Free Gracie by Marie Maxwell Page B

satin shoes were on her feet.
    As Gracie stared at herself in the mirror she found it hard to believe that she was the bride and that it was actually her wedding day. She had spent so many years seeing a plain kid in the mirror that it was hard to accept that everything had changed for her.
    It was the day she had dreamed of, especially after the trauma of being abandoned by the man who was the father of her illegitimate baby, the baby she had been forced to give up.
    Archie Cooper had declared his undying love, charmed her, said he wanted to marry her, bedded her and then disappeared without trace, leaving a fearful and disillusioned Gracie to face the consequences alone, with her dreams in tatters.
    But that was all in the past, everything was in the past; she now had Sean Donnelly, a nice young man who loved her and wanted to marry her. Her wedding day had finally arrived.
    ‘Oh bloody hell, Gracie Grace! You look lovely – all grown up and sophisticated. You look just like a model bride in
Woman’s Own
or even a movie star! You’re so beautiful.’
    ‘Beautiful is pushing it, Rubes …’ Gracie laughed.
    Ruby clutched her hands to her mouth and looked ready to cry as her friend stopped moving and stood with her arms held out, like a ballerina. The wedding dress was mid-calf length with a fitted silk bodice that was darted and shaped to make the most of Gracie’s figure; it had a full skirt carefully crafted from silk and lace, with a net underskirt to make it stand out and a neckline that was scooped and edged with white satin, as were the fashionable elbow-length sleeves. Her short white lace gloves were the finishing touch to the bride’s ensemble.
    All the dresses, Gracie’s and both bridesmaids’ had been home-made by Babs Wheaton, Ruby’s wartime foster mother who was a skilled home dressmaker, as a wedding gift. Gracie was beyond grateful because she could never have afforded something so classy herself.
    Ruby’s bridesmaid’s outfit was the same design as Gracie’s but was pale pink satin without the lace or the net underskirts so it hung straight down and fluttered around her calves; Maggie’s was almost the same, but hers was full-length and in a design more suited to a child. Each dress had been carefully made with each person in mind and they all complemented each other.
    Gracie turned every which way in front of the mirror as she tried hard to recognise herself. No matter how many years had passed, inside she still felt like the plain child with spots and greasy hair who was never really part of anything, either in school or out. The child who was always called names and excluded from playtime games. Now she was looking at a beautiful young woman who didn’t look in the least bit like the Gracie McCabe she knew.
    ‘I know I should feel a bit of a hypocrite walking down the aisle in white, what with everything that’s gone on but what could I do? Sean’s family expect it, the virgin bride and all that.’ Gracie frowned as she continued to twist and turn, and study herself from top to toe. ‘I wonder why it’s still the way? My mother is horrified I’m going to wed in church in white but then she’d have died of shame if I turned up in cream. It’s so old-fashioned!’ Gracie pulled a silly face.
    ‘It’s tradition, I suppose, and the way their generation sees things,’ Ruby said.
    ‘I suppose. And talking of tradition, where’s my miniature bridesmaid?’ Gracie looked around. ‘Where’s Maggie gone?’
    ‘She’s already downstairs with Aunty Babs and your dad. She was jumping around like a flea on a flannel with excitement.’ Ruby smiled. ‘She looks so pretty and I’m so proud of her. Sometimes when I see her it’s hard minding my words. Johnnie says the same; she’s our daughter but not a soul except us knows. But she’s having the best upbringing with George and Babs so we just have to be grateful and wait until Maggie is old enough to be told the truth. I hope she