by Mary Arden
Once all the witnesses had returned to their pews Duncan lent down and kissed me gently on the cheek and whispered, ‘Hello Mrs Ogilvie!’
We waited for Ian and Jane to make sure that Julie and Richard were in their right places and then after Ian had nodded to the organist and the familiar music of the Wedding March began, we then all walked slowly down the aisle and out of the church into the sunshine.
When everyone else came out of the church, I saw Uncle Arthur and Aunt Felicity talking to my parents. It seemed such a long time ago since I had seen them and I was so pleased that they had made the effort to come all the way from Gloucestershire. Aunt Felicity told me that she thought my veil was the most beautiful one she had ever seen and just as I was about to sing Aunt Beth’s praises, she joined us. The photographer then announced in a rather bossy voice that Duncan and I had to come with him to make the most of the sunlight, so we obeyed.
After the photographer was satisfied that he had got all the photographs he wanted, Duncan and I then climbed carefully into the back seat of the Rolls, which would take us back to my parent’s home for the reception. As I cuddled up to my new husband, he whispered ‘I love you,’ and lent his head against mine. As we drove home I realised that this was a major turning point in my life, and that nothing would ever be quite the same again.
No sooner were we back at my parent’s house, than Aunt Beth whisked me upstairs to re-arrange my veil and remove any crushed flowers and leaves. As she retouched my make-up, she told me that she had wept all the way through the service and would now need to re-do her own makeup too. As I made my way back downstairs I could see that Duncan was talking to our parents. I joined them and we all hugged and embraced each other before going through to the big room to meet the guests. After the formalities were over it was then time to enjoy the delicious food and wines that my father had provided for everybody.
Some of the wines were the ones that my father had brought back from our last holiday in France just before war was declared. The food consisted mainly of vol au vents, stuffed eggs, sausages on sticks and tiny sandwiches with the crusts cut off. There was nothing too fancy because of food rationing but it was all beautifully presented. The caterers were kept busy and I noticed that Agnes was making sure that the empty plates were removed or replenished quickly and that William was handing around plates of food, although I did notice that this did seem to involve the principle of ‘one for them and two for me’!
As my new husband and I wandered among our guests, it dawned on me that I was no longer alone and that from now on it would be the two of us facing the world together. I was the happiest I had ever known.
When Ian tapped a glass with his knife, the room fell silent and he announced that everybody should find a seat and make themselves comfortable, as the speeches were about to start and that the bride and groom would be cutting the cake shortly. The three-layered cake looked like a traditional wedding cake on the outside but I knew that the ingredients included radio malt, to make it sweet as there wasn’t enough sugar left, and chopped plum and apricot pieces had been used to replace the now unobtainable raisins and sultanas.
With Ian in charge of proceedings my father was the first to give a speech, which he kept short. However, when he mentioned that he wished his son Peter could be here, a roar of ‘Hear, Hear’ echoed around the room and I could see that both he and my mother were feeling sad despite the smiles on their faces.
When it was Ian’s turn to speak, Duncan whispered to me, ‘Oh dear, I hope he doesn’t embarrass me too much.’ I didn’t have to wait long to find out; Ian told some very funny stories about when he and Duncan were children and how surprised he was when it turned out that his cousin had such a passion for trees, as when he was a little boy he had got stuck up one and Ian had to rescue him. Duncan insisted that it was the other way around and the two cousins roared with laughter.
After the speeches I went upstairs to change into the pretty pink suit, and a coffee-coloured blouse and matching shoes and handbag. Just as I was admiring myself in the mirror Agnes knocked at my bedroom door and when she came in she gave me a small parcel. She said that she had noticed I hadn’t eaten very much at the reception because I had been too busy talking to everybody and so she had wrapped a large slice of wedding cake in greaseproof paper for me to have later. This was typical Aggie, always thinking of others. I thanked her and gave her a big hug.
When I went back downstairs I told Duncan that we should start saying goodbye to everyone, otherwise we would miss our train. I hugged and kissed all my family and then Duncan’s family, reminding them that we would be seeing each other again at the Scottish reception in Perth in a week’s time.
