by Rosie Harris
‘I’d sooner watch television,’ Hilda said. ‘When you have only yourself to please you can watch what you like when you like. You’ll end up watching football or golf when you would rather watch EastEnders or Holby City.’
Betty said nothing. She had been so right about their reactions, she thought.
‘Another cup of tea,’ she asked as both of her visitors seemed to be engrossed with their own thoughts.
‘Yes, we’d better make the most of it,’ Hilda said. ‘I don’t suppose you will be able to have us round here for a gossip once you’re Mrs Brown.’
‘I certainly won’t be able to invite you here anymore,’ Betty said as she refilled their cups. ‘We’re moving.’
‘Away from Clover Crescent?’ Sally exclaimed.
‘Away from the village?’ Hilda asked.
‘No.’ Betty found herself smiling at the look of shock in both their voices. ‘No, we’re moving to one of the flats in that new block that they’ve built just off the high street.’
‘The old people’s home,’ Hilda exclaimed, her mouth curling in disgust.
‘It’s not an old people’s home, it’s a block of fifty individual, privately owned flats and it’s for people over fifty-five.’
‘Same thing,’ Hilda retorted. ‘Boxes, all of them.’
‘Not at all,’ Betty told her. ‘They’re extremely modern, and practical, and extremely well equipped. The one we’ve picked has a balcony.’
‘Sounds ideal,’ Sally said before Hilda could come up with an adverse criticism.
‘It is, and there is a lovely courtyard garden where we can sit out whenever we want to do so and, when it isn’t warm enough to sit outside, there is the community room which is spacious and well furnished. Anyway,’ Betty added as she handed the biscuits around again, ‘you’ll both be able to judge for yourselves when we’ve moved in.’
‘Are all the family pleased?’ Sally asked.
Betty gave a little shrug. ‘Tim certainly is, he understands how impossible it is for Peter to keep the garden as he likes it to be. It’s all the bushes, hedges and trees,’ she explained looking towards Hilda. ‘I find I need help with the cleaning as well.’
‘You’ll still have to keep the place clean if you move into a flat,’ Hilda reminded her.
‘Yes, but not nearly so much work as it is only half the size. It’s got one bedroom, a large living room and dining room combined and a very small kitchen.’
‘Sounds very pokey for two people,’ Hilda sniffed.
‘It sounds ideal to me,’ Sally contradicted her.
No wonder I rarely see them both together, Betty thought wryly. They still bicker and fight the same as they did when we were all at school together.
Deciding it was time to break up the party, Betty said, ‘I’ll see if Peter is awake. He was going to have an afternoon’s sleep.’
She went to the bottom of the stairs and called out his name.
‘Coming,’ he called back. ‘Be right with you.’
By the time Peter came down, Hilda was ready to leave. ‘Hello Peter, I’ve heard the news,’ she said bluntly. ‘Got yourself a good catch.’
‘I have indeed,’ he smiled, reaching out and taking Betty’s hand.
‘Well, let’s hope it turns out well, seems to be madness to me at your age. Anyway, I must go,’ she commented, picking up her handbag.
Betty walked with her to the front door and watched as Hilda scurried off down the road. She was shaking her head from side to side as if disapproving of the news she’d just heard.
Peter and Sally were laughing and talking quite happily, so Betty went out to the kitchen and made a fresh pot of tea and brought in a clean cup and saucer for Peter.
The moment Sally had finished her tea she said she must be leaving. Once again, she congratulated them and said that she thought it was wonderful news.
‘Keep me up to date on progress,’ she said with a warm smile as she said goodbye. ‘I think you’ll both be very happy so don’t listen to what anyone says. You both know in your hearts that you are doing the right thing.’
Twenty-Five
For the next few weeks Betty had so many other things occupying her time and thoughts that she had no time to worry about the family’s reaction to the news of her getting married.
