The Wedding - John Bernard & Veronica

The run-up to Christmas 1961.

   I met Veronica about Easter 1961, and after a month or two, was well and truly hooked.  We were both living away from our parents, in Cambridgeshire.  Once we had both decided that this was it, we let our colleagues know, and Veronica was told "It is all much too rushed, it will never last".

   We decided that no fixed plans would be made before we had met the rest of each other's families.  We should have had some idea there was trouble ahead, on the trips to meet them.  First, we went to meet Veronica's in Brighton in the summer, and I exchanged paint stripes with another car in a one way system in London, on the way.  Then, when we were off to meet mine on a Friday night after work (it was fall by this time) a radiator hose burst on the car, and we had to summon the AA to get it repaired to complete the journey.  That weekend we visited my parents in Coventry.  Friday night there, then on to Stratford-upon-Avon, where my oldest brother was Parish Priest, then on to Alcester, where my middle brother was a curate.  He arranged the accomodation in Alcester for Saturday night, and it was an eye-opener!

   It was an old fashioned coaching inn, and overnight accomodation was two dormitories, male and female.  As it happened, we were the only guests, but we each had a choice of a dozen beds to sleep in.

   We had realised after the meeting with the families, that we would not get everything sorted out before Advent, so had settled the date as December 27^th, and wanted to borrow the church of St John the Baptist in Brighton for the ceremony.  It was only a question of borrowing the church, as of my two brothers who were priests, one was to conduct the actual ceremony, and the other to say the nuptial Mass, which Veronica's brother would serve.  I also had a sister who was organist in her own home parish.

   We knew it was usual for the wedding to be in the bride's home parish, but the topography of Brighton was such that St John the Baptist was a more convenient church for Veronica's family to use than the correct parish church, so she had already been baptised, made her first confession, first Communion, and been confirmed, in this church in the parish of which she has never ever lived.

   When we went to see the parish priest to get him to read the bans, and give permission for us to borrow the church, he insisted on checking that we had sufficient knowledge of our Faith, for him to approve.  I did not realise how short of a sense of humour the poor man was, until answering the question "How many commandments are there?", I said "Eleven".  He immediately wanted to know what was the eleventh, and was not amused when I said "Thou shalt not be found out".  He took some calming down, before we got permission.

   Veronica said that she knew he was short of a sense of humour, but she did not blame me - after all, she knew I had one (I don't think I would have been allowed to get to the stage of arranging a wedding if I had not)

   By the First Sunday of Advent, some arrangements had been made.  Veronica had bought the suit in which she was going to get married (not for her any impractical white dress in an English winter), and I had ordered a suit from a tailor in Cambridge.

   We had decided that there would be no firm booking for the honeymoon, we would drive off in the direction of a port with ferries to Ireland, and see where we got to.

   I was living, en famille, with a couple who had two children, but needed to take in a lodger, in order to assist with family finances.  Veronica was living in a one room flat (but with shared bathroom) in a large Victorian house divided into 3 or 5 flats, depending how you looked at it.  The basement and ground floor comprised, in the eyes of the owner, a single flat, but the two rooms on the ground floor were sublet by the man who lived in the basement, and Veronica had one of these rooms.  The house was near Cambridge railway station, as she was working in Letchworth, several stops down the line towards London, at a primary school.  She was leaving the flat at 6.30 am, and getting back after 6 pm, as the trains were not very fast.

   She was expecting the few days of school holiday before Christmas to be used for the final shopping necessary, and we were going to spend Christmas itself with Veronica's family in Brighton.

   Brother of the bride, John Shell, had arranged for a car to transport bride and groom to the church (in the reverse order, of course).  As the reception was to be held in the Catholic Social Club, right across the street from the church, there was no need for wheeled transport from the church to the reception.  He had also arranged for a photographer to cover the event.

   The only cloud on the horizon, was that when I went to collect my suit from the tailor on the Saturday before the first Sunday in Advent, it was not ready, but there being several weeks to go, I did not expect it to pose too big a problem.  On the Saturday before the Second Sunday of Advent, I tried to get my suit again.

   "I'm sorry, sir, it isn't here yet.  Oh, yes, definitely, it will be here by next Saturday" - so said the tailor.

   Veronica did not have the same difficulty, because we had already gone together to chose a suit for her to wear, as she did not think the weather was likely to be suitable to wear a typical traditional white wedding dress and veil.

   Veronica and I did not see eye to eye about what footwear I was going to have for the ceremony.  My normal wear was sandals (and still is).  These went well with my duffle coat and beard.  But she had decided that I should wear shoes for the wedding.  The only pair I had were those issued by the Army during my military service (during which I had been excused the wearing of boots, for medical reasons).  Veronica thought these were awful, as they were heavy, and made me sound like a herd of elephants stampeding, so she thought.

   I had booked a few days of holiday for the honeymoon.  As Veronica was a teacher, she had no problem - she would have the school holiday.  I was committed by my boss, however, that in the first week I was back from honeymoon,  I would have to deliver a paper to a learned society in London.  I thought I would have to write it in the week before Christmas.

