The Bells of Bow (33 page)

Read The Bells of Bow Online

Authors: Gilda O'Neill

Tags: #Chick-Lit, #Family Saga, #Fiction, #Love Stories, #Relationships, #Romance, #Women's Fiction

‘No.’ Evie shook her head gleefully. ‘Much better than that, I’m a lady of leisure. I handed in me notice and Mr Silver said I could leave straightaway as me boy friend was gonna be leaving for the front soon.’

Georgie slapped his palms together. ‘I’ve gotta hand it to yer. Yer never fail to amaze me, young lady. Still, now yer’ve got all this time on yer hands, yer can get stuck in with me. It’s about time we jollied this place up a bit. How about having a few flowers about the place? I reckon we’ve got a few vases somewhere. Make it look nice for the wedding.’

‘That’s a lovely idea, Dad.’ Evie leaned back against the back door and sighed wistfully. ‘Wish I looked nice though. Just look at me, I’m like a barrage balloon.’

‘Daft. You hardly show yet. Anyway, that might not be a problem. Might have another little surprise for yer later on. A present.’

Evie’s eyes lit up as they always did at the thought of gifts. ‘What? Tell me.’

‘A frock that might do yer for the wedding.’

Evie giggled. ‘Here, that Vic don’t do dressmaking in his spare time, do he?’

‘I don’t think I could see Vic doing sewing, he’s built like a bloody bus. No, it’s Maudie. She says she’s got a nice dress yer can have.’

Evie’s smile disappeared. ‘It’s all right, me and Babs’re gonna make me something. Babs’ll get some material from work. Old Silver’ll turn a blind eye if it’s for me. Who knows, I might be the first bride in a khaki wedding dress.’

‘But she wants yer to have it. As a present, like. Yer can’t turn her down.’

‘It’s ever so kind of her, Dad, but I ain’t even seen it yet. So I ain’t gonna promise I’ll wear it or nothing.’

‘I bet it’ll be just the job, you see,’ Georgie said eagerly. ‘Now, sit yerself down, take the weight off yer pins and I’ll go straight over there now and tell her to bring it over for yer to have a look at.’

George was back with Maudie within five minutes.

Maudie nibbled her bottom lip nervously as she put a big, flat cardboard box down on the kitchen table and lifted off the lid. ‘Alice was breaking her neck trying to see what I had in here,’ she said, taking out layer after layer of tissue paper. A smell of sweet lavender filled the kitchen. ‘There, what d’you think?’ Maudie took out a shimmering white lace wedding dress and draped it over her arm.

Evie gasped. ‘I think it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’ Her voice was hushed. ‘Look at that stitching.’ She turned to Georgie. ‘Look, Dad, ain’t it beautiful?’

Georgie looked at the dress then at Maudie. ‘Beautiful,’ he said flatly. ‘I never realised it was a proper wedding dress.’

Evie pulled at the bodice, staring at it through narrowed eyes, guessing at the waist measurement. She lifted her gaze to Maudie. ‘D’yer reckon I’ll be able to get into it?’

‘You’re still very slim. But when you’re ready, try it on, and if it needs adjusting, me and Babs can sort it out between us. We’ll make it fit. We can let it out or put a panel in, if it needs it.’

‘If yer sure that’ll be all right?’

‘Of course. It’s yours. I want you to have it.’ Maudie folded the dress carefully back into the box. ‘I’m so pleased you like it.’ She touched Evie gently on the cheek. ‘I’ll pop round later when Babs is home and we’ll see what needs doing.’

When Georgie came back into the kitchen after seeing Maudie to the street door, he looked serious, almost stern.

Evie was stroking the dress lovingly as though it was a living creature. ‘I dunno where she got it from, Dad, but ain’t it the most beautiful thing yer’ve ever seen?’

Georgie didn’t answer her; he felt too choked to speak.

It was the morning of the wedding. Evie was stretched out soaping herself in the tin bath in the kitchen, her blonde hair tightly wound in curlers and her face covered with vanishing cream. The cooker door was wide open and the gas blazed on full heat, keeping the little room as warm as if it were a summer’s day. Blanche and her daughter Mary sat at the table cutting up one of Maudie’s precious gardening magazines into tiny pieces to make confetti, while Blanche’s toddler, Janey, lay snuggled up asleep on the rug next to Flash. Maudie was in the front room giving Evie’s wedding dress a final pressing and humming to herself, over and over again, the order of hymns that she was going to play at the service.

‘What with the salvage rules and us making this confetti,’ Blanche said to Evie, ‘and all that grub that Ringer got hold of from somewhere and,’ she lowered her voice, ‘the mystery wedding dress – gawd alone knows where that come from – let’s just hope no coppers turn up at this do, Eve, or we’ll all be spending the night in the nick.’