Tim was handling the sale of Peter’s house and he was anxious to get the viewings under way while the summer weather still held and the garden was a picture.
‘It all helps to sell the place,’ he told them. ‘I’m sorry about the upset, but it is the only way. I will come myself with any prospective clients and show them around. You won’t have to do anything except keep the place tidy and I will always telephone you in advance to let you know when I am bringing somebody around.’
It all sounded so pleasant and so easy, but both Betty and Peter found it excruciatingly difficult to keep silent when people were commenting about their home and garden in a disparaging manner. Some of the comments about how old and shabby the place was hit them hard. It also made them look at their home with fresh eyes.
‘I suppose we could replace the three-piece suite,’ Peter said. ‘It is beginning to look shabby. My armchair is almost threadbare on the arms.’
‘But you find it comfortable,’ Betty said thoughtfully.
‘I know,’ Peter agreed, ‘but remember; we are moving to a modern flat and this is rather too big for that living room. Perhaps we should sell it and get two matching armchairs.’
Betty nodded. ‘If we are going to do that then I’d like one of those chairs that recline and have a footstool that pops up whenever you want to use it.’
When they tried to sell the suite, however, they found no second-hand shop would take it because it was so old that it did not have a fire certificate and was considered a fire risk. ‘Without a certificate it is against the law to sell it,’ they were told.
‘Perhaps we can give it away, to some charity organization,’ Betty suggested.
‘Not unless it has a fire certificate,’ they were told again.
‘So what do we do with it?’ Peter pondered. ‘We can’t sell it, we can’t give it away.’
‘Get the council to come and take it away,’ Tim advised.
‘What will they do with it?’
Tim shrugged. ‘I don’t know, burn it probably. It’s old, shabby and dangerous; what else can they do with it?’
Betty didn’t know, but to her it seemed a dreadful shame. She was sure that some needy family would be glad to have it.
The dining-room suite came to much the same fate.
The table was far too big for the flat they were moving into and the matching dining chairs had padded seats and backs which rendered them unsuitable for resale.
‘Never mind, we’ll buy either a small round table or a drop leaf one and that will give us more room in the new flat,’ Peter promised.
‘It looks as though we are going to move in there with all new furniture,’ Betty commented.
‘Not such a bad thing,’ Peter smiled. ‘A new start for us in every way.’
Even though she quite looked forward to the prospect of buying new, it still irked Betty when she heard people criticizing items in their home as they walked around the place.
‘Take no notice,’ Tim told her. ‘Very often they are only doing it because they think it will help to make you agree to a lower price than what you are asking.’
‘I don’t understand that,’ Betty argued. ‘It’s the house they are buying not what’s in it.’
‘Leave it all to me,’ Tim told her. ‘Why don’t you go out when you know I am bringing people around then you won’t hear their comments.’
He said the same to Peter, who was mortified when they made detrimental remarks about the garden he had lavished so much care and attention on.
‘I think the sooner we buy the new furniture we need for the flat and move there the better it will be.’
‘Yes, it’s silly to get upset about
what other people think,’ Peter agreed.
With Tim’s help, they found this was possible. ‘Have it decorated throughout before you move in,’ he advised. ‘It is not only easier for the men to work in an empty place, but it means that you won’t need to have it done again for a few more years, perhaps even longer.’
He also suggested that they had new carpets and curtains; ones which would be more to their choice than those the previous owner had chosen.
When all the work was finished it looked so bright and clean that Betty fell in love with it all over again. They had already ordered their new furniture and a week later it was delivered so they made the move.
Betty had known that it was going to be smaller but the difference was greater than she had imagined. She’d been used to plenty of cupboards, especially in the bedrooms, now she found storage space very restricted.
There was only one thing for it, she decided, and that was to be ruthless with her own wardrobe. She knew she was a hoarder, but now she went through all the clothes she possessed and divided them into two piles; those she wanted to keep and the ones she was prepared to take along to the charity shop.
