THE WAR BRIDE CLUB (22 page)

      Betty laughed. “I would have said fried if you’d given me the option. What in the lord’s name is over easy?”

      Ivy’s entire body shook. The laughter rumbled deep from her belly, and when she turned her eyes were twinkling.

      “Believe me, if the Lord was eating eggs for breakfast he’d choose over easy, I’m sure of it.”

      Betty settled William in for his feed, enjoying being in this woman’s kitchen, laughing over breakfast. “Over easy it is then.”

      “Betty?”

      She looked up from watching William suckle.
 

      “We’re going to get on fine, you and me. Just fine.”

      Betty forced herself to smile. She was not going to allow herself to wallow in any self-pity or sadness any longer. “You’re right, Ivy. We are.”

      “So how about you and I head into town and get you some pretty dresses today, huh? Just what you need as a pick me up, now that you look ready to brave the world again.”

      “Sounds good to me.” She had to make an effort, there was no other way forward. Besides, they’d been meaning to go shopping since the first week she arrived, so she couldn’t exactly put it off any longer.
 

      Charlie’s smiling face passed through her mind, like a hazy dream that was fading into the distance. He wanted her to be happy. She knew that he wouldn’t want anything else.
 

      She was going to make a go of life in America. She was going to make him proud.
 

      Besides, it was the only choice she had.
 

      “I learned a lot of funny American words on my trip over here, Ivy, but I’m thinking I might need some lessons.”

      “Why don’t you start by telling me the words you
do
know,” said Ivy, putting a full plate in front of her and sitting down herself with a mug of coffee, “and I’ll tell you what sounds funny.”

      Betty passed William to her so she could eat.
 

      “Well, what I do know is that what we call the lavatory you unofficially call the John.”

      Ivy nodded, laughter shining in her eyes again.
 

      “Don’t think I’ll get used to that one, though,” Betty said. “My uncle was called John and he’d be mighty offended.”

      Both women started to laugh again and William joined in, squealing with all his might.
 

      “Let’s just stick with lavatory then and move on to the next word.”

New York City was nothing like Betty had imagined. The hustle and bustle reminded her of London, but it was so much more exciting.
 

      “This way.”

      Betty kept her eyes trained on Ivy. She had a feeling that if she so much as blinked she’d lose such a little woman in this huge place. She held William close, tucked tight against her chest.
 

      A beautiful store appeared before them. The windows shone with beautiful clothes, dresses elegantly placed on stationary models, shoes beneath them, hats fashionably hanging nearby.
 

      “Are you sure?” Betty asked.

      Ivy just gave her a look and dragged her by the elbow.
 

      A bell tinkled overhead to announce their presence. Betty felt like a fraud. Her scruffy, over-worn dress showed her to be less than their usual clientele. It wasn’t that she was poor, but after losing her family, saving and scrimping for baby items and paying her own way before she set sail, she hadn’t had time to worry too much about her appearance. And they’d only been allowed to bring such a small number of items with them on the ship.
 

      A beautifully groomed woman appeared. Her stockinged legs, polished leather shoes and sweep of red lipstick reminded her of Alice.
Darling Alice who had kept them all entertained every day of their journey
. Alice who was no doubt living in the lap of luxury with her husband.
 

      Betty was relieved when the assistant didn’t so much as sweep her eyes over her shabby attire. But she was pleased that the lady directed her questions at Ivy. Betty wouldn’t have known what to say.

      “How may I help you today, ladies?”

      Ivy stood tall, proud. Betty wished she could do the same, but she simply didn’t have the energy.
 

      “We would like a collection of new dresses for Mrs Olliver here.”

      Betty was sure she detected a raised eyebrow. No doubt the gossip would start about who she was married to, why she was here. The thought made her feel nauseous.
 

      “Any particular occasion?”

      This time the question was sent her way.
 

      Ivy stepped in again. “Just a nice collection of day dresses, everyday wear, to start with please. Along with suitable footwear.”

      “Of course. Come this way.”

      Betty felt way over her head, but she just followed. Ivy had made it very clear before they left home that she was not to make a fuss, to just try the clothes on and select some new outfits. She hadn’t known what to expect.
 

      “Do you like pastels or more neutral tones?”

      She couldn’t help but think she should be wearing black.
Widow’s black
. But she didn’t dare say it.
 

      “Whatever colors you think would suit me will be fine.”

      The shop assistant smiled. “Well, if it were up to me I’d make the most of those lovely blue eyes and go for pastels.”

      Ivy gave her a prod in the back and reached for William.
 

      Betty reluctantly passed him over and let herself be ushered into the fitting room.
There was no backing out now.
 

They left with bags full to overflowing. Betty was nervous more than embarrassed. It didn’t seem right, pretending like nothing had happened, like she was meant to be here. Would others think she was the new wife of Luke Olliver? Surely not, when she had a baby in tow.
 

      “You all right, my dear?”

      She braved a smile at Ivy. “Just thinking.”

      “Of Charlie?”

      She nodded. When wasn’t she thinking about Charlie?
 

      “He would have wanted you to be happy. For Luke to look after you.”

