Free A Winter Bride by Isla Dewar Page B

you should use it to buy respect. Make no mistake, money can buy you happiness, but family should be the heart and soul of your life.’

Chapter Seven
    The Second Saturday
in January at
Two O’clock
    By November 1961, Nell was nineteen and content. She hadn’t forgotten the vow she’d made on the night she’d first met Alistair over two years ago. She still planned to marry him someday. He had exceeded all of her expectations. When he’d graduated she’d smiled when she’d given him a Parker pen on the day of the ceremony, thinking of the promise she’d made on the first night he’d walked her home. He was working as a lawyer but wasn’t earning a huge amount. Though Nell knew that would come eventually. Meantime, she could eat and sleep in his comfortable family home, and she did so often that the drab two-bedroom council house where she’d been brought up became a stopping-off point for her. Her mother made the occasional pointed comment but that didn’t stop Nell. Her old home soon became the place where she kept her clothes and where she slept on the nights she didn’t sleep in the Rutherford’s spare room. This convenient arrangement went on for almost two years.
    Carol, now mother of a one-year-old and a self-proclaimed expert on relationships, had suggested to Nell that she and Alistair were in a rut. But Nell had denied it. They were a couple, she’d said, and this was how couples behaved. They went to the cinema, had the odd drink together in their favourite bar, and ate out now and then, trying new restaurants. ‘We’re comfortable,’ Nell said, and then quoted May, ‘Romantic love, pah. It disturbs your sleep. Stops you thinking. What you want in the end is affection and companionship. Alistair and I have that.’ Still, it bothered her that she was knocking on and hadn’t achieved her goals. She should get engaged this year. She should be getting married the year after next. There was no sign of either of these things happening. Perhaps she should mention this to Alistair. But she didn’t want to upset him. Magazines and movies were full of the dire things that happened to women who were too pushy.
    It was bitterly cold outside, rain streaming down the window. Nell and Alistair were curled up, entangled on the living room sofa watching Casablanca , their favourite movie. They could speak along with it, and usually did. ‘Of all the gin joints …’ Alistair was saying, when May bustled in.
    ‘Brought you something to keep you going till supper time.’ She put a tray with a couple of mugs of hot chocolate and some almond cake on the coffee table in front of them. They both thanked her, and took a mug, cupped it in their hands.
    Nell sipped the hot, sweet drink and smiled up at May. ‘Just the thing on a day like this.’ She had a thin chocolate moustache on her upper lip.
    ‘Look at the two of you,’ said May, critically considering them and folding her arms. ‘You’re like a couple of teenagers, huddled up watching a daft film.’
    Alistair protested it wasn’t daft. ‘It’s a classic.’
    ‘I don’t care what it is,’ said May. ‘I think you should be doing more than just sitting watching TV. You’re a grown man now. A lawyer working with Hepburn, Smith and Rogers, you’ve got your own office with a desk and a telephone. You shouldn’t be living with your mother and father.’
    ‘But the food’s good here,’ Alistair said. And winked at Nell.
    ‘No matter. Strikes me that you two are too comfortable. You’re being waited on hand and foot, getting everything done for you. You’re getting up to all sorts in that spare room. Don’t deny it. I know what goes on under my own roof. It’s time you both grew up and settled down.’
    Both Nell and Alistair looked embarrassed but neither said anything, though they knew this was true.
    ‘So,’ said May, ‘since it doesn’t look like either of you are going to do something about moving on with your lives, I’ve done it