Once again, Betty was shocked to find that even the charity shop turned down most of them as being too old and too old-fashioned.
‘Unless you want them to go for storage the only thing I can suggest is that you put them in the Salvation Army box. There’s one in the park. I won’t guarantee that they will be able to use them but at least you will have tried to find them a home.’
When she told Peter, he hugged her and told her not to worry, and said that perhaps she should throw them all out and go and buy some new clothes.
‘The way we’re carrying on I don’t think we can afford to do that,’ she said grimly.
‘Oh, I don’t know, according to your Tim we will be able to pay for all the changes we’ve made and have a nice little nest egg left over once the house deal is completed.’
‘I’ll believe that when the money is in the bank,’ Betty stated. ‘We’ve still got to buy those special flower pots for the balcony and the plants to put in them.’
‘That’s already done,’ he told her.
‘When? You mean you bought the pots without letting me see them first?’
‘I had to! Tim said that our buyer was about to sign and that once he put pen to paper then everything in the garden was his and I couldn’t touch it. I wanted to take some of my favourite plants, ones I knew would thrive in pots, so with Tim’s help I got hold of the pots, planted them up and they’re safe and sound in Tim’s garden until I can move them to the flat.’
‘Behind my back,’ Betty repeated, but she was smiling and so was Peter.
‘You were too busy sorting out your clothes and stuff to be interested in anything to do with the garden,’ he smiled.
Although the new carpets and curtains were now in place and also the two new armchairs and dining room pieces, the day of their move was still one of upheaval.
Finding things in the kitchen was the worst. Although Betty had labelled the boxes with which room they were to go in, she hadn’t put on labels stating what was in each box.
‘Never mind, as long as we can find the kettle and a couple of cups or mugs, we’ll manage,’ Peter told her as the removal men left.
‘Let’s do that first; find them, make a brew, and sit in our new armchairs and weigh up what has to be done.’
As they drank their first cup of tea in their new home, Betty felt a glow of satisfaction. Her new armchair was lovely and comfortable, the flat looked clean and sparkling, and the sun was pouring in through the open French doors and shining on the colourful display of flowers in the pots on the balcony.
‘Happy?’ she asked, looking across at Peer.
‘Extremely!’ he said, raising his cup of tea in salute.
‘Only one hurdle remains and then everything will be perfect,’ Betty smiled.
Peter looked puzzled. ‘What’s that?’ he asked.
‘The wedding.’
‘Aah, I’d forgotten about that. If it’s bothering you then let’s forget about it,’ he suggested. ‘I’m quite happy as we are.’
‘Living in sin!’ Betty tried to look shocked, but she didn’t manage it for very long.
‘I don’t think folks think about it like that these days,’ Peter observed. ‘Look, if you’re worried about all the to-do and fuss then don’t let’s bother, or else let’s just go off quietly on our own and get the deed done.’
‘Too late for that now. We’ve set a date and told all my family when it is. They all assume that they’ve been invited.’
‘Even those who don’t approve!’ Peter said, the smile on his face softening the scorn in his voice.
‘Yes, even them. What I thought was we could book a room at a restaurant or hotel for the meal afterwards. One big table. After all, there will only be nine of us, including little Anna, that’s if they let her take the day off from school, and Sally Bishop.’
‘Sounds a good idea. What about your friend Hilda, aren’t you asking her?’
Betty took a deep breath. ‘I suppose I ought to do so but I think she may be jealous when she finds that I have asked Sally to be one of the witnesses. Sally and Tim, you only need two witnesses,’ she added by way of explanation when Peter gave a puzzled frown.
‘You seem to have it all wrapped up and it looks as though there’s nothing you want me to do,’ he commented.
‘Not at the moment there isn’t, but I do expect you to arrange a car to get me there and to bring us back home afterwards from the restaurant.’
