When at last the session came to an end, the bridal pair were showered with confetti as they entered the limousine to be chauffeured to the hotel where the reception was to be held. Val travelled with Hannah and Percy in their car. The venue, situated a few miles from the town, had once been a grand country mansion. It stood in spacious grounds, and despite its luxury there was a warm and friendly ambience to the place. A log fire blazed in the entrance hall and a pleasant warmth emanated through the rest of the rooms.
The guests lined up to shake hands with the bride and groom and both sets of parents. Beatrice, to Val’s surprise, smiled at her and said, ‘Hello, Valerie, it’s nice to see you again.’ Val couldn’t think of a suitable reply so she just smiled at them both. Joshua Walker gave her a sly wink.
When they took their places in the oak-panelled dining room Val found she was on a table, not only with Hannah and Percy, but also another couple. Hannah introduced them.
‘This is my brother, George, and his wife, Nellie. And this is Valerie, our Sam’s lady friend.’
The man had a look of both his sisters. He was corpulent and jolly, with a red face and a rather bulbous nose. His wife was of the same build – her tight-fitting dress of royal blue velvet showed off her every curve – with platinum blonde hair and prominent blue eyes highlighted with eyeshadow and mascara.
Val found that they were both very friendly. They chatted throughout the lavish meal of hors d’oeuvres (tiny morsels of meat and fish, not really to Val’s liking), chicken soup, roast lamb with sauté potatoes and green vegetables, and sherry trifle followed by coffee and chocolate mints, all elegantly served from silver salvers by a team of black-suited waiters.
‘So I reckon you’ll be next, you and Sam,’ George remarked to Val, much to her confusion. She found herself blushing, and Hannah came to her rescue.
‘Give over, Georgie, you’re embarrassing the lass.’
‘Oh, sorry luv,’ he said. ‘I was thinking how well Sam had done for himself.’
‘We haven’t known one another all that long,’ Val explained. ‘Well, I knew Samuel but he didn’t know me. I work in the office at Walker’s, you see, and we met in Blackpool at the Winter Gardens, when we were both on holiday there.’
‘Oh … I see!’ George chuckled. ‘I’ll bet that didn’t go down too well with her Ladyship, her son hobnobbing with one of the plebs.’
‘Now now, Georgie!’ said his sister reprovingly.
‘Well, I dare say the lass knows what I mean, don’t you, luv? Lady Muck we call her. She started off wi’ nowt, just as we all did, all us Halliwells. We were fair flummoxed when we got an invite to this ’ere wedding, weren’t we, Nellie? But I said, “Let’s go, eh?” Joshua’s OK, he was always a decent sort of chap. He’s had summat to put up with, married to her.’
‘She’s not so bad,’ said Val. ‘It’s taken a little while for her to get used to the idea of Sam and me, but she’s coming round to it … I think.’
‘A few skeletons have popped out of the cupboard, George,’ said Hannah. ‘Enough said, eh? But I think our sister is starting to look at things rather differently. It’s high time we let bygones be bygones, isn’t it?’
‘I’ll say so,’ agreed George. ‘I persuaded Mam and Dad to come an’ all, and they seem to be getting along fine with old Jacob and his missus.’
The four grandparents were seated at a nearby table and appeared to be most compatible, with no sign of any difference in social standing.
‘Jacob must be well into his eighties by now,’ observed George. ‘I remember him as a bit of a tyrant, but happen he’s mellowed with age. Getting old’s a great leveller.’
‘Shut up, George!’ said his wife. ‘We’ve still got a lot of living to do. Don’t forget you’ve promised to take me on that round the world cruise.’
‘Aye, so I have, one of these days … Hey up, it’s time for the speech-making.’
Wine, both red and white, had been flowing throughout the meal. Now champagne was served to accompany the speeches and the cutting of the cake. There was a toast to the bridesmaids, then the best man’s speech in which Sam praised his brother for all his sterling qualities, and wished the pair every happiness.
