Don't You Love Your Daddy? (17 page)

‘Now, doesn’t your daughter look nice?’ Nana said and, without meeting my eyes, his gaze slid quickly over my dress and short hair.

‘Yes, of course, very nice,’ he said, and turned to organize the synchronized setting-off to the church. Crestfallen, I followed them out to the cars. With my father and the best man leading, we drove out of the street in our raggedy convoy. Only the dress of the passengers and the white ribbons on the bonnets indicated that a celebration was about to occur.

Once we arrived at the house where Sue and her parents lived, Billy and I were quickly handed over to her mother, who took us into a room where I found all the other bridesmaids, in identical dresses to mine. Before I had time to speak to any of them she gave me a quick inspection, tweaked my dress straight, smoothed my hair, and then we were being ushered to the large black cars that had been hired for the occasion. Sue came out of the house, the train of her white dress held in one hand, and climbed into the first, which was decked out in wide white ribbons. The other girls chatted on the way to the church but it was clear they were not interested in Billy or me.

At the church I watched as Sue’s father, a tall thin man with a wide false-teeth-white smile and sparse grey hair combed neatly back from a high forehead, climbed out of the car. He leant in and held out his arm to help his daughter alight. Yards of white lace made up the train we had to lift and a short veil hid Sue’s face, but I could see that her hair was arranged in a French pleat with loose tendrils brushing against her cheeks and that drop diamant知arrings glittered in her lobes.

I heard the music change and the Bridal March start. I saw backs straighten and Sue turned to us to show she was ready to make her entrance. I copied what the other bridesmaids did and positioned myself at the side of the train. On a signal from the matron of honour, we lifted the heavy lace fabric and slowly walked behind the bride and her father into the flower-decked church. Billy had been told to hold a basket of rose petals and throw them as he walked with us. He looked very serious as he flung his handfuls on to the floor.

When we got halfway down the aisle he stopped, realizing the basket was empty. ‘Come on, Billy, keep walking,’ the matron of honour instructed, in a loud whisper.

Every pew seemed to be full, but I saw that the church was jammed with people I didn’t recognize. Sue’s family and friends took up more than two-thirds of the space.

I searched the faces that were turned towards us for my older brother and knew that Pete had been true to his word: he had not turned up to see his father remarry. I wished he had because I needed him so much. Only he would understand what it was like to see my father remarry so soon after my mother’s death.

I dimly heard the words of the service and followed the lead of the other bridesmaids when necessary. I saw the best man patting his pockets, then passing the wedding ring to my father. He put it on Sue’s outstretched hand. I watched her lift her veil and raise her face as his head bent and he kissed her. I knew then that, like it or not, she had just become my new mother.

After what seemed like an age they returned from signing the register and, to a fanfare of organ music, my father swiftly led the procession out of the church with his new wife. The other bridesmaids, Billy and I followed and stood on the steps, while the photographer aimed his camera at us.

As we looked towards him a strong gust of wind lifted Sue’s veil and blew it across her face. When she pushed it back I noticed a smear of pink lipstick had stained it. All around us ladies’ gloved hands were raised to anchor hats that the wind tried to wrench from their heads, and girls shrieked as they clutched the hems of their pretty floaty dresses. That, I thought, will be one photograph that won’t be put in the album, and again I wished Pete was there to catch my eye. Later we would have giggled together at the sight of the one hat that got away. It was a cream one, shaped like a wheel and trimmed with black flowers. It took on a life of its own and sailed over our heads. Dipping and rising in the wind, it went halfway across the churchyard in a moment, and it took the agility of the best man, sprinting, to retrieve it. With a little bow, he returned it to its owner who, intent on stopping her skirt blowing above her head, had let go of it.

But Pete and I would not share these events because he wasn’t there. He had stuck to his word and had categorically refused to come.

