Secrets of the Shipyard Girls
Page 31
‘Oh, and one more thing before I go back and join my guests at my wedding reception, you might as well know – as you are my sister, after all – everyone calls me “Bel”. I hate being called “Isabelle” so, please, don’t ever call me “Isabelle” again otherwise I might not be as polite as I am being now.’
And with that Bel stomped towards the door, swung it open, and walked out of the snug, leaving Maisie standing on her own in the middle of the room.
‘Are you all right? We can go home if you want?’ Joe asked Bel as soon as she emerged from the snug. He had watched Pearl leave and had anxiously waited for Bel to resurface.
‘What?’ Bel forced an unconvincing smile. ‘And miss my own wedding reception?’ Her words came out with a large breath. Her heart was hammering, and she felt like she’d just done a hundred yard dash.
Joe put his arm round her and gave her a quick hug.
‘And we’re not going home,’ Bel added, ‘that’s for sure. My wonderful sister-in-law …’ she spoke up as Polly came hurrying over, ‘… has got us a room in the best hotel in town.’
‘Are you all right?’ Polly asked, her face etched with concern.
Bel let out a slightly embittered laugh.
‘You know my family, Pol, as well as I do. Always full of surprises.’
It hadn’t escaped Bel’s notice that she might only just have met Maisie and had spent barely half an hour in her company, but she was clearly every inch her mother’s daughter; born with an inherent need to be the centre of attention, whether that be for good or bad.
‘If you want I can go to the Grand and see if they can change the reservation to another night?’ Polly asked, tentatively, glancing at Joe to gauge his reaction.
‘No way!’ Bel said. ‘You’ve got to be joking. Wild horses couldn’t stop me going there tonight. I haven’t even been inside the foyer, never mind stayed in one of the rooms there. I’m fine,’ she told Polly. ‘Honestly, I am.
‘Now, come on,’ she added, taking hold of Joe’s hand, ‘let’s go and see what that little girl of mine is up to.’
As Bel walked on, Polly threw her brother a concerned look. He smiled sadly at his sister. They both knew that it didn’t matter how hard Bel tried, Maisie had succeeded in chucking a great big pan of cold water over this special day. They also knew, however, that Bel would put on a show for the remainder of her wedding reception, and would only sit back and lick her wounds in private.
Chapter Forty-Two
Lily was furious with Maisie and had been keeping an eagle eye on the snug door waiting for her most recent employee to come out. She felt more than a little guilty that this debacle they had all just witnessed on poor Bel’s wedding day was, to a certain extent, her fault as she had been the person to bring Maisie into contact with the Elliots. And what was making her even angrier was that it looked like Maisie had used her – and Rosie – to get close to Bel and Pearl, thus enabling her to carry out her timely revenge.
‘The ironic thing is,’ George said quietly to Lily, ‘that Maisie did actually tell us she had come up north to get –“reacquainted”, I think was the word she used – with some of her relatives.’
‘Hmm,’ Lily said, her lips pursed shut, her eyes still glued to the snug.
As Maisie emerged, she put her head down and started to walk quickly to the saloon door leading out into the hallway – but there was no way that Lily was going to let her sneak out without giving her a piece of her mind.
‘I want words with you when I get back, young lady,’ Lily said, grabbing Maisie’s slender arm and stopping her in her tracks.
‘What you just did there was totally unforgivable,’ Lily hissed in her ear. ‘So, don’t think you’re going to get away with this lightly. And don’t even think about doing a moonlight flit, because I will find you – and then you really will be sorry.’
When Maisie looked up at her boss, she saw she had crossed the wrong person. She hadn’t really thought through the full consequences of her actions – had just been so focused on her plans and how she wanted to confront her mother. She had heard Lily could be vicious when she needed to be – had heard plenty of stories from the other girls – but Maisie had foolishly thought she might somehow be immune to it. Clearly this was not the case. And as for doing a midnight bunk, well, the thought had gone through her head, but she was a realist – she had nowhere else to go.