‘Don’t think there’s much danger of that,’ chuckled Evie. ‘Can you imagine Albie inviting the law?’ She ran her hands over her gently swelling middle. ‘I don’t look too fat, do I?’

Blanche tore another page from the magazine and started cutting it into squares. ‘You look as gorgeous as ever, darling. Here, I didn’t tell yer, my little sister’s in the family way.’

Evie nearly dropped the soap. ‘Not your Ruby?’

‘Yeah, a little present her Davey left her last time he come home on leave.’

‘But I thought she was planning to be running that munitions factory single-handed by the end of the year.’

‘That’s what she thought and all, but this being pregnant’s put a stop to all that. She don’t care though, she’s so happy about the baby. Looking after herself all proper, she is. Even gone to stay with Mum’s sister down East Ham way. It’s safer down there, she reckons.’

Evie twisted round in the bath to face Mary. ‘You gonna give up working there now Ruby’s left?’

‘You kidding?’ Mary shook her head determinedly. ‘I’m after her supervisor’s job, ain’t I?’

Blanche and Evie grinned at each other.

Babs came into the kitchen, rubbing her hands together. ‘Flaming perishing outside, it is.’ She went and stood by the cooker and warmed her hands. ‘That’s the cake sorted,’ she said, blowing on her tingling fingers. ‘Yer’ve had a right touch there, Eve.’

‘How’s that?’

‘When I went in the baker’s to collect it, Rita winked and told me to look under the cardboard. When I lifted it up there’s only a whole bottom layer made out of proper cake.’

Evie sat upright in the bath. ‘What, real cake?’

‘Yeah, hidden under that cardboard one they rent out. I asked where the stuff had come from to make it, but Bert just tapped the side of his nose with his finger and said “Careless talk!” and then he winked at me and all.’

‘Luck of the Irish, you’ve got, Eve,’ laughed Blanche. ‘He’s a good’un, old Bert.’

‘Real cake,’ Evie repeated. ‘Well, let’s see it then.’

‘I took it straight down the Drum, miss,’ Babs said, dropping a mocking curtsey. ‘If that’s all right with you.’

Evie waved her hand regally at her twin and slipped her shoulders down under the water. ‘Just so long as you ain’t been shirking.’

Babs sat at the table between Mary and Blanche and started tearing pages from the magazine into strips. ‘Guess who I saw in the Drum – the old trout herself.’

‘Queenie Denham?’ Blanche guessed.

‘Got it in one. Should have seen her. She swanned in with these two women, laden down with boxes of food they was, looking down her nose at everyone. Even at Nellie.’

Evie held the flannel up to her face and peered round it as if she was in pain. ‘Tell me the worst, Babs. Did she look like she had her wedding outfit on?’

‘’Fraid so.’

Evie groaned. ‘Lairy?’

‘Yer could say that. And her hair’s very orange.’


Very
orange?’

‘Very.’

‘What a show up.’

Mary sniggered and Blanche tapped her across the back of her head. ‘You ain’t too big to feel the back of my hand, madam,’ she warned her.

‘Yer can’t blame her, Blanche.’ Babs nibbled her lip to stop herself laughing. ‘You just wait till yer see her. She looks like she should be on top of a Christmas tree. And when she had the cheek to get all hoity toity with Nellie, after all she’s done for us, I thought Nellie was gonna land one on her. I mean, there’s Nellie, done all that food what Dad brought, and she’s done it lovely and all. Then Queenie turns up with all this gear. And she kept saying, “I wanna do my boy proud, he’s used to decent things, my Albie.” And looking down her nose at what Nellie’d already laid out.’

Evie snorted. ‘Used to decent things! What a load of old toffee. Yer should see their place, Blanche. It is soapy. She’s a right filthy mare, that Queenie.’

Mary giggled.

‘Truth. Yer should see their front room, they have a fire burning all weathers. It’s all right now, when it’s cold like this, but when it’s warm it’s horrible. Stinks like hell. They burn these great big lengths of quartering that they make Chas fetch from the bombsites. They stick one end in the fireplace and the other end goes right up the passage. As it burns away, the old girl kicks it further onto the fire till it’s all used up. Then they put on another one.’

‘Never.’

‘Honest, Blanche. It’s just like having a bonfire inside the house. You ask Babs. I’ve told her all about it.’ She turned to Babs. ‘And how about Bernie, the old man?’

Babs tutted and rolled her eyes. ‘You listen to this, Blanche.’

‘See, their lav’s got no roof,’ Evie continued. ‘Not had one since I first went round there. And that’s what, fourteen, fifteen months ago? And they ain’t never bothered to do nothing about it. So when it’s raining, Bernie goes out there with a bloody umbrella.’

‘Liar,’ Mary spluttered.