‘I thought they didn’t get on,’ George whispered, though quite audibly, to Val.
She whispered back. ‘I think they’re better now. I hope so …’
Jonathan made a speech on behalf of his wife and himself, then they cut the three-tiered wedding cake. The guests then dispersed, forming little groups then moving on to chat to someone else.
‘Well, how did that go?’ Sam asked Val. ‘Sorry I had to neglect you, but I’m sure my aunt looked after you, didn’t she?’
‘Very well indeed,’ said Val. ‘I’ve had a lovely time.’
‘You’ve got yourself a grand little lass there, Sam,’ said George.
‘Yes, I know that, Uncle George.’ Sam smiled at Val as he took hold of her arm. ‘Come along, I’ll introduce you to my grandparents.’
She met both sets of grandparents and felt that she need no longer fear that she could not be a part of this family. They were a mixed bunch, such as you might find in any family gathering.
They mixed and mingled for a while until Thelma and Jonathan reappeared, ready to depart for their honeymoon in the Lake District. Thelma wore her favourite colour of blue, an autumn suit of soft woollen tweed with a tiny blue feathered hat. She threw her bouquet to the crowd. According to the old tale, whoever caught it would be the next bride. Val stood back, not reaching out for the flowers. To do so would seem too eager and presumptuous. It was caught by the bridesmaid who was Thelma’s friend. She smiled up at the young man who was with her and he didn’t seem to mind. It looked as though there might be another wedding before very long.
TWENTY
By Christmas time, Cissie and Walter were settled in their little home. As the two families, the Fosters and Clarksons, were friendly, Christmas Day was an occasion when they all met together, this year at the home of Walter’s parents.
Cissie was feeling well, and was not yet ‘showing’ – as her mother called it – very much. She intended to carry on working at the mill until March as her work in the mending room was not too strenuous. She had been told that the baby was due towards the end of May. She was finding that Walter was a kind and considerate husband, and she was happy and contented enough when they were together in the evening by their own fireside.
Val and Sam’s relationship was blossoming. Sam spent more time at her parents’ home than she did at his. She was invited for the occasional Sunday tea and they had also visited Sam’s aunt Hannah and her husband. Hannah had really taken to Val and the liking was mutual. Val and Cissie were still good friends although they no longer went out together a few times a week as they used to do. Their holiday in Blackpool would be their last jaunt together, despite their intention to visit the resort again the following year.
When the new year of 1956 arrived, Janice enrolled for night school classes in ‘cordon bleu’ cookery. She could cope with the basic meals, but wanted to try her hand at more adventurous dishes. She was leading a full and busy life, working at the newsagent’s shop and looking after her family at meal times. She had spent a couple of days in Ilkley with Phil and his parents just after Christmas. He still intended to come and help out when the holiday season started. Lilian was a little improved but nowhere near ready to take up the reins again.
Phil arrived in Blackpool a couple of days before the Easter weekend to settle in and to plan the menus for the week ahead with Janice. They were not fully booked – they seldom were at the start of the season – but Janice was relieved this year that they could start quietly. Freda had said that she would prefer to return to her part-time duties, helping with the preparation of the meals, now that Phil was part of the regular staff.
What concerned Janice more than anything was the financial side of the business; bookkeeping and dealing with money did not come easily to her. S
he was amazed at how her mother had coped with it all and managed the hotel as well. Janice was relieved when her father found someone who would help with the financial side. He had been talking about their problems with a colleague at work, and learned that the man’s wife who had been a bank clerk, was looking for a part-time job. She was pleased to find work that would fit in with her family commitments and agreed to come in each Saturday when the visitors settled their bills, either by cheque or bank notes. She would deal with all the receipts and the banking, and work out a more professional way of bookkeeping. Janice knew that her mother had done the job well enough, but in a casual manner, such as her own mother had done. The system would be much more efficient with ledgers and account books.