      Would he? “It just doesn’t feel right, carrying on, shopping, like nothing has happened. Like he’s just going to arrive one day and things will be normal. Like they were supposed to be.”

      Ivy took her elbow and steered her across the road. It was busy, too many people for Betty’s liking.

      “Come on, let’s get back home and you can have a lie down. Or take William for a walk around the gardens.”

      That sounded better than being in town. She was getting that terrible feeling like she couldn’t breath, just like when Ivy had told her the news. Like a hand at her throat, slowly squeezing all the air from her lungs.
 

      They got in the car. She smiled gratefully as their driver put the bags in the trunk and closed her door.
 

      “Do you wish you were back home?”

      Betty shook her head and focused on William. On his round little face, fists balled, one in front of his mouth.
 

      “You don’t wish you were back with your family?”

      She turned to Ivy. “I don’t have any family, Ivy. That’s why I had to come. Why I couldn’t wait and risk having my baby alone. I’d long since outstayed my welcome at my friend’s home.”

      Ivy moved closer, put an arm around her, and held her tight.
 

      “I’ve a daughter your age. I think you’d like her. She has some little ones of her own, too.”

      Betty snuffled, trying to stop the heave of her chest as tears welled in her eyes again.
 

      “Whenever she was feeling down, or something bad had happened, we always cooked. Baked up a storm, we did. Would you have done that with your mother, do you think?”

      It sounded perfect. “I think that’s just what I need,” Betty told her.
 

      “I also used to say that baking wasn’t a cure for a broken heart, but it sure was a good start.”

      Betty settled William against her and let her head rest on the back of the seat. Whatever would she have done without Ivy?

      “Is it proper, for me to be in the kitchen with you? In England it can cause a fuss.”

      Ivy patted her hand. “We don’t fuss so much here. Besides, when Luke was a boy he spent hours in the kitchen with me, he and Charlie both did, always under my feet or standing on a chair to help. He’s not going to mind. His mother might, but not Luke.”

      That relieved her. As much as she wanted Ivy’s support, she didn’t want to upset Luke. Not yet. She didn’t know him well enough to cause a stir.
 

      “Do you think he likes me, Ivy?” Betty asked.
 

      “Who?”

      She closed her eyes and focused on the movement of the car. “Luke.”

      “Luke’s a good man. He’ll like you just fine.”

      But how long could he be expected to provide for his sister-in-law and nephew? It was fine while there was no lady of the house, but she wasn’t so sure what would happen if there ever was one.

 
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

      “So is it different here?”

      Madeline sat with Lauren on the back steps of their office building. It was flooded with sun, and they had their legs stretched out as they ate their sandwiches.
 

      “You mean aside from the funny accents and names for things?”

      Lauren gave her a nudge with her shoulder and rolled her eyes skyward.
 

      “You know what I mean.”

      Madeline thought about it. There were ways in which it was different that she had no idea how to describe. Ways that she’d never imagined.
 

      “It’s not really different.” She didn’t know how else to answer. “I mean, Americans talk more, you know, about things and to one another than we do back home. More forthright, I think that’s what the book said.”

      “What book?” Lauren took a bite of her sandwich and then leaned back heavily on her palms to turn her face to the sun.
 

      “Good Housekeeping. They made a book for foreign brides, to, well, to teach us how to be good American wives.”

      Lauren laughed. “Maybe they should have given Roy’s parents a copy to help them be good in-laws.”

      Madeline liked that she could talk to Lauren. She still hadn’t managed to track down from her friends from the voyage, so it was nice having someone. They ate lunch together most days, and between them, got their workload completed quickly.
 

      “When are you going to tell Mr Curtis that you’re pregnant?”

      Her hand fell to her stomach. “I guess soon. I just don’t want him to fire me.”

      “He won’t fire you, silly. You’re far too good.”

      A shiver shook her body. “I don’t want to upset him. It’s not like I’ve been here long.” She paused. “You won’t tell him, will you?”

      Lauren rolled her eyes before scanning her watch. “You don’t even have to ask me that. But he’ll fire us both first anyway if we don’t get back soon. It’s already five past one.”

      They both stood up and walked back inside.
 

      “Why don’t you and Roy come for dinner this weekend? Unless you already have plans?”

      “That would be great.”

      They hadn’t been to a friend’s house for dinner since they’d been married. It felt like a huge step. A step forward in the right direction.
 

      “Should I bring dessert?” Madeline asked.
 

      Lauren grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Oh, yes! Do one of those cream cake things you told me about. You know, the ones you said you mother does.”

      Madeline nodded and retrieved her hand. She didn’t want Lauren to see the tears in her eyes.
 

      What she wouldn’t give right now to sit down for a cup of tea with her mother and ask her how to make the dessert properly. To smell the morning’s baking still lingering in the kitchen, to watch her father kiss her mother on the check and drop his cup into the sink as he passed. To hear the squeal of her nieces as her sister chased them about the house and threatened punishment.
 

      “Are you all right?”

      Lauren
had
noticed. She wiped at her tears, gave her friend a smile and walked back off to her office. Missing her family never got any easier. And she doubted it ever would.