by Diane Allen
‘Are you all right, my dear? It’s been a terrible time for you, more so than for any of us – you’ve been in the thick of it.’ She reached across and patted Alice’s knee.
‘Yes, I’m fine, thank you, Mrs Dowbiggin. Just wondering what the next year will bring. Surely it can’t be as bad as the last two.’
‘Well, let’s hope not, my dear. Do you think Baby Alice will have behaved for her new nursemaid? It was good of Mr Bramble to engage one so fast on behalf of Master Gerald. At least it gives you your life back, my dear. What will you do with yourself now?’ Hilda Dowbiggin enquired, her curiosity getting the better of her as they pulled up at the steps of the manor. Jack opened the trap door and gave Mrs Dowbiggin his hand.
‘I tell you what she’s going to do, Mrs Dowbiggin – she’s going to wed me, that’s what she’s going to do.’ Jack looked up at Alice as the stout housekeeper sat gaping at him. ‘I’ve waited long enough for an answer, Alice. Now marry me, and come and live back at your old home, back where you belong.’ He stood his ground, waiting for Alice’s answer, taken aback by his own forthright manner.
Alice looked at him. Should she? He offered stability; he was worth money; she knew all about him . . . There was just one thing wrong: he wasn’t the dashing Gerald! She looked at the two elderly servants standing on the steps like a pair of statues, waiting for her answer. She blushed and fiddled with her bag, not knowing what to say.
‘Well, what’s your answer?’ Mrs Dowbiggin prompted her.
Alice looked at the three faces beaming at her. ‘Yes! My answer is yes, I’ll marry you, Jack Alderson, and we’ll make Dale End our home.’ She could feel a lump in her throat and wanted to burst into tears. She’d no option but to marry him: it was security and he was a good man.
‘You will? You’ve said yes! I can’t believe it! I’ll turn the trap round and set a date with the vicar straight away.’ Jack was over the moon with delight.
‘You will not, Jack Alderson – we’ve just come away from a funeral; show some respect,’ Alice chastised her husband-to-be. ‘We’ll both go and see him after Christmas when we have finished mourning and have shown respect to the ones we have lost.’
Jack held her tightly around the waist and kissed her on the cheek, nearly making Mrs Dowbiggin faint with the sight of him being so forward. ‘We’ll be happy, my love. I’m sure we’ll be happy.’
‘Aye, well, that’s enough of that. Remember we’ve just come back from a funeral and there’s a baby in there without a mother. Keep the celebrations quiet for now.’ Alice climbed the steps and watched Jack as he led the horses away. She sighed. She’d said it now: she was going to have to marry him. For better or for worse, she was getting married.
27
‘Come on, Miss Alice, you’re going to have to get a move on – it’s ten o’clock already. Another two hours and you’ll be walking down the aisle. Just look at the garden; you can tell it’s the first day of spring. I’ve never seen as many daffodils. The lawn is covered with them.’
Mrs Dowbiggin bustled around as Alice gazed out across the grounds of the manor. It would be the last time she looked out of the huge bay windows and admired the well-kept grounds. After today she would be back to low ceilings and the small windows of Dale End, with no beautiful garden or wallpapered walls. Ah, well, she should have known that none of this could ever be hers. She ran her fingers over the back of the leather Chesterfield suite and made her way up to her room to change into her wedding dress. It was all laid out for her on the bed, simple but beautiful, with small satin buttons that fastened the high neckline round her slim neck and circled her dainty wrists, every inch of her body being flattered by the elegant design. The dressmaker had said she was a dream to make a dress for because of her slight figure. She’d stood while pins had been stuck into her and tucks had been made at strategic points until the beautiful dress had been finished and everyone had stepped back and admired the craftsmanship that had gone into it and how beautiful she looked.
To Alice, it felt more like dressing in slave chains. She didn’t want to go back to farming, getting up first thing in the morning to milk cows, and having to eke out a meagre existence on a bleak fellside. She’d enjoyed the few months she had lived at the manor. Baby Alice had settled with her nursemaid, leaving Alice with time on her hands – perhaps not a good thing, as her mind had been doing overtime. The devil making work for idle hands, as her father once said when she’d done something wrong instead of helping him.
