Sealed With a Loving Kiss

by Ellie Dean

  Peggy didn’t know what to say, for she was overwhelmed not only by their generosity, but by their genuine warmth.

  Evelyn’s eyes were suspiciously bright too, and she squeezed Peggy’s hand in tacit understanding before she turned to Anthony. ‘Be a dear and open one of those bottles of champagne while Peggy shows me the cake. It’s time to celebrate and I’ve worked up quite a thirst on that awful journey down from London.’

  As the girls crowded into the kitchen with Cordelia and Doris, Peggy went to the larder and opened the door. The cake had now been iced and decorated with the little figures, and the blue ribbon was tied round it so the bells hung just so. She was very proud of it and just hoped that the sophisticated Evelyn wouldn’t think it too amateurish.

  ‘Oh, Peggy, it’s quite magnificent,’ breathed Evelyn. ‘You are clever.’

  Peggy blushed and closed the larder door as the champagne cork popped very satisfactorily and the mismatched glasses were filled with the frothing golden liquid. There was still no sign of Julian or Ron, and Peggy hoped fervently that they hadn’t already lost the fleeing ferrets and were trying to find them before anyone noticed.

  Anthony pushed his glasses up his nose, went rather red in the face, and then put his arm round Suzy’s narrow waist as the glasses were raised in a toast to the happy couple. After that, all of Peggy’s careful plans for a structured evening went out of the window.

  Julian came up from the cellar, the ferrets in his arms. ‘Look, Evelyn,’ he said with a beaming smile. ‘This is Flora, and this is Dora. Aren’t they marvellous?’

  Before she could reply, the ferrets wriggled and squirmed, bit his finger and made a bid for escape.

  Jane quickly slammed the kitchen door before they could get in the hall – Ron shut the door to the cellar – Peggy made a grab for Dora and missed – and Anthony narrowly escaped getting entangled in Flora as she shot like a bullet between his feet and joined Dora beneath the large kitchen dresser.

  Harvey thought this was all great fun and tried to squeeze into the narrow gap, thereby making the heavy dresser rock so alarmingly that everything fell off the shelves.

  Everyone had their opinion about how to get the ferrets out, and Peggy could barely speak for embarrassment and fury. As Ted and Anthony held the cupboard steady, and Harvey barked in excitement, Julian and Ron got down on the floor and reached beneath it.

  ‘I’ve got one,’ shouted Julian as he slid his arm back and raised a screeching, furiously wriggling Dora in triumph.

  ‘So have I,’ said Ron with equal jubilance. He glanced warily at Peggy. ‘We’d better lock them away, I’m thinking. The look on Peggy’s face doesn’t bode well.’

  Peggy was mortified, for Julian’s beautiful suit was now covered in dust, fluff and dog hairs from when he’d been crawling on her kitchen floor, and his bitten finger was bleeding profusely. The whole evening was turning into a disaster.

  ‘No harm done,’ said Evelyn as she handed her a glass of champagne. ‘I must say, you’d never get such good entertainment in a stuffy hotel.’

  ‘But Julian’s suit,’ stammered Peggy.

  Evelyn shrugged. ‘It’ll all brush off – and it’s his own fault he got bitten. He shouldn’t have brought the ferrets up here in the first place.’

  ‘Well, it’s clear this house hasn’t been cleaned properly,’ interjected Doris, who was fighting off Harvey’s nose which had gone up her skirt. ‘I think it’s disgusting having such unwholesome creatures in the house. It’s bad enough having to put up with this revolting dog.’ She gave Harvey’s nose a sharp slap, which made him yelp.

  Evelyn regarded her coolly as Harvey whimpered and came to her for sympathy. ‘Really? Well, I think it’s marvellous to have pets in the house. And this fine dog looks clean and very healthy to me.’ She gave Harvey a pat and a salted biscuit to assuage his hurt feelings. ‘As for fretting over a bit of dust under cupboards, I think it shows signs of a wasted life, don’t you, Peggy?’

  Doris bristled and went puce, and Peggy defused the situation by raising her glass. ‘Cheers,’ she said to no one in particular, and took a large, restorative drink.