‘I’m sorry, Lily,’ Maisie said, trying to smooth the way for later on. She looked at Lily and then down to the ground. ‘I’ll wait up.’ Maisie wasn’t stupid. She knew what side her bread was buttered, and she knew she was going to have to work hard at placating Lily and making amends in order to get her and George back onside.
Lily loosened her grip on Maisie’s arm just as Vivian came hurrying over, her normally animated face looking poker serious. She had been chatting to one of the Home Guards, who, it turned out, was actually a schoolteacher and was quite funny, but when she’d spotted Maisie being caught in Lily’s vice-like grip, she had quickly made her excuses and gone to her friend’s aid.
‘You going?’ she asked Maisie, her eyes flicking to Lily’s stony face.
‘Yes, she is, Vivian,’ Lily said, releasing Maisie.
‘And Vivian,’ Lily said, as both women turned to leave, ‘I’d better not find out you had anything to do with any of this.’
Vivian shook her head vehemently.
As Vivian and Maisie slipped out of the bar, their departure was not missed by Kate, now playing peek-a-boo with Lucille. Her comic façade belied the outrage boiling up inside her. Maisie had spoilt the wedding – not just for Bel, but for Pearl too. And worse still, she was seriously wondering if Maisie had actually been devious enough to have held the fascinator back so that she could orchestrate her impromptu invite to the wedding.
‘My dear, are you all right?’ It was George, returning to Lily’s side. He had quickly nipped over to the newly-marrieds to see if they wanted to be taken to the hotel now rather than later. When Bel had told him it was a very kind offer, but they were going to stay and enjoy the party, he’d seen dogged determination on her face. She was not going to let this ruin her wedding day. For the first time George saw that behind Bel’s sweet persona there was a very resilient woman. Joe had chosen well.
‘No, George, I’m not all right.’ Lily’s voice was harsh but quiet; she did not want to give away the fury building up inside her. ‘That girl’s used us like a good ’un,’ she said, taking a swig of her whisky, ‘but worst of all, she’s tarnished us.’
George looked at Lily and knew how much being invited here today had meant to her. It was the first social event she had been asked to in a long while. And now it had been ruined by one of her girls.
‘God knows how Rosie’s feeling. She’s going to rue the day she even told us all about the wedding, never mind got us involved.’ As Lily spoke, she and George automatically looked around to find Rosie, who was sitting chatting to Gloria.
‘Don’t say that,’ George said. It hurt him even to think Rosie was in any way ashamed of them. ‘There’s only one person to blame for what has happened – and that’s Maisie. No one’s going to blame you – or Rosie. You’re not responsible for the actions of others.
‘Come on,’ George cajoled the woman who had become such an important part of his life for the past few years. ‘Let’s try and enjoy the rest of the party. If the bride and groom can do it –’ they both looked over to see Bel and Joe, now chatting away to Hannah, Olly and Martha, ‘– then we jolly well can. So, chin up,’ he said, taking Lily’s arm, ‘it looks to me as if you need a refill … I certainly do.’
But as George guided Lily towards the bar he had to mask his own, slightly selfish concerns that Maisie might have also spoilt what was meant to be his own very ‘special day’.
If any of the other guests saw Maisie leave they pretended not to notice. What had happened between Pearl and Bel and this ‘coloured’ woman called Maisie had clearly caused great
upset, but this was a wedding – it was meant to be a happy occasion, and so that’s exactly what they would try and make it.
Bill was doing a grand job of keeping the mood upbeat, playing the role of the loud and cheerful landlord, laughing and joking at the bar.
Dorothy and Angie were naturally lightening the heavy atmosphere with their youthful exuberance, captivating all the young men with their vivaciousness. It was also obvious Dorothy was more than a little keen on Hector, who, in her eyes, had been the hero of the hour.
Bel, naturally, was playing the perfect host, chatting away to her guests as if nothing had happened; inwardly, though, she was finding it hard to ignore the myriad of thoughts that kept finding their way back to the forefront of her mind.
She had a sister!
