The Honeymoon Our great day arrived! When I awoke, it was a grey, wet day, but I cared little for the weather. It was our happy day. After I had visited the hairdresser, Trevor, Freda and I proceeded to my house to change into our finery. Meanwhile, at the hostel the Staff were buzzing round Jack. They enjoyed getting his smartly dressed, though there was a good deal of ribbing and hilarity in the process. Alec and his wife, Laura, would be taking him to church in their suitably large van, and then return for me at home. By 1.30 p.m. my mother was down the church, excitedly distributing the carnation buttonholes. Jack duly arrived there, pleased to see everyone, but mainly Trevor and Freda. Only Dad and I were left at home, awaiting out transport. It was a suspended moment of anticipation and nervousness. My father, non-committal as always, said little. I sat ready in my wheelchair, clutching my spray of three orchids. Hair immaculate, make-up complete, left me nothing to fiddle with. I tried to calm myself. But the enormity of the situation had hit me at last. The house was silent, and I was scared. Alec greeted me with a kiss on the forehead, took my chair. And we were on our way. His Bedford Workobus gleamed from meticulous polishing, and was decorated with white carnations and ribbons. I could feel the neighbours watching as my chair mounted the wooden ramp into the vehicle. But I could not return their gaze. The church was but a short ride away. The Press report stated "The bride arrived five minutes early." Dad clasped the handles of my chair, and soon we were moving slowly down the aisle, to the usual Wedding March. I wanted The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba, but the organist could not play it! Numerous clichés flashed through my mind as we progressed down the aisle, more slowly than usual, to keep pace with Freda's tiny steps. All the time, I could not believe it was happening. At last I reached Jack's side at the altar. Breaking tradition, I sat on his right-hand side, for an easier exchange of rings. He looked so alive and happy, and smart in every detail. We glanced at each other almost mischievously. My broad wink showed him that all was well with me, though it was hardly the greeting he expected! My brother Gerard, now eleven years old, served as the Altar Boy. It was all real after all, and happening to us. The Service was simple, and full of true meaning. There must have been mixed feelings amongst those in the congregation. Miss Barnes summed up her own impressions later, in a spontaneously worded letter which said: "It finally confirmed all I had believed so far." Little did we realise what a big influence she would have on our future. Outside the church once more, the sun began to penetrate the clouds in time for the photographs. There were jocular remarks about the number of children clustered around the bride and groom! Sitting on my lap was one-year-old Andrew, son of Trevor and Freda. "About time you got married, isn't it?," jibed someone. Then we joined the party in the crowded reception room, and thereafter time passed quickly. Before long I was changed into my self-styled lilac going-away suit, and Jack was making his little speeches We boarded the Bedford, and departed at 3.30p.m. A long journey lay ahead to our honeymoon destination, and Alec and Laura had arranged to stay overnight with some friends in Surrey. The sun shone brilliantly as we set off. Bright conversation accompanied the first part of the journey. Then there were different feelings coming over us. We were travelling into the unknown. Many uncertainties crowned our minds during those four hours on the road. What kind of treatment would we get? So much depended on how Jack was seated in his chair, for sometimes he could not feed himself. Would there be any expert hands available at all? We became less and less talkative, but fortunately Alec and Laura seemed unaware. Finally we turned off the narrow country road and into the bumpy driveway. We parked outside the lovely old house, and immediately liked what we saw of the trees, lawns and flowerbeds. Alec went inside to deal with the formalities, and we were warmly received in a large room with a beautiful view. "Supper is over, I'm afraid, but would you like a cup of tea?" We had resolved to guard our secret of being newly-weds as far as possible. Therefore, we hoped it surprised everyone when the removal of Jack's coat showered confetti over the floor! "Oh, we've been to a wedding today," we excused ourselves. We drank our tea, and Alec and Laura left, giving a telephone number for any necessary contact. Our bedroom was spacious and inviting, and the flower arrangement made it homely. My own spray of orchids was put in water. "The bride gave me her bouquet," I bluffed again. These week attempts at hiding the facts amused me, though we must have been as obvious as if we had hung a "Just Married" notice around our necks. With the unpacking completed, we were left alone to take stock