Jane, immaculate in her uniform, dashed past him with a smile. ‘I’m going to collect Oscar. We’ll see you at the town hall.’
Charlotte was equally impressive. The WAAF uniform suited both women but he’d thought Nancy had looked the smartest of the three when she’d worn hers, despite being half a head shorter than the other two.
‘Can I use your bedroom to change?’
‘Your suit’s hanging in the wardrobe. I had the devil of a job nipping it upstairs without Nancy seeing. She’ll be impressed – it’s a splendid suit.’
‘Unfortunately, it no longer fits me as it used to. I just realised why Nancy looked amazing in her uniform. She must have tailored it to fit.’
Charlotte laughed. ‘Hardly tactful, Doctor Denny, but you’re absolutely right. I know Nancy really misses not having the use of a sewing machine.’
‘I’ve more chance of finding one in London than she has down here. Is Jenny capable of looking after three children whilst we’re away?’
‘Nancy’s feeding Lottie now and then she’ll sleep for at least three hours afterwards. More than enough time to get back.’
He could hear Nancy singing to the baby and he was tempted to join in. It was the kind of day that demanded everybody sang. There was a piano at the far end of the sitting room – probably hideously out of tune – but he’d try it out after lunch.
She was still in the bedroom when he went past. He’d wait for her in the hall. He had the licence and the wedding ring in his pocket. He’d already put the engagement ring he’d bought for her months ago on her finger.
Charlotte joined him. ‘You look quite spiffing – nobody would notice the fit’s not as good as it might be. Jane’s just wheeling the pram round to Jenny.’
‘Where does she think we’re going dressed up to the nines?’
‘I don’t think Nancy’s told her anything in particular. She’s under the impression that you’re the missing husband returned to the fold and nobody has contradicted that.’
There was a slight noise on the landing above and he turned. His future wife wasn’t wearing a long white dress and veil but she looked as beautiful as any other bride.
Her hair was swept up on top of her head, and a pretty little hat, which exactly matched her frock, was perched on top. She was wearing a hint of lipstick and rouge, which just made her look even more beautiful.
‘That’s a stunning frock, darling. That colour’s perfect on you.’
Her smile was radiant as she ran lightly down the stairs to join him. She reached up and smoothed the lapels of his very expensive suit. ‘You don’t look too bad yourself, love.’ She held out her hands. ‘See, I’m even wearing gloves. I feel ever so grand.’
‘And you look perfect. Shall we go? We’re definitely not going to miss our slot this time.’
They strolled through the town and attracted more attention than he was happy with. She sensed his disquiet.
‘Jane says there’s a back door we can use so nobody will see us go in and out. Don’t want to spoil the pretence, do we?’
Jane and Oscar greeted him warmly and they were whisked straight through and didn’t have to hang about in the vestibule at all.
The ceremony was brief, but similar to the one used in church that he’d recited before, just without all the hymns, prayers and homilies. Half an hour later the five of them escaped through the back door and fifteen minutes later he locked the front gate behind them.
He swung his wife from her feet and kissed her thoroughly. ‘This is the happiest day of my life and I hope it’s yours too. We’ve wasted almost six months and if it wasn’t for your friends this might never have happened.’ Her hat was over one eye and he unpinned it and threw it into the flower border.
‘You shouldn’t have done that; it took me ages to make.’
‘Ridiculous thing, you’re not a hat kind of woman and I don’t want you to wear anything or do anything that you’re not comfortable with.’
She tried to look cross but just looked even more adorable. ‘What kind of woman am I, then?’
‘Exactly the kind of woman I want for my wife, for the mother of my children and to be my closest and dearest friend.’
‘Go on with you, you big soft thing. I married you for your money and because I like having sex with you.’
She ran ahead of him laughing, looking more fifteen than twenty-two. He caught up with her and snatched her into the air before she could step over the doorstep. ‘It’s traditional, Mrs Denny, for the wife to be carried over the threshold by her husband.’
‘It’s a good thing I’m not a big fat lump any more.’
He was reluctant to let her go but had no option as the children burst out of the sitting room and Lottie began to wail. The women took over and he and Oscar were shooed outside until lunch was ready. Billy and Betty insisted on accompanying them and showing him every nook and cranny they’d discovered in the wild garden.