Evie’s already big blue eyes widened. ‘I swear on my life. And the lav door, that’s as bad. It ain’t got no hinges so you have to kind of lift it to one side to get in and out. But Bernie can’t be bothered to pull the door over to shut it or nothing when he’s in there, so he just sits there reading the racing papers like a king on his bloody throne and anyone going past can see him. They’re so used to it they even call out good morning to him.’

‘It’s smashing to hear you all laughing, girls,’ said Maudie as she came into the kitchen. ‘And I don’t wanna be a spoilsport when you’re having such a good time, but I think you should think about getting dressed soon, Eve. Your Dad’ll be here with the taxi in less than an hour.’ Babs looked up at the clock. ‘Blimey, Eve,’ she said, undoing the buttons of her blouse. ‘Come on, get out of that bath and let me get in. Hurry up, I ain’t even ironed me bridesmaid’s frock yet.’

‘It’s done,’ smiled Maud. ‘All you two’ve got to worry about is your hair and lipstick. I’ll be back over when I’ve got changed.’

‘We’ll be off and all,’ said Blanche, scooping the homemade confetti into old blue paper sugar bags. ‘Mary, try and pick Janey up without waking her or she’ll be grizzly all day.’

Forty-five minutes later, Babs and Evie sat side by side at the dressing table up in the front bedroom, looking at their twin reflections in the triple-framed mirror, Evie in her white gown and Babs in her pale blue bridesmaid’s dress.

‘Them flowers look right pretty in your hair, Babs.’

‘They was Maudie’s idea.’

‘So long as everyone don’t look at you instead of me,’ grinned Evie, and shoved Babs in the ribs, nearly knocking her off the dressing table stool. ‘Yer’ll have to wait till you get married for that. This is my big day, not your’n.’

‘I’m gonna miss yer so much, Eve.’ Babs grabbed her twin’s hand.

‘Don’t, Babs. Don’t make me cry, yer’ll spoil me make-up.’

Georgie knocked on the bedroom door. ‘Can I come in?’

The girls both turned round to face him.

Georgie stood there a moment, looking at his daughters. ‘I can’t tell you two how beautiful you both are. Just look at the pair of yer. Like a painting.’

‘You look smashing and all, Dad,’ Babs said. Her lip quivered as she spoke.

Georgie sniffed. ‘Bit o’ luck I bought this new suit, eh?’

‘Yeah.’ Evie stood up and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Yer look really smart, Dad. I’m gonna be proud to be on yer arm.’

‘I’m the one who should be proud, Eve.’ He blew his nose loudly. ‘Yer do know it’s not too late to change yer mind?’

‘Don’t, Dad, not today.’

‘All right, darling. Not today. But yer know yer’ve always got a home here with us.’

‘I know, Dad.’

Georgie took a deep breath. ‘Right, you’d better go down, Babs, the cabs are waiting. Maudie’s going with you, and me and Eve’ll be in the one behind.’

As Babs stepped out into the street, Maudie was waiting for her.

‘I’m sure you’ve already heard it from your dad, but you look a picture.’ Maudie squeezed Babs’s hand and led her to the waiting taxi.

They both smiled at the little crowd, including Alice and Ethel in the prime spot along the wall by the street doorstep, who had gathered to watch the bride leave the house before they ran round to the church for the service.

‘Getting married.’ Alice managed to make the words sound like an insult. ‘All happened a bit quick, if you ask me.’

Now it was Evie’s turn to leave the house. The onlookers oohed and aahed at the beautiful bride on the arm of her proud father.

‘Bit quick?’ Ethel didn’t bother to lower her voice. ‘Will yer look at the size of her. That frock ain’t fooling no one. I always knew that she’d bring trouble home. Just like her mother.’

Evie stopped right in front of her.

Ethel drew herself up to her full height and stared over Evie’s shoulder. ‘And I’d like to know where that frock come from and all.’

Evie lifted her veil and flashed her most dazzling smile at Ethel and Alice. ‘March it’s due,’ she said sweetly, patting her stomach. ‘And don’t forget, me and Albie’s really looking forward to seeing yer at the wedding party in the Drum.’ She winked then dropped the veil. ‘See yer, ladies.’

Georgie squeezed her arm and whispered, ‘Good for you, darling. No one takes liberties with us Bells.’

‘I’ll be a Denham soon, Dad,’ Evie reminded him.

Everyone, even Alice and Ethel, had to agree that the do afterwards at the pub was a success, a proper knees-up like they used to have before the war. Although the two old gossips wondered, loudly and rudely, about where all the grub came from, they were both more than happy to get stuck in to the shellfish, pies and pickles, the sandwiches, cold meats and trifle, and aggressively encouraged their husbands to do the same. Queenie showed a grudging approval of the cake, and took a large slab of it for herself, claiming that she had clients she wanted to treat to a little taster of her boy’s wedding breakfast. No one was clear what Bernie thought of the proceedings as he was slumped, drunk, in the corner.

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