Guarded Passions (19 page)

‘If that's what's troubling you,' he said as he sat down on the floor beside her chair.

As Helen reached out to ruffle Mark's shock of dark hair, he caught her hand and held it firmly between his own. The strength of his grasp confused her. As she looked down into the serious blue eyes set in the strong, square face, it was like looking at the Adam she had known when she was eighteen.

‘Why are you so upset about Ruth wanting to get married?' Mark persisted. ‘Hugh seems a decent sort.'

‘You don't understand … she is just a child.'

‘No she isn't. She's eighteen. She's old enough to drive a car and vote, so why can't she get married?'

‘But why does she want to leave home, Mark? I've always tried to be a good mother to you all; where have I failed?'

‘You haven't failed. We've grown up just that little bit quicker than most kids. Dad being in the Army probably had something to do with it.'

Helen looked at him in surprise. ‘Someone else once said that to me,' she said quietly. ‘Perhaps it is true. But we're not an Army family now.'

‘And we haven't got Dad,' he added, his voice gruff with emotion. ‘Ruth's probably looking for someone to replace him. Think it lucky she didn't go for someone old enough to be her father! Girls like Ruth often do.'

Helen bit her lips to stop them trembling. How did Mark know things like that? she thought aghast.

‘If you stop her marrying Hugh Edwards,' Mark went on, ‘then she'll probably elope with him. And if she does that we may not see her again for ages, not until the rift heals.'

‘What do you think your father would have said about all this, Mark?'

‘I think he would have agreed to them getting married.'

‘But Ruth is so young …'

‘Hugh isn't though,' Mark cut her short. ‘Look,' he said, standing up and reaching out a hand to pull Helen to her feet, ‘why don't you sleep on it, Mum? It will all make sense in the morning.'

As he leant down and kissed her cheek, she raised her hand to caress his firm jawline. ‘You sound just like your father.' She smiled. ‘That was the sort of thing he always used to say when there was a problem and we couldn't find a solution.'

She saw him flush with embarrassment. Then with a grin he said, ‘Well, what about taking my advice? I
am
the man of the house, you know.'

Comforted by Mark's concern, and hopeful that it would all look different in the morning, Helen went to bed and slept soundly until the noises from the farmyard and the early-morning birdsong woke her.

Helen was in the kitchen preparing breakfast when Ruth came downstairs next morning. Dressed in jeans and a blue and pink checked shirt, she looked subdued and very young. Her eyes met her mother's hesitantly, almost as if expecting an outburst.

‘Is Hugh ready for breakfast?' Helen asked quietly.

‘I don't know. Shall I go and call him?'

‘Tell Lucy to do it. You lay the table. Mark will be in from milking any minute now.'

As she spoke, Mark came into the kitchen, Hugh with him.

‘Good morning.' Hugh smiled briefly at Helen, then, walking over to Ruth, placed his hands on her shoulders and stood looking down into her eyes, before kissing her lightly on the lips.

Lucy watched, round-eyed. Then she ran over to Hugh and raised her face, ‘Kiss!'

Laughing, he swung her high into the air, while she squealed excitedly, then kissed her on both cheeks.

When they had finished breakfast, Helen looked across at Hugh challengingly. ‘I'll agree to you and Ruth being married … on one condition,' she stated.

‘Mum!' Ruth was out of her chair, hugging Helen, her grey eyes shining.

‘Hold it … you haven't heard my condition.'

Ruth's arms dropped to her side. ‘It's not about me going to university is it, Mum? Honestly, it wouldn't work. I really don't want to …'

‘It has nothing to do with university,' Helen said quietly. ‘I've had my say about that. I won't drag it up again.'

‘What is the condition, Mrs Woodley?'

Hugh's dark eyes met hers. He looked ready for a battle and she smiled to herself, wondering just what he thought she had in mind.

‘That you and Ruth have a white wedding.'

There was a hushed silence in the kitchen after Helen had spoken. Ruth and Hugh exchanged glances, Mark's brows drew together in a puzzled frown and Lucy crept up to slip her hand in Helen's, conscious that something was being decided but unable to understand what was going on.