  As Ted rounded up Doris and everyone chattered and drank their champagne, Peggy thought woefully about how the evening should have gone. She had rather hoped Fran would play for them, but she’d left on some secret mission shortly before the fracas with the ferrets, carrying the violin case, which, thankfully, Doris hadn’t spotted. Drinks were supposed to be taken in the dining room and then she’d planned that they would all sit down for supper at seven-thirty – posh people didn’t eat until late, she knew that much. It was now nearly eight, she noticed in despair, yet no one seemed at all inclined to leave the kitchen.

  She looked round at the gathering. Cordelia sat in queenly splendour by the fire, getting ever more flushed and giggly with each sip of champagne as Ted mildly flirted with her. Ron and Julian had returned from locking away the ferrets and were now making a ham-fisted effort to clean the wound on Julian’s finger and stick a plaster on it. His Savile Row suit was still covered in dust and dog hair, and there were spots of blood on his once pristine shirt cuff – yet to Peggy’s amazement, he seemed totally unfazed by everything.

  Harvey rushed about trying to encourage people to give him more of the lovely little salted biscuits Evelyn had brought, and Doris sat rather primly on the hard kitchen chair, eyeing up Evelyn’s silk suit, dainty shoes and triple string of pearls, clearly adding up the cost of such splendour and wondering if she had anything in her vast wardrobe that might outshine them.

  The party carried on in the kitchen for almost another hour before they trooped into the dining room to eat cold baked ham, dried-up jacket potatoes and a winter salad fresh from Ron’s garden. Fran had finally returned, and after disappearing upstairs with the violin case, had happily joined in the rather boisterous celebrations.

  The conversations ebbed and flowed as they sat at the table long after the meal was over, and there was a great deal of laughter at Ron’s outrageous stories which were enthusiastically matched by Julian’s own.

  As the clock struck eleven, Ted and Julian loaded the cases of champagne, the ham and the salmon into the back of Ted’s car. Having rounded up Doris, he said goodnight and thanked everyone for a wonderful evening, while Anthony drew Suzy into his arms for a lingering farewell kiss.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he murmured into her shining fair hair. ‘Please don’t be too late, or I’ll start to panic that you’ve changed your mind.’

  ‘As if I would,’ she replied fondly before she kissed him again and then shooed him off the doorstep. She stood there until they’d driven out of sight, then went back indoors to help Peggy clear the mess in the dining room.

  The table was cleared and everyone helped – or, in Ron and Harvey’s case, hindered – with the washing-up and tidying away. Then it was time for a glass of Julian’s brandy to round off the evening before they all went to bed.

  As the house finally fell silent, Peggy lay listening to Daisy’s soft breathing and smiled. There had been no need to worry that Suzy’s parents would look down their noses – and she should have known that after having had the girl living here for so many years. As Jim would say, she was a worry-wart, and should learn to trust her instincts.

  Doris, of course, had put on airs and graces all evening, her strangled vowels making it almost impossible to understand her lengthy descriptions of the important role she and her closest friend, Lady Chumley, played in Cliffehaven society. Thankfully Evelyn and James had true class and didn’t turn a hair, but then Suzy had warned them of how she could be.

  Peggy turned over in the large, empty bed and, in the soft candle-glow of the nightlight, could just make out the clothes she’d hung on the wardrobe door for tomorrow. Her one-time London evacuee, Sally, had spent days making the beautiful ice-blue silk suit from one of Doris’s cast-offs, and Peggy had managed to track down just the right colour to dye the satin shoes she’d found
at the WVS used-clothing store.

  The old, rather battered blue straw hat had been freshened with a good dollop of starch, a ribbon of silk from the same material as the suit and three rather jaunty pheasant feathers which Ron had brought back from one of his poaching forays up in the hills. She’d known they’d come in use one day.

  Peggy smiled again as her eyelids fluttered and sleep beckoned. She hadn’t missed her sister’s envious glances at Evelyn’s outfit, and she wondered just how far Doris was prepared to go to try and outdo it tomorrow.

  Chapter Five

  MARY HAD BEEN asleep by the time Ivy returned from her night out, and as the alarm clock shrilled, and Ivy carried on snoring, she realised she’d have to wake her. She gently shook her shoulder. ‘Come on, Ivy, or you’ll be late for work.’

  Ivy burrowed further beneath the covers. ‘Gerroff. I don’t wanna go to work.’