The clouds kept to their earlier promise and rain started to fall in ever-increasing strength. A huge black umbrella appeared and was held over Sue’s head to protect her from the large drops as we made our way quickly to the fleet of awaiting limousines. We climbed in and were driven to the very posh country-house hotel that Sue had chosen for the reception.

As we went up the long tree-lined driveway, my grandmother told me that the hotel had once been a stately home, the largest in the county. When I looked up I saw rows of tall windows and imposing stone steps leading up to huge wooden front doors. The staircase was flanked by white pillars on either side and I wondered how big the family had been who had once lived there. Inside the entrance hall there was a magnificent chandelier. Its sparkling drops were almost blinding with their dazzling brilliance. The acres of carpet were soft and spongy to walk on and the air was thick with the perfume of the tall flower arrangements that stood on every table.

When we reached what was grandly called the Banqueting Suite there were long damask-covered tables arranged in a horseshoe shape with more flowers, silver cutlery, white linen napkins and crystal glasses. I remembered the rare times my mother had tried to make our own little dinner table look pretty. Looking round me at all the people this room was ready to hold, I was bewildered by its size and even Nana seemed rather overwhelmed. ‘There must be over two hundred guests here,’ she whispered in amazement to my granddad.

‘Bet she don’t even know them all!’ he scoffed.

I was placed at a table with the other bridesmaids and Billy, while my grandparents sat with Sue, her parents, my father, the best man, the matron of honour and a few people I didn’t know.

Discreet waiters served the start of the three-course meal. The wine flowed but on our table there were jugs of juice. The other bridesmaids, two pairs of sisters who had known each other all their lives, giggled together, and I was left with Billy for company. He already looked droopy-eyed with tiredness, so I sat and watched everything that was taking place around me.

I ate the food that was put in front of me without enthusiasm. When the main course was finished we sat back as they announced that the speeches would take place now.

I heard the popping of champagne corks as bottles were opened ready for the toasts. Sue’s father’s speech seemed to go on and on about how he had not lost a daughter but gained a business partner. My uncle, the best man, cracked a couple of jokes about when he and my father had been younger; jokes that, despite the adults’ laughter, I didn’t understand. He went on to say how delighted our family was to have Sue join it. He toasted the bridesmaids, and then it was my father’s turn to praise his new bride and repeat the best man’s sentiments in reverse, that he was so pleased to be part of his new family.

The rain had finally stopped and the sun came out so we were quickly taken into the grounds for the main photographs. More pictures were taken of the happy couple with the bridesmaids and Billy. Last the photographer grouped both families together and snapped away. Later when I looked at them in Sue’s album I saw a picture of my grandmother smiling happily, my grandfather looking almost as bored as I felt, and the best man appeared to be a little drunk with his tie askew and his hair windswept.

We returned to the Banqueting Suite to see that the faces of those who had remained behind had grown pinker, their laughter higher, and the air had become dense with cigar and cigarette smoke. The music struck up and the band leader asked us all to stand as my father led Sue back into the room and on to the dance floor for the first dance. The other bridesmaids sneaked off to join their families and I sat immobilized by stultifying boredom, waiting for someone to notice Billy and me on our own. It was my grandmother who moved us. Sue and my father were intent on each other and their guests – they appeared to have forgotten our existence.

Later Sue and my father disappeared to change, she into a pretty cream suit while my father wore a pair of fawn slacks and a pale blue open-necked shirt.

‘Come on, we have to go outside to wave them off,’ said my grandmother and, taking Billy’s hand, she led us from the room, following many of the other guests, out to the front steps.

Amid gales of laughter people were throwing confetti as my father, with his arm around his new wife’s waist, ran for the car under the shower of multicoloured paper. I heard the rattle of the tin cans that were tied to the back and watched as they drove off together, giving their friends and family one last wave.

It was then that it dawned on me they were gone, not just down the road, but on their honeymoon, and they hadn’t said goodbye to either Billy or me. My fingers curled around my grandmother’s and I moved closer to her side.

‘I think it’s time we got you two home,’ my grandfather said, and I knew that he had noticed his son and his new wife’s indifference to us.

