It was the day before her wedding, and at ten in the morning Emma was hurrying to Clapham Common. Horace had been wonderful, having arranged a small reception for friends and family to be held at the house after the service. He had also ordered flowers to decorate the hall and drawing room but, worried that they’d wilt, Emma had agreed to be there today for the delivery. She didn’t mind. It would give her a chance to arrange them prettily and to give the rooms a final lick and polish, ready for tomorrow’s reception.
Emma smiled softly. Horace had bought her a lovely outfit to wear, and he’d been so thoughtful too, suggesting that she get ready at the house, whilst he went to a friend’s for his own preparations. Of course she had jumped at the chance. She’d be able to have a bath, and to dress in peace, away from the cramped conditions at home. At first she’d been worried about the children, but
Dick, along with her father, had the day off and would be there to ensure they were washed and spruced up. When everyone was ready, they’d all meet up at the registry office.
She turned into the drive now, fumbling in her bag for the key, but as she let herself in, her face stretched in surprise. ‘Horace! I thought you’d be at work.’
‘Don’t be silly, darling. I’d hardly go to work today. In fact I was just about to go to my friend’s house. I’d better get a move on. I’ll pick you up at twelve and I’ve arranged a taxi to take us to the registry office.’
‘But…but, Horace. The wedding isn’t until tomorrow.’
‘Emma, what on earth are you talking about? Of course it isn’t tomorrow. We’re getting married today.’
‘No, oh, no. You said the twenty-seventh.’
He walked over to the hall table, picking up a document. ‘Here, look at this. What does that say?’
She shook her head frantically, refusing to see the date before her eyes. ‘This doesn’t make sense. How can it be today? Nothing is ready. The…the flowers. The reception.’
‘Of course everything is ready, you silly goose. Look, haven’t you noticed the flowers? I must admit I was surprised when you didn’t turn up
yesterday, but not to worry, they’re fine and I hope you like your bouquet.’
‘Bouquet?’
‘Yes, it’s in the kitchen. Now come on, come with me.’ And, taking her arm, Horace led her to the dining room. ‘Look, it’s all prepared and the woman I employed was here before eight. She left about twenty minutes ago.’
There was a beautiful buffet laid out on the table and Emma stared at it in dismay. ‘But it
can’t
be today, Horace. It just can’t,’ she cried.
‘Look, Emma, I don’t know how this mix-up came about, but I can assure you our wedding service is in less than two hours’ time. Now, it’s getting late and I suggest you get ready. As I said, I’ll call back for you at twelve o’clock.’
‘But, Horace,’ Emma wailed, ‘what about my family? My father and Dick are at work and the children at school. They can’t possibly be there for twelve.’
Horace sighed heavily. ‘I’m sorry, my dear, but if that’s the case they’ll just have to miss the service. Oh, please, don’t cry. It isn’t the end of the world, and we can make it up to them by holding the reception this evening instead of this afternoon. In fact, I’ll order some champagne and we can celebrate with them in style.’
Emma shook her head, still bewildered. She was sure that Horace had said the twenty-seventh of
September, yet the documents said differently. Maybe she
had
made a mistake. Oh, it was awful. How was she going to explain it to her family? ‘Oh, Horace, I dread to think what my family are going to say.’
‘Leave them to me, darling. They’ll be fine, you’ll see. Now, please, will you get ready?’
She saw the appeal in his eyes, and slowly nodded. ‘Yes, all right.’
‘Thank goodness for that. I would have hated to waste all this wonderful food, let alone the cost of the flowers. Right, I’m off to get ready and I’ll pick you up later as arranged. ’Bye, darling,’ he added, dropping a swift kiss onto the tip of her nose.
Emma watched him leave and then, sighing heavily, her shoulders slumped, she went upstairs to prepare for her wedding.
They arrived only just in time, and as Horace had told Emma, the service was short. She looked well, he thought, but he’d cringed at her diction when she spoke her vows. It was something he would have to sort out, and soon. He’d invited only three men–business acquaintances, all single–and when hearing of the supposed mix-up, two had stepped forward to act as witnesses.
Horace took Emma’s arm, moving her towards the group. There was an assistant bank manager, a lawyer’s clerk, and an estate agent, all men he
met occasionally in his dealings and ones he knew coveted his business to further their careers. As expected, they had accepted his invitation, but now to move his plans forward, he had to get rid of these three buffoons.
