1971, THE WEDDING DAY

Sadly, Diana surveys her new bedroom in the East wing, not the best part of the house. With the financial arrangements already settled, Edward and Margaret will be returning from their honeymoon to the loveliest rooms in the house and she will be relegated to the colder side.

Already, Margaret has supervised a transformation of the ballroom in preparation for the wedding reception. Diana’s favourite eau-de-nil panelling is now a Scandinavian duck egg blue and the ornate mouldings have been gilded – a little too ostentatious for Diana, but of course they match the spindly golden chairs that have been hired for guests instead of using a motley collection from around the house. Even the cloakroom for guests has had a new suite installed with gold taps. Electricians have been busy rigging up strings of lights around the terrace and along the drive, and florists are everywhere, arranging vast vases of peach and white roses and peonies, with nasty little net bags of pastel sugared almonds strewn around. The firework technicians are busy installing the display at the top of the hill behind the house, and the string quartet is tuning up on the terrace.

Diana’s own wedding to Tom was far more restrained, and with much grander guests. They had enjoyed some good times together and she had been content with Tom, but after the war he was changed and nothing seemed to interest or please him anymore. If he were still alive, Edward and Margaret would be moving into these rooms and she would still be mistress of Tregethlan. And she had never expected to be left with all these financial problems.

The windows overlook the dark woods instead of sunny lawns and Diana shivers as she considers her future. Margaret will fill the house with loud music and her giggling friends, while Diana will be reduced to entertaining in the East wing, except when invited into her old domain.

Diana was always able to make style decisions herself but now the house is being attacked by plumbers, electricians, painters and even an interior designer. And that little, yapping dog that is allowed everywhere. Today, a girl has been specially employed to supervise his experience of the wedding, complete with peach ruff around his neck and a special meal on a velvet cushion in the ballroom. The gundogs are in their rightful place – kennels outside.

As for all that fuss about food. Not eating meat when you live on an estate with beef cattle, sheep and a well-respected shoot. At least now Diana won’t have to bother. Margaret can arrange her own menus.

And why on earth does she have to call him Teddy?

With a sigh, Diana slips her lichen green crepe-de-chine coat over the matching dress and pins a pearl brooch on the collar. Her hair is swept up under an oyster silk hat with one large pale rose nestling in the wide tilted brim.

She draws herself up to check her reflection in the mirror.

No, she must think of the positives. Now she can leave all the estate worries to Edward and Margaret. Hopefully, she will be invited to Margaret’s parents villa on Minorca. It would be so lovely to enjoy that Mediterranean lifestyle again – staff, wine, azure seas, sunshine, and flirting with glamorous people. Harold may be rather short and portly but he’s certainly generous and knows how to entertain. Winifred is a little mouse but quite pleasant.

A knock on the door and Edward enters, tall and resplendent in his morning dress, but with that vulgar peach cravat. It clashes dreadfully with his gorgeous auburn curls. But he still has that mischievous grin that she so loved when he was small.

‘Ready Mama?

*

Margaret cannot believe how quickly today has arrived. The last few months since returning from their skiing holiday and becoming engaged to Edward have passed in a flurry of wedding arrangements. She looks lovingly at her beautiful dark sapphire and diamond ring. It belonged to Edward’s grandmother, a real family heirloom. Now here she is on a beautiful May morning, sitting at her dressing table, putting the final touches to her make up.

‘Nearly ready dear. Not too nervous, I hope?

Margaret looks up to see her mother Winifred behind her, dressed in her wedding finery, except for her shoes. She is wearing her bedroom slippers.

‘A little, but more excited I think. I love Edward dearly. I can’t wait to start our life together here.’

‘It is a beautiful house, if a little run down. But you will be able to put your own stamp on it. You have your trust fund to take care of that.’

‘Yes, I have such plans and Edward has given me free rein. Of course, I should hope to get Diana on board too. I wouldn’t want to upset her. It has been her family home for a long time’

Suddenly they are interrupted by squeals of laughter outside the bedroom door. Clarissa and Emily, Margaret’s senior bridesmaids, barge in. They too are already dressed in their pale peach bridesmaids’ dresses, with matching floral headbands.

‘How do we look? Will we pass muster?’ asks Clarissa.

