by Maggie Hope
‘What am I going to do? If I get caught going in late I’ll be asked to leave, then what will my parents have to say? They might make me go home to the farm.’ Frances sounded as though having to go home to the farm and give up her idea of being a New Woman was the equivalent of being consigned to a nunnery.
Johnny thought quickly. They were both shivering as the night air penetrated through their clothing, and they had to get indoors. His own apartment was only a block away by this time, for they had been walking in its direction. He could go and get his car, which was parked there, and run Frances home himself.
‘Don’t worry, Frances,’ he said. ‘I’ll have you home in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.’ And they set off.
By the time they reached his apartment block, he was beginning to think that the plan was not a very good one after all. He was woozy himself and in no fit state to drive through the city. There was no help for it.
‘You’d better come in with me. You can take my bed and I’ll sleep on the sofa in the living room.’ Johnny hesitated. ‘Will they know you’re not in at the hostel, do you think?’
‘It’ll be fine, Johnny, really.’ Frances was beginning to lose all her inhibitions: she was cold, she wanted to get back into the warm, but most of all she wanted the evening with Johnny to go on and on, never to end.
It was a small block of apartments without a night porter, so Johnny had his own keys to the main door and they got into the flat unseen by anyone. Woozy though he was, Johnny still held onto the idea that he had to protect her reputation. Though the apartment was lovely and warm from the central heating, he felt her shivering when he took her coat.
‘I’ll make some coffee,’ he whispered, taking her in his arms and holding her close, feeling the shuddering in her body and waiting for it to subside a little. Her arms crept round his waist and she laid her head on his chest, closing her eyes. Her shivering gradually lessened as the warmth of the room seeped into her. She felt deadly tired but didn’t want to say so, she wanted him to hold her like this for ever.
Johnny looked down at her. Her hair had tumbled over her face and her white skin was tinged with rose. With her slight frame and her eyes closed she could almost have been … No, it was an illusion, it was the wine, he told himself.
‘Come along, dear, I’ll get you to bed. You’re dead on your feet,’ he said and took her with him into the bedroom. Her arms were, by this time, around his neck and she refused to let go, drawing him down onto the bed with her. He could feel her yearning reaching out to him. Before he knew what was happening they were in the bed together, clasped heart to heart.
He buried his head in the curve of her neck, feeling the soft swell of her breasts against him and breathing in the clean, fragrant smell of her hair. Frances gave herself to him joyously. She had loved him so long, ever since she had walked into his office, fresh from the business college, and taken the post he offered.
‘Lorinda!’ Johnny sighed into her hair. ‘My lovely Ada-Lorinda.’
But Frances didn’t hear what it was he was saying, only the love in his voice as he said it. Exhilaration flooded through her: he was hers now, all her dreams were being realised.
Chapter Eighteen
Tom and Ada were married on August Bank Holiday Saturday, 1914. Ada had at last completed the two years of her training and received the certificate saying so. Tom was back in Durham, his time as a houseman finished; he was going into practice with his father.
On the morning of the wedding, Ada sat before the dressing-table looking glass in the spare bedroom in Mr Johnson’s cottage, gazing at her reflection. She was on her own; Virginia, who was to be matron of honour, had not yet appeared.
‘You must be married from my house, my dear,’ Mr Johnson had declared. ‘You can’t possibly go to the church from the Grays’ place, it would be a bad omen for your future life. No, I insist. You’ll have left the hospital by then and in any case it would not be suitable for you to marry from there.’
Ada was persuaded. ‘You’re very good to me, Mr Johnson,’ she had replied. ‘Why are you so good to me?’
Mr Johnson had looked flustered for a moment before recovering his poise. ‘Nonsense! I’m a lonely old man and you have been good to me, visiting me and telling me all your news. You’re like a breath of fresh air in the place. You’re sure you don’t mind me giving you away? I only suggested it because I thought –’
‘No, no, Mr Johnson, indeed, it’s very good of you to bother. And you’re right, having Dr Gray giving me away was perhaps not the best thing.’
‘Well, I’m proud to do it. I’m fond of you, you know. And proud, too, after all, you are a product of my teaching.’