Her mother had had another child!
Bel had so many questions swimming around in her head, but she had to push them back, knowing that, at the moment, they would have to remain unanswered. She tried to keep a convincing smile on her face, but it wasn’t easy, and on top of everything else she had an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach about her ma. She would have felt more at ease if her mother had come back to the party.
Bill was also concerned about Pearl – he knew how much today had meant to her and how much work she had put into it. If truth be told, it hadn’t surprised him that Pearl had had another child, who she’d put up for adoption. It was far from unusual, especially for someone like Pearl who had been brought up in the slums down by the south docks. No one who came from that poverty-stricken part of town had had an easy upbringing.
But what was unusual was that the child she’d given up had grown up, journeyed all the way from the Big Smoke to track her down – and then declared herself in such a dramatic fashion. Bill could only surmise that this Maisie woman had wanted to shame Pearl, to humiliate her – not only for having an illegitimate baby, but for the fact that Pearl had been with a black man.
As Bill pulled himself a pint, he mused that such a public confrontation would have brought terrible shame to most women, but not Pearl. She really was a rare one; a right tough nut. Bill knew her well enough now to be sure she wouldn’t have given a monkey’s chuff what anyone thought of her. But, he also knew that seeing the baby she had given away had shocked her to the core. That much was clear for all to see.
‘Poor Bel, eh?’ It was one of the barmaids. ‘Fancy having that happen on your wedding day.’
Bill nodded his head.
‘Aye, that Maisie couldn’t have picked a worse time to do something like this. Or better. Depending on your perspective …’ Bill’s words tailed off as the beer frothed and spat out of the pipe, telling him he needed to change the barrel.
Most of the other guests’ sympathies also lay firmly with Bel; no one more so than Rosie, who, like Lily, felt responsible.
‘Rosie, it’s not your fault,’ Bel had told her when she’d apologised. ‘It’s not anyone’s fault. Honestly, I mean that. The biggest sin you’ve committed is being too kind.’ Bel had spoken in earnest. ‘Look at this gorgeous dress you gave me as my wedding present –’ she had gently taken hold of her silk dress ‘– I could never have dreamed about being married in such a fabulous dress.’
The women welders had all been shocked by what they had witnessed. Hannah was particularly taken aback. The world she’d inhabited before the war had been a sheltered one. Martha too had been affected, although for different reasons, for she knew her mother and father were not her so-called ‘real’ parents, although it had never occurred to her – nor had she the desire – to find the woman who had given birth to her.
When the party was back in full swing, Joe and Bel jointly cut the cake, amidst much cheering and applause. Watching her son and daughter-in-law, Agnes’s heart felt heavy. She wished that, just for once, a celebratory event could be just that – a happy occasion, with no upset or drama. God knew, they’d had enough this past year to last them a lifetime. But, it seemed, whenever Pearl was part of the equation there was invariably some kind of trouble, or scene. Bel’s ma may have been easier to tolerate of late, but she still had an innate knack of bringing turmoil into the lives she touched – whether intentionally or otherwise. And, it looked like this Maisie was a chip off the old block.
They would all get through the day the best they could, but Agnes knew this was not the end of it. Far from it. She was under no illusion: what had occurred this afternoon would have wide-reaching repercussions.
By early evening, the older guests, including Mavis and Maud and some of the elderly neighbours, headed home, and were replaced by some of the regulars who slipped in to join the revelry. The buffet had been reduced to crumbs and Bill and Ronald had tidied up and moved the makeshift table out the back to make space so that the partygoers could have a little room to dance.
Beryl had cajoled Joe and Bel into having the first dance, and Joe had done the best slow waltz he could manage without the aid of his walking stick; everyone had chuckled when Lucille had interrupted them by tugging on Joe’s trousers and demanding to join in.
Albert had been particularly moved by the sight of Bel, with her daughter on her hip, dancing with her new husband, who was now, much to Lucille’s glee, the father she had been determined to have since first clapping eyes on him.
