Wedding Bells for Woolworths

by Elaine Everest

  The women laughed, and Freda did her best to concentrate on what was happening around her. Today had changed everything as far as she was concerned. Perhaps for him it had only been a spur-of-the-moment kiss, but how would it be when they returned home to Erith? Living in the same house could be uncomfortable if it weren’t for her two other lodgers, Effie and Dulcie, who worked at Woolworths too and had taken Sadie’s room when she married Lemuel and moved back to her nan’s house. She wasn’t sure she could trust herself. ‘Goodness, what would Ruby and Vera make of that?’ she thought to herself as she put Tony’s clothing through the mangle. She draped the wet clothes over a hanging rack before using the pulley to raise it to the ceiling of the kitchen to dry. The rain had started to fall again, but if tomorrow was dry she could hang the washing outside on the line before she left to watch the race.

  Bidding the other women goodnight, she went upstairs for an early night, intent on being ready for what lay ahead on race day. Try as she might, she tossed and turned before falling asleep as the dawn chorus started and then dreaming of Tony’s kiss.

  Waking late, she decided to forgo breakfast and hurry to where Tony had told her would be a good place to view the race. She climbed up a grassy bank that bordered a turn in the road and settled down on a blanket to wait, tucking into a sandwich the landlady had thrust into her hand, wrapped in greaseproof paper, as she dashed from the house. There were many people milling around and nearby was a large van manned by people from the BBC, who seemed to be covering the race. Out of interest, and knowing Bob and Ruby Jackson would be intrigued to know she’d seen what happened when news was sent to their wireless set, she wandered over to take a closer look.

  A man holding a microphone with a long lead trailing from inside the vehicle spotted her and stepped forward. ‘Good morning, madam. Would you care to tell our listeners which country you are supporting in this race?’

  Freda took a step back in fear as the microphone was held close to her face. The man nodded, encouraging her to speak.

  ‘Er, I’m here to cheer on the Great Britain team. I have a friend in the race, Tony Forsythe. And my name is Freda Smith, from Erith in Kent,’ she added proudly, wondering if Ruby and Bob were listening. Wouldn’t they be surprised!

  ‘Kent? That’s a long way to cycle,’ the chap laughed as he noticed her bicycle lying on the grass nearby.

  ‘Oh no, we are staying here in Windsor until tomorrow,’ she said with a smile.

  ‘Well, good luck to Tony Forsythe and his young lady who are staying here in Windsor. If you’d been at the start, you’d have seen Prince Philip start the race with a pistol,’ he laughed as he took the microphone away.

  Freda was mortified. Why, anyone who was listening to this BBC programme would think she was . . . she was sharing a bed with Tony. She had to correct the man before her friends thought the worse of her. She hurried forward, trying to catch his attention as he interviewed a man wearing an official’s badge. In the distance she heard the roar of a crowd, and with others on the grass bank she turned to watch as the first in the race appeared at the corner. Where was Tony?

  ‘Here comes the Italian in the lead by twenty yards, followed by the French . . . and is that a British shirt I see . . .?’

  Freda pushed forward as she heard the announcer’s excited words. Surely that wasn’t Tony? He’d told her it was best not to be too far forward in the early part of the race. But perhaps he was doing better than he thought he would at this stage. Oh, how she wished she’d listened properly when he spoke about the race with her friends’ husbands.

  As she watched, squinting to see if Tony was there, she noticed two cyclists crash into each other and quickly scramble to their feet before squaring up to each other. Other cyclists steered round them, and a race official’s car pulled up to see to the problem. Trying to calm the situation, one official guided the men towards the side of the road while another tried to clear the debris, causing approaching racers to swerve. Freda gasped as cyclist after cyclist crashed into each other – amongst them she spotted Tony as he flew over the handlebars of his best bike. He landed on top of one of the Swiss cyclists. With thoughts only of his safety, Freda fled down the grassy bank and through the crowd that now lined the route.

  ‘Tony,’ she shrieked as she got within shouting distance and could see someone helping him to his feet.

  ‘Freda?’ Tony looked around until he saw her pushing through the melee of officials and injured cyclists.

  ‘Oh Tony, I thought you’d been hurt,’ she sobbed as she threw herself into his arms.

