Chapters (60)
- The Wedding Dress Maker
- Also by Leah Fleming
- The Wedding Dress Maker
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Contents
- 1
- A Wednesday Afternoon in May 1949
- Early on Friday Morning
- September 1937
- May 1949, Friday
- September 1939
- May 1949, Friday
- Dressing Miss Forsyth, June 1942
- May 1949, Friday
- 2
- Rae, 1944
- Summer 1944
- May 1949, Friday
- August 1944
- May 1949, Friday
- Ten Days in March 1945
- On The Tenth Day, 1945
- May 1949, Friday at Noon
- Park Royal, Spring 1945
- May 1949, Saturday Morning
- 3
- Snapshots from The Royal, 1945
- May 1949, Saturday Morning
- Hogmanay, 1945
- A Secret Outing
- Saturday, Midday on Shap Fell, 1949
- 4
- February 1946
- Nothing To Write Home About, March 1946
- Homeward Bound, July 1946
- Saturday Afternoon in Kendal, 1949
- 5
- In the Winter of 1947
- The Texas Rangers, Autumn 1947
- Spring 1948
- Saturday Teatime in Kendal, 1949
- 6
- Dancing on the Green, Summer 1948
- Showdown
- Christmas 1948
- Window Shopping in Kendal, May 1949
- 7
- Into 1949
- Forks in the Path, March 1949
- Late Afternoon in Kendal, May 1949
- 8
- The Same Saturday Afternoon at Brigg Farm
- Staying On, June 1949
- 9
- Back to Griseley, June 1949
- On Carrick Sands, September 1949
- Acknowledgements
- Author the Author
- An Invitation from the Publisher
‘Steady the Buffs, old girl, don’t get all het up. It’s early days, your release was unexpected. I suppose they wanted to clear the decks for Hogmanay. I’ve had a letter to say you’ve passed muster but you must go slowly. Surely you didn’t expect to walk in and take over as if none of this had happened? Your father paid for the best care and under the circumstances I think he’s been a Trojan. I’m sure he’ll support you for as long as is necessary but the bairn doesn’t know you from Adam, does he? Peg stepped into the breach like a real trooper, beyond the call of duty if you ask my opinion, especially as she can’t have a bairn of her own. They are the “kent” faces baby Nichol turns to and they love him like their own. Why should they let you walk away with him, with no home, no income, no place to call your own?’
‘That’s no my fault, you’ve just said so!’
‘Aye, but a real mother wants what’s best for her bairn and won’t just upsticks and dump him in a day nursery while she earns her living, will she?’
‘Thousands of women had to do that in the war,’ Netta argued.
‘But the war’s over, Jeanette, and you weren’t there to see them flocking back to their hearth and home to be housewives and mothers again. Think about it. A good mother never sacrifices her child’s welfare and chance of education. She wants the best for her child. Do you catch my drift, young lady?’
‘Are you saying I should leave him at Stratharvar, walk away from my baby as if he’d never been born?’
The Doctor leaned back on his chair, fingers pressed together, and said nothing.
‘Are you telling me to give him over to his grandparents?’
‘You did that once already, Jeanette, when you were ill. They stood by you then and saw you got the best treatment. You’ve already made the sacrifice. They’ll make good parents and give him a fine education, a secure home in beautiful surroundings. Many girls in your situation would gladly yield up their babies to a home such as theirs.’ Netta was shaking at his meaning, trembling with indignation. He was not listening to her pleas at all.