   It was proposed that after the wedding, I would move into Veronica's flat, and we had already had a double bed in it.

   The first floor was occupied by one of Veronica's aunts (Kate), while the top floor flat was occupied by another older couple.

   The two Victorian houses further from the station constituted the Windsor Hotel.

   By Tuesday, December 19^th, it was the last working week before Christmas, and I was soon going to have to get my paper for the learned society sorted, if not that day, maybe the next or perhaps Thursday.  In the evening, I went to visit Veronica in her flat.  Veronica had finished term, and was planning to spend the next few days sorting things out before the wedding.  By the end of the evening, I was not feeling well enough to drive myself home, so I took a cab, leaving the car parked outside the flat.  I expected that I would feel better in the morning, but I did not need the car to go to work, as the family with whom I was living were just round the corner from the Company offices.  I never used it to go to work, anyway.

   I was still not feeling well in the morning, so I did not go to work.  By the middle of the day, however, I felt sufficiently recovered to take a cab, in order to go and collect the car I had left outside Veronica's flat.  Naturally I went in to see Veronica, who expressed great surprise at me feeling so much better, as she had seen how I was the night before.  I sat down on the bed, however, and said "I'm not feeling too good again, now.  Perhaps I should not have come to collect the car."  I said very little after that, except to ask, with surprise, what the carol singers were doing in the room, and refused to believe that there were none, either in the room, or in the road outside!  As our radio would only work after having been warmed in the oven, it was not the radio either.

   My knowledge of the next few days is decidedly hazy, but Veronica insists that it was well engraved on her memory, so the following is largely drawn from her recollection of the events.

   As the evening got late,  Veronica suggested that I might make a move towards my home, but by this time I was settled on the bed, and was adamant that it was my bed, and I was not going to leave it.  Veronica woke her aunt Kate in the flat above, and laid claim to her aunt's sofa for a night's uncomfortable sleep.

   The situation is now that we were still in Cambridge, with me too delerious to drive, Veronica never having learned to drive, and the wedding booked for Brighton in seven days.

   Next morning, Thursday, December 21^st, Veronica came down from her aunt's flat to her own, and found that I had not even touched the drink of orange she had left me.  I told her it was too far away, although she thought it was within easy reach.  It would have been, if I had not been so ill.  I was no better, so she called the doctor to come and see me.  The doctor left instructions that I should be kept cool, and given plenty to drink.

   Veronica went down to my tailor to collect my suit.  It was still not ready.  She laid on the line, that if I had no suit for him to marry her in, she would make sure that the world knew the reason why!  But all she got were promises, promises.

   On the Friday, the last working day before Christmas, my colleagues, who had been informed of my illness on the first day, had decided that I was unlikely to return to the Laboratory before the wedding, and so delivered the present that they had made a collection for, to my home.  They were re-directed by my landlady to Veronica's flat, where they duly appeared with an enormous fluffy blanket, and a card drawn (as was usual for these occasions) by one of the draughtsmen with artist talent.

   Veronica had decided by this time, that the chances of us getting to stay with her relatives in Brighton for Christmas were now pretty slim, so she looked for suitable food to tide us over what was likely to be our first Christmas together, and by ourselves.  Being a very novice cook, she bought a tinned chicken, tins of mixed veg, a Christmas pudding, and a mushroom shaped cake, the only one still available.

   She also thought she should get me a change of clothes, so she cycled through the freezing fog, to my lodgings, to collect whatever would be necessary.  It had snowed earlier, and the children at my lodgings had made a snowman.  I was the proud possessor of a black homburg hat, which Veronica particularly disliked, so with a great deal of satisfaction, she donated it to the snowman, knowing I was not in a fit state to object, even if I had known of it.  Some months before, she had taken care not to remind me that I had a raincoat that she disliked, as we came out of a restaurant, after an evening meal together.

   On Saturday, 23^rd December we should have been driving to Brighton, to spend Christmas with Veronica's family, prior to the wedding.  That was obviously not going to happen, but at least, Veronica was able to prise my suit out of the tailor, so something was going right.

   On this day Veronica's aunt Kate left to spend Christmas with her brother, and also the couple from the top flat departed, which Veronica was pleased about, as the lady was suffering a nervous breakdown, and would persist in lying in wait, in order to have someone to talk to.  Our landlord from the basement flat had already gone away for the holiday.

   Veronica also walked to the station to phone my parents, who were not amused that they had not heard about the finalised arrangements for the wedding.  My father had been a factory manager, and had to have everything planned in meticulous detail.  I was a great disappointment to him in this, as I had long since (probably as a reaction) become one who played things by ear, with the absolute minimum of planning (I'm no better now, really).  Meanwhile, in Veronica's adopted bed, I was still having periods of delerium, and Veronica came back to find me in a strangely hunched up position.  Having overcome her shock, she came over to me and asked me what I was doing, to be answered in an irritated tone, that couldn't she see I was in a rugger scrum?  I continued hallucinating that I was playing rugger on and off that night, and Veronica sat up with me, as she dared not leave me, because she was afraid I might take up long distance running as well.

   The next day was Christmas Eve.

Next episode