  He held her tight, kissing away her tears, oblivious to the interested glances thrown in their direction.

  ‘Is that it? After all your hard work and preparation,’ she sobbed. ‘Can’t you get back on your bike and finish the race?’ She looked at the mangled heap of frames, spokes and wheels and tried to work out which part of it was Tony’s beloved bicycle.

  ‘It doesn’t matter, there’s always next time,’ Tony smiled as he slung his arm around her shoulders and slowly hobbled back to the grassy verge, where they were met by the gentleman from the BBC.

  ‘Sir, how do you feel knowing you’re out of the race and there isn’t another Olympic Games for four more years?’

  Tony roared with laughter, causing Freda to cuff away her tears and give him a questioning look. ‘I feel better than I have in years.’

  ‘But, sir, you were down to finish in the last ten. You could have been a contender for a medal . . .’ the man said, not understanding the grin on Tony’s face.

  ‘Did you bump your head?’ Freda asked, trying to check him over.

  ‘No, just this damned leg’s giving me trouble again,’ he said, kissing the tip of her nose.

  ‘But Tony . . .’

  Tony hushed her with a kiss, ignoring the questions from the commentator and the microphone so close to their faces. ‘Freda Smith, I’d get down on one knee if I thought I could get up again. You will have to accept my proposal standing up.’

  ‘Tony . . .?’

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, things are hotting up here at the Olympic Games in Windsor Home Park. Forget the racing – we have a proposal of marriage in the offing . . .’ the excited presenter shouted down the microphone before poking it back in Tony’s face.

  Tony never noticed as he stood facing Freda. ‘I thank the day you ran me down in Pier Road. You are obstinate, bossy and downright irritating at times, but I love you, Freda Smith, and I want you to be my wife as soon as possible. Will you marry me?’

  This time the tears in Freda’s eyes were tears of happiness. ‘Oh yes, please, Tony. Can we marry today?’ she laughed.

  ‘I think all your friends would have something to say about that,’ he grinned back, holding out his hand. ‘Come on – let’s get back home and tell everyone, shall we?’

  Freda took his hand and they walked away as the BBC presenter stood watching them, lost for words.

  16

  ‘Where is everyone?’ Freda asked as she banged hard on the front door of number thirteen. ‘It’s only eight o’clock, so Ruby can’t be in bed yet. I do hope there’s nothing wrong.’

  ‘Perhaps they’ve gone out somewhere,’ Tony said as he peered through the bay window. ‘I can’t see anything.’

  ‘You wouldn’t. The curtains are drawn, which in itself is strange on a summer evening . . . Oh, Tony. Perhaps someone has died?’ She gasped, thinking of times when neighbours had passed away and everyone in the street had closed their curtains as a mark of respect on the day of the funeral. Had Ruby’s aches and pains been something serious?

  ‘Someone would have got word to us, or Vera would have been down here by now,’ Tony said, putting his arm round her shoulder.

  Freda liked the feeling, and leant into him a little more. ‘We may as well go home, then. I so wanted them to hear our news! It will just have to wait.’

  The couple crossed the road to Freda’s house and let themselves in, heading straight
to the kitchen.

  ‘Oh hello, you two. How did the race go?’ Effie asked as she reached for two cups and saucers from the cupboard and placed them on a tray next to her own. ‘I’ve not heard anything about the Olympics. I’ve been at my sister’s, as there is news about that woman from Wheatley Terrace. Sergeant Jackson let me know that she’s been arrested for performing illegal abortions.’

  ‘Oh, that’s good news. At least no other woman will suffer at her hands; although for some it is too late,’ Freda added, thinking of Effie’s sister.

  ‘Yes, but someone will pay for it,’ Effie said, trying valiantly to keep a smile on her face. ‘I was just making my tea. We have fresh eggs and vegetables courtesy of Ruby and Bob.’

  Tony agreed with what Effie had said. ‘And it sounds as though Ruby is fine, if she delivered these,’ he said, looking at the bowl of eggs on the table.

  ‘Why wouldn’t she be?’

  ‘We stopped off to see her and Bob and there was no one home,’ Freda explained, not wanting to say that Tony had asked her to marry him until she had told her closer friends.

  ‘That’s because they are all up at Vera Munro’s house. There’s some kind of party going on.’