She pulled her silk stocking up her leg and fastened her suspenders, slipped her silk cami down over her body and studied herself in the mirror of the wardrobe. She looked tired; after all, she hadn’t slept for a night or two, wondering if she dared go through with the wedding, wondering whether to pack a bag and walk over to the next dale, where nobody knew her. But that wasn’t her style. She’d never walked away from anything, and she couldn’t break Jack’s heart again. He was a good friend; happen in time she’d grow to love him. She slipped the wedding dress over her head and did up all the buttons, then sat on the edge of the bed to put on her shoes.
There, she was dressed. She just needed the hat from downstairs and the bunch of primroses and violets that Jack had picked for her. She flicked her long hair over her shoulder and walked down the sweeping staircase. She remembered the first time she had walked down those stairs, conscious of the stares of all the Frankland ancestors in their picture frames, watching the young country lass with attitude, saying what she thought, regardless of her class. She’d learned a lot since then.
‘Miss Alice, you look beautiful, absolutely beautiful! We are so proud of you.’ Mrs Dowbiggin brushed tears away as she watched Alice glide across the hallway. ‘Say something, you big useless lump.’ She dug Faulks in the ribs as he stood next to her.
‘You do indeed, my dear. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful bride.’ He smiled at Alice and then scowled at Mrs Dowbiggin. ‘I believe your carriage awaits outside, Miss Alice. There is a stable boy with a decorated trap. I understand your husband-to-be has sent it for you.’
Alice couldn’t resist opening the front door for a quick peek at her transport before putting her hat on. Standing in the courtyard was Jack’s trap, decorated with white blossom from the hedges, and his team of horses had their manes plaited with blossom threaded between the braids. It must have taken him ages.
‘Good morning, Miss Alice. Mr Jack says he hopes that you like the trap and he’s waiting for you at the church.’ The young stable boy smiled and pulled at the horses’ harnesses as they reared their heads.
Alice blushed and closed the door, checking herself in the hall mirror and arranging her hat so that the white veil from around the large brim fell about her face.
‘Here’s your flowers, love. I’ve put a bit of ribbon round them and tried to make them look posh.’ Mrs Dowbiggin passed her the posy and squeezed her hand, and then Faulks opened the door for her to mount the trap.
‘I’ll miss you both, you know that.’ Alice hugged the stout figure of Mrs Dowbiggin and kissed Faulks on the cheek. ‘You’ve both been good to me.’ Her eyes were filled with tears.
‘Get away, go on, be gone with you – your man’s waiting. You know where we’re at. You know you can always come and see Baby Alice at any time. Now go on, get gone, before I start crying.’ Mrs Dowbiggin shooed her out of the hallway and down the steps.
It was too late to turn back. Alice could hear the church bells ringing out in the distance. It was her wedding day and Jack was waiting.
Alice stepped out of the trap onto the cobbled street of Dent. A few locals were gathered around the church gate to wish the new couple well and they watched as she nervously walked up the path. Her stomach was churning and her heart was still asking her head why she was going through with the marriage. She reached the porch entrance and swallowed, keeping her stomach in check, then stepped up to the doors of the church. Jack’s father took her arm as soon as she entered. He was
a man of few words and just smiled as he offered her his arm. They walked up the aisle to the traditional wedding march until she was at Jack’s side. He looked nervous, scrubbed to within an inch of his life, with shiny cheeks and pink blossom in his buttonhole that matched them. He smiled and shuffled his feet, looking at his beautiful bride.
The vicar smiled at Alice, his long, thin body towering in front of them in his white surplice.
‘Please be seated.’ The few people present duly sat, and then he cleared his throat and continued with the service.
Alice glanced nervously at Jack as the congregation rose to sing the first hymn. The notes from the ancient church organ were not quite in tune with the congregation as both organ and vicar sang in a higher key.