‘You both look perfectly lovely,’ says Margaret. How about the tinies though, are they ready?’

‘Oh yes’ replies Emily. ‘We got them ready first, with threats of no wedding cake if they dare move from the nursery. They look so sweet with their little shoes and socks and baskets of flowers.’

‘Now, what about you? Time to get into your dress. Your hair looks pretty like that, it suits you’

Margaret pats her chignon and pulls at the few loose curls around the sides of her face. ‘Yes, I wasn’t sure about wearing it up but I’m pleased with it now’

‘Come on then, let’s get you dressed. You don’t want to keep Edward waiting too long at the altar do you?’ says Clarissa as she unzips the dress cover hanging from the wardrobe.

Margaret’s dress is stunning in its simplicity. White high-necked lace over a fitted bodice with long lace sleeves, fitted at the waist with a beautiful slim skirt, culminating in a scalloped lace hem. A small train falls from the waist. Margaret has chosen well. It shows off her petite figure to perfection. She had stood firm when Diana offered her own Mother’s dress. Margaret wanted her own style and new. She accepted Diana’s offer of blue sapphire earrings though as her borrowed and blue.

Margaret steps into her dress and Clarissa carefully arranges the long sleeves to fit Margaret’s shoulders, fastening the dozen rouleau-covered buttons from the back of her neck to her waist. The train falls gracefully to the floor. [photograph of the dress]

‘Now mother, please don’t cry. You will start me off. This mascara is supposed to be waterproof but it has to last all day.’

‘Oh darling, you look so beautiful. I have waited so long for this day.’ Winifred gazes at Margaret’s reflection in the full-length mirror.

‘I hope you won’t spoil it by wearing your bedroom slippers,’ Margaret laughs and Clarissa and Emily join in.

‘My goodness, I completely forgot! My shoes do pinch a little. I was leaving them off for as long as possible.’

‘Well go and change now and bring us some champagne. Would you please check on the little bridesmaids?’

‘Of course darling, back in a sec’.

As Winifred leaves, Emily picks up Margaret’s veil and headband from the mannequin head on the dresser. She helps Margaret secure it firmly and arranges it carefully over her shoulders, the full length tumbling to the floor. The lace matches the dress, with a half veil for her face.

‘I’m so pleased with the gypsophila and peach rosebuds, so much prettier than artificial silk. A perfect match to your dresses’

‘Indeed, just the right amount of colour,’ says Emily.

Margaret completes her look with a pair of white, small, heeled brocade shoes.

‘Well, will I do?’ she ask, turning left and right, looking at her reflection.

‘You will more than do,’ says Clarissa. ‘You look stunning’

‘Edward will be bowled over,’ agrees Emily.

‘Here we are then, champagne for everyone.’ Winifred returns with a tray holding four glasses of the pale amber liquid, bubbles floating tantalisingly, and the remaining bottle of Cristalle. Clarissa takes two glasses, handing one each to Margaret and Emily, and the remaining two for herself and Winifred.

‘A toast’ says Winifred, lifting her glass,’ to my beautiful daughter and dear Edward, happiness always’.

‘To Margaret and Edward,’ they chorus.

‘Delicious. Just what I needed,’ says Margaret, holding her glass safely away from her dress.

Winifred drains her glass. ‘Well dear, the little ones are getting restless and the cars are ready. We must get a wriggle on. You don’t want to be too late do you? Clarissa and Emily, you collect the little ones – I’ll join you in a tick.’

‘Can’t stand here all day drinking champagne, we have a wedding to go to’, says Clarissa excitedly.

‘Your bouquets are on the hall table girls, along with Margaret’s.’

*

Margaret’s father, Harold, adjusts his cravat and tugs his waistcoat down over his ample stomach. He is looking forward to extending his circle of landed gentry acquaintances. He is so well known now in the Midlands, where the penniless, faded aristocracy enjoy his generous hospitality, in return for useful contacts. This wedding will be an opportunity to meet similar people in the South West who, in return for his largesse, will, no doubt, be influential in opening up new business possibilities.

He gazes through the elegant tall windows and runs his finger along the cracked and peeling frames with original shutters that should have been better maintained. The drive across the lawn is weedy and bare and the yew hedges need trimming.