The number of visitors dwindled after Easter until the next Bank Holiday which was Whitsuntide, seven weeks later. Again, they had not had as many bookings for this week as in previous years, something that Lilian would once have been concerned about. The small number of fourteen guests did not worry Janice and, as things turned out, it was fortunate that there weren’t any more.
The Saturday and Sunday passed in the usual flurry of changeover day and getting to know the new guests. Lilian had started greeting the visitors on their arrival as she had always done, although she took no active part afterwards. On Sunday she started to complain of a headache although she didn’t make a great deal of fuss about it. She had never made much of her ailments and, even now, she was not depressed or dispirited.
She went to bed early on the Sunday evening and slept reasonably well. She awoke early at six o’clock and Alec knew at once that something was wrong. She was holding on to her head, shouting incoherently about the pain. Alec put his arms round her as she staggered about the room, then she gave a cry and fell to the floor. She had lost consciousness, but Alec felt that there was still a steady pulse.
He shouted to his daughter who was in the next room. Janice was already up and dressed as she liked to make an early start. Phil, also, was quickly summoned from his room on the top floor. Alec phoned for an ambulance which, fortunately arrived within ten minutes, although the wait seemed endless. The ambulance men placed an oxygen mask over Lilian’s face although she seemed to be breathing quite normally.
‘She’ll be alright, won’t she, Dad?’ asked Janice, although it was a futile question.
‘Let’s hope so, love,’ he said. ‘I’ll go with her to the hospital and see what they say. You’ll have to carry on here, I suppose, with the breakfasts and everything. It’s a good job you’re here, Phil … All we can do is just hope … and say a little prayer. Look after our Ian, won’t you?’
Janice burst into tears as the ambulance drove away. Phil put his arms around her. ‘I know … it’s dreadful, love, but they’ll look after her. They did the last time. She’s in good hands.’
‘Do you think … will she need to have another operation? We thought it was all sorted out, whatever it was.’
‘I can’t say, love. All I know is that you and I have to carry on for now. We’ve got a houseful of visitors. Well, not full, but quite enough to cope with under the circumstances.’
Janice pulled herself together. There was breakfast to be cooked and served, and an evening meal to prepare. Nancy and Olive were soon there to help, and Janice told her brother that Mum had gone to hospital because she had a bad headache again. She was trying to play it down, although she was seriously worried. They decided not to say anything to the guests. Lilian never appeared at breakfast time so there was no point in alarming them. Not yet, thought Janice, wondering how they would manage to get through the week ahead.
Alec rang from the hospital just after breakfast had ended. Lilian was now in the theatre undergoing an emergency operation, and he would stay there for the rest of the day. Ian was not at school as it was the half-term holiday. He sat around listlessly until Janice persuaded him to go and play football with his mates.
All they could do was wait for news from Alec and try to carry on as normally as possible. After a snack lunch they started to prepare for the evening meal. They put on a simple meal on Mondays, after the customary roast that was always served on Sundays. Today it was shepherd’s pie – minced lamb with a browned potato topping. This was followed by apple pie and custard. The homemade apple pies were in the freezer – Janice had baked a batch during a quiet time at the hotel – and they just needed defrosting.
She and Phil worked mechanically, saying very little as they went through the motions. Alec rang again just as the visitors were sitting down for their meal at six o’clock. Lilian was now in the recovery room and he would stay with her, waiting for her to regain consciousness.
‘Do you think you could come, Janice love?’ he asked. ‘I know your mum will want to see you there when she comes round.’
‘Yes … of course I will, Dad,’ she replied.
Phil, Nancy and Olive all agreed that she must go at once, they would see to everything that needed doing. She took a taxi to the hospital, a couple of miles from the town centre, then followed the maze of corridors to where Alec was sitting, in a private room, at Lilian’s bedside. He was looking fondly at her as he held her hand. Her head was bandaged and her face was ghostly pale, but she appeared to be breathing normally.
‘Oh, poor Mum,’ said Janice, ‘having to go through all that again.’ She stooped and kissed her mother’s cheek. ‘It’s over now, though, and she looks peaceful enough.’