And a little effort on my part, thought Ada, but she merely smiled wryly.
Now, on the morning of her wedding, Ada sat and pulled her hairbrush through her hair, little flutterings of apprehension coursing through her veins. The doorbell rang and she heard Mr Johnson’s voice as he opened the door to whoever it was – Virginia, probably. There was a soft knock on the bedroom door.
‘Come in,’ she called.
‘Ada! Howay, man! Aren’t you getting ready? You don’t want to be late for your own wedding.’
It was not Virginia who walked in but Eliza and her two boys. Bertie was now a solemn seven-year-old, thin and ill at ease in his new tweed suit and high collar, Miles, a sturdy four-year-old, still had the plump cheeks of babyhood.
Ada jumped up in welcome. ‘Eliza! Oh, it’s lovely to see you, it is that.’ She hugged her friend and gazed critically at her, it was a few months since she had seen her. Eliza looked tired and careworn, she thought, a trifle anxiously. ‘Bye, I’m glad to see you, Eliza, and the bairns too. Haven’t they grown?’
‘Auntie Ada, Auntie Ada.’ Bertie and Miles were tugging at her skirt, trying to get her attention. She bent and put an arm around each of them, kissing them soundly. ‘Aren’t you big, both of you?’ she cried, and the boys puffed up with pride, both standing as tall as they could.
Eliza laughed. ‘They’ve been looking forward to coming all week,’ she said. ‘They couldn’t sit still on the train, they were so excited. I thought I might have a bit of trouble finding the right house, but it wasn’t so hard. I –’
They were interrupted by a perfunctory knock on the door and Virginia swept in, plumply pretty in pink tulle. She briefly acknowledged Ada’s words of introduction to Eliza and the boys.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ Eliza mumbled, holding out her work-stained hand, which Virginia barely touched. Eliza stood back, looking decidedly uncomfortable, with the two boys by her side, watching Virginia with wondering eyes.
‘Oh, come on, Ada,’ Virginia said crossly. ‘For goodness’ sake! It’s time you were dressed. Why you wanted to go to the church from here I can’t imagine, it would have been so much more convenient if you had been at Daddy’s. I had to trail all the way down here, everything’s been such a rash, with us having to come from Jesmond.’
‘Sorry, Virginia,’ Ada murmured, more interested in putting Eliza at ease than in what her future sister-in-law was saying. ‘Eliza, take the boys into the kitchen. I made some lemonade this morning specially for them.’
Eliza looked relieved and even Bertie brightened up. His lower lip had begun to stick out as he heard the lady scold his Auntie Ada.
‘Yes, yes, I will, thank you, Ada.’ Eliza took the boys and crossed to the door, turning as she got there. ‘I’ll go on then, as soon as they’ve had a drink,’ she said, looking nervously at Virginia.
‘Yes, you know where it is, don’t you, Eliza? Go up to the marketplace, it’s on the right there, you can’t miss it.’ Ada ignored Virginia’s impatient frown and went to her friend, pressing her arm. ‘I’ll have a word with you afterwards at the reception,’ she said softly. ‘You won’t go before I do, will you?’
‘No, no, I won’t,’ Eliza agreed slowly, showing Ada she had guessed her feelings aright: Eliza was obviously hoping the rest of Ada�
�s new friends were not so intimidating as Virginia.
Ada, dressed in cream-coloured lace with shoes to match and carrying a nosegay of fragrant rosebuds, was a vision of petite loveliness. She was not twenty-one years old and still possessed the air of delicate innocence that had first attracted Tom, now emphasised by the creamy veil covering the dark curls piled on top of her head.
She was escorted down the aisle of St Nicholas’s Church by an obviously proud Mr Johnson, distinguished-looking in morning dress and followed by Virginia, her matron of honour, smiling now, the bad temper of the morning forgotten. With the organ ringing out ‘Here Comes the Bride’, everyone standing and all eyes on her, Ada felt suddenly sick. All she wanted to do was turn and run; she couldn’t possibly go through with it, she knew she could not. She faltered and Mr Johnson took a firmer grip on her arm. Then she saw Eliza standing near the back of the church, the two boys peeping round her skirts. The three of them, even little Miles, were smiling at her so proudly that her momentary panic subsided and she gave them a tiny wink.