Such a shame that the wrong, lazy people have owned these houses for too long.
But no matter, Margaret is his daughter in spirit and energy. She will sweep away the old ways and reinvigorate this place. She has already transformed the ballroom to its rightful magnificence in preparation for the reception.

Edward seems a good chap, loves sailing, which means that Harold can enjoy more time on Iolanthe too. His adorable, sweet, determined little daughter seems so delighted whenever she is with Edward. He can only hope that they will always share that happiness.

As Clarissa and Emily leave, Harold enters resplendent in his grey morning suit.

‘My dear, how beautiful you are.’ He crosses the room and kisses her fondly on the cheek. ‘My little girl all grown up and about to be married.’

‘I’ll see you in church dear.’ Winifred gives Margaret a final hug, smiles broadly at Harold and leaves to join the bridesmaids.

Margaret takes a deep breath and settles herself.

‘OK Daddy, I’m ready’

Harold holds out his right arm and Margaret rests her left hand lightly upon it. He pats it reassuringly. They head downstairs, where Margaret picks up her bouquet of peach rosebuds, gypsophila and freesias from the hall table. The navy-blue Bentley convertible shines like glass in the sunshine and Margaret can easily see her reflection in it. Her eldest brother, James, holds open the door and between them they help Margaret into her seat, followed by her train and veil. Margaret settles back into the cream leather upholstery as Harold seats himself next to her.

‘Such a good idea Daddy to use your car. It’s an old friend and it’s only right it should play a part in today’.

‘Exactly dear. So pleased you agreed.’

The journey to the church takes less than ten minutes at a stately pace. As they drive through the village, people smile and wave from the side of the road as the veiled bride-to-be passes by. Margaret has timed her arrival for five minutes past noon, just five minutes late.

She stands at the ancient double doors of the church, Clarissa and Emily behind her, having performed their duties well in straightening out her dress. Once again she takes her father’s arm. The organist strikes up the wedding march and Margaret feels a huge flutter of excitement deep in her stomach. The small bridesmaids make their way down the aisle scattering mixed flower petals before her. All heads turn to get their first glimpse of the bride. Margaret makes her way slowly in time with the music, towards her future husband.

*

Afterwards, having had photographs taken at the church, Margaret and Edward head for the lawns at the front of Tregethlan house for a few more.

Some of the guests are spilling out onto the terrace with their champagne glasses, chatting in the June sunshine. Clarissa and Emily mingle with them, waiting for their photocall from the photographer.

A beautiful tableau is arranged under the vast spread of the great cedar tree, with a couple of uninvited stray peacocks in attendance. Margaret and Edward both agree the birds should be part of the scene.

At 2 o’clock precisely the bride and groom enter the ballroom to the applause of their guests and take their seats at the top table. Once again Edward tells Margaret how beautiful she looks, which she never tires of hearing. The string quartet plays discreetly in a corner as 150 guests enjoy a wedding breakfast of locally produced food. Smoked trout, beef from the Tregethlan herd, though not for Margaret, seasonal vegetables and the lightest of fruit meringues for dessert.

The ballroom looks splendid for this happiest of occasions. Windows sparkle in the sunlight, reflecting in the beautiful chandelier. The mahogany floor is polished to the deepest of dark hues and the atmosphere is heady with the fragrance of the flower pedestals, abundant with more peach roses, freesias and blousy greenery that befits the surroundings. The tables are laid with the most beautiful cream damask linen cloths and silver candelabra, not catering supplies these, but belonging to Tregethlan and used under strict instructions from Diana, along with the crockery and cutlery. So pleased and proud is she to provide them for her son and his bride.

Speeches delivered, toasts made, cake cut with Edward’s late father’s sword, the guests can kick back and relax. Margaret and Edward make sure to speak to each of their guests, Margaret in training as the perfect hostess for the many parties and celebrations she intends to host in this ballroom. The reception continues with more guests arriving in the evening for a noisy, joyous dance, with more food and wine served and wedding gifts presented. At midnight the happy couple depart, leaving their guests to enjoy themselves until the small hours. As they drive away Diana watches the car lights recede down the long drive. Their future and Tregethlan’s, lie ahead of them, and she has the sense that a great weight has been lifted.

Chapter 30