After only a brief moment Lilian’s eyelids started to flicker, then she opened her eyes, confusedly at first, until she caught sight of Alec and Janice. Her eyes lit up then, shining like stars.
‘Oh … it’s so lovely to see you,’ she said in a whisper. ‘Alec … and Janice.’ She tried to lift her head to look around, but found she couldn’t do so.
‘Keep still, love,’ said her husband quietly. ‘Don’t try to raise your head. The nurse will help you when you want to sit up.’
‘Where am I?’ she asked in a puzzled voice.
‘You’re in hospital, love,’ said Alec. ‘You remember … the bad headache? We had to bring you here again, but you’re going to be fine.’
‘Where’s Ian?’ she whispered.
‘He’s at home, Lilian. He sends his love. I expect you’ll be in here a little while, but we’ll come and see you every day, Janice and me.’
‘That’s nice,’ she muttered. She gave them a radiant smile then, suddenly, her head fell sideways on the pillow as she lost consciousness again. Alec and Janice could see that the monitor at the side of the bed had changed its rhythm, although they didn’t understand it fully.
‘Quick … get the nurse,’ cried Janice. ‘Dad, go and tell them … I think she’s …’ She took hold of her mother’s hand. ‘Mum … Mum, don’t go to sleep again.’
Alec was back almost at once with a doctor and a nurse. ‘Could I ask you to leave us, please?’ said the doctor, kindly, ‘We must act quickly. We’ll do what we can …’
Father and daughter stared at one another blankly as they left the room, then sat in the waiting room outside the main ward.
‘She’ll be alright, won’t she, Dad?’ said Janice fearfully. ‘She survived the operation, and she’s always had a strong heart.’
‘As far as we know,’ said Alec. ‘We must just wait … and hope.’
And pray, thought Janice to herself as she uttered silently, ‘Please God, let Mum be alright.’
The doctor returned some ten minutes later. They could tell from his sombre face that the news was not good. ‘Mr Butler … Miss Butler,’ he began. ‘I’m very sorry. We’ve done all we can, but I’m afraid we couldn’t save her. I’m so dreadfully sorry,’ he repeated as both Alec and Janice gave a gasp of shock and dismay. ‘It was a cardiac arrest; her heart just stopped beating. We tried to restart it, but it was no use.’
‘But my wife has never had a bad heart,’ said Alec, shaking his head.
‘It’s the shock of the operation,’ said the doctor. ‘There’s al
ways a risk with any operation, even with the strongest of patients. And the second operation on the brain, the strain was too much, but we had to try … Would you like to come and have a look at Lilian?’
They followed him silently back into the room. All the lines of stress and pain had gone from Lilian’s face. It was the first time that Janice had seen a dead person. She had preferred not to look at her grandma. Yes, she mused, that was her beloved mother … and yet it was not. Her spirit had departed and, with it, the vital spark that had made her the living and loving person that she had been. Janice gently touched her hand.
‘Goodbye, Mum,’ she whispered, trying to believe that her mother was at peace now, somewhere else, which was what she had been told, so many times, would happen after death.
Alec was in tears, the first time she had ever seen her father cry. They attended to the formalities then, dejectedly, took a taxi back home with Lilian’s few clothes and belongings in a carrier bag.
‘However are we going to tell Ian?’ asked Janice. Alec was calmer by the time they arrived home.
‘I’ll break it to him,’ he said. ‘You go and tell Phil and the girls. What about the hotel? You won’t feel like carrying on, will you?’
‘I’m too numb to think about anything at the moment,’ said Janice. ‘My mind still won’t take it all in.’
Phil, with Nancy and Olive, were still in the kitchen having cleared away and stacked the dishwasher. They had also set the tables ready for breakfast, as they sometimes did. Nancy and Olive would not go home until they had news about Lilian.
They were all shocked at the news. Janice’s tears started again as Phil put his arms around her. ‘Oh, my darling, I’m so very sorry. How dreadful, and so unexpected.’
One Week in August Page 24