Bill kept the music going as the other wedding guests took to their feet, Dorothy being one of the first up with Hector, then Angie and Bert, followed by a blushing Hannah as Olly took her hand and gently tugged her on to the makeshift dance floor. Even George eventually persuaded Lily to ‘give me the pleasure of a dance’. But by nine o’clock Bel was starting to tire. Reading her thoughts, Joe asked, ‘You ready now?’ Bel nodded and the pair of them went round their guests and said their thank-yous and goodbyes.
On seeing them preparing to leave, George switched back into his chauffeur mode and ushered the newly-marrieds out of the pub and into the MG for the final trip of their wedding day.
‘Honestly, George, we could walk from here,’ Bel objected, but George wasn’t having any of it.
‘No, no, you’re actually doing me a favour,’ he said, ‘I need to clear my head for something … Need my wits about me – so you’re doing me a favour.’
After George dropped them off at the Grand, he stayed a moment and watched them as they hurried through the impressive hotel entrance. He hoped what had happened earlier on wouldn’t spoil their first night together as man and wife.
Checking his inside pocket for the umpteenth time that evening, he put the car into first gear, and headed back to the pub.
Chapter Forty-Three
The Grand Hotel, Bridge Street, Sunderland
Bel might have been able to put on a plausible show for her wedding guests, but Joe knew that behind his wife’s happy exterior there was a troubled woman. As they waved George off and stepped across the threshold of the Grand Hotel, Joe could see his new wife wilt, but she still managed to smile sweetly at the concierge who gave Joe the key to their room and congratulated them on their nuptials.
As they walked up the Axminster-carpeted stairs to the second floor and along the corridor to their room, Joe put his arm around her waist and squeezed her gently.
‘I can read you like a book, Mrs Elliot,’ he said, as he put the key in the lock. Before he opened the door, he turned to look at her.
‘You’ve been waiting for this moment all night,’ he said, adding with a slight self-deprecating chuckle, ‘and it’s not because you’re swooning at the thought of finally getting your new husband on his own.’
Bel smiled up at Joe a little sadly, and kissed him lightly on the lips. She then bent down and took off her slingback shoes.
‘Ah, that’s better,’ she said, letting them dangle from her hand.
When Joe opened the door and switched the light on, they both took an intake of breath. The oak-panelled room, with its thick tapestry curtains and huge king-sized bed, was like nothing either of them had ever seen before. And to
add to the opulence of their honeymoon suite, Polly, Dorothy and Angie had covered the bed with a sea of confetti and rose petals. Bel also spotted an overnight bag by the tall mahogany wardrobe, and a candle and box of matches on each bedside table, alongside a miniature bottle of brandy.
‘Oh,’ Bel said, stepping into the room and looking around in amazement. ‘It’s wonderful …’ She looked up at Joe. ‘You know … I’m a very lucky woman.’
Joe looked down at his bride and thought only Bel could say that after all that had happened today.
‘Well, if you’re lucky I don’t know what that makes me,’ he said, then pulled her close and kissed her.
‘Now, Mrs Elliot,’ Joe said, sitting his wife down on one of the two armchairs next to a little coffee table by the huge sash window, ‘tell me how you’re really feeling?’
Joe knew that tonight would not be the night of their dreams when they fell into each other’s arms and made love without a care in the world. Too much had happened and Joe knew Bel well enough to know that deep down she was in bits and needed to talk. There would be plenty of other nights ahead of them when they could consummate their marriage.
Joe hobbled over to the bedside tables and got the little bottles of brandy and poured them into two glasses. He gave one to Bel, who took a sip and leant back into the comfort of the cushioned leather chair. She had purposely not had much to drink at the reception as she wouldn’t have trusted herself if she’d become a little tipsy.
‘Oh Joe,’ she said, tears starting to fill her eyes. ‘It was awful. I don’t know if you heard anything when you were stood outside the snug?’
Joe shook his head, easing himself into the chair with the help of his stick.
‘Tell me,’ he said.
As Bel unburdened herself, Joe listened, occasionally asking a question.