walking out on Lemuel’s arm, and Sarah had seen for herself the signs in the windows of lodging houses declaring ‘no blacks’. Fortunately, Sadie’s love for this kind, gentle man outweighed any negativity.
Betty waved to one of the supervisors to indicate she was leaving the store before catching Sarah at the front door. The two women stopped to look at the Christmas display in the main window. Betty sighed. ‘I thought by now we’d be in a position to have vibrant displays that enticed shoppers to come in and buy our products. This damnable austerity wasn’t expected, and is becoming a bind. It makes one wonder who should be running our country.’
Sarah raised her eyebrows before chuckling. ‘Crikey, Betty, the way you speak you’ll be humming “The Red Flag” next. I do agree we should think more about brightening our window display. For some reason, I imagined having a window dresser would mean more attractive displays. Shall we have a word with her, do you think?’
‘Yes, we should. I’ve been a little remiss in leaving the woman to get on with things. Life seems so busy right now, and I never seem to be able to shake off this tiredness. I’m fine – it’s nothing to worry about,’ she said quickly, noticing Sarah’s concerned look. ‘We should think about an Easter display and discuss it with the window dresser. I do know we did better when left to our own devices. Why, Freda and her Brownies did a really impressive display during the war, coming up with their knitted chickens and papier-mâché eggs for Easter,’ she said as they crossed Pier Road and headed towards the High Street. This was where Alan Gilbert’s new shop premises were to be found, alongside Bil
lington and Carlisle and Maisie’s Modes.
‘If you’re sure you’re all right?’ Sarah said, ignoring Betty’s bright reply about the Easter window display.
Betty quickly changed the subject. ‘It is satisfying to know our husbands will be working side by side in the High Street.’ She smiled. She didn’t add that her husband and David had begged Alan to take on the empty shop and yard for a peppercorn rent, in order for it not to run into disrepair. Alan had fallen hook, line and sinker for his friends’ words and had set to with a vigour that they’d not seen in him for many months, painting the shop and clearing weeds from the yard behind the property.
Sarah nodded her head in agreement. Deep down, she felt there was still something keeping Alan from her. They had little to say to one another at home. It felt as though he was in another world, far away from her, when he sat staring into space. He ignored the children too, and refused to join in with family pursuits. Perhaps the resurrection of his workshop would be the new start they needed, both in business and their life together.
‘This is very jolly,’ Ruby said, as she accepted another glass of sherry from George. ‘I must make this my last or I’ll be falling flat on my face in church, and that wouldn’t do.’
George tried not to smile, knowing his mother was on her third sweet sherry and, already slightly unsteady on her feet, she had taken the only seat available in Alan’s shop front. ‘Well, if you can’t enjoy yourself celebrating a wedding as well as a new family business, when can you? Bob can hold you upright if you feel out of sorts in the church. Here comes Sarah, so I’ll leave you in her capable hands. I need to see Alan about something out in the yard,’ he said, kissing Betty’s cheek before crushing his daughter in a bear hug.
‘Dad,’ she squealed. ‘I’m not a child any more.’
‘You’ll always be my little girl,’ he told her, giving Betty a wink, which embarrassed Sarah even more.
‘I’m sorry that Maureen had to work,’ Betty said to George. ‘If you like, I will slip back and relieve her in the staff kitchen for a little while so she can come and look around.’
Wedding Bells for Woolworths Page 24