Read Online Coronation Wives by Lizzie Lane - Free Book Online Page B

was not her old self. ‘She told us that her granny was making her a grey scarf for Christmas and that they would match the gloves she was wearing. She seemed oblivious to the fact that the temperature was in the eighties and climbing.’
    Edna had hoped it would be explanation enough. Polly persisted. ‘What are you going to do about it?’
    ‘Nothing. There’s nothing I can do. I have three children and a husband to think about.’
    Edna pushed the problem to the back of her mind. This was Pamela’s birthday. The child was strapped into her high chair as Edna spooned jelly into her open mouth while pondering past disappointments rather than any pity she might feel for her mother.
    A spoon hammering against the side of the chair interrupted her concentration. A freckled face framed by sandy hair looked up at her. ‘Where’s Daddy?’ asked Peter.
    ‘Getting dressed, of course,’ said Susan. The eldest at seven, she looked more like her mother although she had also inherited her father’s amiable confidence and his unruly thatch of gingery fair hair.
    Peter frowned and, looking slightly worried, whispered, ‘Is he going to wear a dress like yours, Mum?’
    Susan interjected in her usual knowledgeable manner. ‘He’s going to put on fancy dress, you silly boy. It’s going to be a very special dress.’
    Polly nudged Edna in the ribs. ‘Not dressed as Widow Twanky, is he?’
    Edna laughed. ‘Of course not. He won’t be wearing a dress.’ She beamed at the small faces around the table. ‘He’ll look bright and merry – just like us!’
    All the children were wearing different outfits, most made from crepe paper in the appropriate colours of red, white andblue. Edna was dressed in a gingham dress with puff sleeves. She wore her hair in pigtails ending in big white bows, which made her feel very girlish even though she was in her early thirties and a mother. Today was magical. Tomorrow would be even better because everyone would be dressing up, partying and toasting the new queen with anything drinkable.
    Charlotte was dressed in something long, made of mauve lamé and possibly dating from before the First World War. Her hair was covered by a beaded cap and when she wasn’t dishing out jelly she was carrying an ebony cigarette holder.
    ‘And before you ask I’m supposed to be Mata Hari,’ she informed Polly.
    ‘I see.’ Polly turned to Edna. ‘Obviously you’re Alice in Wonderland.’
    ‘No, I’m not,’ said Edna, embarrassed because she’d considered her outfit so obvious and badly wanted both today and tomorrow to be a great success.
    Polly looked surprised, but also took wicked pleasure from Edna’s discomfort. ‘Go on then. Tell me who you’re supposed to be.’
    Before Edna could explain a loud clattering and clanking sound came down the stairs and along the hall. The door suddenly burst open and half a dozen small voices squealed with delight.
    All eyes turned to where Colin Smith filled the frame. They gasped in amazement. Colin’s body and arms were covered in cardboard that had been painted battleship grey to resemble metal. The colander on his head – used mostly for straining dried peas that turned to a mush when they were cooked – was made of real metal. So, unfortunately, were the shiny legs sticking out of what remained of his Royal Navy shorts (tropical-issue). They’d once been white, but were now grey and toned with the rest of his outfit. A host of metal kitchenutensils dangled and jangled from his waist.
    Polly sighed knowingly. ‘Ah! The Tin Man!’ She grinned at Edna. ‘And Dorothy!’
    ‘I’m the Tin Man and I’m going to take you all to find the Wizard of Oz,’ Colin exclaimed loudly.
    Even Edna’s father smiled as the children, including Polly’s daughter Carol, abandoned quivering jellies and bright pink blancmange. Like a wave of noisy gulls they fell off their chairs and surrounded him. A flock of small voices squealed with delight.
    Colin’s parents