  Freda and Tony looked at each other in surprise. ‘Vera’s having a party?’ Freda asked incredulously.

  ‘I think it’s Sadie and Lemuel’s party. I don’t know any more than that. They did invite me, but I said I was going to my sister’s after work. Why don’t you walk up there? I’ll not go now, as I was planning on having an early night after my bath,’ she said, glancing to where she’d draped her towel and washbag over the back of a chair.

  ‘Then we will leave you to it,’ Freda said, thinking it was time she did something about having a proper bathroom in the house, just as Ruby and Bob had done, by bricking up the doors of the coal house and outside toilet to create a small bathroom off the kitchen. The building work would be messy, but she might just be able to arrange it if the price wasn’t too much. It was then she realized the decision would no longer be hers alone. When she married Tony, he might well take on such tasks. She liked that thought. ‘Come on, Tony, we can eat later,’ she said, taking his hand and pulling him from the room. If Effie noticed how close the pair now were, she didn’t say anything.

  ‘Crikey, whatever is all that noise?’ Freda asked as they reached the gate to Vera’s house, which was further up Alexandra Road halfway between Maisie’s double-fronted home and Ruby’s house at number thirteen. ‘I know Vera has had a piano in her front room all the years I’ve known her, but I’ve never known it be played. It’s usually shrouded in its green chenille cover with photographs on top.’

  ‘That song doesn’t seem to be the kind Vera would join in with, either,’ Tony said as he opened the gate and ushered Freda towards the front door. It swung open as she reached for the door knocker.

  ‘Hello, Lemuel, what’s all this about?’ she asked as she looked up to the tall, handsome, dark-skinned man who was beaming down at her.

  He roared with laughter, and held out his hand in greeting. ‘Ma’am, you pay me the greatest compliment a man can have. I’m not Lemuel, I am his younger brother, James.’

  Freda froze; the likeness was amazing. As she stood dumbfounded, with one foot on the doorstep, she could see that James was slightly fuller in the face and, if it was possible, a good couple of inches taller. Giving herself a shake, she held out her hand and introduced herself and Tony, adding, ‘I’ve never seen such a close likeness between siblings.’

  ‘Wait until you see my sister,’ he guffawed.

  Freda liked this man immediately. But how had it been kept a secret that Lemuel’s brother was to visit? Vera’s inability to keep secrets was well known.

  The couple were ushered through to the living room, where Sadie and Lemuel greeted them with surprise. ‘I thought you weren’t due back for another couple of days?’ Sadie said, looking a picture with her freshly styled hair and wearing a bright yellow cotton summer frock. ‘I’m so pleased you are able to join us. Let me introduce you to my mother-in-law, Cynthia, and my sister-in-law, Esther,’ she said, leading Freda to a row of chairs where a rotund lady was chatting to Ruby and Vera. ‘This is Freda, who we’ve been telling you about. She lives down the road opposite Ruby’s house. It’s her lodger who took part in the Olympic Games,’ she said as Freda made her hellos, shook the hands of the two women and squeezed onto a chair next to Ruby.

  ‘This is a big surprise,’ Freda said. ‘We’ve heard so much from Lemuel about his family, and to see you all sitting here is just wonderful.’ One of Esther’s children toddled up to her and climbed onto her lap.

  ‘It was a big surprise for Lemuel,’ Cynthia said. ‘We have been corresponding with our new daughter-in-law, and her grandmother graciously invited us to visit. Esther’s husband had to stay to look after their business, but as soon as James knew how much I wanted to come to England, he sold his car and his own business and paid for our trip. It is a dream come true,’ she smiled benignly. ‘I now have just one wish left, then I can die a happy woman.’

  ‘My goodness, that sounds a bit drastic,’ Ruby said. ‘I hope it is something worth popping your clogs for?’

  Sadie explained what ‘popping your clogs’ meant, and Cynthia burst into laughter. ‘Oh my, I am going to like living here in England,’ she said, much to Vera’s consternation.

  ‘I’m not sure we can put you up,’ she said, looking horrified. ‘We’ve only got the one spare room, and that’s for young Arthur and Jacob Donald.’

