Iris nodded. ‘I know what you mean, Rose, but we’ll just have to try to make the best of it.’
Rose didn’t reply, wondering what Christmas in Tregarron would be like. She was certain that there would be no drunken
singing, shouting or fighting as there would be in this neighbourhood.
‘Tom’s calling later, Mam. Just for an hour. You don’t mind, do you?’ Iris asked, thinking her mother looked pale, tired and a bit tearful.
‘No, I like the lad, Iris. He might well help to cheer us all up.’
Charlie came into the kitchen wearing his good suit, a heavy overcoat and carrying the new trilby hat he’d bought. He’d justified the extravagance by telling himself it made him look more respectable and as tonight he would – he hoped –officially become Edward Taylor’s prospective son-in-law, a trilby was more suitable to that position than a cloth cap.
‘You’re done up like a dog’s dinner! I know it’s Christmas but a trilby? What’s wrong with your cap?’ Iris asked.
Kate smiled at her son, thinking he looked very smart indeed. ‘It’s an important night for Charlie. Go on, I think you can tell them now, son.’
‘Tell us what?’ Iris demanded.
‘That I’m going to ask Florence to marry me tonight, before supper. I’ve bought the ring already,’ Charlie revealed, drawing the box from the inside pocket of his jacket.
‘Really? Oh, Charlie, can we see it?’ Rose cried eagerly.
‘I hope she accepts then,’ Iris muttered under her breath although she knew her friend would. Florence had been dropping hints for weeks now.
They both gasped in astonishment at the ring and Kate and Charlie exchanged happy glances.
‘It’s . . . magnificent, Charlie! I’ve never seen anything like it,’ Rose cried, thinking that Florence would surely be delighted.
‘That must have cost a pretty penny. Now I understand why you’ve been acting like Scrooge for months,’ Iris added, thinking that Rose was right. She’d never seen anything as fine either.
‘It’s true value is about sixteen guineas but I got it for six from Cookson’s and not even her mam can look down her nose at it. Not when it’s obviously an expensive ring,’ Charlie announced proudly.
Rose thought this was very astute of him but Iris frowned. It seemed to her that it was more important to her brother that the Taylors were suitably impressed by this ostentatious ring than that Florence was pleased. She wondered how her friend would feel about having a second-hand ring. Cookson’s was a big pawnbroking establishment and she hoped the name wasn’t embossed on the inside of the box. Well, she wasn’t going to mention that fact to Florence. She would sooner have something cheaper, smaller, less showy but chosen especially to delight her, rather than to impress her family and friends. That’s if of course Tom ever asked her to marry him. She sincerely hoped he would, even though they’d only been courting a short while. She wouldn’t even mind not having a ring at all. A plain gold wedding band would be sufficient.
Charlie felt very proud and confident as he walked up Cedar Grove that cold, frosty evening. In many windows brightly
decorated Christmas trees, illuminated by dozens of tiny candles, could be glimpsed. Tasteful wreaths of entwined holly and evergreens were attached to front doors and the occasional burst of muffled laughter could be heard but little else. There were no drunks hanging on to the lamp posts or staggering along roaring carols in tuneless voices; no crowds hanging around outside the pub doors being closely watched by burly coppers, on hand for the first sign of trouble. No scruffy kids still out, begging passers-by for a penny. This was the kind of neighbourhood he wanted to live in and tonight would mark the beginning of his journey to that end.
Florence opened the door to him, dressed in a new midnight-blue velvet dress embroidered around the neckline with silver bugle beads. A headband of the same material, similarly embellished, encircled her shiny loosely waving hair, which she’d recently had cut short. He’d liked it at once; it suited her and made her look more grown up and elegant but he’d been surprised that it had been at her mother’s suggestion.
‘Charlie, don’t you look smart! I do like the hat, it really suits you. Come in.’ She took his coat and hat and hung them in the small cloakroom next to the front door that boasted stained-glass door panels.
Charlie lingered in the hall, noticing the display of Christmas roses and holly arranged in a vase on the table beside the telephone. ‘Florence, before we join your parents, can I talk to you? There’s . . . there’s something special I have to ask.’
Florence blushed as she felt excitement rush through her. Oh, this had to be
it
! She’d been hoping and praying for months now that he’d ask her to marry him. ‘Of course, come into Dad’s little study.’