‘You mean in church? A long dress and bridesmaids and everything?' Ruth said in an awed voice.

‘One bridesmaid … Lucy.'

‘That will cost a lot of money … we can't afford it!'

‘I can. I've been saving up to help pay your way through university. It's not needed for that now, so we'll spend it on your wedding,' Helen said firmly.

‘Oh, Mum! Does that mean you approve?'

Helen barely hesitated before nodding. ‘On reflection, yes. You have Mark to thank for my change of mind.'

‘Mark!' Ruth looked bewildered.

‘He made me see that I wanted you to go to university because that was what I thought I should have done.'

‘And you want Ruth to have a church wedding because that was something else you should have done?' Hugh asked softly.

Helen felt the colour staining her cheeks as she looked him square in the face. ‘Perhaps. I also think it might help you both to realise the seriousness of the occasion,' she added cuttingly.

For a moment it looked as if the battle between the three of them was about to break out all over again. Quickly Mark summed up the situation and intervened.

‘And I'm going to be the one to give you away, Ruth!' He grinned. ‘Can you see me in top hat and tails?'

‘You can't, you're not old enough,' Ruth told him.

‘There's no one else … except Jim Baines.'

‘Who is Jim Baines?' Hugh asked.

‘The elderly chap who helps out around the place,' Helen told him.

‘Perhaps we should let Mark do the honours then,' Hugh told Ruth. ‘The journey to London might prove a bit too much for an old man like that.'

‘London … who mentioned London?' Helen asked, perplexed.

‘I've agreed to your condition, Mrs Woodley. Now I've one of my own to make,' Hugh informed her gravely. ‘If we are to be married in church, then it will be in the Guards' Chapel at Wellington Barracks.'

‘Oh Hugh … I'd love that!'

Ruth's cry of delight brought the discussion to a close. Helen knew she was getting her own way, but on Hugh's terms. It would probably always be like that, she thought resignedly. She rather liked the fact that he had agreed to compromise without in any way losing face. It was the sort of thing Adam would have done.

Now that the die was cast, Helen entered whole-heartedly into all the plans for the wedding. There were a thousand and one things to be arranged. Hugh undertook to make all the arrangements for the service and Helen was happy to leave that in his hands. She had quite enough to do getting Ruth's wedding-dress and Lucy's bridesmaid's dress ready in time, as well as hiring a grey morning suit for Mark.

Buying an outfit for herself was also more difficult than she had thought. She did so want to look right. In the end, she decided on a matching dress and coat in deep cream slub silk. And, to wear with it, she eventually found the perfect hat, wide-brimmed and in a dramatic shade of deep pink.

‘Hugh's parents are staying in London and meeting you at the Guards' Chapel just before the ceremony starts. That means I won't meet them until after I'm married to Hugh,' Ruth said in a worried voice. ‘That seems all wrong, Mum, doesn't it?'

‘Talk to Hugh about it,' Helen advised. ‘Perhaps you could both spend a couple of days at his home before the wedding.'

‘There isn't time. Hugh wants to save his leave for our honeymoon.'

‘Then the only other thing we can do is to ask them to come and stay here for a few days before the wedding.'

‘Oh, Mum! I'm nervous enough as it is without having strangers around the place,' Ruth wailed. ‘They mightn't even like me!'

Ruth was trying on her wedding-dress as she spoke and Helen felt a lump in her throat. Ruth looked so radiant. The tight-fitting bodice was cut just low enough in the neckline to reveal the tantalising curve of her firm breasts, before billowing out in a froth of lace and tulle. The shoulder-length lace veil, held in place on her dark brown hair with a circlet of tiny white roses, framed her oval face like a halo. Her big grey eyes shone with happiness and her mouth curved in a smile of sheer contentment. How could anyone not like Ruth? Helen thought proudly. Hugh was fortunate to be getting such a lovely bride.

She wished Adam could have been there to see her. Hugh had been right; she had wanted this ceremony because it was something she had forgone. Tears stung her lids as she remembered the grim registry office where she and Adam had been married, and her father's derogatory remarks at the time. Perhaps he had only been expressing the hurt inside him at seeing her make the greatest commitment of her life in such a tawdry fashion.

