The Long Road Ahead. Rosie James

tonight,’ he said. ‘I only got back to Bristol myself this morning, and I haven’t seen my father yet today. But he clearly thought that my siblings should be here to congratulate me on my matrimonial choice…and to see you again, Alice. One good thing, there’ll hardly be any need for formal introductions,’ he added.

      ‘It will be lovely to see them all again,’ Alice said, remembering that the only recent times they had been together had been at Helena’s death bed, and at her December funeral and later memorial service.

      Sam cut in on her thoughts. ‘I’m sure that the girls will be longing to ask you all the details about the wedding,’ he said. ‘I believe that women enjoy that sort of thing. And you, of all people, know what Rose and Margaret are like. They’ll be bombarding you with questions so have your answers ready!’

      Alice shrank at the words. For a couple of hours she’d completely forgotten about the wedding and everything that went with it. She had been dwelling on the gentle past, and what she’d begun to view as the somewhat confused future… She cleared her throat.

      ‘Oh, I shall have some questions of my own to ask them,’ she said. ‘They are not very good at keeping in touch – and I’d like to know what they’re up to at the moment.’

      ‘Hmm, I think my father would like to know that as well,’ Sam said. ‘At twenty-two years old, with university behind them, they should have at least some idea of what they want to do. They were abroad with friends for part of last year, I do know that,’ he added.

      Presently, as they began strolling back – ‘Tell me about your afternoon with your friends…Fay and Eve,’ Sam said. ‘Did you have a good time?’

      Alice’s heart lifted at the words. ‘It was lovely,’ she said, ‘we always have such a fun time when we’re together. Fay is, well Fay is a rugged individual, shall we say, while Eve is the complete opposite. But our Evie had some wonderful things to tell us because her parents have come around to accepting her boyfriend – which she didn’t think would ever happen.’

      ‘Why not?’ Sam asked curiously.

      ‘Because he, Max, is a divorcee – or soon going to be,’ Alice said. ‘They don’t agree with divorce, you see.’

      Sam shrugged briefly. ‘Well, it’s not the most desirable thing, I suppose,’ he said, ‘but if it happens, it happens. Life can be unpredictable.’

      His remark didn’t surprise Alice. Sam was wise…a worldly-wise man. ‘And as for Fay – her news is that she’s learned to drive and bought herself a car,’ Alice went on. ‘She was quite excited about that, especially as it means she’s going to be able to take her mother and grandmother out for a little trip sometimes.’ Alice paused briefly. ‘She is very, very fond of them both,’ she added, ‘and actually lived with her grandmother for some years, because she and her father apparently never got on when she was at home.’ Alice looked up at Sam. ‘I cannot imagine not wanting to live with my parents, can you, Sam? When you were young? She was always going on about her father – said she hated him, and was always really rude about him which made us laugh, but which I thought was a shame…’ Alice didn’t go on. She’d had her own darling Papa for so few years of her life– he had died when she’d been ten years old – the thought of not wanting to live with him, not wanting to see him, seemed wicked and wrong.

      ‘Well, of course boarding school certainly causes some separation,’ Sam pointed out, ‘but the holidays soon come around, and knowing that my parents, the family, were all still there at home meant everything to me. And no, I can’t imagine not loving them.’ Then, after a moment – ‘I would really like to meet your friends,’ he said, ‘Fay and Evie…perhaps you could try and arrange something and I’ll do my best to fit in?’

      Alice nodded. She couldn’t wait to introduce Sam to her two best friends. ‘As a matter of fact, we’re all going to be together next weekend,’ she said, glancing up at him, ‘because we’ve been asked to a party at the farm…it’ll be the first time we’ve been there since we were demobbed…but it’s Mrs. Foulkes’ birthday on Saturday and Roger – that’s their son – wants us to be there as a surprise.’ Alice smiled. ‘And of course Fay is going to drive us in her car… I hope we don’t get lost!’

      ‘Well, I’d certainly like to meet Fay and Eve before the wedding,’ Sam said, ‘and we must discuss the guest list soon, so that we can start thinking about reception venues.’

      Alice glanced away briefly. If she was honest, what she would really like was for her wedding to Sam to be a quiet event, perhaps in a small country church somewhere, where no one knew them, and where it wouldn’t matter what her dress looked like. And if, God help her, she later turned out not to be the best wife for Samuel Carmichael after all, a quiet, simple wedding would barely be remembered for tongues to wag and gossip about afterwards…unlike a splashy, St. Mary Redcliffe affair.

      Alice almost choked on those dreadful thoughts. Her wedding was months away, and here she was imagining the worst possible scenario even before it had happened! But she knew that part of this she could put down to reading constant news reportage of the current divorce rate, which had soared to unbelievable heights since the end of the war. The country’s freedom seemed to have given its people the desire to be free from all other restraints, the desire to look for other partners, unashamedly betraying their vows. It seemed that Holy Matrimony was no longer the thing it used to be – so what if that happened to her, and Sam discovered that she was not, after all, the one for him? What if they had set too much store on the past, on their letters to each other? Could she ever be, would she ever really, really feel herself Mrs. Carmichael of Clifton?

      Rather than Miss Alice Watts of the second floor?

      Despite all her underlying anxieties, Alice couldn’t stop herself enjoying her surroundings later as she sat beside Sam in the dining room. As usual, Edward Carmichael was at the head of the table, ready to carve the roasted ducklings which Betty had just brought in from the kitchen, and with all four of the twins there too, laughing and talking and teasing each other, there was a tangible party atmosphere. Although none of the twins was identical, their likenesses were undeniable. The boys had dark, almost jet-black hair like the professor’s, and both were tall and well-built, while Rose and Margaret were quite short and dainty, their fair hair falling in long natural waves, their permanently pleasant expressions so reminiscent of Helena’s.

      Margaret looked across the table at Alice. ‘So, are there going to be hundreds of guests at this wedding of the century?’ she said. ‘I imagine that you have masses of friends you’ll want to invite, Alice.’

      Alice shook her head quickly. ‘Not masses, no,’ she said, counting quickly in her head. ‘No more than…twenty, or so…I should think.’ (Could she even manage to think of twenty?)

      ‘Oh well, Sam will make up for that, no doubt,’ Margaret said. ‘Still, we might as well make it a good one while we’re about it. And think of the presents you’ll be given!’ She sat back in her chair and folded her arms. ‘And I suppose you’ll be asking us to be your bridesmaids? Well, if so, all I ask is that my dress is not pink and frilly. I don’t care what colour you choose as long as it’s not pink. Or frilly.’

      Alice tried to look unsurprised at the remark – but she honestly hadn’t thought about who she might ask to be her bridesmaids…though of course, apart from Fay and Evie, it would be natural to ask Sam’s sisters, especially as Alice had been their nanny. She picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. ‘Of course I would love you to be my bridesmaids,’ she said firmly, as if there had never been any doubt, ‘and don’t worry – I won’t expect you to wear anything pink, Margaret.’ Margaret had always been the tomboy of the family.

      ‘I quite like pink,’ Rose said.

      ‘It doesn’t really matter what either of you like,’ the professor said, looking at them quizzically, ‘or indeed who she would like to be her bridesmaids, because from what I am led to believe, things like that are entirely the wishes of the bride. So’ – he frowned at his daughters