Free The Tailor's Girl by Fiona McIntosh

running the country in the absence of the men who were busy getting killed on the battlefields of Europe and beyond.’
    He regretted the outburst immediately. It was insensitive, critical and patronising.
    ‘You’re right, Tom, this is not your business. Edie will marry and she will live under the rules of her husband’s household. I think we should talk about something else.’

5
     
    Edie leaned back into the corner and wiped away silent tears. Dear Tom. He’d gone into battle for her without even being asked. Had she led him into that fight? Maybe she had. She couldn’t pretend to herself that she’d not encouraged him, remembering her daring opening conversation with the stranger, her even more daring entertainment of helping him escape the hospital, the intimate smiles, their closeness on the bus, their laughter in the rain . . . Who was she kidding that she didn’t feel a current passing between them? She nearly dropped the bread plate when he accidentally touched her, and how she didn’t tremble over her father’s blessing she would never know. She was also sure she was not imagining that Tom had begun to believe they might become more than new friends. If the way he’d resisted letting go of her hand after the prayer was a glimpse behind the polite mask he’d put on for her father, then she needed to dissuade him quickly.
    Her father had been dreaming of linking the Levi and Valentine families since her mother’s passing more than two decades previous. She’d heard the shock in Tom’s voice at her father’s remark about how soon the wedding was, and yet she’d also heard how unflinchingly he’d taken on Abe Valentine and argued for her. Few people would. Her father was one of the elders of Golders Green; his words were heard, his advice heeded. His words echoed, each like a small punch: ‘she will live under the rules of her husband’s household’.
    More rules. Men’s rules. Her dreams and desires? Irrelevant. And here was a stranger called Tom, fighting for her right to make her own decisions. While she, cringing in the shadows, had never yet found the courage to say to Abe Valentine what her brave, battle-scarred soldier had just said, blundering into the no-man’s-land that was Jewish custom. Her father had not lied. She had known Ben Levi since both of them had been old enough to walk and talk. Their two mothers had been close friends and when Ben had been born his mother had looked at pregnant Nina Valentine and wished that she were carrying a daughter. They’d agreed that if the child were a girl, then she would be promised to Ben. Their families would join. Her father was simply following the plan . . . but no one had asked Edie whether this pledge suited her. She had always known of the betrothal to Ben. She’d just not taken it seriously enough and now it was too late; marriage was almost upon her.
    Edie stared at the rose-gold ring she’d taken off this morning and forgotten to put on before she’d headed to the hospital. It was back in place now, proclaiming that she was ‘spoken for’, with its tiny embedded diamond catching the light, and she had to quickly swallow a sob. Age had caught up with her and so had Ben and their mothers’ promises. In twenty-seven days she would meekly agree with the rabbi that she was now to be known as Eden Levi. Meanwhile a man she knew so little about was willing her to cling to being Valentine, and to fight for her dream. Most of all she sensed that Tom was silently tapping into her own fears that regret was just twenty-six nights away. Everything that had happened since meeting Tom confirmed that she did not want this marriage as much as everyone else around her did. She was a helpless marionette dancing beneath strings being pulled by others.
    But Tom had no strings. Tom was free. She was helplessly drawn to him, wanting to learn more about him, to spend time with him, even though Abba’s glares forbade it and Ben would loathe him;