When Wishes Come True (3 page)

Dusk was falling as they sat with their arms entwined, wondering if they would ever see each other again. Charles rained kisses on Evelyn’s face and promised to write to her every day, but that was little comfort to her, and tears trickled slowly down her face. ‘Don’t cry, my dearest darling.’ Charles pulled her closer. With her body pressed against his, he could feel a stirring inside him. He tried to resist the urge, but need took him beyond the point of no return. Evelyn was taken by surprise at first and tried to pull away, but the thought that in a few days he would be going off to war caused her to cease her resistance. If she spurned him now, he would go away thinking she didn’t love him, and she couldn’t bear that.

When his passion was spent, Charles was full of remorse. ‘Oh, I am so sorry, my dearest, what have I done to you? I have disgraced myself and am so ashamed I throw myself on your mercy. You will forgive me? Remember, I love you so much I couldn’t help myself. But we’ll get married on my first leave, I promise. In fact, I travelled up today with another officer and he told me he was getting married tomorrow by special dispensation. Apparently if a soldier is being sent overseas, he and his fiancée can be married by special licence …’

‘But I can’t get married so quickly,’ Evelyn protested. ‘I haven’t a wedding dress to get married in!’

‘My darling sweetheart, you don’t need a wedding dress to be married in a registry office! All you need are two witnesses, and I’m sure that will be no problem.’ Charles was warming to the idea. ‘I’ll drive you home now and ask your father for your hand in marriage. If he gives his consent, I’ll go and tell my parents. My mother will probably have a fit of the vapours and faint, and I don’t think Father will be too pleased. I’m sure both of them would like a big, extravagant, high-society wedding for their only child, but I’ll remind them there is a war on and many people are doing things they wouldn’t normally do. I’ll bring them around, I always do, then I’ll meet you in the city centre tomorrow and buy you the engagement and wedding ring of your choice.’

Evelyn’s parents were delighted. What a feather in their cap for their daughter to have landed such a good catch! And they didn’t mind at all that the wedding was going to be a registry office affair, for, as Charles said, there was a war on. When their future son-in-law had left to break the news to his own parents, Mr Wilkinson was so full of good will towards his daughter he pulled her chair nearer the grate and, taking the tongs from the companion set, placed three extra pieces of coal on the fire before rubbing his hands with glee.

However, the news wasn’t so well received at the Lister-Sinclairs’ home. As Charles had predicted, his mother reacted by falling back in her chair and lifting the back of one hand to her forehead. Her other hand was holding a fine, soft linen handkerchief edged with lace, which she waved at her husband while in a tearful voice demanding her bottle of sal volatile fearing she would faint. With a deep sigh, Cyril rang for the maid. He loved his wife, but did wish she had some backbone instead of always behaving like a child. He wasn’t too pleased with the news his son had brought either, having always thought that when his only child married it would be the wedding of the year in their social circle. But the sight of Charles looking so handsome in his Captain’s uniform, and the knowledge that in a few days his beloved son could be facing the enemy, was enough for him to keep his views to himself.

‘Father, would you make some enquiries on how to go about obtaining a dispensation and special licence?’ Charles asked. ‘You’re so much better at getting things done quickly than I am. And I’m meeting Evelyn in town tomorrow to buy the rings.’

Cyril nodded. ‘I’ll make a few phone calls in the morning and get what information I can. But you will only have two full days, and I can’t imagine having the necessary papers completed in that time.’

‘Two days and a half, Father. My train doesn’t leave until one o’clock on Thursday.’ Both men turned their heads at the tinkling of the silver bell which Mrs Lister-Sinclair kept on her side table. They watched the maid enter the room, and heard her being told her mistress would like to retire as she was feeling quite light-headed. When his wife had left the room, leaning heavily on the maid’s arm and sobbing as though her heart was breaking, Cyril asked if there was anything else he could do to help his son.

Charles leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on his knees. Gazing down at the floor, it was a few seconds before he spoke. ‘This is frightfully forward of me, Father, and I would understand if you refused. But I would be so grateful if you would buy a house for Evelyn and me, as a wedding present. While I’m away she could be making it into a home for when the war is over and I’m back with her again. I really would like to know we had a place of our own, it would give me something to look forward to.’

