Legacy of Greyladies (25 page)

They began to cheer and clap one another on the shoulders. Women hugged, children danced up and down yelling, men roared in triumph.

Then that noise died down too as sanity returned in a wave of murmurs. They were smiling, nodding, bearing themselves like the victors they were.

‘What wonderful people!’ Olivia whispered to Alex. ‘I feel honoured to be coming to live among them.’

‘This is a wonderful place. Will you marry me and let me live here with you?’

She smiled. ‘What a time to propose!’

‘I couldn’t wait. And where better to propose than here at Greyladies?’

‘Yes. Where better?’ Then she noticed the blood seeping from beneath the handkerchief. ‘Come on! We’ve got to get you to the doctor. I’m sure that will need stitching up.’

By the time two lorries full of soldiers arrived, the danger was past and people from the village were dispersing.

‘So you managed to quell the riot without help, sir?’ the captain in charge said.

‘I didn’t quell it. The whole village turned out, armed with saucepans, hammers and even damned rolling pins. Must have been two or three hundred of them, shouting to the mob to get out of their village. I’ve never seen anything like it.’

But then, he thought, he’d never seen anything like Greyladies, either. Its legacy was strange in many ways, but full of loving kindness, bringing out the best in people. He’d miss the old house in many ways, much as he was longing to return to his own home.

Before he could do that, however, Britain still had a war to win and the internees here were a part of some less well-known initiatives that would contribute to that.

‘No trouble from the internees?’ the captain asked.

‘Trouble? These lot are on our side. They were ready to fight the mob by our side, too. Not all Germans want war, believe me, and the government is benefitting greatly from that.’

‘Jolly good show, sir. Um – do you think you’ll need any more help?’

‘There are one or two prisoners you could take away. Apart from that, we’ll look after ourselves.’

It was full daylight before he could take the opportunity to rest. He found Phoebe in bed fast asleep and lay down beside her with a sigh.

Once the doctor had sewed up Alex’s cheek and warned him not to bang it or try to shave until the stitches had been taken out, Olivia and Alex returned to the old house and took possession of a sofa in the long room.

They cuddled close to one another, talking or falling silent, discussing what they would do next.

‘How soon can we marry?’ he asked.

‘As soon as you like. There’s no reason to wait.’

‘Good. We’ll buy a special licence.’

‘Where shall we live?’ she asked.

‘Until Phoebe and her husband move out, we can either take over your house in Swindon—’ He broke off as she grimaced. ‘Too many memories?’

‘Yes. I want to make a new start with you, darling.’

‘Then I’ll buy my mother’s house from my cousin and we’ll live there until Phoebe and Corin are ready to leave. I just want to say … I’ve never been as happy in my whole life, Olivia. Never. Even in my wildest dreams, I couldn’t have believed I’d find someone like you, someone who would want me, love me, marry me.’

‘I didn’t think I’d find someone else to love.’

‘Do you think your Charles would have approved of me?’

‘I’m sure he would. He was never mean about anything and he’d want me to remarry. But I don’t think you realise what a lovely man you are.’ Her voice became teasing. ‘What if I’m only marrying you for your money?’

‘Then I’ll give it all to you. Every penny. But I know you’re not.’

They broke off to smile at one another in the soft light of a single oil lamp, the way only lovers can smile. She nestled down against his right shoulder, made a soft, happy sound and fell asleep between one breath and the next.

He felt like a king.

Tired though he was, he didn’t fall asleep, but sat and smiled down at her lovely sleeping face.

He didn’t need Anne Latimer’s ghost to tell him he’d be happy married to Olivia. She was the most wonderful woman in the whole world and he was the luckiest man to have won her love.

Challerton parish church was so full some people had to stand outside, and though it was a chilly day, the sun was shining brightly.

The groom arrived first, as was only proper, driven by a chauffeur and more nervous than he’d ever been in his life. When Alex got out of the car, he found a lady he didn’t recognise waiting for him near the church door.

She stepped forward, smiling. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Harriet Latimer, a former chatelaine of Greyladies. Joseph and I didn’t arrive until late yesterday evening, so there was no opportunity to meet you before, as you were staying with Miss Bowers.’

‘Phoebe told us about you. She wasn’t sure whether you could get here in time, given wartime travelling conditions. I’m delighted to meet you.’

‘My husband is waiting for the bride, since he’s giving her away today.’

Alex’s nervousness began to dissipate at the warmth of her smile. It seemed he’d be acquiring several new relatives through his marriage.

‘It’ll be lovely to see our newest chatelaine start her life here by getting married,’ Harriet said. ‘You can’t have too many joyful occasions in the middle of a war. I don’t think any chatelaine has started her life here by getting married before. I’m sure Miss Bowers will know whether that’s true.’ She took Alex’s arm. ‘I’ve been asked to escort you down the aisle and show you where to stand.’

‘Can’t Corin get here? Do I need to find another best man?’

‘He’s here, but he only arrived a few minutes ago, so he has to change his clothes. I came on ahead and he’ll be with us soon.’

‘Have you seen Olivia this morning? How is she?’

‘Happy. And she’ll make the loveliest bride with such a beautiful wedding dress.’

‘It won’t be nearly as beautiful as its wearer. Phoebe told me they’d found the perfect dress in the attic at Greyladies and Olivia knew someone in Swindon who could alter it to fit her. I’m not allowed to see it till she walks down the aisle, though.’

