A Christmas Promise (29 page)

‘Go on,’ said Mrs Darnley, encouraging Agnes to put on the lilac bridesmaid dress that Olive had made. Agnes had been about to put it in the wardrobe, the wonderful day fresh in her memory. She had adored her few days back in Article Row, but was more than glad to be back here on the farm, where she now felt she belonged and she knew that she couldn’t be away too long. It was coming up to harvest time and she worried that she would need all the hours God sent just to bring in this year’s crops.

‘Do you think I should?’ Agnes asked, thrilled that Olive had allowed her to keep the precious lilac dress made of whisper-soft material with a sweetheart neckline. Then, after a few more words of encouragement from the woman who had become like another substitute mother to her, Agnes took off her corduroy trousers and heavy shirt, left by her father, and slipped into the soft folds of heavenly silk. Then, turning, she eyed the back of the dress over her shoulder in the full-length mirror.

‘Oh,’ Mrs Darnley whispered, enraptured, ‘you look so pretty in that dress.’

Agnes blushed to the roots of her fair hair and shook her head – but her admiration of the dress was curtailed when there was a knock on the bedroom door and Mrs Darnley scurried over to answer it.

‘Go away,’ she said, flapping her hand. ‘Miss Weybridge is inconvenienced.’

Agnes laughed, and said, ‘You mean indisposed …’

‘I mean indisposed. She don’t get five minutes to herself around ’ere … Is it urgent?’

‘The man from the … How you say …? Agman.’

‘Oh, the man from the ministry!’ Mrs Darnley said, turning quickly in Agnes’s direction and allowing the door to open enough for Carlo to see inside the room. He turned his back but not too quickly to miss the vision that was Agnes in a beautiful lilac dress.

‘Tell him I’ll be right there, Carlo,’ Agnes said, quickly grabbing her brown corduroy trousers, which now seemed even grubbier and more mud-spattered than they had before. But, she thought, she couldn’t go around a farm wearing such an exquisite gown. It would just have to become part of the fond memories of her day back in London with her other family.

‘I’ll bring a tray of tea things through, shortly,’ Mrs Darnley said, and Agnes thanked her. As everybody had told her, the Ag. man was more to be feared than welcomed. Agnes had been amazed when, as harvest time approached, she was being inundated with help, not only from the local people but also children big and small, who were given time off school to help bring in the harvest.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Mrs Darnley, ‘if it hadn’t have been for you, this farm would have gone to ruin.’

‘But what about the War Ag. man?’ The Ministry of Agriculture stipulated that the farm’s output had to be improved, and she was amazed that Darnley was allowed to get away with such a poor crop as he had last year. Now the Ministry representative was here to check up on her.

‘Darnley had a good yield, all right,’ said Mrs Darnley. ‘Although the conniving buggers only divulged what was barely necessary, he had a good business going here and no mistake. Darnley always said, after your da was taken, mind, that he was too soft tellin’ ’em everything – until the War Ag. man came around, that is, and threatened ’im with gaol if ’e didn’t increase ’is output – that wus when ’e took the money and spent it all in the village pub … In there all day and all night, he was, ’im and ’is sons.’

‘But surely, they are your sons, too?’ Agnes said.

Mrs Darnley shook her head. ‘No, ’e be my husband’s brother, not my ’usband.’ And with that she gave a huge shudder. ‘’E ain’t got noffin’ ter do wi’ me, thank the Lord.’

‘All this time, I thought that he was your husband and they were your sons! Well, he must have made enough to last a good while then,’ said Agnes, ‘because he hasn’t bothered to come back for a job – none of them has.’

‘Well, the young ’un’s gone back to the army after his imaginary injuries cleared up,’ said Mrs Darnley, with a twinkle in her eye. ‘Even ’e can’t stand ter be near he’s old man fer long.’ And with that she let out the most infectious howl of laughter that Agnes had ever heard.

‘Now, you get changed, while I see what everybody’s ’avin’ an’ get some tea on the go.’

‘Will do, Mrs Darnley,’ Agnes said, laughing, too.

After she had changed back into her brown corduroy bib and brace trousers, Agnes was coming down the stairs when she saw Carlo standing below.

‘What is it, Carlo?’ Agnes asked, his worried frown causing her a little concern. ‘Is there something wrong? Is there a problem with the Ag. man?’