She pushed the thought away. It hadn't mattered; she and Adam had enjoyed a wonderful marriage. No one could have found a better husband, or a more faithful one. She hoped Ruth would be as lucky.

Ruth's wedding was a picture-book one. A coach-load of friends and relatives came from Sturbury, including Aunt Julia, who was wearing a flowered hat that was far more elaborate than Helen's. Hugh found a moment to introduce his parents to Helen, before taking his place in the front pew alongside a fellow Guardsman, to wait for his bride to arrive.

The Chapel at Wellington Barracks had not long been restored after being hit by a V1 flying bomb in 1944. As she sat admiring the magnificent apse and rich mosaics, which were the only part of the original building to survive, Helen felt the tension within her subside. For the first time since Ruth had returned from Brecon, she felt at peace.

When Ruth entered on Mark's arm, she seemed a little over-awed by so much grandeur. Helen, watching proudly as they made their way slowly down the blue-carpeted aisle, saw her nervousness vanish as soon as she took her place at Hugh's side. Her own heart thudded with past memories as she saw Hugh turn and smile into Ruth's eyes.

In her magnificent white dress and flowing veil, Ruth made a radiant bride. As she stood beside Hugh, who looked resplendent in his red and blue Guards' uniform, Helen found it hard to control her tears. Surreptitiously, she dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a lace-edged hanky and tried to focus her complete attention on the service.

Mark, looking very grown-up in his grey morning suit, took his duties very seriously. His voice seemed to acquire a new depth and authority as he solemnly gave Ruth away.

Lucy looked adorable in a dress of palest blue, a matching cap on her golden curls. She behaved perfectly, sitting motionless on the crimson velvet stool provided for her throughout the long ceremony. She even remembered to take Ruth's bouquet at the right moment.

The sun was brilliant, the sky over London cloudless, when they all moved outside to have photographs taken. The vibrant colours of the Guards' uniforms added to the splendour of the occasion. Passers-by in the road outside stopped to look through the railings and watch the colourful spectacle. Listening to the cameras clicking repeatedly, as guests were re-grouped for more and more pictures, Helen thought wryly of the single picture taken by Aunt Julia that was the only momento she had of her own wedding day.

As they walked across the Parade Square to the Mess where the reception was to be held, Helen found that being back in Army surroundings filled her with nostalgia.

Mark was in his element. He wandered around, immersing himself in the atmosphere, like someone returning home after a long absence. Watching him, Helen knew in her heart that she must resign herself to him enlisting. It was obviously the life he wanted.

Mellowed by the excellent food and witty speeches, the two families began to mix more freely. Helen liked Hugh's parents. They were older than her and she could see that Hugh's mother was worried because Ruth was so young.

‘I was married at eighteen, too,' Helen assured her with a smile.

‘But the Army is a hard life. Hugh's away overseas or on exercises such a lot. A young girl will find it very lonely.' The older woman sighed, shaking her grey head sadly.

‘Ruth knows all about Army life. Her father was in the Guards,' Helen said quietly. ‘We lived in married quarters until about three years ago. Adam, my husband, was killed …' she stopped, unable to go on.

‘My dear, I'm so sorry.' Mrs Edwards patted Helen's hand. ‘I didn't mean to bring up unhappy memories, not at a time like this …' she stopped in confusion.

‘It's all right,' Helen said quietly with a tremulous smile.

When Ruth and Hugh left for their honeymoon, Helen found Mrs Edwards by her side. ‘Hugh will take good care of her,' she said softly in her lilting Welsh accent.

Helen smiled and nodded, returning the pressure of the older woman's hand, too choked to speak.

As she stood holding Lucy's hand as the car taking Ruth and Hugh on the first stage of their honeymoon pulled away, Helen felt Mark's strong arm on her shoulders.

‘We'd better be getting home, hadn't we?' he said firmly. ‘I shan't be going into the Army now, Mum. One soldier in the family is enough. I'm going to try and make something of the farm.'

‘Mum, can Hugh and I come to stay?'

‘Of course, dear. When will you be arriving?'

‘We're at the station, now. Any chance of a lift?'

‘Oh, Ruth! You could have given me some warning!'