She ushered him into the small room and he glanced around, never having been in here before. It wasn’t fancy; there was a desk half covered with papers, a chair and shelves on which reposed files and ledgers. A fire burned in the hearth, heavy velvet curtains covered the window and an electric reading lamp on the desk gave the room a cosy but subdued feel. This was obviously the hub of Edward Taylor’s business, he mused.
‘What . . . what is it, Charlie?’ Florence asked tentatively, her eyes cast demurely down but her flushed cheeks betraying her feelings.
Charlie took the box from his pocket and reached and took her hand. ‘Florence, you know how I feel about you and we’ve been courting now for a while and so I’m asking you if you’ll marry me? I have your father’s permission.’
Florence raised her eyes and he was delighted and relieved to see the happiness shining in them. ‘Oh, Charlie! Of course I’ll marry you. I love you so much, you know that,’ she cried. This was the happiest day of her life!
‘I bought this for you, Florence, I hope you like it. I know we’ll be happy.’
Florence gasped as he took the ring and slid it on to her finger. ‘Charlie! It’s . . . gorgeous! Oh, I’m the luckiest girl in the world and I’m so very, very happy!’ She threw her arms
around his neck and kissed him. It was true, she thought, and he obviously loved her a great deal to have spent so much on her ring.
‘Shall we go and break the news now?’ he asked a few seconds later, gently disentangling himself.
‘Oh, yes!’ Florence cried joyfully.
Her parents were sitting beside the fire, her mother holding a crystal glass containing sherry, her father’s a measure of finest Scotch whisky.
‘We . . . we’ve got something to tell you. We’re engaged, look at the gorgeous ring Charlie’s given me,’ Florence announced, holding out her left hand.
Edward immediately got to his feet and shook Charlie warmly by the hand. ‘Congratulations! I didn’t think for a moment she’d turn you down, Charlie.’
Charlie grinned at him. He was almost one of the family now, he thought smugly.
Ethel Taylor had also risen and had kissed Florence, trying her best to feel happy for her daughter, who was so obviously delighted. She was also quite astonished by the ring Charlie had bought. At least if he rose to a more affluent position in life – and she hoped he would for Florence’s sake – Florence would have a ring she wouldn’t be embarrassed to wear in public. ‘Congratulations! It’s beautiful, Florence,’ she said, echoing her husband.
‘Well, I think this calls for something a bit special to drink and in anticipation of the happy event I purchased a bottle of champagne. It’s outside in the yard, in a bucket – chilling. I
didn’t want to put it in the larder in case I spoiled the surprise,’ Edward announced.
‘Oh, really, Edward,’ Ethel laughed although wondering why the yard? She couldn’t see what was wrong with the larder. Her daughter never ventured in there, and she had known that Charlie was popping the question this evening, so there had been no question of the surprise being spoiled. ‘I’ll get the glasses,’ she announced, following her husband out but going into the dining room and to the china cabinet.
The table was already laid and if she said so herself it looked lovely: tasteful and yet festive at the same time. She doubted there would be a starched, lace-edged cloth, solid silver cutlery, fine bone-china dishes, cut-crystal glasses and a centrepiece of a thick church candle, the base decorated with holly and red velvet ribbon, on the table in the Mundys’ home. She frowned. Well, they were officially engaged now so all she could do was try to put a brave face on it and pray that unless something happened to make Florence change her mind, it would all turn out well in the end. It certainly was an expensive ring he’d bought, she thought, and then stopped in the act of taking out the glasses. That ring! There was something familiar about it, she was sure. If she could just get a closer look at it she might remember. She shook herself mentally. Perhaps she was wrong. She should hurry: they’d be waiting for the champagne.
Tom had arrived on time and bearing a bottle of port. ‘I thought a drop of this might be welcome, Mrs M.,’ he
explained as he handed Kate the bottle.
‘That was very thoughtful of you, Tom. I think we could all do with a drop of “cheer”. Iris, get some glasses.’ Kate smiled, thinking how Tom’s presence always seemed to lift her spirits.
Iris too smiled at him, glad he had come for his presence had lightened the atmosphere.
‘I left Mam peeling a mountain of spuds that she’s going to put into a bucket of cold water but I promised I’d do the carrots and sprouts when I get back. Da won’t be in from the pub until later and neither will the girls. It’s all go, Mrs M., isn’t it, at Christmas?’
Kate smiled at him again. He’d taken to calling her ‘Mrs M.’ of late and she quite liked it. ‘You can say that again, Tom.’
