A Mother’s Spirit - Anne Bennett

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are times when a woman might like to sleep alone,’ Brian told him. ‘Or when you are home late perhaps, or have to get up early and don’t wish to disturb. Believe me, a separate bed is essential.’

      All of it was out of Joe’s understanding. In the world he came from, when a man and woman married, they bought a double bed and slept in it together thereafter night after night. They made love on it, babies were born on it, small children sometimes shared it and the marriage bed was often the most important purchase ever made.

      He thought of the huge and beautiful bed Brian had ordered. Was it possible that Gloria would lie encased in that magnificent bed all alone, while he lay in another bed, the other side of the wall?

      Brian saw the confusion on Joe’s face. ‘A dressing room and a separate bed were among the first things I insisted on when I married Norah,’ he said. ‘And she has been as grateful as I have been at times. I know that this is all new to you, but trust me in this.’

      ‘Yes, sir,’ Joe said, knowing he had no alternative.

       FIVE

      The news that he was engaged to Gloria Brannigan, Joe found opened doors to him, even if many people did view him with suspicion, doubting his intentions were really honourable. One of those doors was to the club that Brian attended.

      Brian had taken Joe to the club quite a few times but he had always had to sign him in as a guest, but after the engagement he had been made a full member and he enjoyed the privileges this offered, though he always kept well away from the gaming rooms. He had gone in with Brian once and had been appalled at the money gambled away. Brian loved the thrill of it and was a regular, but it left Joe feeling cold and rather odd when he saw Brian raise the stake in a poker game for the amount that the average working man would barely earn in a month of back-breaking work.

      He was amazed too by all the fuss a marriage of this magnitude caused. Norah and Gloria were either poring over fabric patterns for the drapes and discussing colour schemes, or shopping together for Gloria’s trousseau. The wedding dress she was having made seemed to need endless fittings, as did the bridesmaid dresses for three of her school friends. Then there the flowers to choose, cars to order and invitations to send.

      ‘Let them be,’ Brian advised when Joe complained of this. ‘Women and weddings go together like peaches and cream.

      Mind you, we’d better be thinking about ordering our suits soon.’

      ‘I have half a dozen decent suits,’ Joe said. ‘I wasn’t going to go to the expense of buying another. I was just going to buy a new shirt.’

      Brian smiled. ‘You really have got to stop thinking of the expense of things all the time,’ he said. ‘Those days are over for you and, anyway, you haven’t a morning suit or top hat, and that is what will be required on the day.’

      ‘Oh, surely not, sir,’ Joe said.

      ‘I am afraid so. All the men will be dressed the same,’ Brian said. ‘And you will have to think of your best man. Will you be asking the man that sponsored you? Patrick something, wasn’t it?’

      Joe shook his head. ‘The friendship was spoiled between us when I passed my exams and you took me into the house to live. I haven’t seen him since then.’

      ‘Hmm, a pity.’

      ‘A great pity, sir,’ Joe said. ‘But there it is. In fact, the only one in the house that was pleased about my success that time was Planchard, and I think that he will do well enough.’

      Brian nodded. ‘He is a good man. So he will have to get kitted out as well.’

      ‘Couldn’t I just hire a suit, sir?’

      ‘Stop calling me sir,’ Brian said. ‘You will be my son-in-law soon and my name is Brian. No, it would not be good form for you to have a suit on hire. The bridegroom needs his own.’

      ‘But when would I ever need it again, sir?’

      Brian shrugged. ‘Who knows? Another wedding maybe, or other society dos where a morning suit is the appropriate and expected dress. Look,’ he went on as Joe still looked doubtful, ‘on your marriage you will become my business partner. Whatever people say, first impressions count, and so it is important to me that you have the correct clothes to fit these occasions.’

      It was the first time a partnership had been mentioned and though Joe was undoubtedly pleased he was also a little unnerved. But if Brian had decided then that was how it would be, he knew, and it would be another change in his life that he would eventually get used to.

      The morning of the wedding, 16 October 1926, Joe was spirited out of the house and into the white limousine to take him to the church early, lest he should cast his eyes on Gloria’s dress before the service and so bring bad luck upon the marriage. His morning suit felt stiff and uncomfortable, and he marvelled that Planchard looked so good in his. Brian was right, though, Joe noticed, as the car pulled up in front of the church and he saw some of the guests arriving: the women were dressed in a variety of outfits, but the men, without exception, were wearing morning suits. He would have looked decidedly out of place in anything else.

      The church was filling up nicely as he and Planchard walked side by side down the aisle to sit in the pews to the right and await the bride. Joe felt as if all his nerve endings were exposed and he found it very hard to sit still.

      ‘You’re like a cat on hot bricks, sir,’ Planchard said.

      ‘I know,’ Joe said. ‘It’s the waiting. I never could abide waiting. You sure you’ve got the ring safe?’

      ‘We checked before we left the house, remember?’ Planchard said with a smile.

      ‘Just wanted to be certain.’

      ‘Relax.’

      ‘God, I only wish I could,’ Joe said. ‘We seem to have been sitting here for ages.’ But then the strains of the Wedding March could be heard, and he followed Planchard out of the pew to stand before the altar. Behind him, he could hear the shuffling of feet as people stood, and he was aware of sniffing and snuffling as some women began to cry.

      He turned and watched Gloria, on the arm of her father, walking slowly towards him. She looked so lovely, so utterly radiant, that he felt as if his heart had stopped beating for a moment or two and he knew he loved her with all his heart and would do so till the breath left his body. He stepped forward to stand beside her. Her father released her into Joe’s care and Gloria passed her bouquet to one of her bridesmaids. Then, taking each other’s hand, they kneeled together at the rails as the Nuptial Mass began.

      Joe was pleased, walking out of the church with his new bride on his arm, to see so many had come to wish them well. As it was Saturday the factory was closed. Bert Clifford and his wife had reserved seats towards the front, but Joe was touched to see how many other employees had turned out too.

      There were others from the church, and some of the men he knew from the club, with their wives and families. He saw many of the men’s eyes were on Gloria and he knew that more than a few would be envious of him.

      Kate had surpassed herself with the sumptuous meal she had prepared. She might not approve of the wedding at all but she was too proud of her culinary skills to produce anything substandard. The centrepiece was a four-tier wedding cake. Brian cracked open wines he had laid down in the cellar before prohibition began, and a fine time was had by all.

      Joe and Gloria were spending that night in their suite of rooms in the Brannigan house before setting off the following day for a fortnight’s honeymoon at Lake George in the Adirondack Mountains. Brian had highly recommended the location, where he had been himself as a young man.

      All in all, the day had been almost perfect and Joe settled in his bed that night with a sigh of contentment. Gloria went into his arms willingly and when he

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