  ‘Donald? Do you meant Sadie and Lemuel have named their kiddie after your Don? That’s a nice thing to do,’ Ruby nodded approvingly.

  ‘Jacob Donald, after both the grandparents,’ Cynthia added, mopping her eyes with a handkerchief. ‘My Jacob would have been so proud to think how well our children have done. His dream has been fulfilled, even though he is no longer here to see it. That just leaves my dream.’

  Sadie knelt down in front of Cynthia and took her hand. ‘Why don’t you tell everyone your dream? Then perhaps we can help.’

  Cynthia blew her nose and smiled. ‘I’d like to meet one of the Royal Family. It doesn’t have to be our King. I just need to know that they are real.’

  ‘Of course they are real,’ Vera scoffed. ‘What makes you think they aren’t?’

  ‘When I was very young, I was told the royals were make-believe people. Just like the stories in my books were made up. There is part of me that still wants proof. Perhaps now I’m here in England, I should visit London and knock on their door?’

  ‘I doubt they’d let you in, so you may as well save your train fare,’ Vera sniffed.

  Lemuel, who had been close by listening to his mother, clapped his hands together. ‘I can show you they are real,’ he said, going to the sideboard and pulling out a large envelope. ‘I had meant to send these to you.’ he explained, pulling out pages of newspaper reports of the wedding of Princess Elizabeth. ‘Look, we were there watching the wedding.’ He spread out one of the larger pages of a newspaper. ‘See that corner . . . we all stood there as the King and Queen went past in a carriage after the wedding.’

  Sarah appeared from the kitchen and peered over his shoulder as he knelt down, holding out the pages. ‘That’s right, and we slept on that pavement overnight so that we didn’t miss seeing Princess Elizabeth travel to the church with her father. It was magical,’ she said to Cynthia. ‘I’ll remember that day all my life.’

  ‘Mother, we should have visited last year – then we could have gone to London to watch,’ Esther scolded.

  ‘But the time was not right,’ Cynthia nodded wisely. ‘The time was not right for us. But to think I now have a grandson whose parents have seen the King and Queen! If only they had spoken to you.’

  Freda couldn’t contain herself any longer. ‘That was the day that Lemuel and Sadie truly fell in love. I saw it happen,’ she explained. ‘But if you want to meet someone who has touched a royal hand, he is h
ere in this room. Tony,’ she called, and Tony looked up from where he’d been chatting with David Carlisle. ‘This is my intended. He met Prince Philip only yesterday, and shook him by the hand.’

  Tony shook hands with Cynthia, who then wouldn’t let go of his hand and stroked it gently. He explained about Prince Philip meeting the cyclists in the Olympic event before using a pistol to start the race. He finished by explaining that he had fallen off his bike in the crash.

  Maisie, who was more interested in what she’d heard Freda say, stopped laying out food and came to her side. ‘What did you just say about Tony, Freda?’

  Freda grinned. ‘I said Tony met Prince Philip . . .’

  ‘Not that bit, you idiot – the part where you said, “this is my intended”. I did hear that right, didn’t I?’ she shrieked.

  Freda suddenly felt shy as all eyes turned towards her, and she looked to Tony for support.

  ‘Yes, I asked Freda to marry me just after I fell off my bike. The fact she said yes more than made up for crashing out of the Olympics,’ Tony said, slipping an arm round Freda’s shoulders. ‘Hopefully the wedding will be soon, as there’s nothing to wait for.’

  Amongst the cheers and hugs, Ruby pulled Freda to one side to give her a cuddle. ‘I’m as pleased as if you were my own granddaughter,’ she said. ‘I hope your brother Lenny will be here to give you away?’

  Freda slapped a hand to her mouth. ‘I hadn’t given that a thought. I’ll have to write to Sally and find out when he is home. With him being my only living blood relative – apart from his and Sally’s two kiddies, that is – I must have him by my side. What a fool I am for not thinking things out properly,’ she said. ‘I hope Tony will understand.’

  ‘If he doesn’t, then he’s not the man for you. Not that I think that for one moment,’ Ruby said. ‘Why don’t you come over for your dinner tomorrow, and you can use my telephone to speak to Sally? That would be so much better than writing a letter. Then you can visit so they can meet Tony. Even if Lenny is away at sea, Tony can still get to know Sally and the children.’