‘Agnes, please, this is difficult for me to say, but I must  … ’ Agnes was taken aback by Carlo’s serious tone and wondered what on earth could be the matter.

‘You have been a very good friend to me and I am grateful. No, not grateful, more than that. I want to be a good friend to you, too – but how can I say, …?’ he hesitated, twirling a red handkerchief between his hands nervously.

‘It’s OK, Carlo, carry on, I’m listening.’ For some unknown reason, Agnes felt butterflies rising up in her belly and there was something about the way that Carlo was looking at her with his deep, brown eyes that was awakening something else inside of her too.

‘This war will not go on for ever and, after it is all over, these land girls, they will be sent home and you will be on your own. You need someone to help you. Not just after, but for the rest of your life. I always wish to be here for you, if you will let me. Will you marry me?’

‘Oh, Carlo.’ A deep flush of pleasure crept up Agnes’s face and she was temporarily lost for words.

Carlo looked crestfallen. ‘I see I have spoken out of turn. Please forget.’ And he turned to leave.

‘Agnes reached out to touch him on the shoulder. ‘No, Carlo! Come back! I mean, yes, Carlo, I thought you’d never ask!’ Agnes laughed, as he held her in his arms, and Agnes knew that, no matter how she had felt about Ted or how sad she was at his passing, nothing could compare to the way she felt now, here in the arms of a good man who loved her for herself.

Archie went to the train station to fetch Tilly, who was looking weak and pale, and try as she might, Olive could not hold back the tears any longer.

‘Oh, my baby,’ she cried, as she helped Tilly to the car and, ignoring Tilly’s protests that the weather was far too warm for a rug, Olive tucked the woollen blanket under her daughter’s legs.

‘You know what she’s like,’ Archie said, chuckling from the front seat, where Drew sat beside him. Drew and Archie looked at each other, knowing that the two women would work it out in their own way: one would always be the doting mother and the other would always be the dutiful daughter, and the men would be bystanders who listened and knew it was more than their lives were worth to pass judgement on either of them.

Olive fussed about her daughter, making sure she was comfortable. Tilly, thankfully, recognised that it was her mother’s way of coping: Olive was a doer. She did things to keep her mind occupied and not dwell on the devastation around them. She was strong and she was forthright, more so now than at the beginning of the war, Tilly knew; as they all were. They had changed in many ways and their lives would never be the same again. People had come and gone in the six years since the war began but some had stayed.

Some, Tilly thought as she gazed in awe at the wonderful young man in the front seat, would be with her for the rest of her life. And some, like her wonderful friend Janet, would be a happy, smiling memory in years to come when the pain of her young life being so callously wiped out had subsided.

She knew she could not talk about that devastating day just yet, not until she met up with Pru and Veronica – it was far too painful – but one thing she was grateful to this war for and that was the promise the four girls had made that Christmas many years ago when they were all eager, wet-behind-the-ears ATS ‘girls’ – to stay together for ever. Pru and Veronica were coming over to see her at the weekend as they were on leave and she couldn’t wait to see them.

‘Honey,’ Drew said from the front seat, ‘did you tell your mom the good news?’

‘I was just going to,’ Tilly answered, and turning to her mother she said, ‘Mum, Drew and I are getting married. As soon as possible.’

For a brief moment, Olive’s heart lurched. She had her little girl home, but marriage could mean anything. Tilly could end up in America where she would never see her again – Olive checked herself. Tilly was a grown woman now, she’d done her service alongside the men in Italy and nearly got killed in the process. Olive had found happiness with Archie and had a baby on the way, who was she to stand in the way of her daughter’s future?

‘Oh, that is so wonderful, darling – just wonderful, perfect!’ Olive cried, and tapped Archie on the shoulder. ‘Did you hear that, Archie? Tilly and Drew are getting married!’

‘That’s marvellous news, darling, just splendid,’ Archie smiled as he and Drew exchanged glances. ‘Oh, and did I tell you we are now Barney’s official parents? We signed the papers this morning.’

‘This family just keeps getting bigger.’ Tilly laughed, thrilled that she was home safe in the folds of her family once more.

‘I can’t wait until Callum and I tie the knot. We’re not rushing anything, mind you, but I know we won’t want to wait too long.’