‘Thank you so much for coming, and I’m sorry about the mix-up. I had intended to invite you to our reception, but without my wife’s family present, I’m afraid it’s been cancelled.’
Obviously deciding to act as spokesperson for the group, it was the estate agent who said, ‘Please, there’s no need to apologise. We understand completely,’ and then reaching out his hand he added, ‘Let me be the first to congratulate you on your marriage.’
‘Thank you,’ Horace said, shaking the man’s hand, and doing the same to the others.
The estate agent then turned to Emma and, obviously not sure what to do, he reached out his hand before dropping it back to his side. ‘Congratulations, Mrs Bell. May I kiss the bride?’
Horace noted with pleasure that her eyes flew to him. ‘Yes, you may,’ he said, and after the man dropped a quick kiss on Emma’s cheek, the others did the same.
For a moment there was an awkward silence and, anxious to be away, Horace said brusquely, ‘Well, goodbye, and thank you once again for coming.’
He waited until Emma had said goodbye, this time shaking their hands, and then he led her away. Unfortunately for the estate agent, Horace had excellent hearing, and before they were out of earshot he heard the man say, ‘The tight bastard could at least have bought us a drink.’
Horace narrowed his eyes, making a mental note not to deal with the man again as he grimly calculated what the day had already cost him. There was Emma’s outfit, the caterer, the flowers, let alone the added amount of having to buy a couple of bottles of champagne. Still, he thought, heaving a sigh, at least he hadn’t been lumbered with Emma’s bloody family at the registry office, and arranging a small buffet at home had been a vast saving on using a hotel. He’d already bought gifts to placate them, but of course Emma didn’t know that, and now there was only this evening to get through. After that, as far he was concerned, it would be the last time Emma’s lot would be invited to his home. Despite the cost, he smiled now. Once the rest of his plan was in place, it would ensure that in future there would be a tight rein on the purse strings.
He glanced at Emma. She was so quiet, hardly saying a word, and noting how wan she looked, asked, ‘Are you all right, my dear?’
‘Yes, but it was over so quickly and until one of your friends called me Mrs Bell, it didn’t seem real.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘I don’t understand why
you didn’t invite them to the reception this evening. Instead you told them it’s been cancelled.’
Horace had to think quickly. ‘They’re busy men and expected the reception to follow the service. I know they had other plans for this evening and didn’t want to put them in a spot. Now look, there’s a taxi.’ He hailed it and opened the door for Emma, relieved that he’d managed to explain it away so easily, but he didn’t want any more questions. As they settled in their seats, he took Emma’s hand. ‘When we get home, we’ll have a small celebratory drink, and later I’ll pop round to see your father. Now then, don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll understand, and I’ll bring your whole family back with me for the reception.’
‘As the mix-up was my fault, perhaps it would be better coming from me?’
‘No, my dear, I’ll talk to him.’ Unable to resist any longer he pulled Emma into his arms, kissing her passionately. Her slim body trembled like a bird and there was no answering pressure from her lips, but Horace didn’t mind. This was what he wanted. A meek wife, a biddable wife, and in Emma he had found just that.
At eight that evening, Emma was hovering at the window. Horace had gone to break the news to her family and, despite his reassurances, she was nervous about their reaction.
For her, the day had been fraught, her nerves jangling when she had met Horace’s business acquaintances. Though she was dressed well, she had been scared to open her mouth to such well-spoken men. The afternoon hadn’t been any better, Horace constantly showering her with kisses, and at one time she’d been terrified that he wanted to take it further. She had frantically pulled herself out of his arms and at first he’d looked a little annoyed, but then he had smiled, saying that in light of the reception, perhaps it would be better to wait until their wedding night. His remark had worried her, was still worrying her. She dreaded it and shuddered as she remembered her mother’s nightly cries.
Her family were here. Trying to push her fears to one side, Emma hurried to the door. She threw it open, her father first into the hall, grinning as he said, ‘You silly mare, fancy getting the dates mixed up! Still, never mind, and I must say that Horace has made up for it.’
‘Has he?’
‘Yeah, he gave me a bottle of whisky, but won’t tell me how he managed to get hold of it. Ain’t that right, Horace? Mind you, I ain’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.’