As Ada approached Tom, standing by Christopher, his best man, she saw he was watching her, his eyes full of love, pride and tenderness. She looked up at him. Over the last few years, Tom had outgrown his boyishness; this was a mature man, calm and confident, a rock to depend on. But was it what she really wanted? Ada’s doubts returned in full force.
Why was she doing this? She knew she was not really in love with Tom – oh aye, she loved him all right, she did. But in love with him? As she had been in love with Johnny? Her heart beat faster and faster. What was she doing? I’m not being fair to Tom, she told herself, no, I’m not. She panicked. Why had she not told him the truth during all those years of engagement? Her thoughts raced in the few seconds it took for him to step forward. Virginia took her nosegay but Ada hardly noticed it, her vision blurring.
Mr Johnson was well aware of her panic, but he put it down to the nervous reaction common to most brides. Firmly he took her in hand, leading her to Tom’s side and placing her hand in her bridegroom’s. Tom held it firmly, proudly, and the ceremony began.
Ada made her responses in a dream. Everything was unreal to her, what was she doing? Yet she carried on doing it, not knowing what else she could do. And at last it was over and they came out into the sunlight with well-wishers crowding round them. She was married now, she thought, for better or worse. She had to put aside her doubts, it was too late to change her mind. With quick resolve she told herself she would make Tom the best wife she could.
The reception was held at the Grays’ home but, in contrast to Virginia’s wedding, there were not many guests and they fitted easily into the house with no need for a marquee. It was informal, a buffet with plates of cold chicken and salad, and the guests, mostly friends of the Grays with a few colleagues of Ada’s from the hospital, who had managed to get the time off from the wards, chatted happily among themselves. All but Eliza, Ada noticed; Eliza was standing in a corner with her children.
Ada’s heart smote her: Eliza looked middle-aged already. Her fair hair, drawn back into a bun at the nape of her neck, was lustreless and had threads of grey running through it. The skin beneath her eyes was already lined and she had a general air of weariness. She wore a cheap print dress which must have looked pretty to her this morning, but now, contrasted with the dresses of the girls around her, it looked what it was, a dress from an Auckland market stall. Yet Eliza was only in her early twenties, and only a short time ago she would have looked pretty in anything.
Ada started to make her way towards her friend but was stopped by Meg Morton. Meg too had gained her certificate of nursing and was about to take up a position at the Lady Eden Cottage Hospital in Bishop Auckland.
Meg was very excited at going back to Auckland at last. ‘I’m looking forward to it, Ada, and you must be too, starting a new life – won’t your nursing come in handy as a doctor’s wife? I hope you’ll both be very happy.’
‘Thank you, Meg, and you too, good luck in your new post,’ Ada echoed. ‘I don’t know if you know my friend Eliza Maxwell? Come over and I’ll introduce you. Eliza lives near West Auckland.’
Introductions over, the three women chatted together for a few minutes until Eliza, hearing the clock in the hall chiming three, declared she had to get back.
‘There’s the milking to do, Ada,’ she explained and looked around for her two boys. They were quite close, sitting together on a sofa and watching the people around them with large, solemn eyes. ‘Howay, pets, time to go to the station,’ she called, and the two little boys scrambled down and came to her side.
‘Oh, are you going by train? I am too, we might as well go together. I was going to catch a later train but it will be nice to have company. What lovely boys you have, aren’t you lucky? Whereabouts do you say you live? On a farm it must be – that’s grand for them.’
Meg, being the friendly soul she always was, chatted away as they walked to the door with Ada and Tom, who had joined her, slipping his arm through hers with a proprietorial air.
‘I’ll get through to see you as soon as I can after we come back,’ Ada promised Eliza. ‘We’ll have a chat, just like old times. And when Miles starts school maybe you’ll be able to visit me.’
Eliza bit her lip. ‘We’ll see, pet, we’ll see. You know, love, I’m so pleased for you. Tom’s a grand man, he is. Eeh, fancy, little Ada Leigh, a doctor’s wife. Who’d have thought it a few years ago?’