‘I take it Charlie is out celebrating with Florence?’ Tom enquired.
‘He’s having supper with her parents and they’ve got something to celebrate indeed, Tom. They’re getting engaged. At least I hope they are although I can’t see Florence turning him down,’ Kate announced as she handed round the glasses.
‘Are they? Well, that’s something to drink to. So, she’s going to be your sister-in-law after all, Iris.’ Tom raised his glass and Iris nodded.
‘And you should have seen the ring he’s bought her,’ Rose put in. ‘It’s gorgeous and very expensive.’
‘But not new,’ Iris added but, catching a glance from her mother, went on, ‘not that that matters. Florence will love it
and I’ll love having her as my sister-in-law.’
‘When’s the wedding then?’ Tom asked, not missing the note of disparagement in Iris’s voice.
‘I don’t think our Charlie’s got a date in mind yet,’ Kate said as she sipped her drink. ‘But I don’t expect it to be any time soon. He’ll have to save up hard again if he wants to find a house in a decent area to rent and to furnish. He can’t expect a girl like Florence to live in a neighbourhood like this, even though she’s far from being a snob.’
‘Perhaps they could live with her parents? They’ve got a big house, haven’t they?’ Tom suggested. It wasn’t uncommon.
Kate shook her head. ‘They have but I can’t see her mother being happy about that idea. I still think Mrs Taylor would have liked Florence to marry someone with a better job and better prospects.’
‘You can’t choose who you fall in love with, Mrs M.,’ Tom said seriously, looking pointedly at Iris.
‘That’s true enough,’ Kate replied, smiling. The lad was obviously in love with Iris and she with him and she approved. She’d be happy if they too were to become engaged but on what he earned they might well have to start their married life here with her. There would be room, she thought, for she’d decided to let Rose go back to Tregarron next month. She’d received a note from Gwen that morning, brief and to the point. Rose could start work as a housemaid at Plas Idris in the New Year. Miss Olivia Rhys-Pritchard had been very amenable to the idea when it had been mentioned by Mrs Mathews, the housekeeper, with whom she’d had a word. It
appeared that finding good, reliable staff was getting to be almost impossible.
Later Tom reluctantly bade them goodnight and as Iris showed him out through the shop he stopped and took her in his arms.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon. I’ll bring your present,’ he promised.
‘I hope you haven’t got me something too expensive, Tom. I’ve only bought you—’
‘Don’t tell me! Surprise me! And no, it’s not expensive – much as I’d like it to be.’
She smiled at him. ‘I’m not Florence.’
He became serious as he kissed her forehead. ‘I know. I . . . I couldn’t afford much of a ring, but . . .’
‘Tom, what are you saying?’ she asked, wondering if she’d heard right or if she had misconstrued his words.
‘I’m trying to say that I love you and that if you’ll have me . . . we could be very happy together.’ He bent and kissed her.
Iris clung to him, feeling such a surge of joy wash over her that it made her feel dizzy. ‘Of course I’ll have you,’ she whispered when she was able.
‘I can’t promise you much, Iris. My wage is little more than a pittance and although I’m grateful for it there’s no prospect of me getting anything else that would pay more. So it might well be years before I can afford . . . anything, but I just wanted to let you know and sort of make you mine.’
‘I
am
yours. There’s never been anyone else and I don’t mind waiting. I don’t even want an engagement ring, never mind one as showy as Florence’s. It’s
you
I love and want to spend my life with. I don’t need a ring to prove that.’
He kissed her again. He hadn’t meant to ask her yet, it had just happened – probably prompted by the news of Charlie’s engagement – but he was glad now he had.
When she at last drew away from him she smiled, utter bliss shining in her eyes. ‘I don’t think we should say anything to Mam yet though, it might all be a bit too much for her now. First our Charlie and now me, and Rose wanting to go off again, back to Tregarron and for good this time.’
Tom nodded. ‘I think you’re right. Let’s keep it our secret for a while.’
Iris hugged him; she could hardly believe it. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘You certainly will, Iris. I love you. And Happy Christmas.’
When she’d closed the door after him she leaned against it, her hands pressed to her cheeks. They were going to get married – one day! Oh, she never thought she could feel this happy even though she missed her father so much. It was such a pity that Da had never met Tom – she was sure he would have liked him. Somehow she felt that he was looking down on her with joy and approval. This was going to be a much happier Christmas now than she had ever envisaged.