by June Francis
‘I’d say so, but I’ll tell you later,’ Tim said.
Marty said, ‘Have you got everything you need?’
‘I should be asking you that. You have got the rings?’
‘Of course!’ Marty patted his pocket. ‘How times have changed. Once there was only one ring to worry about because men didn’t wear wedding rings.’
‘I think it’s a change for the better,’ murmured Tim, sliding into the back seat next to his brother. ‘I wish Dad was here to see me getting married.’
Marty stared at him. ‘You surprise me. You never had time for Dad.’
‘That was because he never had time for me. He always treated me like I was a disappointment to him, a failure. I’d have liked him to see me make good. He’d approve of Lucia.’
‘Yes, and Irene,’ said Marty. ‘Say that about Dad to Mam. It’ll give her pleasure.’
Their mother and sister Lil and her husband were going straight to the church, as it was close to where they lived, and so were Peggy and Pete.
Meanwhile, Lucia was being fussed over by Theresa and Nellie, and tears were near because they were wishing that members of the family who were absent could have been there. They thought about Lottie and David, as well as that branch of the family the other side of the Atlantic. A telegram had arrived from Babs and the children, which would be read out later by the best man.
Wiping away her tears, Lucia said, ‘I suppose most weddings are a mixture of tears and smiles. I am happy, though.’
‘Good for you,’ said Michelangelo, offering Lucia his arm. ‘Always look for the silver lining, and the pair of you will win through.’
Nellie nodded. ‘Time me and the kids were going. The bridesmaids next. Then you two don’t be late.’
‘We won’t,’ said her husband.
Less than an hour later, Lucia and Michelangelo stood at the back of the church. Francis signalled to the organist, who launched into Purcell’s ‘Trumpet Tune in D’, celebrating the entrance of the bride, with gusto. Lucia felt perfectly calm as she processed down the aisle, her hand resting lightly on her uncle’s sleeve. She scarcely noticed those in the pews either side as her attention was on her future husband.
As she drew alongside Tim, he winked at her. She felt her smile widen and whispered, ‘I love you.’
‘I love you, too,’ he mouthed. ‘You look lovely.’
‘So do you,’ she responded.
‘Dearly beloved …’ began Francis.
Immediately he had their attention, and the wedding service proceeded. When he pronounced them husband and wife, a big cheer went up. Tim did not wait to be told he could kiss the bride, but took his wife in his arms and kissed her tenderly. Once on the way to Nellie’s house, he told her about writing his crime novel, and the encouragement he had received from his publisher.
‘What a clever husband I have,’ said Lucia, kissing him.
‘And what a lovely, kind, encouraging wife I have,’ Tim responded. ‘I just wish my father could have experienced this day with us.’
‘I felt like my father was in church, and Mam too, smiling down on us,’ said Lucia. ‘And we have the honeymoon to look forward to, and after that Christmas.’ She felt she might burst with happiness after the trials they had been through. If only the weather would improve, because she could not help feeling apprehensive about the journey up to the cottage, but did not want to say so to Tim.
The reception went off perfectly, with no disharmony at all. Nellie had prepared a wonderful buffet, which included Maggie and Josh’s special sherry trifle, and coffee-and-walnut and chocolate cakes. Marty was the first to make a speech, pulling no punches about his brother and what a scamp he had been when younger, but how they had missed him when he had gone on the run, and been so relieved when he turned up again, and how Marty, in particular, had rejoiced when Tim had set his mind on turning over a new leaf. He praised his courage in saving a boy’s life, which had resulted in Tim paying for his past sins and then being blessed by meeting Lucia.
Michelangelo’s speech was heart-warming in his praise of his niece, saying that she had shown she was made of the right stuff, even as a child, when she had been her parents’ little helper, willing to do any task they asked of her. In marrying Tim she had proved that she was up to any challenge presented to her, and he did not doubt that she and her new husband had an interesting and enjoyable life ahead of them, because they had both been through tough times and loved each other.