  Mary had heard this protest every morning and knew that Ivy would soon wake up properly and be as chipper and bright as always, so she pulled back the blackout and chintz curtains and the sun poured in. Ignoring her friend’s deep groan of annoyance, she lifted the nets and opened the window to let the crisp, fresh air of a winter’s morning flood into the stuffy room.

  Leaning on the windowsill, she admired the sparkle of the sun on the silky water and the way the seagulls so effortlessly swooped and hovered over the beach. The sky was a pale blue and everything looked dewy fresh after the rain in the night. It was the perfect day for a wedding.

  Ivy staggered out of bed, grumbling as she picked up her wash things. ‘It’s all right for some,’ she muttered as she hauled on her dressing gown and peered at her reflection in the dressing-table mirror. She grimaced and hurriedly turned away. ‘I gotta splitting headache,’ she moaned. ‘Can’t you ring the factory and tell ’em I’m sick?’

  Mary giggled. ‘You have a headache every morning, Ivy. Go and get washed and dressed. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.’

  Ivy returned only a moment later, clearly still not in the best of moods. ‘Someone’s in there, so it’ll be a lick and a promise in the cloakroom sink this morning,’ she said grumpily. She dragged on her clothes, tied the laces on her boots and tried to brush the tangles out of her curly hair. Giving up on this task, she wrapped the headscarf over it and tied it firmly above her forehead. ‘That’ll have t’do,’ she sighed.

  While all this was going on, Mary quickly dressed in slacks and a sweater, mindful that both Anthony and Ted were in the other bedroom, so it wouldn’t be appropriate to wander about in her dressing gown. Doris obviously hadn’t forgiven her husband enough to let him share her bed, and Mary had heard the two men talking and laughing quietly together through the wall, and had come to the conclusion that Ted hadn’t objected to this arrangement at all.

  The bathroom was still engaged, so she and Ivy took their toothbrushes, towels and flannels down to the hall cloakroom. Once Ivy was ready, she pulled on her coat and reached for her gas-mask box. ‘I’ll have me breakfast in the canteen,’ she said. ‘Me ’ead’s in too bad a state to put up with an over-excited Doris this morning.’

  ‘Thanks for your support, today of all days,’ retorted Mary.

  ‘Aw, yer know I don’t mean ter drop yer in it, mate, but you’ll be fine.’ Ivy shot her a cheeky, dimpled grin as she slung the strap of the gas-mask box over her shoulder. ‘Enjoy the wedding and keep some of that fancy food for me.’ Before Mary could respond, she’d closed the front door behind her with a bang.

  Mary quickly went into the kitchen to heat up the large pot of porridge that had been left on the stove. It would probably be wise to have her breakfast and then disappear as well. The thought of Doris having hysterics and causing a huge fuss wasn’t her idea of a fun-filled morning either.

  As she ate the porridge and toast she could hear movement upstairs and the sound of men’s voices. Finishing off the last of her breakfast, she washed the dishes and went into the hall to collect her coat, bag and gas-mask box.

  ‘Good morning, Mary,’ said Edward cheerfully as he came down the stairs in twill slacks, shirt and sweater, followed closely by Anthony, who was similarly attired but looked terribly pale.

  Mary smiled at them. ‘It looks as if someone needs a good breakfast inside them to fight off the collywobbles.’

  ‘I doubt I could keep anything down,’ said Anthony as his glasses slipped along his nose. ‘I do hope I’m not ailing with something.’

  ‘It’s just last-minute nerves, and they’ll disappear the moment you see your beautiful bride coming down the aisle,’ said Mary, who’d heard her father say this umpteen times to nervous, sickly grooms. ‘Now, I’m going out for a walk so you can get ready for the day. I’ll be back about half-eleven to get changed, because it’s a bit of a walk to the church and I have to be there by one-thirty in case there are early arrivals.’

  ‘I’ll give you a lift,’ said Edward. ‘There’ll be plenty of time to get you there before I have to take Doris, Robert and Anthony.’

  ‘We can’t possibly spare the car,’ said Doris bossily from the top of the stairs. ‘I have to be at the hairdresser’s at eleven, and then I have an appointment for a manicure – and I wanted to have a quick look in Plummer Roddis to see if they’ve got in their new stock of hats.’