The two old men busy at the far end stopped what they were doing and leaned on their spades, staring at him with interest. Oscar raised an eyebrow and grinned, obviously amused at the situation and wondering what explanation he was going to give.
Billy rushed up to the more grizzled of the two. ‘Sid, this is our daddy and he’s come back to live with us again.’
‘I’m pleased to meet you both and want to thank you for doing such a splendid job with the garden. Whatever my wife’s paying you it’s probably not enough.’
‘Mrs Smith ain’t paying us anything. We’re going to keep a couple of porkers and a dozen chickens in them sheds on the bit of rough ground behind.’
‘It’s Mrs Denny, not Mrs Smith, by the way. I’d like to make the arrangement official. I don’t have time to spend in the garden unfortunately and I’d like there to be sufficient vegetables grown to feed the family. I’d also like there to be sufficient eggs for them as well.’
‘Fair enough, sir. As you ain’t going to be living here all the time we’ll sort out what’s what with your missus. You got a lovely family. Pity you weren’t here when the baby was born, but better late than never, I reckon.’
They completed the circuit of the half acre and were on the way back to the house when Jenny came out to call the children in to wash their faces and hands before lunch. They scampered off, leaving him to complete the walk with Oscar for company.
‘What a complicated life you’re living, but it seems to suit all of you. I just hope it doesn’t all come unstuck one day when the truth comes out,’ Oscar said.
‘By the time that happens it really won’t matter. I thought I looked knackered but you look as though you haven’t slept for a month.’
‘Things have been a lot easier since the nightly bombing stopped. We lost so many men and kites during the Blitz.’
‘Thousands of civilians have been killed and injured and made homeless. They didn’t sign up for this – you Brylcreem boys did.’
‘True enough. We’ve held Hitler off but we’re not winning. To tell you the truth, I don’t think we will win unless the Yanks get their finger out and become our allies.’
Jane appeared at the French windows that led into the sitting room. ‘Absolutely no gloomy talk today, darling. Lunch is on the table and it smells quite delicious.’ She smiled at David as he walked past. ‘Nancy might be small but she’s an absolute dynamo. She can cook, sew and is also an excellent mother – I might be good at what I do but I doubt I’ll ever be able to compete with her on the domestic front.’
*
He wanted to make a toast to his beautiful bride but obviously couldn’t as the children and Jenny were present. Instead he raised his glass and said what was in his heart.
‘I love you, Nancy, and I’ll not let you down again. I give you my word that you’ll never regret being my wife.’
The years ahead were going to be tough, but they’d face whatever fate threw at them together. He looked around the table knowing he was the luckiest man alive. Finally, he’d got the ri
ght wife and the family he’d always dreamed of.
Acknowledgements
I wish to thank everyone who has helped this book to be the best it can be. My brilliant editor, Hannah Smith, and copy-editor Helena Newton require a special mention.
Bibliography for Girls in Blue series.
Hornchurch Scramble, Richard C. Smith
Chronicle of the Second World War, J & L
One Woman’s War, Eileen Younghusband
The Stepney Doorstep Society, Kate Thompson
We All Wore Blue, Muriel Gane Pushman
The Secret Listeners, Sinclair MKay
Sand in My Shoes, Joan Rice
Christmas On the Home Front, Miles Brown
A to Z Atlas and Guide to London, (1939 edition)
Oxford Dictionary of Slang, John Ayto
Wartime Britain, Juliet Gardiner
How We Lived Then, Norman Longmate
The Wartime Scrapbook, Robert Opie
RAF Airfields of World War II, Jonathan Falconer
The Day of the Typhoon, John Golley
About the Author
FENELLA J. MILLER was born in the Isle of Man. Her father was a Yorkshireman and her mother the daughter of a Rajah. She has worked as a nanny, cleaner, field worker, hotelier, chef, secondary and primary schoolteacher and is now a full-time writer.
She has over seventy Regency romantic adventures published plus four Jane Austen variations, four Victorian sagas and nine WW2 family sagas. She lives in a small village in Essex with her British Shorthair cat. She has two adult children and three grandchildren.
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The East End Girl in Blue Page 29