Cyril was thoughtful for a few seconds, then sighed. This was a far cry from what he’d wanted for his son. ‘I know there are one or two suitable houses empty in Princes Avenue. This confounded war has caused many people to move to the country. If that’s what you want, I will certainly set the wheels in motion. You know I love you dearly and would move heaven and earth to make you happy. Everything I have will be yours eventually, and I’ll be so proud when you take over the reins.’

‘Thank you, Father, you are very kind and I admire and love you in return. When the time comes for you to retire – which I trust will not be for a very long while – I will do my best to make you proud of me. But if meanwhile you could settle Evelyn in a house, and look after her welfare, it would take a weight off my shoulders.’

Again Cyril was thoughtful for a few seconds before saying, ‘I will purchase a house, furnish it, and make sure Evelyn has everything she needs. But I do think it would be best if I had my name put on the deeds. Only as a precaution, in case you came home and found you didn’t like the house. You would have no ties to the property then and could look for another you think you would be happy in, and where you would like to raise your children.’

Charles lowered his head to hide the flush of guilt. ‘Thank you, Father.’

So the following day, while Charles and Evelyn strolled down Church Street towards the jeweller’s, their arms linked and their eyes gazing lovingly at each other, Cyril Lister-Sinclair was trying to arrange their wedding. After many phone calls, and taking advantage of his standing in the city, he managed to extract promises that the papers needed would be ready at five-thirty on Wednesday. Then, making a telephone call to the registry office, he was told they were booked solid for the whole week. However, when he mentioned his name and used a little persuasion they agreed to fit his son and fiancée in at half-past-eleven on the Thursday morning. No amount of coaxing would make the registrar’s secretary change her mind about this. There were so many servicemen wanting to be married, she had to be fair to them all. Mr Lister-Sinclair was lucky she’d managed to fit his son in at all.

Charles didn’t let his disappointment show, for he knew he was lucky being able to marry before going back to camp. But it would give them only an hour and a half in which to get married and then head for the train station where he would catch the one o’clock train. There was no time to invite friends or even let them know, and both sets of parents declined to attend on the grounds that the whole affair was too rushed. Charles’ mother said wild horses wouldn’t drag her there because it was so degrading that a son of hers was being married in a registry office – oh, the shame of it! And when the Wilkinsons heard the Lister-Sinclairs were not attending, they made the same excuse. If Charles’ parents had been going, they would have jumped at the chance of meeting the man who would soon be almost like family to them, and who they were hoping would help them up the ladder to social acceptance and wealth.

So the young couple were married with Evelyn’s friend Gwen, and Oscar, a friend of Charles, acting as witnesses. They made a handsome bridal pair, with Charles looking handsome in his Captain’s uniform and Evelyn in a fashionable short beige coat, a lighter beige cloche hat, and carrying a posy of flowers. It was a quarter-past twelve when they came out of the registry office, leaving them tight for time. Charles hailed a taxi and they reached the station with just enough time for last embraces, tearful kisses and vows to love each other for ever. Then Evelyn, accompanied by Gwen and Oscar, was waving goodbye to Charles through the steam and noise of the train taking him away.

Charles’ father kept his promise to his son, and two weeks after the wedding Evelyn received a telephone call from her father-in-law asking her to meet him at the house in Princes Avenue which he felt sure she would like. And he was right, because she loved the wide avenue, with its three-storey red brick houses. The one he’d bought was handsome with an imposing entrance hall and a wide, curved staircase. Magnificent furniture graced the rooms on the first two floors of the house. What excited Evelyn the most, was that this was her means of getting away from her grasping parents. Cyril said he would give her a very generous monthly allowance and would also pay for the services of a live-in maid as the house was far too big for her to live in alone. In the days that followed, Evelyn had never been so happy in her life with her newfound freedom and very comfortable life style. The allowance from her father-in-law was three times what she’d earned at the office, and as he paid all the bills, too, she saw no point in working and gave in her notice.

