Alice shifted in her seat, trying to change the pattern of her thoughts. And failing miserably – because – there was another thing…once she was Sam’s wife, what would she do with herself while he was working all day and perhaps half the night? Alice had never known what it was to be idle…to Alice, and her mother before her, work was life and life was work. Should she get a job? There’d be no shortage of opportunities anywhere, because good clerical staff was always at a premium, she knew that. But what if Sam didn’t want her to work after they were married? What if he would always expect her to be home whenever he came off duty? But that would mean hours and hours of twiddling her thumbs – which would drive her mad…
Alice clasped and unclasped her bag, giving her hands something to do as she thought about it all. She really must talk to Sam about this, sooner rather than later. And tell him – let him be aware – that she was not just little Alice, the ex-employee he’d fallen in love with, and who he wanted by his side at all times. After all, she had gained her independence a long time ago, she’d survived the war, which had had its effect on her – and on so many others – in unexpected ways. She had learned how to do so many things working on a farm, had met new friends, had had new experiences, had been in charge of a prestigious estate agency, had had her life opened up…in fact, she realized, she had learned what she was capable of. Everything was different now. She was different.
Then something else crossed her mind as she leaned forward and peered into the gloom of the evening. What about that novel? Her novel? The novel she’d promised her mother she’d write one day? Perhaps fate – or Lady Luck – was going to give her the chance to have some time to actually complete it at last…if it was what she really wanted to do.
Alice had always been an avid reader, and a furious scribbler – which, so, far, had resulted in having had just one short story accepted for a woman’s magazine before the war. She cringed as she thought about that letter she’d sent to the fiction editor of a small publishing house in Bristol, asking that he should publish a short story she was submitting for his kind attention. As if! She had been just ten years old, and had been convinced that she was to see her words in print – straightaway with no delay! But his reply had been so kind, making suggestions on how she could improve her writing, and urging her not to give up on her dream of becoming a famous writer. Alice remembered how she had told them that one day she hoped to join the ranks of Jane Austen, or one of the Brontës. How they must have laughed at that. The innocence, the naïve self-assurance of childhood…
By now, all Alice could see in the darkness was the vague reflection of herself in the window pane as she stared out at nothing. Perhaps, next year, or the year after, she might really have the time to pursue her ambition…but before she could even begin to think along those lines there was all this other stuff ahead of her. All the hurdles and jumps ahead before she became Sam’s wife…
She shuddered as she thought, again, about the wedding day. It was supposed to be the day every girl looked forward to, wasn’t it? But she was already dreading it! She bit her lip. Everything would have been all right if her darling Papa had been here to give her away – and Oh golly, help! Who was going to give her away? She’d only just thought of that! And straight off – there was no one. No one she could think of who might be suitable or appropriate for that particular post…no one at all.
By now, Alice was almost wringing her hands at all her contemplation. But…if only she’d seen Sam this weekend…a few hours yesterday would have been enough, because when she was with him she felt so secure, so confident, so at ease with herself and everything around her.
They were coming into the station now, and Alice stood up, sliding the compartment door open and going into the corridor. There was little to see outside, just a few rather dreary lights piercing the gloom. But soon she would be home, with time to relax and put all her worries to the back of her mind for a while. And she was looking forward to work tomorrow…work was uncomplicated, usually straightforward, nothing emotional going on there.
The train pulled in and came to a stop, and as she alighted, Alice thought that perhaps, after all, it was good that she and Sam couldn’t see so much of each other all the time, like other engaged couples usually do. Life was giving her plenty of space – which was probably what she needed after all.
Alice felt listless when she woke the following morning, despite having had a reasonably good night’s sleep – though not before she’d tossed and turned, thinking about her future – a future that seemed to have taken on ridiculous proportions.
Presently, in the kitchen making her tea and toast, she heard the postman at the door, heard the brief plop of a letter falling on the mat. And at once she went out into the hall to see who had written to her. Picking up the envelope, a warm rush of pleasure ran right through her.
Sam had written to her. It was Sam’s writing on the envelope.
My own dearest darling Alice
I’ve been feeling really miserable the last couple of days. Isn’t that strange – when really I am on top of the world. But it has been hard to concentrate on anything. And I know why. It’s because I haven’t seen you for over a week, and it’s going to be another whole one before we are together again. I don’t know if I can wait that long. I shouldn’t have to wait that long.
Ever since I put that ring on your finger, all I want is just to be with you…to be close to you. When I am supposed to be thinking of work, all I am doing is thinking about you, thinking of your lovely face and of the funny things you say that make me smile. I am so, so, so lucky that you really have agreed to be mine, Alice. I still can’t quite believe it.
We’ll be together next weekend, won’t we, and it cannot come quickly enough for me. But instead of me coming to Dorchester, will you come to Clifton instead? We could go for a long walk on the Downs again, like we used to, and just talk and talk and make each other laugh, and of course start thinking about our immediate future. We do have certain things to discuss!
Let me know if you agree, and I will tell Betty we’re coming home – you know how much pleasure it gives her to indulge us with her spectacular cooking.
Until Saturday, my sweetest Alice – all my love –
Sam
He was waiting for her at Temple Meads as they pulled in. Alice saw him standing there on the platform as she looked out of the window, his familiar figure, the turn of his handsome profile as he watched each carriage pass him by making her giddy with anticipation.
They were going to be together for almost a whole weekend! The rest of today, and all day tomorrow – and although some of that time would have to be spent talking about their plans for the wedding – she knew that every hour would be full of pleasure. Just to be near him would see to that – and the love letter Sam had sent her on Sunday had made her walk on air afterwards, and for the rest of the week.
Now the doors opened and everyone tumbled out – and she was in his arms, which he wrapped around her, his mouth reaching for hers in such a natural way that she didn’t have time to feel embarrassed that others might be looking. And who cared, anyway? Alice had no cares, not when she was with Sam.
Finally, he released her, taking her overnight bag, then they walked towards the exit. He looked down at her and kissed the top of her head. ‘Sorry,’ he murmured. ‘Two whole weeks without seeing