a gruff hug she pulled me towards her and then released me. ‘Now get along,’ she said, her voice coming out a little hoarse. I noticed Margaret looking over at her in surprise.
‘Thank you for everything,’ I said, hearing the horn outside go for the second time.
‘Go,’ Paula waved me away with a hand. ‘We won’t be a moment tidying up here, and then we’re off into town.’
Darling Cora,
Tonight something wonderful will happen. And the first person I want to talk about it all with is you. That will never change. I am always thinking of you, my darling, and I know how much you would want to be here with us all.
I love you.
Teddy x
Chapter 31
Love is . . . everything
CLEMENTINE, 86
‘Where are we going?’
Resting my head back against the leather of Howard’s car I felt a warm glow as I thought back to Margaret and Paula appearing in my flat laden with equipment to transform me. I knew Grandma would have loved to be there. She always nagged me to spend more time and care on myself; she adored clothes and dressing up and had been impossibly elegant. The lump that so often formed in my throat when I thought of her was lessened slightly by the fact her friends were still looking out for me.
‘Excited?’ Howard looked across at me.
I nodded, aware suddenly of my leaping stomach and dampening hands.
‘We’re almost there,’ he said.
‘Where?’
He had switched off again, unable to stop the smile forming on his face as he turned the radio up and shifted the car into a higher gear.
We drew up outside a house I didn’t recognise, ivy climbing the walls, no lights on inside.
‘Where are we?’
He didn’t answer me. The day was darkening already, the evenings so much earlier now, lilac and dark blue strips like ribbons in the sky, the sun lost below the line of houses, a few stars visible overhead.
‘Wait there,’ Howard instructed as I reached down for the clutch bag.
I pulled the shawl a little tighter around me as Howard moved round to open my door.
‘Luke asked me to give you this.’
I looked up sharply. Was Luke not here? I had assumed, but perhaps . . . The house seemed still and silent. Howard was holding a long thin box and I took it silently, my hand shaking a little as I pulled at the bow wrapped round it. All this thought and effort . . . it felt surreal to be in the middle of a real-life movie.
Tears pricked my eyes, making the contents blur. I took out a simple silver chain, a pendant in palest pink hanging from it: it would look amazing with the dress.
‘Oh, it’s wonderful,’ I said, immediately reaching round to attach it. The clasp was tiny and I seemed to be all fingers knowing Howard was waiting.
‘He’s a good lad, your one. I don’t normally go in for all this romance, that’s more Arjun and your grandfather, but even I wouldn’t mind being wooed by that Luke Winters. Man’s got class.’
I grinned at Howard, feeling the clasp connect. He proffered his arm. ‘You do look wonderful this evening, Lottie.’ Then he paused, his voice lower. ‘Right then, are you ready?’
I swallowed once and took a step forward: I was.
We stepped up a winding path, lanterns flickering on either side, to a gateway which led to a garden behind the building.
There was a pergola arch, climbing plants and small white flowers entwined around the wooden trellis, the strong smell of lavender from overflowing pots on either side. The arch acted as the perfect frame, a table beyond laid for two people, wine glasses glinting in the soft light, candles flickering on the table and more lanterns scattered on the ground. Luke was standing next to the table, dressed in a shirt I didn’t recognise, a woollen brown dogtooth three-piece suit, a pink handkerchief peeking out of the pocket of the waistcoat, his face breaking into a smile as he stepped forward.
‘Lottie, you look incredible,’ he said, unable to hold back from laughing as he stepped around me. ‘Like a Forties movie star. Your hair is brilliant.’
I felt myself grow hot with the scrutiny. ‘Thanks,’ I mumbled, feeling suddenly shy as he bent to kiss me.
He pulled out a chair for me and it was only as I took a seat that I realised I could hear music playing, the scratchy quality that could only come from an LP, the notes wafting round us at the