Gwen was the only visitor to the house, for Evelyn discouraged her parents from visiting. But she didn’t feel lonely, she revelled in the unaccustomed luxury and in being waited on by the maid, Eliza. Charles had been gone eight weeks, and although he had written to her from the camp before his unit was shipped out, she hadn’t heard from him since. She wasn’t particularly worried because Gwen had told her letters were taking months to get through, and because Evelyn was so content with her life of luxury, she gave little thought to anyone but herself and how lucky she was. Until the morning she experienced a feeling of nausea, followed by vomiting. It was only then she thought back and realised she’d missed the last two periods.

She took to her bed, telling Eliza she had a headache and would ring if she needed her. That she was with child she never doubted, but she didn’t want a child, not now when she was enjoying the good things in life. Then, gazing up at the decorative ceiling in the huge, richly furnished bedroom, an idea formed in her head. She didn’t want a child, she didn’t feel in the least maternal, but perhaps that was the very thing that would make her mother-in-law warm towards her. If Evelyn was carrying her son’s child, surely they would become closer – friends even? Of course they would, a grandchild would put a different complexion on their relationship. Feeling light-hearted in anticipation of now being taken into the bosom of the wealthiest family in Liverpool, Evelyn slipped her legs over the side of the bed and reached for the telephone on the ornate bedside table.

With the ear-piece in one hand, she was ready to dial when she gave a low cry and quickly changed her mind. Her face drained of colour, she sat back on the bed. How could she tell Charles’ parents she was expecting his baby when officially they had never slept together? And she couldn’t lie to them about it because they knew the young couple, with their friends, had gone straight from the registry office to the train station. Evelyn would have lied through her teeth if it would have got her out of this trouble, but no amount of lying would help her now. It was all Charles’ fault, she should not have let him have his way with her. Her temper high now, Evelyn had no one to take it out on but the maid. So she pulled on the velvet bell cord. When Eliza entered the room she was ordered to draw the curtains as her mistress had a headache, then she was to fetch up a pot of strong tea.

It was Gwen who first remarked on Evelyn’s expanding waistline and fuller face. ‘Would I be right in saying someone has been doing things no respectable woman should?’

Evelyn’s face turned crimson, but she tried to talk her way out of an embarrassing situation. ‘Are you not forgetting I’m a perfectly respectable married woman?’

‘Come off it, Eve,’ Gwen drawled. She was quite happy to see her friend looking uncomfortable because she was tired of hearing how rich the Lister-Sinclairs were, and how wonderful life would be when Charles came home, and how they would always be giving lavish parties. ‘Don’t forget it’s me you’re talking to, and I know you too well to fall for any balderdash. If you are pregnant, then Charles can’t possibly be the father. So come on, out with it, who have you been dallying with?’

Evelyn knew it would be no use pretending, she was in trouble no matter which way she turned. ‘It
is
Charles’ baby! I was stupid for allowing him to have his way with me before we were married.’ She had the grace to blush. ‘I felt sorry for him with him being sent overseas, and now I don’t know which way to turn. I never see my parents, which is the way I want it, but what am I going to say to my father-in-law when he comes? He’s due any time now with my monthly allowance, and you were quick enough to notice so he’s bound to.’

‘I imagine you’ll meet some hurdles, Eve, because how can you prove it’s Charles’ baby? Mrs L.S. doesn’t like you to begin with, so she’s bound to cause problems.’

‘Charles will soon put them straight when he comes home. And I hope that’s soon because it’s very embarrassing for me. Do you think I should explain to my father-in-law when he comes, tell him the truth? Or should I wear something that doesn’t make it obvious and hope that the war will soon be over?’

Gwen shrugged her shoulders. ‘That’s up to you, Eve, I can’t advise you.’ She got to her feet. ‘I’ll have to go, I’m off to a cocktail party with Oscar. His parents are almost as wealthy as the Lister-Sinclairs, but I don’t think I’ll be letting him have his wicked way with me. Not until I have a wedding ring on my finger.’ She swaggered towards the door. ‘You take care, darling, and I’ll call next week for the latest news.’