‘Let’s just say that I have my sources,’ Horace replied.
Polly’s look was flirtatious as she moved
forward, touching Horace on the arm. ‘Gin’s my tipple, and thanks for thinking of me too.’
Emma frowned, thinking that Polly seemed a bit brazen, but then stood back as the rest of her family came in, all smiling happily except for Dick.
‘Look, Emma,’ Ann cried, holding up a doll. ‘Ain’t she lovely? I’ve called her Ruby to match her dress.’
It was a pleasure to see Ann’s joy. This was her first real doll, any others home-made from pegs or wool. Emma then watched as the rest of her family displayed their presents. Bella had a doll too; identical to Ann’s except for the colour of her outfit. Emma looked at Luke, saw that his face was wan, and forced a smile.
‘I see you’ve got a board game. What is it?’
‘Monopoly.’ He then moved forward, his voice a whisper. ‘Em, now that you’re married, we’ll hardly see you.’
‘Don’t be silly, of course you will.’
‘No, Em, things are going to change. I can feel it.’
‘You’ll never lose me, Luke, never,’ Emma said emphatically, ignoring the shiver of apprehension that ran up her spine. Dick moved to their side and she forced a smile, asking, ‘Did you get a present too?’
‘Yeah, he dropped me a couple of bob.’
Emma frowned. Despite this, Dick looked
unhappy too, and linking arms with them she said, ‘I’m so sorry that you missed the service. It was my fault, but I’m glad that Horace has tried to make it up to you.’
Only moments latter, Horace ushered them into the drawing room and from then on everyone seemed to relax as champagne corks popped, with Horace even pouring a small glass for each of the children. There was a toast, giggles and grimaces as the bubbles went up their noses, and shortly after they were all led to the dining room where they piled their plates with food from the buffet.
Emma felt her father at her side, his arm sweeping the room. ‘Well, girl, you’ve certainly done all right for yourself.’
Yes, Emma thought, this place was a palace in comparison to her old home. She glanced at her brothers again, saw that Dick still looked unhappy, but it was after ten before she was able to talk to him away from the others.
‘I’m sorry, Dick. I don’t know how I managed to mix up the dates.’
‘Leave it out. I know you, Em, and I don’t think you’ve anything to apologise for. I’ve been keeping an eye out until I could prove something, and I now know the bastard’s been leading you round by the nose. It ain’t the first time either.’
‘If you’re talking about Horace, I don’t know what you mean.’
‘I’m talking about him all right. I’ve had my suspicions from the start, especially about Dad’s new flat, and now there’s this supposed mix-up with the wedding date. I ain’t blind and reckon I’ve worked it out.’
‘Worked what out?’
‘Look, I know it’s your wedding day and all that, but surely you’re a bit suspicious?’
Emma frowned, shaking her head. ‘About what?’
‘Well, according to Horace, you mixed up the dates and thought the wedding was planned for tomorrow.’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘I don’t believe it, Em. You ain’t that stupid, especially about something as important as your wedding day.’
‘Horace booked the registry office, and he showed me the documents. It had to be my fault.’
‘Oh yeah, and when did he show you these documents?’
‘This morning.’
‘Right, so before that he just told you the date–a date you’re supposed to have got wrong?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Now tell me this, after you got hitched, did Horace go off anywhere or did you come straight back here?’
‘We came here.’
‘So until he called round to our place this evening, he hasn’t been out?’
‘Well…no.’
‘Huh, I thought so. He had this all planned from the start and you fell for it.’
‘Dick, you’re not making any sense.’
‘All right, explain this then. Horace turned up with all these presents, telling us they were his way of saying sorry that we missed the service. Now tell me, Em. If he hasn’t been out, how did he conjure them up?’
‘I…I don’t know. Maybe he found a shop open.’
‘Oh, yeah, and what time did he leave for our place?’
‘At six thirty.’
‘And he arrived by seven, hardly time to stop off at shops and anyway, they’d have been shut. That means he already had the presents–that he planned the whole thing.’
Emma frowned. ‘Yes, I see what you mean, but I don’t understand why.’
‘I’ve been trying to work that out, and the only thing I can come up with is that he didn’t want us lot at the service.’