Tom didn’t hear this, he was walking on down the drive to the entrance with Meg. Ada watched him as he reached the gate and paused, half turning, as he made polite conversation to her colleague. Who would have thought it indeed, she mused. He was so handsome, so decent, so dependable. She would make him a good wife, she would make up to him for not loving him as she should, she vowed. But Eliza was saying something.
‘I might be getting married myself, later on.’
‘What?’ Ada was startled.
‘Well, I’ll tell you about it when I write, Ada. I’ve got your new address. We’d better be off now.’
Ada kissed the boys goodbye and then she and Tom were walking back to the house. It was almost time for them to leave themselves and they had to change for the journey. Most of the wedding party accompanied them to the station, laughing and joking, noisy with the unaccustomed champagne drunk in the middle of the day.
Ada threw her bouquet from the window of the train and the girls in the crowd scrambled to catch the nosegay of Gloire de Dijon roses. She didn’t see who got them for at last they were off.
‘Seven whole days, darling.’
Tom picked confetti out of Ada’s hair before gathering her in his arms. Elation shone in his eyes as he bent to kiss her, pleased he had had the forethought to reserve the whole carriage. He looked quite squiffy with the champagne and excitement. He had waited so long and patiently for this, Ada thought as his lips met hers, gentle at first and then with a new, demanding desire.
A memory which had lurked at the back of her mind for years came to the forefront, causing her instant disquiet: the thought of Uncle Harry and what he had done to her. She sat quietly in Tom’s arms, dread creeping over her. All during their long courtship Tom had behaved with admirable restraint on the occasions they had been able to meet on their own. With Tom in Newcastle and Ada working long hours at the hospital, those occasions had been few and far between, and Ada had been able to forget the thought of what this night would bring.
Men could tell when a woman wasn’t a virgin, couldn’t they? she thought. Especially when they were doctors. She had been violated and Tom would think she was a loose woman. He was looking at her with adoring eyes now but would he do so tomorrow?
Tom dropped a kiss on top of her head and picked up the hand which bore his ring. She smiled a tired, tremulous smile at him.
‘Tired, Ada? The wedding was a bit of a strain, wasn’t it? Don’t worry, you’ll soon recover your spirits. I know my girl: you may be little but you’re tough, tough and
resilient,’ he said fondly. Lifting her hand, he rubbed the ring between finger and thumb, his face reflecting his inner contentment.
They took a cab to their hotel, which overlooked the Spa on Scarborough’s south beach, and later, as they sat through dinner, Ada became more and more distracted and withdrawn. She barely touched her meal, her appetite deserting her completely. She couldn’t seem to pull herself out of her depression, the depths of it dismayed her.
Oh, she thought, I’m not in love with Tom, no, I’m not. And that is going to make things ten times worse. I’m not in love with him and I’m going to hurt him and I don’t want to, no, he’s a lovely man. He doesn’t deserve getting someone like me. Why didn’t he pick someone his own kind?
‘Gosh, you do look tired, my love,’ Tom’s concerned voice broke into her chaotic thoughts. ‘Shall we go up?’
Ada looked at his kind, loving face, knowing he thought she was quiet because she was shy now the time had come. She managed a small smile before she nodded wordlessly to him and allowed him to take her arm and lead her out of the dining room and up the staircase.
‘Men don’t like damaged goods.’ How many times had she heard that expression when she lived with her aunt and uncle in Bishop Auckland? Usually it was her aunt who was using it, and usually when she was pointing out what a no-good, unmarried mother Ada had. Or when she was railing at Ada, telling her it wasn’t going to happen to any lass in her house, no, not if she, Doris Parker, had anything to say about it. Ironical, really, Ada thought, after what had happened in her house. Her thoughts returned to the present as they reached their rooms.
The bridal suite at the Grand Hotel had a separate sitting room with windows overlooking the sea. Ada walked over to them, exclaiming in simulated delight. Tom could only spare seven days from the practice, which had been expanded, since he joined his father, so he had felt he could afford the best for the short time they were there.