The verger cleared his throat. ‘Excuse me interrupting, but it would be helpful to get the bridegroom seated, Mrs Latimer. And may I say how lovely it is to see you again.’

‘It’s lovely to be here. Come along, Alex.’

As they turned to go into the church, Corin and Phoebe came through the churchyard to join them, having taken a shortcut through the gardens of the big house. He held out a perfect white rose. ‘Look what I found blooming. A miracle winter rose. Put it in your buttonhole, Alex. It’s a gift from Greyladies.’

Alex did as he was told, then allowed Corin to escort him
down the aisle, while the two ladies followed them. People called out good wishes again and again as he passed – some of them he knew and others were complete strangers. The whole village seemed happy today, he thought in wonder.

He paused by Mildred and Edwin, sitting in the second pew on his side of the church, not saying anything, his heart was too full.

Mildred beamed at him and he inclined his head, then noticed Babs sitting on the other side of them.

‘I don’t need to wish you happy,’ she said, ‘because I’m sure you will be. It shines out of you.’

No one in the whole world had ever been as happy as he was today, he thought, taking his place in the front pew.

As they waited for the bride to arrive, he only half-heard Corin’s remarks because he was listening for her, wouldn’t feel this was real till he saw his beloved Olivia. He couldn’t help fingering his scar. The stitches had been taken out, but it was still red and raw.

A badge of honour, people said. He didn’t care what they called it. He’d got it saving his future wife’s life.

Olivia stared at herself in the mirror, twisting and turning in front of it. She was delighted with her wedding dress, made from a gown of the 1830s that had been found in one of the attic trunks. As a concession to the fact that she was a widow marrying for the second time, she’d deliberately chosen to wear a cream-coloured day dress, not a long white wedding gown. She wanted everything to be different about this wedding.

The skirt was a full four yards round the hem and ended in a lace trim about six inches above the ground. The
seamstress doing the alterations had assured her that this was the very latest fashion, as well as being practical for walking. She had a slender belt in pale-pink satin and a little lace over-jacket, also in pink.

She wasn’t wearing a veil but a wide-brimmed hat with pale-pink and cream silk roses around the crown. It was, she thought, the most flattering hat she’d ever owned, though if she wore it to church on Sundays she’d block the view of the people behind her.

It’d be hard to give her new husband the traditional wedding kiss while wearing it, but she was quite sure they’d manage.

There was a knock on the door and she heard a man call out, ‘Nearly ready, Olivia?’

‘Absolutely ready.’ She picked up her little mother-of-pearl purse on its silver chain. It was designed to be carried to balls but it suited her very well today, because it held a lace handkerchief and a small silver comb.

Joseph was waiting for her outside, beaming. His mouth went into an O shape at the sight of her.

‘You make a beautiful bride, my dear.’

‘Thank you. And you look very elegant, Joseph.’ She felt as if she’d known him all her life, though she’d only met him once before today. But it was like that with the chatelaines who’d preceded her at Greyladies as well. Both of them and their husbands had immediately felt like close family.

Joseph’s car was waiting outside, though it was only a short walk to the church and there was no sign of rain. He had a bad hip, which made him limp and move slowly, and she didn’t want to arrive looking windblown.

As she got out of the car outside the church, she found
herself facing a crowd of women. They swayed forward as if they wanted to rush towards her, but didn’t. Such a row of smiling faces. They called out best wishes in the lovely rolling Wiltshire accent she loved and she called back her thanks.

And then she was in church, music was playing and she was walking down the aisle to Alex, walking slowly when she wanted to run into his arms.

The wedding itself seemed to be taking place at a great distance until the reality of the vicar’s words made her look at her new husband with eyes brimming with happy tears.

‘You may kiss the bride.’

Alex had to bend his head sideways to get past the hat and they both smiled involuntarily as their lips met.

Then he stepped back, offered her his arm and they went to sign the church register.

Alex had even found a photographer to record this happy day, so she posed and moved as told, growing more impatient by the minute.

When they got into the car, she sighed in relief. ‘Such a lot of fuss when
you
are the most important part of my day, darling Alex, not the dress or even the reception at Greyladies.’

‘I feel the same. But we’ll allow them to fete us and share our happiness.’

As they entered through the new part of the house, they passed between two lines of internees, more smiling faces and congratulations.

Once they were inside the old part of the house, time itself seemed suddenly to pause as the familiar light glowed at the top of the stairs.

This time Anne Latimer came slowly down to greet them and welcome them to their new home. ‘
You will be happy here
,’ she promised as she had before.

No one else seemed to notice that they’d stopped or that the family ghost had appeared, and when Anne stepped back and faded from sight, they continued walking.

With her welcome ringing sweetly in their ears, they went into the old hall to receive their wedding guests and start their new life.

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A
NNA
J
ACOBS
is the author of over sixty novels and is addicted to storytelling. She grew up in Lancashire, emigrated to Australia in the 1970s and writes stories set in both countries. She loves to return to England regularly to visit her family and soak up the history. She has two grown-up daughters and a grandson, and lives with her husband in a spacious home near the Swan Valley, the earliest wine-growing area in Western Australia. Her house is crammed with thousands of books.  

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