I hugged my parents and promised them that I would ring them, once we had arrived safely at our hotel. After we had finally said all our goodbyes, we got into the back of the wedding car and started to drive off. As we waved to everyone we could hear an awful clanging noise, which was made by a few empty tin cans that had been firmly tied on to the mudguard on the back of the car by William and the other ushers.
A short time later we were on the train and on our way to London. We were both so exhausted that we just sat quietly holding hands until we arrived at Waterloo. We then took a taxi to Kings Cross station, where we left our cases in the left luggage office ready to pick up later before heading up to Scotland. We then took another taxi to a rather glitzy restaurant that my cousin Marcus had organised for us as a special treat, called Chez Pierre. It looked more like a private house than a restaurant from the outside, and when we went to knock on the door, I was amused to see that the knocker was shaped like a big frog. I wondered if the owner, Pierre, knowing that the English referred to the French as frogs had bought it as a joke.
After we had eaten our delicious meal, we talked about how lovely our wedding had been and then suddenly we heard live music being played in the basement. Duncan took my hand and said, ‘Mrs Ogilvie will you do me the honour of having the next dance?’ He then led me down some stairs to a dimly lit dance room where a few couples were already slowly swaying around the room, so we joined them. He held me so close that I felt I was melting into his body.
‘Oh Mary,’ he whispered into my ear, ‘I have wanted to do this all day.’
When we left the restaurant, Duncan looked at his watch and suggested we walk for ten minutes to get some fresh air before taking a taxi to the station. We walked down the road arm in arm for a few minutes without a care in the world, and then suddenly an air raid siren screamed a warning. Everyone else in the street started running towards the nearest shelter, so we followed them and went down some stairs to find somewhere to sit.
A few minutes later we heard a loud bang and felt a shudder and then dust began to fall onto us, off the concrete ceiling. I was a little scared and held onto Duncan tightly. He pulled me close and told me not to be frightened. When the all clear sounded, everyone smiled at each other in relief. Duncan stood up and brushed the dust off his beautiful new uniform and said with a grin, ‘Well, I think it was more fun being covered with confetti this afternoon, don’t you darling?’
I was amazed at how calm my husband was and couldn’t help but smile. He glanced at his watch and then suggested that we find a taxi quickly, so that we wouldn’t miss our train.
As we drove to the station, I thought how brave these taxi drivers were, putting up with air raids day and night and carrying on their business as normal, usually with a cheery smile. They were mainly men who were either too old or physically unfit to serve in the armed forces and I really admired their courage and determination to keep London moving.
When we got to the station there was just enough time to pick up our luggage and find our sleeping berth before the train left for Scotland. When Duncan saw that our berth had only two bunks one on top of the other, his face fell as he had thought that by booking a double berth we would have a bed big enough for two.
‘But it’s our wedding night!’ Duncan exclaimed as
he talked to the attendant when he checked our tickets.
‘I am sorry, Sir, but you won’t find any Honeymoon suites in wartime!’ the attendant chuckled. He then warned us that we shouldn’t get completely undressed, just in case there was an air raid and we had to get off the train in a hurry. The look on Duncan’s face was a picture and I had to put a hand over my mouth to suppress a giggle.
When the attendant left, Duncan sighed and said, ‘Oh well, I suppose it wouldn’t be very romantic trying to make love to you the first time on a bunk in such a bumpy train with most of our clothes on, so perhaps it’s better to wait until we get to the hotel in Dunkeld.’ I thought so too, as I wanted the first time to be special, and preferably somewhere a little more comfortable.
We kissed each other for a few minutes and then I told Duncan that I was feeling really tired after such a big day and he said that he was too. As he took off his uniform, I suddenly felt very shy, so asked him if he would turn his back while I took off my pink suit. He smiled and did as I requested. I then went into the tiny cubicle in our sleeper, which had a lavatory and small washbasin, and when I came back out Duncan was standing there in his unbuttoned shirt and underpants. I looked down and saw that he still had his socks on, which made me snort with laughter.
‘What’s so funny?’ Duncan said grinning. ‘Haven’t you seen a man’s… socks before?’
