Magda's Daughter Read Free Page B

slipped his arm around Helena’s shoulders. ‘Congratulations, sunshine.’
    Magda touched her glass to Helena’s. ‘To your future. May you always be as blessed as you are today. And now we must lay the table. I invited your mother and father to supper, Eddie. They’ll be here in an hour and I haven’t even mixed the dough for the pierogi. I thought I’d stuff them with raspberries and strawberries. They were very good on the market today.’
    Helena gave Ned a sympathetic smile. Named and christened Edward after his mother’s brother, who had been killed fighting in the war, he had been called Eddie for the first eighteen years of his life by his family and everyone in Pontypridd. But as soon as he left his home town for BristolUniversity he changed it to Ned. Even his parents had capitulated and accepted the change he had engineered, but Magda stubbornly clung to Eddie.
    â€˜I’ll put Helena’s suitcases in her bedroom.’ Ned replaced his glass on the tray.
    â€˜No, you will not, young man.’ Magda wagged her finger at him. ‘You will leave them outside the door because it is not proper for a man to go into a young girl’s bedroom. And, after you’ve left them, you will come back here, extend the table and slot in the extra leaf. We’ll need it. Mrs Raschenko will be here as well.’
    â€˜Auntie Alma is coming?’ Helena beamed. Alma Raschenko – a widow who owned a chain of cooked meat and pie shops that existed on the high streets of every town and village in South Wales – was not only her mother’s employer but also a close friend and her godmother. As Magda frequently said, she was the nearest person they had to a relative.
    â€˜Helena, you arrange the flowers and check the silver is clean while Eddie sorts the table. I’ll see to the food.’
    Ned gave Helena a surreptitious wink before picking up the suitcases. Happy, as her momentous news finally begin to sink in, she kissed him.
    â€˜Helena, we have work to do,’ Magda rebuked. ‘The time for kissing will be after the wedding. There are too many things to do first.’
    â€˜I’ve made the most important arrangements, Magda.’ Ned couldn’t resist irritating his future mother-in-law. ‘Train tickets to Venice and two weeks in a hotel overlooking the Grand Canal.’
    â€˜I was talking about the hundred and one things that need doing before the ceremony. The cake, the reception, the food for the guests, the dresses for your sisters and the other bridesmaids, the flowers, Helena’s gown …’
    â€˜Has it come?’ Helena asked.
    â€˜It’s in your room, which is why I wouldn’t let Eddie go in there.’ Magda lowered her voice and pointed to Ned, who’d returned to the living room and was opening the dining table ready to insert the extra leaf. ‘You can see it after you’ve arranged the flowers and I’ve finished making the pierogi.’
    â€˜It’s beautiful, Helena. You’ll be a fairytale bride,’ Alma Raschenko predicted when Magda proudly showed off the wedding dress and lace veil that had been made for her daughter.
    The minute they’d finished eating Magda’s excellent supper, Helena, Alma and Ned’s mother, Bethan, had left Ned and his father, and closeted themselves in Helena’s bedroom to admire the gown, tiara and wedding finery Magda had bought.
    â€˜Won’t she just.’ Magda lifted the crystal-ornamented bodice of the white silk gown so the beads caught the light.
    â€˜Now,’ Alma smiled conspiratorially, ‘what about your trousseau, Helena? Have you bought your lingerie?’
    â€˜We’re going to Cardiff on Thursday after I’ve closed the shop for half-day.’ Magda looked as excited as if she were about to buy her own trousseau.
    â€˜Why don’t I meet you there? We’ll make a day of