After the speech and the wedding cake – a surprise gift from Josh – had been cut, the tables and chairs were pushed back and Monica, Nick and Tony and the rest of the music group were there to entertain the wedding couple and their guests with old as well as new songs. Naturally there was some jazz for Tim and the romantic tunes of the fifties, as well as those in the new decade of the sixties, including Helen Shapiro’s ‘Walking Back to Happiness’.
Tim and Lucia had decided to leave at two o’clock, wanting to arrive at the cottage before dark. It was not only Nellie who voiced her concern about driving conditions as the newly married couple put on their outdoor clothes, but Marty as well, and then Theresa piped up with her worry, and when Lucia went into an upstairs bedroom to say her farewells to Joseph and Jerry, they clung to her and said they didn’t want her and Tim to go. They were both remembering the car skidding on the icy road earlier in the year, and Joseph was thinking about the car crash in which his parents had died. She told them to stop worrying and decided she had to speak to Tim about the boys’ fears.
Tim was waiting outside on the landing, looking tense. He raised a questioning eyebrow as she came out of the bedroom. She said, ‘I’ve been thinking—’
‘So have I – little as I like to suggest it, I think we should postpone our honeymoon.’
‘I’m so glad you said that,’ Lucia said. ‘I didn’t want it to be me saying it, in case you thought I didn’t trust your driving.’
Tim took her hand and touched her shiny new wedding ring. ‘I’m not completely stupid. As much as I was looking forward to us getting away on our own, I was aware that it was risky, us making the journey to Whalley. We have responsibilities, and if anything were to happen to us, it would upset the boys and be a great inconvenience to our relatives.’
‘So, what are we going to do? I was hoping it would be just me and you alone tonight?’ Lucia said.
‘I’ve been thinking about it, and suggest asking Nellie if the children could stay here tonight and you and I will go back home and stay there.’
‘Just the two of us,’ she said, snuggling in to him.
‘Yeah, just the two of us,’ he reiterated, kissing the top of her head.
Eighteen
A few hours later, Lucia and Tim set out on foot for home, having discovered that, even if they had not already changed their mind about going to Whalley, they would have had no choice but to do so. Freezing conditions as the evening drew on meant they couldn’t even get into the van, as the keyhole was frozen.
They huddled together as they walked carefully along the pavement in the direction of Seaforth, making just a couple of stops on the way. By the time they reached the house they were cold right through. Fortunately they had no trouble opening the front door, so all that was needed was to put a lighted match to the fire after clearing away the cinders and ashes and building a new pile of newspaper, wood and coal.
They both knelt in front of the fire, holding their hands out to it. Then Lucia stood up and went and put the kettle on the stove and collected some cutlery and plates. She returned to the fireplace and looked down at Tim. ‘Do you know what I want?’
‘Tell me?’ he said.
‘A bath. The back boiler should soon heat the water up but, just to speed it up, I’ll switch the immersion heater on as well.’
He gazed up at her with a quizzical expression. ‘You wouldn’t rather go to bed? I don’t know about you but I’m freezing after the walk, and we’ll soon get warm in bed.’
‘Hu
mour me,’ she said. ‘Bed can wait. You’ll soon warm up if you stay in front of the fire while I’m making us a hot drink. After all, it’s not nine o’clock yet. It would be a good idea to put a couple of hot-water bottles in the bed. You could do that while I have my bath. Then we’ll have food and go to bed.’
‘All right, if that’s really what you want,’ he said, not moving. ‘If you could get the hotties out.’
She felt a rush of love for him, pleased that he had fallen in with her wishes. She had bought a chicken from the cooked meat shop, so she only had to cook vegetables and make gravy. For pudding she had some of the trifle in a small bowl. She prepared the vegetables and put them in water in pans, and also took the hotties from a cupboard. As the kettle was boiling she made a pot of tea, and then filled the kettle again and put it on for the hotties.