I knew he was being naughty and that made me giggle even more. While he went to the cubicle to wash, I climbed onto the bottom bunk and got under the sheets. When Duncan reappeared he was wearing a pair of tartan undershorts and started to do a highland fling. I nearly fell out of the bunk, as I was laughing so much.
‘Where did you get those funny pants from?’ I asked.
‘They are a present from Ian and I will have you know that in certain parts of Scotland these are considered very sexy!’ Duncan grinned, as he knelt down and gave me a kiss. He then stood up and leapt onto the top bunk singing, ‘You take the low bunk and I’ll take the high bunk and I’ll be in Scotland before you!’
This was our first night as man and wife, but it obviously wasn’t going to be the romantic one that I had imagined or the passionate one that Duncan might have hoped for, but I was still very happy and loved this special man with all my heart.
When we arrived in Perth the following day, Duncan collected a suitcase full of civilian clothes and two fishing rods from his parent’s home, and then we got on the bus to Dunkeld. I sat next to the window, so that I could admire the glorious autumn colours and Duncan sat next to me holding my hand the whole way.
‘Well, Mrs Ogilvie, here we are, at last!’ Duncan said, as we arrived at our hotel. To my delight my husband had booked the honeymoon suite.
As soon as we got to our room, Duncan closed the door and started kissing me, but then there was a knock at the door. It was the housemaid bringing clean towels. Duncan sighed and I got the giggles. We waited until she left and then started to kiss again, more passionately this time, and then unbelievably there was another knock on the door.
‘I don’t believe it!’ Duncan said exasperated. He opened the door and suddenly started laughing and so did the man standing in the corridor who had brought our suitcases to the room for us. I had no idea what was going on, and then Duncan turned to me and said, ‘Mary, this is Sandy Macintosh. We have known each other for years.’
‘It’s an honour,’ Sandy said as he shook my hand with a huge smile. Then he continued, ‘Well Mr Duncan, I was hoping it was you but I didn’t think that it could be, as it was only yesterday that you were a gawky young student trying to learn the names of all the trees.’
Duncan laughed and asked him if he was still working for the Duke. Sandy then explained that he was only working part-time now, as there were no game shoots, so that was why he was also acting as part-time porter and barman at this hotel. Duncan said that they would have to catch up on one another’s news later, and then asked what time the bar opened. Sandy grinned and said he would open it at midday on the dot and the first drink would be on him. Duncan then told him that we had only been married for about twenty-four hours.
‘You must be desperate then!’ There was a moment’s silence and then Sandy bellowed with laughter at his double-entendre, and said, ‘For a dram I mean! I’d better open the bar straight away for you Mr Duncan.’
As our romantic moment had been interrupted twice, instead of resuming our passionate embrace we decided to unpack our cases instead. Duncan explained that while he was deciding whether to become a Forestry Officer, or a Lairds Factor, he had spent a whole summer learning the different jobs that would be involved for both and meeting all the Lairds who knew one another very well and were friends. He had also been advised to learn all the tricks of the trade from the best gamekeeper in Perthshire, and that was Sandy Macintosh.
I noticed that Sandy had called my husband Mr Duncan rather like Agnes called me Miss Mary, so wondered what the pecking order was for those who worked outside on the land and those who were servants in the houses, and whether one was grander than the other. But before I could ask, Duncan said that he was going to change into his kilt, until his leave was over. I changed into a skirt and blouse and then we went downstairs to have a drink with Sandy.
After lunch, Duncan suggested we go for a hearty walk and when we came upon a nice sunny spot, he put his jacket on the ground for me to sit on. He then sat down next to me and pulled me into his arms. We kissed gently and then lay back on the ground side by side staring up at the sun shining through the trees. It was almost like a summer’s day, which was unusual for Scotland in the autumn. Duncan’s hand started to explore under my skirt, which had now ridden up to reveal my suspenders, and if he hadn’t heard a dog barking to warn us that someone was approaching, I think he would have taken me on the spot, but instead, he laughed and said, ‘Madam, please cover your nether regions immediately. You are a wanton woman tempting a poor man by flashing your ‘unmentionables’ at him!’