It was at the end of the last verse of the hymn that everyone turned their heads when they heard the church door open. Slowly a figure entered, gradually emerging from the shadow of the clock tower and into the spring light that was streaming through the windows. Thin and unsteady on his crutches, Gerald Frankland walked up the aisle, his face scarred and drawn. He stopped three pews away from the couple, just standing in the aisle, before sitting awkwardly down.
Alice couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Forgetting where she was, she dropped her wedding posy and rushed to his side, dropping down on her knees, speechless, with tears in her eyes. Jack just looked on, not knowing what to do. The vicar tactfully gave a small cough, urging Alice to rejoin her husband-to-be. She rose to her feet, tears streaming down her face. Gerald was alive! The man she secretly loved and adored was back, and there she was, getting married to a farmer’s boy.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, I want to remind you that we are gathered here today to join together John Richard Alderson and Alice Bentham in holy matrimony.’ The vicar looked down into his prayer book and coughed.
‘Just hold on, Vicar.’ Jack looked at Alice, her eyes red with tears. Then he lifted her veil and kissed her.
‘This is highly unusual! You can do this after the marriage, Jack.’ The vicar looked displeased.
Jack blushed, uncomfortable. ‘There’s not going to be a wedding. I’m not going to be second best and marry a lass that doesn’t love me. I don’t think she ever has. She’s never looked at me the way she looks at Lord Frankland there. And I don’t blame you, lass. I’m just an ordinary fellow that does his best, but you will always want more than I can give you and he’s got everything I haven’t got.’
Alice sank into a heap, still clutching her posy, and wept. He was right: she didn’t love him. She was marrying him for security, but now Gerald was back and everything had changed.
Jack reached for his cap and put it on. Placing his hand on Alice’s head, he whispered, ‘Don’t cry, lass, you’ll be all right. As for me, I’ll just stick to my horses in the future.’
He walked down the church aisle past Gerald and his family and out into the spring sunshine. The congregation listened to the sound of his horses and trap driving off across the cobbles, whispering and feeling uncomfortable at the unfolding event.
‘I’m sorry, ladies and gentlemen, I’m afraid there will be no wedding here today.’ The vicar walked down the steps. ‘It seems that I nearly undertook a most unwanted service by one of the party.’ He ushered the congregation out of his church, leaving Gerald and Alice alone.
Gerald gripped the pew and pushed himself up onto his feet again, making his way towards Alice.
‘I’m sorry, Alice, I’ve ruined your wedding day. I shouldn’t have come, but I had to see you. Every day when I was fighting for my life in that awful Red Cross hospital I thought of you – your blonde hair, those blue eyes, that mischievous smile and the way you can make me lose my head, like drinking the most exotic wine. When I went home to the manor and Mrs Dowbiggin told me you were here, getting married, I knew that I had to make speed and stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life.’
Alice sniffed and wiped her eyes, then looked at Gerald’s face and smiled.
‘That’s better! Where’s my feisty Dales lass?’ Gerald made fun of her Yorkshire roots. ‘Don’t you know how much I love you? It’s taken a bloody war to make me realize it and to know that class is nothing.’ He hobbled forward on his crutches, then lifted her chin and kissed her on the lips. ‘Come on, Miss Bentham, let’s go home. I know at least three bodies who will be pleased to have you back where you belong, and Mrs Dowbiggin is going to be so busy with a proper wedding to plan, she isn’t going to have time to gossip with Faulks.’
‘Do you really feel the same way as I do, Gerald?’ Alice lowered her tear-filled blue eyes, not daring to look him fully in the face. She felt sick with happiness and relief. She had almost settled for second best, until Gerald had rescued her. Poor Jack – she hoped he’d understand.
‘If you’d been through what I have been through, you’d know just what you wanted. I know I love you with my every breath. Now, where’s that reprobate brother of yours and my sister? I didn’t see them as I entered the church.’
‘Didn’t Mrs Dowbiggin tell you?’
‘Tell me what? I didn’t stop. I had to get here and see you. What is there to tell? Is there another baby on the way?’
‘Oh, Gerald, if only there was, if only it was such good news. I’m afraid both Will and Nancy are dead.’
‘Dead? No, they can’t be; they were both safe here in Dentdale. It was me who went to war to give them life and hope.’