She told Tim what she had done and, after drinking a cup of tea, she said that she was going upstairs to run her bath. The water was hot enough for her so Lucia added bubble bath and wasted no time undressing and lowering herself into the scented, foaming bathwater after automatically locking the door. She freed a sigh of pleasure, thinking this was the life. No kids around wanting something from her which would entail her having to cut short her soak in the bath.
A few minutes later there came a rap of knuckles on the door and Tim’s voice floated through, asking could he come in. For a moment, a flustered Lucia could not think what to say and then, remembering he was now her husband, realized he was entitled to come and talk to her while she was in the bath. There was no need for her to feel embarrassed by his seeing her naked as the bubbles covered most of her body. Besides, they would be sharing a bed later, so she called to him to come in.
‘I can’t, the door is locked,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to unlock it.’
‘That means I’ll have to get out of the bath and I’ve only just got in. I’ll catch cold.’
‘It’s not going to kill you to get out, is it? You can get back in again. It’s me that’s getting cold out here. Now open the door, please?’
She swore beneath her breath. This was not how she had imagined her wedding night. She remembered her dreams of marrying a rich man who would take all her cares from her shoulders. In those dreams, she had never thought much about what she would have to give up in return for such a life.
She thought about hurrying from the bath to the door and back in her bare skin. He would see her in her birthday suit and she would not look her best. She thought about the pretty pink and cream nightdress still packed in the suitcase in the van. She had planned to be wearing it when he came to bed; had pictured him staring at her and telling her how lovely she looked, before he climbed into bed, kissed her, and switched off the bedside lamp. Then they would snuggle up and that was as far as her imagination had gone. Nothing was going to plan.
She climbed out of the bath and scuttled over to the door. ‘Now, promise you’ll keep your eyes closed until I tell you to open them?’ she said, drawing the small bolt.
‘You are joking?’ said Tim, gazing down at her.
She stared at him, wondering, why was he clad only in a towel, and that slung about his hips? She let out a shriek and turned and headed for the bath. She felt his arms go round her slippery body and he lifted her up before lowering her into the hot water. Bliss! she thought, before becoming aware he was climbing in the bath as well.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked, only catching a brief glimpse of him as he disposed of the towel.
‘Having a bath? You don’t mind sharing, do you?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t shared a bath since I was a toddler.’
She felt his foot rub against her thigh. ‘D-don’t crowd me,’ she stammered.
‘Crowd you? There’s only the two of us. I used to dream of us sharing a bath together. I thought it would be heaven. This is married life, love. Sharing experiences.’
Lucia thought about how different men and women were and she remembered her past dreams, which quickly faded now she was faced with the reality of being married to a real man.
‘Us two alone together,’ said Tim, reaching out a hand to her. ‘When I was growing up in a house with no bathroom, and having a bath entailed filling a tin bath with kettles of hot water, the thought of being in a bathroom where the hot water came from a tap was one of my dreams, so when I fell in love with you, I thought having the two together would be real happiness.’
She took his hand. ‘I never had to fill a tin bath with kettles, but I do love a good soak, so I can understand where you’re coming from. Mind you, I’ve always had to cut it short because of the kids. So, can we come to an agreement? We can, every now and again, share a bath, but I also want the bath to myself at times.’
‘Sure! Shall we shake on it?’ They shook hands and kissed.
‘The trouble with having five beings under one roof is that there’s little room for intimacy and privacy between us.’
‘So what’s your plan?’
‘That we make space for ourselves by having time away at least every other month, if we can. It would be great if one day we could afford to buy a cottage in the country, or by the sea.’
Lucia said, ‘How about buying a caravan in Wales that we could escape to?’
‘That sounds like a great plan.’ And Tim started singing, ‘Walking Back to Happiness’.
Lucia threw a sponge at him. ‘You never told me that you sang in the bath.’
‘Well, now you know, am I banned?’
She looked as if she was giving that some thought before saying, ‘No! I’ve always enjoyed a good singsong. Besides, this is our honeymoon and that means lots of loving.’ She scooped up a handful of soapsuds and threw them at him.