It was raining again, and Victoria Station was just ahead, so she ran inside, hoping she’d be able to find the entrance to its Underground stop without going back into the rain. She’d never had cause to use the stop before, nor the rail station above—
No. The night she had come to England, her train had arrived at Victoria. Not even ten months distant, though her memories since then encompassed something like a lifetime. So much had changed over those months.
On the far side of the arrivals hall, a group of people were gathered around a newsagent’s kiosk. She approached, indulging her curiosity, for it was only a few minutes past eleven thirty. Ann would still be at the abbey for some time.
A portable wireless, the size of a large hatbox, had been set up on the counter of the kiosk. The people were listening to someone speak, a man with a deep, sonorous voice, but he was not a newsreader, for there was something in the cadence of his words that made her think of poetry. She inched ever closer, straining to make out the words. It was a prayer, not poetry. The group of people were listening to the royal wedding.
The prayer ended, and another man began to speak, and then she was surprised to hear the softer voice of a young woman. The princess herself, making her promises in a clear, high voice. Around Miriam, the other listeners smiled, and some even wiped tears from their eyes. It was rather moving, she decided, if not quite enough to bring her to tears, and she was tempted to remain and listen until the end.
Ann had said the entire ceremony would be broadcast again that evening, however, and she much preferred to listen to it with her friend at her side, if only so she might have the unfamiliar parts of the wedding service explained to her. So she stepped back and continued to the Underground entrance a few yards away, and in another forty-five minutes she was home.
She was shivering by the time she walked through the door, for the rain had been falling hard enough to soak through her coat. After exchanging her good suit for her warmest skirt and jumper, she built a small fire in the sitting room hearth, which quickly took the chill out of the air, and filled the kettle with fresh water. Ann would certainly want a cup of tea when she returned.
She was still setting out the tea things when the front door opened.
“Miriam? Are you there?”
“I am. I had not thought you would be home so early.”
“Me neither. I thought I’d have to fight my way through the crowds, but everyone outside the abbey charged off in the direction of the palace. The Tube was practically empty.”
“You should change. I will put the kettle on to boil.”
When Ann came downstairs again, she wore her nightgown, robe, and slippers. “I know, I know. It’s not even one o’clock. But I’m that tired. Seemed like the easiest thing to put on.” With that, she flopped down on the sofa and let out a long and rather tremulous sigh.
“Are you hungry? There is not much in the larder, but we have some bread, and a tin of sardines, too.”
Ann shut her eyes and let her head rest against the back of the sofa. “Maybe just some tea. Now, tell me all about the palace. Were you upstairs in the private apartments?”
“Yes, but I only saw the princess’s sitting room. After that Betty and I went to help with the bridesmaids. We did see Princess Elizabeth before she left.”
“How did she look in the gown?”
“Beautiful,” Miriam said honestly. “Beautiful, and very happy, too.”
“They’ll be coming out on the balcony soon. Do you want to switch on the wireless?”
At first, all Miriam could make out was a thrum of voices and cheering and the occasional car horn, but then, after a minute or two, a melody emerged from the din. The great crowd was singing, a choir of hundreds of thousands, and had she still been inside the palace she would have been deafened by it.
“‘All the Nice Girls Love a Sailor,’” Ann guessed. “I can’t imagine Queen Mary’ll approve of that.”
There was an even greater roar from the crowd, so loud it drowned out the song, and at that moment the BBC announcer began to speak.
“The doors are opening, and here is Her Royal Highness the bride, and the Duke of Edinburgh is at her side. They are standing alone on the balcony and receiving a tremendous ovation from the crowd. Listen to them now—just listen to the crowd as they cheer. And now we have the whole family group before us, on this famous balcony, and the princess is waving. This is what we’ll all remember. This is the picture of the day that we shall all remember.”
“That’s all we’ll see of them until they leave for their honeymoon,” Ann said after another minute or two. “Do you want to turn it down a bit?”