Читать книгу Sand In My Shoes: Coming of Age in the Second World War: A WAAF’s Diary - Joan Rice - Страница 48

This new diary is much too small but it is all that the shop had. I'm starting it off anyway in proper style with a description of Barbie's wedding. Yesterday, a quarter to two saw me waiting for a bus outside Simpson's in Piccadilly. I was looking very smart and clean with my hair newly set, my buttons shining and I was wearing my Moss Bros best blue.

This part of London was sleek and prosperous with its offices and ‘not-having-to-think-about-having-to-take-a-taxi’ people. The sun was shining on its large solid buildings.

In the church I sat by Beasle, a girl from Shell, and I was hardly seated when the congregation rose and in came the bride. I suppose all brides are beautiful but it was hard to believe that for the last two years I had worked and played and talked and eaten with so wonderful looking a person. I couldn't see them at the altar very well, nor hear David's replies, but Barbara's voice was steady and distinct. Then they went up to the altar and knelt down by it together. I saw them hold each other's hands and I said over and over and over in my head, don't kill David. There was a pause, silent and excited and expectant, when they came out of the vestry and then the organ burst out ‘Here Comes the Bride’ and they came past us, smiling and married.

I was a bit wary about the reception. The one wedding I's been to before had a reception that I hated: I's not known anyone and I was lost and embarrassed and shy. I was grateful and glad therefore when all Barbara's relatives I had met at her twenty-first birthday party came and welcomed me with at least an externally perfect sincerity. After a series of champagnes I began to love everyone present. My shyness melted and giggles replaced it. Peter and another boy and girl and I grouped in a corner and collected all the available champagne and got to that lovely floating stage where everything was very very funny. Occasionally I detached myself and chatted animatedly to total strangers, but I always came back to Peter, the Cunninghams' very nice cousin, and Biddy and Patsy, Barbara's almost-as-nice-as-her sisters.

After my fourth champagne there was one moment when I felt worried because things really were getting rather odd and words slipped about in my mouth. However, I rallied all my will-power and kept Biddy by me, who has a head like a rock even if only fifteen. She and Barbara are very alike, while Patsy and I are the silly ones. Then I formally adopted all the Cunninghams, arranged with them and Peter to go down for a weekend and was led by Biddy to my hat and gas mask. By great concentration I got to Mother's office to tell her that the bride carried a lovely wreath of spring flowers.¹⁹