Sally was helping Tilly put the final touches to her wedding outfit. She was wearing a satin dress that Olive had made to Tilly’s own design from a dress that Dulcie had donated from her own wardrobe. Tilly had seen pictures of the actress Betty Grable’s wedding the previous year and had fashioned her own dress after it. The material was of a sheer silkiness that made Tilly feel like a princess and the overall effect was stunning. The blue pendant around her neck perfectly offset her dark-hair and green eyes.

‘Oh, Tilly, you’ve never looked more beautiful.’ Sally complimented her friend and helped her to make the final adjustments to the fine lace veil that had belonged to Tilly’s own mother.

‘Now, let’s see if we’ve got it all right, shall we?’ Sally continued. ‘Something old – Dulcie’s dress. Something New? Is there any chance of anything new in this godawful war?’

‘Dulcie also bought me a new garter,’ said Tilly, flashing a bit of thigh and showing off Dulcie’s gift.

‘You can depend on Dulcie!’ Sally raised an eyebrow. ‘Something borrowed – that can be your mother’s veil and then there is something blue, which is that lovely pendant.’

Tilly fingered the sapphire pendant, her thoughts turning to her friend Janet, who had been killed when she was wearing it.

Sally sensed her thoughts. ‘She’d want you to be happy, and that pendant couldn’t look lovelier. I was reading today that it looks like the tide of war is turning. Hitler’s troop’s are being routed by the Russians and the Allies are making headway into France.’

At that moment, the door to Tilly’s room opened and in came her mother, Olive, looking every inch the mother-of-the-bride, with an extravagant feather in her hat and her best woollen coat on. Olive took in her daughter’s dress, the veil and her happy face as Sally handed Tilly a bouquet of pale yellow roses and she couldn’t help but allow a tear or two to escape.

‘I never felt as proud of you as I do today, love.’ Olive voice caught as she hugged her daughter.

‘Oh, Mum, this is it – I’m finally going to be Mrs Drew Coleman. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, and now the day is actually here.’ Tilly’s eyes shone as she took her mother’s arm and made their way out of the house.

Tilly felt like a film star as she stepped out of the car borrowed from David and Dulcie. Her head injury was almost totally healed now, and only a faint scar under her hairline was any reminder that she had nearly lost her life. Taking Archie’s proud arm, she beamed the widest of smiles as the flash bulbs popped inside, as well as outside the church.

Behind her, Agnes and Sally followed her into the church, both glowing in powder blue bridesmaid’s dresses. Little Alice, with one hand in Sally’s and the other clutching her posy, looked like an angel in her pretty little dress with lots of tiny yellow flowers embroidered on to it. Olive had stayed up half the night to get it finished.

The church was full to the rafters. Callum and Carlo were there, both looking pleased as punch. Callum had six weeks’ leave, and Sally was looking forward to making her own plans with him for their wedding. She’d never been happier and knew that Callum was the love of her life – and always had been. As well as friends and family, the church was full of ATS friends of the bride and journalist friends of the groom.

As Tilly approached the altar, she only had eyes for Drew, the man who was now, after all they had been through, about to be her husband.

The wedding was a glorious affair. There wasn’t a dry eye in the front pew where Olive, Agnes, Pru and Veronica were joined by Dulcie, David and their immaculate three children, as well as Barney and Alice. Archie held his little daughter, baby Grace Dawson, on his knee and everyone thought that Grace was the image of her mother, who fussed over the new addition to the family every bit as attentively as she had fussed over Tilly. Sally and Callum gave each other a secret smile as they watched Drew Coleman take the hand of the girl he adored. Also looking on proudly was Drew’s father, who had finally accepted, as had Olive, that his son’s health and happiness were more important than his own ambitions for his son.

Tilly felt her heart would burst as she repeated their wedding vows,
to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better for worse … as long as we both shall live
.

As the vicar sealed their solemn vows, Tilly turned, to give her wonderful mother the warmest of smiles, as Drew lifted her veil and sealed it with a kiss.

‘A kiss to build a dream on, Mrs Coleman,’ Drew whispered in her ear as the congregation looked on happily.

‘Tilly gazed up at the man she had longed to marry since the day they first met, and she knew that, from this day forth, they would be as one for ever.

Olive, with Archie standing proudly beside her now, did not think she could love her elder daughter more if she lived to be a hundred …