Alice held his hand while she sat with him on the church pew and told the sorry tale of the two deaths. Then they walked out into the spring sunshine and she showed him Nancy’s grave. Gerald bent down, his army cap in hand, and prayed for his lost sister. The newly sprung yellow cowslips nodded on the earthy grave in agreement with his prayers as a low cloud passed over the spring sun in keeping with the mood in the little village churchyard.
28
‘Well, I nearly dropped down dead when I saw Master Gerald on the step. I hadn’t time to tell him anything – he turned round as fast as he appeared soon as I said everyone was at Miss Alice’s wedding. It wasn’t half good to see him. Looks frail, mind you, but we’ll soon build him up now he’s home.’ Mrs Dowbiggin kneaded the loaf of bread that was going to be wanted now that Gerald Frankland had returned. ‘That poor horse of his got the biggest whip across its backside I’ve ever seen. I suppose he wanted to see Alice getting married. It’d be a change after dreary army life.’
‘I’m just glad he’s back – a fellow man in a house full of women. We can stand together against you females.’ Faulks folded his newspaper.
‘You, classing yourself in the same bracket as Master Gerald? He’s twice the man you are, you old goat.’ Mrs Dowbiggin patted her hands against her apron, causing a dusting of flour to cover the kitchen floor, before putting the loaf of bread to rise next to the open fire.
‘You’d be lost without me, you know you would, you old fool.’ Faulks winked at the blushing Mrs Dowbiggin, then buried himself in his newspaper.
‘Happen I would. We go together like a pair of well-worn shoes. Life wouldn’t be the same without you.’ She busied herself and cleaned the pine table, not looking at the smiling Faulks. They’d been in service together for years and she was content in his company.
‘Put the kettle on, Mrs D – we are home,’ Gerald Frankland yelled across the hall after slamming the front door. ‘We’ll be in my study.’
‘We? Who’s we?’ Mrs Dowbiggin looked at Faulks in puzzlement. ‘Well, go and see who’s with him. You need to welcome him back; that’ll give you an excuse to see who’s there.’
Faulks folded his paper, rearranged his waistcoat and solemnly made his way to the study. He coughed before knocking on the door and entering.
‘Come in, Faulks. How have you been, old man? There was many a day when I could have done with your service, when my boots needed cleaning and my buttons shining.’ Gerald Frankland held his hand out to be shaken by his trusted old butler.
‘It’s good to see
you, sir. May I say it’s a pleasure to see your smiling face. It seems a lifetime ago that you left us for the front. Was it terrible out there, sir? From what I understand, we’ve suffered a shocking loss of young life.’
‘I prefer not to talk about it, Faulks. I’m trying hard to forget the whole terrible episode.’
‘Of course, sir. I understand.’ Faulks coughed politely. ‘Did sir say he wanted tea? One cup, is it, sir?’ Faulks had spotted the delicate white lace of a woman’s dress from behind the winged chair that was facing out of the study window.
‘No, Faulks – allow me to introduce my wife-to-be. I’ll be needing two cups of tea and, I suspect, smelling salts for Mrs Dowbiggin. Alice, take my hand, my darling. Rescued in the nick of time, Faulks: the woman who kept me alive. All those months in those dreaded trenches and hospital, this face of an angel kept smiling at me and I knew I had to survive to marry her.’
Alice stood up, bashfully holding Gerald’s hand, not quite knowing what to say to the gobsmacked Faulks.
‘But Miss Alice was marrying Jack. I don’t understand.’
‘She was, Faulks, but I saved her and now we are to marry. Go! Go and tell Mrs Dowbiggin – no doubt she will have something to say. And ask the nursemaid to bring me my niece. I want to see who she takes after. If it’s her delightful aunt, then I’m doubly blessed.’
Alice smiled at Faulks as he walked out of the study door. Gerald grabbed her by her waist and held her tightly in his arms. ‘I see nothing’s changed here: the servants still need to be the first ones to know the news.’ He smiled and kissed her hard on the lips. ‘That tastes good. You don’t know the times I’ve dreamed of that when I was lying in that dreadful hospital bed.’