  ‘Then I’ll drop you off first,’ Ted replied placidly. ‘Once you’re ready to come home you can give me a ring and I’ll fetch you.’

  ‘But I have to be back here in time to instruct the girls I’ve hired to do the waitressing,’ she protested. ‘Really, Edward, it’s all very inconvenient.’

  ‘I’m perfectly capable of giving instructions to waitresses,’ said Edward, ‘and why do you need to look at hats when you have dozens of the things upstairs?’

  ‘You’re a man. You wouldn’t understand,’ she said dismissively. ‘As for the girls, I have specific instructions which you’re bound to either get muddled or forget entirely.’

  Mary could see this might go on for a while, so she pulled on her coat. ‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said to him. ‘I can easily walk. Goodness knows, I’ve done it enough times.’

  Doris sniffed, and having decided she’d won the tussle, disappeared into the bathroom.

  ‘I really don’t see why you should walk,’ said Edward. ‘After all, you’re as much a part of this wedding as the rest of us. I’ll make sure the car is available, don’t you worry.’

  ‘I don’t want to cause trouble,’ she said fretfully.

  He smiled his gentle smile. ‘Let me deal with Doris. Just be ready in time for me to take you to the church before the fun really starts. Now go and enjoy your walk, and I’ll see you at lunchtime.’

  Mary enjoyed her walk. She spent some time on the seafront, managed to get a cup of very nice coffee in the tiny tearoom at the end of the promenade, and found a lovely bar of Pears soap as a gift for Doris, who had yet to learn that Fran had borrowed her violin.

  Returning to Havelock Road, she found Anthony and Edward in their shirtsleeves, studiously polishing a car that was so like her father’s she had to swallow the sudden wave of grief. Avoiding the kerfuffle in the drawing room as Doris gave orders to the two poor girls who would be helping to serve drinks and food at the reception, she went into the kitchen to see what she could make for her lunch.

  There were several cases of champagne stacked in one corner, and trays of glasses had been set out on the table beside a splendidly dressed salmon and a thinly sliced cooked ham which had been laid on silver platters. These were accompanied by endless dishes of winter salads, canapés, delicate sandwiches and little bowls of salted biscuits.

  Her mouth watered at the sight, but she knew that if she took even one of those biscuits she wouldn’t hear the last of it, so she made a spam sandwich, which would have to see her through until after the service.

  ‘Make sure you clean up after yourself,’ said Doris as she bustled into the room, resplendent in full make-up, pearls, an outrageously extravag
ant hat – and, most oddly, a floral overall over her underwear and pink fluffy slippers on her feet.

  Mary had to bite her lip so she didn’t giggle as she swept up the crumbs and Doris chivvied the two girls in to show them where everything was. It was a marvel that she even owned such things as a pinny and slippers, let alone allowed anyone to see her in them. Shooting the girls a look of sympathy, Mary left them to it and took her sandwich upstairs.

  Once she’d eaten her lunch, she washed and began to get dressed. She didn’t really have anything at all suitable for a wedding, and the only decent frock she possessed was the black velvet which she and Barbara had made out of a discarded ball-gown – and the last time she’d worn it was for her parents’ funeral, which merely made her feel sad.

  She was about to slip it on over her dowdy cami-knickers and vest when there was a brief rap on the door and Doris strode in carrying a clothes bag on a hanger and a large hatbox.

  ‘Anthony has asked me to give you these. It’s a gift from him and Susan – though why they should think it necessary, I have no idea.’ She hung the bag from the wardrobe handle, put the hatbox on the bed and marched out again.

  Mary stood there in her underwear and stared in amazement for some moments after the door had closed behind Doris. The blessed woman was the absolute limit, coming in here like that without a by-your-leave. Then she shrugged off the little barb of irritation and turned her attention to the bag.

  With trembling fingers, she eased it up and over the hanger and gasped in delight as the lovely dress and jacket were revealed. Made of the finest, softest pale pink cashmere and lined with silk, it was as light as thistledown. With a scooped neck and short sleeves, it was the perfect length, and the little collarless jacket had piped edging in silk and discreet silver buttons down the front and at the ends of the sleeves. The label inside showed it had been bought from a French fashion house in London, and therefore had to have been incredibly expensive.