Chapter Thirty-nine
 

As my grandparents hadn’t a spare room for me to sleep in, it had been arranged that Nana would sleep in our house and Billy would come with her. Part of me wished that my father’s honeymoon would last for ever. Nana made sure that a hot breakfast was put in front of me every morning and, even though I was old enough to take myself there, she and Billy walked with me to school. She let me put Dolly on a lead and then took her from me when we reached the school gates. When school finished she and Billy were back again, accompanied by my little dog whose front feet furiously pawed the air as she stood on her hind legs in delight at seeing me.

The two weeks that my father and Sue were away went by too quickly for me, and it was on the Sunday after we had returned from church that they reappeared. My grandmother had decided to cook the lunch at her house because ‘There’s nothing like your own stove to do a roast,’ and, besides, her dining-table had leaves that extended to seat more people than our small kitchen table. As well as her daughter and my grandfather, she had also invited my uncle, who had been best man, his wife and two children, who were just a few years older than me, to join us. I had been given the task of laying the table and was busy putting out knives and forks when they walked in.

There was a flurry of hellos, hugs for Billy and me from both of them amid excited chatter about the Lake District where they had spent their honeymoon. They said that although it had been cold it was beautiful. Then we squeezed, shoulder to shoulder, around the table, which was almost groaning under the weight of the food.

‘Shame you missed church, Sue. The minister gave such a good sermon today,’ my grandmother said, and received a wide-eyed look of disbelief from Sue.

‘Oh, church isn’t something I bother about,’ she said, with the little laugh that grated on me. ‘Of course I always do go at Christmas and Easter,’ she added, when she saw the look of disapproval settling on my grandmother’s face. ‘But Sunday is the one day that David and I can spend together. Isn’t it, darling?’ She turned her adoring gaze on my father.

He looked embarrassed. Not only did his whole family attend church regularly but he took pleasure in knowing his Bible and, as I had learnt to my detriment, used passages from it to reinforce his wishes.

‘Let’s talk about this later, dear,’ he said quietly to her. ‘Sue works very hard all week,’ he said. ‘Being her father’s assistant doesn’t mean he grants her any favours and sometimes she has to go in on Saturday mornings. So Sunday is her only real day off.’ I wondered, as I thought of her brand new purple Mini with its custom-made leather seats and the cassette player under the dashboard, her expensive clothes and jewellery and the lavish wedding, what my father meant by her not being granted any favours. I knew from remarks I had heard that those things were not paid for out of a normal secretary’s salary. Whatever was said when they did talk in private, it was one battle Sue didn’t win: the next Sunday she put in an appearance at church. But I was blissfully unaware of all her other plans for our family.

It was my grandmother who collected me from the house and took me to Sunday school that day. My father and Sue were to join them at church later. It was also my grandmother who pointed out to my father that I was growing fast and needed some new clothes for school; a comment he repeated to Sue later.

‘Your children have enough clothes and toys,’ she said. ‘You work so hard for your money and you don’t want to waste it, do you, David?’

Before he could answer her, Sue, knowing his reluctance to go against anything his mother asked for, put her arm round his shoulders and bent down to rest her face against his. ‘You know I’m only saying it because I love you, don’t you?’ She received a smile of agreement.

‘Anyhow, I had lunch with Daddy today and I’ve got some wonderful news to tell you. So don’t make any plans yet about getting Sally any new school clothes.’

I watched my father’s face light up and knew that, whatever Sue had to tell him, he had already guessed.

‘And, David, while we’re on the subject of your children, Sally needs to help out more. She spends all her time playing with that dog.’ He glanced at me to see if I was listening but said nothing in my defence.

Other books

Disaster for Hire by Franklin W. Dixon
Omega by Susannah Sandlin
Brittany Bends by Grayson, Kristine
Possession by Ann Rule
The Frighteners by Michael Jahn
The Red Parts by Maggie Nelson