Elizabeth Elgin - The Linden Walk

‘ Sir Andrew,’ Mary corrected primly, ‘is at Foxgloves, with Daisy. Be talking about the wedding, I shouldn’t wonder. I suppose there’ll be nothing, now, but wedding talk. Wonder when it’ll be?’

‘Your guess, love, is as good as mine, though I hope they’ll wait for summer.’

Summer, Tilda thought. A June wedding and Rowangarth garden in all its glory. Flowers everywhere, warm sunny days, a marquee on the lawn and the special white orchids flowering. And herself rushed off her feet and loving every minute of it.

Tilda Willis was a very happy and contented woman. She’d had a long and anxious wait, mind, but Mr Right had turned up in the form of an Army Sergeant who was guarding whatever went on at Pendenys during the war, though no one would rightly ever know, she sighed. But yes. A very happy woman.

‘I phoned Lyn, last night. Managed to catch her before she went home from work.’

‘And does she still love you, bruv?’ Daisy smiled. ‘It’s still on, then?’

‘Love me? I – I suppose she does. Actually, Daiz, I didn’t ask.’

‘Didn’t ask , you great daft lummox; didn’t tell her you loved her?’

‘Actually – no. But she knows I do.’

‘Maybe so, but a girl likes to be told. Often!’

‘Sorry. Just that it’s going to take a bit of time getting used to it. It happened so suddenly. One minute I was escorting the lady home and the next, there I was, engaged.’

‘Hm.’ That hadn’t been Lyn’s version, Daisy considered, but what the heck? ‘She’ll have written to you?’ Letters could say more than words.

‘She has. In the post. I should get it tomorrow. And she’s written to Kenya, too. Sent a cable first, of course.’

‘I wish she was on the phone. I’ve got to wait for her to ring me. There’s so much we have to talk about.’

‘Then it’s going to have to keep till Friday, Daiz. That’s when she’s coming. Lyn was owed a shift by one of the other receptionists, so she’s called it in. I’ll be meeting her at York in the afternoon. Mother is going to the bank to get the rings out, on Thursday. Reckon we’ll both feel a bit more engaged when Lyn has got a ring on her finger.’

‘So you don’t feel very engaged at the moment, Drew?’

‘Of course I do. Only it’s like I said, everything happened so suddenly. I still can’t believe it – that I was so long in asking her, I mean. But we can talk about things at the weekend. It’ll work itself out.’

‘Yes. When you’ve had time to get used to it! But Lyn’s had all the time in the world to get used to it , as you say. The girl has been in love with you since the year dot! What’s the matter with you, Drew Sutton? Why aren’t you throwing your cap in the air? You aren’t having second thoughts, because if you are –’ her narrowed eyes met his across the kitchen table ‘– then all I can say is …’

‘Daisy, I am not having second thoughts! I’m going to marry Lyn, only it’s a bit up in the air at the moment. But we’ll talk about the wedding and by the time Lyn goes back to Llangollen, she’ll have a ring on her finger and we’ll have fixed a date.’

‘Oh – well – that’s all right, then,’ Daisy conceded. ‘A summer wedding would be lovely. Keth and I planned a summer wedding. The day after my twenty-first birthday it would have been, but for the dratted Army sending him back to Washington without so much as a by-your-leave or a quick forty-eight hours’ leave pass for us to get married. You and Lyn shouldn’t hang about.’

‘Daisy, love, there isn’t a war on, now. There’s all the time in the world for us to make plans. As a matter of fact, I do think a June wedding would be fine. Mother thinks so, too. But it’ll be what Lyn wants. She might want it to be soon – have a quiet wedding like Tatty and Bill are having. Mind, I hope she won’t. Pity no one is allowed to go abroad, yet. A honeymoon in Paris would have been great.’

‘Hard luck, bruv! When Keth and I were married Paris was occupied by Hitler’s lot. We made do with Winchester. But I don’t think where is important. Being together – married – is all that matters.’

‘Agreed. So are you going to put the kettle on? Tilda told me there were cherry scones left over from the christening. You wouldn’t have one left?’

‘I am, and I would. And you can have a couple. You used to adore cherry scones when you were little. I remember Mrs Shaw making them, and you nibbling the scone away till there was just the cherry left in the middle.’

‘You used to nibble too, Daiz. We all did, except Bas. He used to eat his cherry first so Kitty wouldn’t pinch it – and, oh dear …’

‘Yes. Kitty. You said her name, then looked all embarrassed and it’s got to stop. No one should be afraid to say her name, Drew. Kitty happened and she’s still with us because she was one of the Clan. She was a part of our growing up, and nothing can change it.’

‘Granted. And it was fine talking about her, until now. Lyn, I mean.’

‘You think she’ll be jealous? But why should she be? Tatty talks about Tim, still, and Bill accepts it as perfectly normal. Why should Lyn be any different?’

‘Sorry. You’re right, Daiz. Lyn isn’t the jealous sort, is she?’

‘Are you asking me, or telling me? Actually, she could be quite jealous of the Clan. She called it “Your precious Clan”. And once I caught her looking at the photo of us all – the one Aunt Julia took the Christmas before war started. She had quite a funny look in her eyes as if she wanted to be a part of it, yet was glad she wasn’t. Maybe she envied our closeness. Or maybe it was our growing up together. We did have a charmed life, you’ve got to admit it, Drew.’

‘I know. Wonderful days. But surely Lyn can be a part of it, now? Married to me, she’d qualify.’

‘No, she can’t. No one can. Kitty’s leaving it doesn’t mean there’s a vacancy. The Clan was our youth. No one is ever lost to it, and no one can ever join it. Not now. It was something – well, unique …’

‘And precious. When I was overseas and sometimes at sea for weeks on end and the heat unbearable, I’d think about the Clan, and where we used to meet.’

‘Mm. In the wild garden. And in summer we’d lie in the grass under the trees and talk and talk. I used to think about the Clan, too. I remember when Liverpool was blitzed, night after night. Lyn and I were two of the lucky ones. We were three floors underground, and protected by reinforced concrete. The safest place around. But when we saw the devastation it was horrifying, and we all had to shut our minds to it. Thinking of the Clan helped a lot.’

‘So am I allowed to nibble my scone – just one last time?’

‘You are,’ Daisy laughed, glad that they were back on an even keel again. ‘And I won’t pinch your cherry.’

‘Good old Daiz.’ Drew laughed with her, then said, ‘That’s the baby crying. Go to her – she sounds upset.’

‘It’s all right. Probably only just wind. I’ll bring her in and you can put her over your shoulder and pat her back. It’s quite rewarding when you get a burp out of her and you’ve got to learn how it’s done, Drew Sutton.’ She hurried out to return with a red-faced baby who had all at once stopped crying. ‘Ooh, the little madam. She only wanted attention. Here you are. Give her a cuddle.’

And Drew took his goddaughter who felt incredibly small and fragile in his arms and thought about the children Lyn so desperately wanted, and how good it would be, making them together. Tenderly he patted the little back and Mary Natasha nuzzled his neck then obliged with a burp which made him feel immensely proud and think that maybe after all, Lyn could be quite right. Having a baby – babies – might not be half bad.