of our new surroundings. Room 14 seemed very pleasant indeed. The large patio doors overlooked another lawn fringed with rose bushes, and a huge oak tree shaded the paved area immediately outside. Only one thing spoilt the illusion. The two hospital-type beds were meaningfully separated by the bedside lockers! Well, perhaps our hosts could be excused this once. After all, they were not supposed to know that Mr and Mrs Wymer were newly married. Having been used always to being told what to do, we were soon surprised to find that we ourselves had to call the tune. Guests could stay up as late as they liked, but by 9.30 p.m. we were both feeling very tired. Jack elected to be first, and set off to find a helper. It took some courage in a strange place, feeling exhausted as he was from the day's exceptional circumstances. But the bed-time routine was made easier by the ready willingness of the two young men he chose. Not only was he made comfortable, but he succeeded in getting the beds pushed together. I allowed Jack half an hour, then I approached our room, when the helpers were just folding his clothes. Jack was lying down, looking relaxed and happy. There was an air of light-hearted amusement. "Your husband's a right comedian," said one. "Your husband." I considered the phrase briefly. It impressed me. It was the first time anyone had said it. I smiled then, not so much from hearing the phrase, but more from relief. Jack must be feeling good, for his sense of humour to show already! The lads continued joking with my two girls. Now all fears were banished. The atmosphere was arm and bright, and these young people were out to please us. Thoughts of embarrassment were ignored. It mattered little who we were, or what we could do. I was soon undressed and settled down. Our young friends were happy to respond to every request, and we were determined to get as close as our uncooperative bodies permitted. When it came to moving me near to Jack, they got on the bed as well, and lifted me across, amidst giggles at their own antics! The trained night-nurse popped in to see that all was well, and having placed the nurse- call bell on its lead for our convenience, all the helpers left the room. At last we were alone. Snuggled close together, we shared one set of bed-clothes. The warmth we experienced from simply holding hands all those years ago was magnified a million times, and flooded over us. The bed smelled fresh and clean and strange, but Jack smelled just like Jack. So close were our bodies that we could feel and hear our hearts beating in rapid rhythm. For a long time we revelled in these simple sensations. What more could we want? Perhaps our works were those of all young lovers, repeated thousands of times through all ages. Yet they were spoken with a fresh and meaningful importance. Even more important to us was the fact that, despite all the odds, we were now husband and wife. Slowly, gratefully, we fell asleep. The next day dawned bright with sunshine. In fact, the sun shone brilliantly every day for those two weeks, and we spent much of our time outside, often selecting a quiet corner of the gardens to be left alone together. We felt at piece with the world and even more in love. We could not get enough of one another. "I just want all of you , all the time, " Jack once said. I shared his longing. Just being together seemed such a little to ask. "Perhaps we'll find out about a suitable place where they accept married couples?" I ventured. "Attitudes will have to change a lot before that happens." Jack was less optimistic. "Never mind. We'll be together one day, I'm sure." There the matter would rest, as our attention was caught by the sudden appearance of two squirrels playing "statues" on the lawn. We soon became friendly with our fellow guests and helpers, and often shred a jig-saw or a hand at cards. Outings were arranged, but we preferred to stay put. There was the inevitable with which to amuse ourselves, or the radio and books. We sat watching the Test Match on television for several hours, punctuated with trying to solve crossword puzzles. "Who'd have thought honeymoons were made of this?" quipped Jack one day. On the last night, we lay awake for hours, clinging to all those treasured memories. But we were determined to be together somehow, even if it meant leaving our home town to find suitable accommodation. Meantime, we consoled ourselves with the thought that there would be other holidays. And of course Trevor's and Freda's offers to stay remained open. Almost regretfully, Alec and Laura arrived punctually on Saturday morning. Significantly, the sun had gone. The return journey was dull. Silently, we each prepared ourselves for yet another inevitable separation. But we would be eased into the reality this time, by a further three days' stay with our friends. So when we unloaded at the hostel, we waited for Trevor to fetch us in his car. In this way, we were gradually brought down to earth, and things turned out quite well for that.