‘Don’t worry I’ll attend to that,’ Peter promised. ‘I’d better cheek first that your Tim hasn’t got that all in hand. He’s pretty hot on organizing things. Takes after his mother,’ he added with a chuckle.
‘There’s one other thing,’ Betty told him. ‘You need to get a haircut, I want you looking spruce.’
Peter groaned. ‘Must I? Does that mean I am going to have to wear a suit?’
‘Of course it does, and a collar and tie and a buttonhole,’ she told him with mock severity.
She studied him, he looked so happy and relaxed in his comfortable cardigan and open-necked shirt. So relaxed that even his wrinkles seemed to have vanished.
‘I suppose you will be all dolled up in a new outfit,’ he stated and his blue eyes seemed to be clearer and brighter than ever as they met hers.
‘You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you,’ she said teasingly and was rewarded by a warm smile.
Peter sat deep in thought finishing his tea, then he said, ‘What about afterwards? We can hardly call it a honeymoon, not at our age, but do you want us to go away somewhere on holiday?’
Betty looked round their comfortable sitting room and settled back in her new armchair. ‘I don’t think so. It’s so lovely here that I don’t want to go anywhere else. All I want to do is come straight back here and get on with our new life. What about you?’
Peter put down his cup, stretched out his hand and took hers. ‘This is perfect for me, too,’ he murmured contentedly as he squeezed her hand.
Twenty-Six
The actual ceremony was very short and formal. Tim gave his mother away, and the rest of the formalities were completed in next to no time. Tim and Sally Bishop signed as witnesses.
Betty could hardly believe that she was now Mrs Brown as she and Peter drove to the restaurant to preside over the meal to celebrate the fact with the rest of her family.
The meal was excellent. As she looked round, Betty felt proud at how well turned out they all appeared to be. The men were all in smart suits, white shirts, ties and sporting buttonholes. The women all wore smart summer dresses and striking hats or pretty fascinators. Even little Anna had a concoction of flowers entwined around a hairband that looked very pretty with her pale pink floral dress.
Betty herself was wearing a pale lilac dress, teamed with a light jacket in a deeper shade of lilac and a wide-brimmed straw h
at in two shades of lilac.
Brenda looked so glamorous in her white dress and hat that when they had entered the restaurant the manager who came forward to greet them had mistakenly thought that she was the bride and escorted her to the top of the table.
He had apologized profusely to Betty when he discovered his mistake, but Betty only smiled and told him not to worry. She was feeling far too happy to let something as trivial as that spoil her special day.
Although Brenda had given in gracefully, and moved from the prominent position at the head of the table, she continued to organize the meal as if she really was the one in charge.
Betty could see that it was annoying Tim so nudged Peter and whispered, ‘Take over before she upsets everyone.’
He tried valiantly to do so but Brenda was having none of it. She was enjoying herself, issuing orders to the waitress, saying what wines they would have, and generally taking charge.
Tim eventually intervened. He ordered champagne and at the end of the meal he asked who would prefer port to a liqueur, completely ignoring his wife’s attempted intervention.
He even quietly murmured to his sister, ‘Mary, I think you have had enough to drink,’ when he saw her motion to the wine waiter to refill her glass for the fourth time. Mary’s eyes were shining, her face was flushed and she was chattering so loudly that no one else could be heard. Betty was glad that they had a private room. She was sure Mary had drunk far too much and she suspected she wasn’t used to drinking so much wine.
It was good to see her so happy and relaxed but Betty could see, just as Tim could, that one more glass of champagne would send her right over the top.
Betty had also become very aware that her grandson, Graham, and his wife, Shirley, were highly amused by what was going on, which was another reason not to let Mary become too inebriated.
The family were very surprised when they learned that Betty and Peter were not going away afterwards, but returning to their new flat.
‘We love it there,’ Betty told them, ‘so why go away and stay at a hotel.’
‘Celebrating! Change of scenery. You’ve got the rest of your life to live there so take the opportunity to have a super holiday.’