Free Coronation Wives by Lizzie Lane Page A

Coronation!’
    ‘No, not another Coronation. You gets things from swimming baths like bad legs and bad arms – and worse.’
    ‘Like Geraldine Harvey?’ Carol bobbed away and went round the room dragging one leg behind her as she hopped forward. ‘She walks like this ’cos she’s got irons up ’er legs.’
    ‘That’s why yer not goin’ swimming.’ The paper hat fell over her eyes. ‘Damn!’ Polly grabbed her arm as she loped past and straightened the hat with the aid of a few more hairgrips.
    ‘Ow!’
    ‘Keep still.’
    Carol brightened. ‘Is Aunty Meg coming to the party?’
    Polly nodded. ‘You know she is. She’s upstairs putting on her costume.’ Meg was going to be wearing her Pearly Queen outfit from yesterday. Polly would again be her male escort only today she’d added a moustache by virtue of a line of black lead scrolled along her top lip.
    ‘Is Dad coming to the party?’
    Polly gritted her teeth and looked at the clock. ‘He’d bloody well better be.’
    Charlotte was getting ready to help judge the best street party in the whole of Bristol. A local newspaper was sponsoring the event and she felt very proud that they’d asked her to help adjudicate.
    She wore a new dress of royal blue with a cinched-in waist and a slimline skirt with a kick-pleat at the back that reached to mid-calf. Charlotte prided herself that, despite having just hadher forty-seventh birthday, her figure had not yet gone to seed. In an effort to add a touch of patriotic fervour, she pinned a bunch of bright red cherries to her lapel then finished the outfit with white gloves and a matching handbag. Her shoes were navy blue. She twirled in front of the mirror.
    David gave her a quick peck on the cheek. ‘You look wonderful, darling.’
    ‘You could come with me,’ she said brightly.
    David stopped by the door, a copy of
The Times
tucked beneath his arm. He looked tense. ‘I thought you had enough judges? And I do have to collect Geoffrey from Temple Meads.’
    ‘You could pick him up from the station and then keep me company,’ she said as she fixed the red straw hat to her head, its shape similar to an upside down dinner plate.
    David checked his watch. ‘I thought Janet was going with you.’
    ‘She has a headache again. Do you think there’s anything seriously wrong with her?’
    ‘How can I tell? The headache disappears the moment I mention examining her.’
    ‘Still, she might be better by now.’
    Charlotte had arranged to meet the other judges at eleven o’clock at the Mansion House. The Lord Mayor would be attending along with the High Sheriff of Bristol and other notable dignitaries including the editor of the local newspaper group. Speeches would be read, tea and cakes would be on offer and there might – depending on the generosity of Harveys, the famous wine merchants – even be a little sweet sherry with which to toast the incoming monarch.
    Charlotte glanced at her watch as she went up the stairs. Ten thirty. The breakfast tray Mrs Grey had taken up to Janet’s room earlier that morning was still outside the door.
    Charlotte knocked. ‘Janet? Are you up to keeping me company, darling, or will you go with your father to fetch Geoffrey?’
    There was a moment of silence before Janet answered. ‘I’d rather stay here.’
    Janet’s voice seemed a little terse and although her daughter’s recurring headaches worried her, Charlotte took her duties to the city very seriously.
    ‘I’ll see you later, darling. Hope you feel better.’ On the other side of the door Janet looked at herself in the mirror and thought of her conversation with Edna. A bastard child! She could hardly believe it. Funny how you could look at people and assume from their present demeanour, their unassuming ordinariness, that they’d never done anything outrageous in their life. Yet Edna had got pregnant by a man who wasn’t her husband. She had got on with her life – just as she would have to.
    Just look at it,