As the dog owner walked past us, with a nod and a wave, we decided that we had better leave our continually interrupted nuptials until we were alone in our hotel room. Duncan then said that he needed to think about something else to take his mind off what he really wanted to do and started testing me on the names for different species of trees. It wasn’t very romantic but it did the trick, and after ten minutes of Duncan teaching me to recognize the various names of trees, flowers and any birds that we saw in Latin, any thought of what we might have got up to if we hadn’t been disturbed, were completely obliterated.
As we changed for dinner, I thought how handsome Duncan looked in his kilt and suddenly had the urge to kiss him very passionately to show him that I wanted him as much as he wanted me. After a few moments he pulled away and said, ‘Well if that was the entrée, I can’t wait for the main course!’
‘In that case, let’s go and see what’s for dinner then, shall we?’ I teased, knowing full well what he had meant.
We had roast pheasant with all the trimmings, which was delicious and a real treat. After dinner we had a quick nightcap at the bar with Sandy, who told Duncan that there was a ‘Do Not Disturb’ card in one of the drawers in the dressing table.
‘I suggest that you hang it on the handle outside your door before you go to bed and then there won’t be any Coitus Interruptus!’ Sandy said with a cheeky grin before saying goodnight. He obviously knew Latin too.
When we got to our room, I told Duncan that I wanted to have a hot bath before we went to bed.
‘I’d like one too, shall we share the bath?’ he asked grinning at me.
‘Yes, that’s a good idea, we should be careful not to waste the hot water,’ I said, not realising what he had in mind.
Duncan just chuckled to himself and sat in one of the chairs and pretended to read his newspaper, while I started to run the bath. I then added some bubble bath foam that I found on the shelf. While the bath was running, I went back into our room and found the piece of cord I use
d for hanging my washing on. I asked Duncan if he could work out how I could suspend it over the bath, so that my wet clothes could dry overnight. Duncan looked a bit surprised when he realised that I really did intend to wash my underclothes and hang them over the bath on our honeymoon. However, he soon regained his composure and said with a grin, ‘I will give it some serious thought later, when I am in the bath.’
When I went back into the bathroom to turn off the taps, Duncan called out for me to leave the bathroom door ajar a little, so that we could chat to each other. I then got undressed and climbed into the bath. It was lovely and hot and soon my body was completely hidden in a sea of bubbles. I started to relax completely but then felt a bit guilty enjoying all the hot water, so I washed myself as quickly as I could and then stood up to climb out of the bath. Just then, Duncan appeared in the doorway with his towel wrapped around his waist.
‘You look like Venus de Milo!’ he gasped.
‘I hope not, she hasn’t got any arms!’ I replied trying not to show that I was nervous and a little frightened of being naked in front of a man for the first time in my life. ‘I think you might mean Botticelli’s Venus!’
‘Yes that’s the one,’ Duncan said, obviously not really caring which Venus it was right now.
Without saying another word, he walked slowly towards me, gazing at my breasts and then he began to fondle them. When I looked down to see what he was doing, I noticed that something was moving under his towel. As the towel fell to the floor, I quickly looked away. He then he put one of his hands on my cheek, turned my face towards him, and kissed me so gently that I soon forgot my inhibitions and allowed him to kiss me all over my body. He must have stepped into the bath, while he was kissing me, as the next thing I remember was that we were both now sitting in the bath intertwined, as one.
This wonderful man had had to wait almost two years for this moment and now he could no longer control the desire that he felt welling up inside him. His hands now travelled all over my body kissing me wherever he desired, and as he did so he whispered loving words, which made me melt in his embrace. I was so overcome by this adoration that I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his head close to my breasts. My body began to tremble and Duncan must have thought that I was cold, so he then stood up and lifted me bodily out of the bath and wrapped me in a lovely warm towel. He then climbed into the bath and started to wash himself. It was then that I remembered that I had promised to send Jane a postcard to let her know if a man’s willy sank or floated in the bath. When I took a quick peak, I was delighted to see that my husband’s willy appeared to be happily floating amongst the bubbles.