all the heads that were turned towards her. She was a big raw-boned strap of a girl who had a raucous laugh and a voice you could hear two streets away, or so her mam always said. Mary noted that the bridegroom looked a bit pale and apprehensive. The pallor was probably due to the amount of drink he’d have consumed the night before when he’d gone celebrating his last night as a bachelor.
Her mind went back to her own wedding day, here in this very church. She’d had a new pink and grey paisley print dress and a pink hat, but her poor mam had been dressed in borrowed finery. Frank had looked very smart in a new serge suit with a flower in his top buttonhole. She glanced surreptitiously from beneath her lowered lashes at him. How he’d aged. He looked dour and unsmiling as he stared at the wedding group. She doubted that he was recalling their wedding day, and the memory of that scene last night only reinforced her realisation that he’d changed.
After the ceremony they all went back to Newsham Street. Queenie and Maggie walked alongside Mary and her family.
‘Did yer see the get-up of Hetty?’
‘Wouldn’t you think she’d have had a bit more sense than to go flaunting that new outfit today? Did you see poor Nellie’s face when she saw her?’ Maggie said with sympathy in her voice for Nellie’s hurt feelings.
‘I thought Nellie looked very well indeed and I’m going to tell her so and I’m going to make sure Hetty hears me!’ Mary said firmly.
‘Don’t let’s dawdle, I’m starvin’ and once this lot gets stuck inter the food it’ll disappear that quick you’d ’ardly have time to blink! An’ I want ter keep me eye on our Nora an’ that feller,’ Queenie urged as everyone crowded into the tiny house.
It was with some difficulty that Nora had managed to manoeuvre herself into a position next to Richie Seddon. She had washed her hair and tied it up with the pink satin ribbon and she’d pressed the new pink ruffled blouse and she had thought she looked very well - until she had caught sight of Mary in church. The jacket might have looked like a rag last night but Mary had worked wonders with both it and the blouse. They made a very smart outfit. She had also performed miracles with her hair. Nora had noticed that as soon as they’d come out of church and Mary had taken off her shawl. She didn’t look twenty-eight. Today she looked more like eighteen, Nora mused, and the thought didn’t please her one little bit.
‘Isn’t this great, Richie?’ she said with what she hoped was a dazzling smile.
‘It is. Nellie’s certainly gone to town.’
‘She’s delighted that Violet’s married and so am I. It must be great being married,’ she said archly, shooting him a smile.
‘I bet she won’t think so in a few years’ time. Look around you, Nora. How many women do you see here who still look absolutely delighted with their husbands?’
This wasn’t the way Nora had hoped the conversation would go. ‘Oh, that’s just the old ones like me mam and Nellie and Hetty.’
‘Mary McGann’s not old and she looks as if she could kill Frank for the way he’s getting stuck into that ale.’ Richie hadn’t forgotten last night’s incident. He also thought Mary looked far lovelier than anyone, including the bride and her sisters.
Nora fought down the sharp retort that sprang to her lips. ‘Well, I see she’s got a glass of port in her hand,’ she said primly. ‘I suppose she doesn’t want him to make a show of her.’
Richie laughed. ‘Most of this lot won’t care about things like that in a couple of hours.’ Then he became serious. ‘But Mary will. I don’t know how she sticks him.’
Nora was becoming annoyed. Couldn’t he think of anyone other than Mary McGann? ‘Well, she’ll have to, he’s her husband, “for better or for worse”, like Father Heggarty said in church. Do you think you could get me another drink, Richie?
Her mind went back to her own wedding day, here in this very church. She’d had a new pink and grey paisley print dress and a pink hat, but her poor mam had been dressed in borrowed finery. Frank had looked very smart in a new serge suit with a flower in his top buttonhole. She glanced surreptitiously from beneath her lowered lashes at him. How he’d aged. He looked dour and unsmiling as he stared at the wedding group. She doubted that he was recalling their wedding day, and the memory of that scene last night only reinforced her realisation that he’d changed.
After the ceremony they all went back to Newsham Street. Queenie and Maggie walked alongside Mary and her family.
‘Did yer see the get-up of Hetty?’
‘Wouldn’t you think she’d have had a bit more sense than to go flaunting that new outfit today? Did you see poor Nellie’s face when she saw her?’ Maggie said with sympathy in her voice for Nellie’s hurt feelings.
‘I thought Nellie looked very well indeed and I’m going to tell her so and I’m going to make sure Hetty hears me!’ Mary said firmly.
‘Don’t let’s dawdle, I’m starvin’ and once this lot gets stuck inter the food it’ll disappear that quick you’d ’ardly have time to blink! An’ I want ter keep me eye on our Nora an’ that feller,’ Queenie urged as everyone crowded into the tiny house.
It was with some difficulty that Nora had managed to manoeuvre herself into a position next to Richie Seddon. She had washed her hair and tied it up with the pink satin ribbon and she’d pressed the new pink ruffled blouse and she had thought she looked very well - until she had caught sight of Mary in church. The jacket might have looked like a rag last night but Mary had worked wonders with both it and the blouse. They made a very smart outfit. She had also performed miracles with her hair. Nora had noticed that as soon as they’d come out of church and Mary had taken off her shawl. She didn’t look twenty-eight. Today she looked more like eighteen, Nora mused, and the thought didn’t please her one little bit.
‘Isn’t this great, Richie?’ she said with what she hoped was a dazzling smile.
‘It is. Nellie’s certainly gone to town.’
‘She’s delighted that Violet’s married and so am I. It must be great being married,’ she said archly, shooting him a smile.
‘I bet she won’t think so in a few years’ time. Look around you, Nora. How many women do you see here who still look absolutely delighted with their husbands?’
This wasn’t the way Nora had hoped the conversation would go. ‘Oh, that’s just the old ones like me mam and Nellie and Hetty.’
‘Mary McGann’s not old and she looks as if she could kill Frank for the way he’s getting stuck into that ale.’ Richie hadn’t forgotten last night’s incident. He also thought Mary looked far lovelier than anyone, including the bride and her sisters.
Nora fought down the sharp retort that sprang to her lips. ‘Well, I see she’s got a glass of port in her hand,’ she said primly. ‘I suppose she doesn’t want him to make a show of her.’
Richie laughed. ‘Most of this lot won’t care about things like that in a couple of hours.’ Then he became serious. ‘But Mary will. I don’t know how she sticks him.’
Nora was becoming annoyed. Couldn’t he think of anyone other than Mary McGann? ‘Well, she’ll have to, he’s her husband, “for better or for worse”, like Father Heggarty said in church. Do you think you could get me another drink, Richie?
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