Applause (The Dudley Sisters Saga Book 2) by Madalyn Morgan (best authors to read txt) 📕

that day. Being a Saturday, there was a matinee and an evening show to get through. But she spent the following day packing the things that she and Bill could manage without until they moved into their new home.

The week flew by, but Margot managed to pack a little each day, before and after work. The day before they moved, Bill couldn’t find any clean socks – Margot had packed them.

Two of Bill’s mates from St. Thomas’s and Margot’s friend Jenny, who worked with him now on the ambulances, arrived at ten o’clock and loaded up a van that Bill had borrowed from work. The rooms, which had been home to Margot and Bill for so long, looked sad without Margot’s bright furnishings.

With his arm around Margot’s shoulder, Bill said, ‘We’ve been happy here, haven’t we?’

‘Yes we have; very happy. But we’ll be happy in Covent Garden too – and without so much travelling we’ll be able to spend more time together.’

‘There’s that,’ Bill said, giving her a gentle squeeze. ‘Right!’ he said, kissing her on the cheek. ‘I’d better go down and tell the lads they can get off. Next stop Covent Garden.’

‘I’ll have a quick look round, check we haven’t forgotten anything. I’ll be down in a sec.’

‘Okay, don’t be long.’

Margot walked through each of the rooms that had been home to her and Bill since soon after they were married. She stopped for a moment in the living room with its tiny kitchenette, where she had often burnt their dinner, before checking the bedroom. She sighed. Even when she’d kept secrets from him and he found out, Bill always forgave her, and they always made up. There had been some tears, but there had been much more laughter. As she left, Margot looked back and smiled before closing the door.

Having invited their friends Anton and Natalie to lunch the following Sunday, Margot and Bill said goodbye and travelled to number 3 Oxford Mews on Bill’s motorbike.

‘Well, Mrs Burrell,’ Bill said, after locking their helmets in the panniers. ‘Isn’t this where I carry you over the threshold?’

‘I think it is, Mr Burrell.’ Margot put her arms around her husband’s neck and lifted one leg.

‘Give me the key and I’ll open the door,’ Bill said.

‘You’ve got the key!’ Margot put her leg down. ‘I gave it to you before we left. Oh Bill! What have you done with it?’

‘Only joking,’ he said, producing the key from a pocket inside his jacket.

‘Thank goodness. I thought we’d have to go all the way back to Hampstead.’ Margot watched Bill put the key in the lock and, squeezing his arm, jumped with joy when he turned it and she heard the click that said it was unlocked. Together, laughing like a pair of teenagers, they pushed the door open.

Margot clapped her hands before putting her arms around Bill’s neck again. Bill smiled and lifted her up. He carried her over the threshold, kicked the door shut behind them, and mounted the stairs. Outside the apartment, Bill set Margot down and took another key from his pocket. ‘I think you should open this door, Mrs Burrell.’

Margot took the brass key, put it in the lock and turned it. When she heard the lock click a broad smile spread across her face. She pushed open the door. ‘I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you over this threshold though.’

‘Then I’ll have to carry you again,’ Bill said, picking her up. ‘There’s a new piece of furniture in the flat.’

‘Oh? What is it?’

‘I’ll show you.’

Margot squealed with delight when Bill took her into the bedroom and laid her on the new bed. An hour later there was a knock at the door. Giggling, Margot pulled on her skirt and blouse and slipped her feet into her shoes. ‘Coming!’ she shouted out of the window, before running downstairs to welcome the friends who had brought their belongings.

‘What are you doing here?’ Margot said, throwing her arms around Natalie. ‘I didn’t think we’d be seeing you until next week.’

‘Thought we’d surprise you,’ she said, beckoning Anton. ‘Anyone for champagne?’ Natalie shouted, waving a bottle in the air.

Margot laughed. ‘Lovely idea, but we haven’t got any glasses.’

‘We have,’ Anton shouted, from the boot of his car.

‘Then yes please!’

‘What are you doing standing on the doorstep? Come in,’ Bill said, arriving at Margot’s side. ‘Take everyone up, sweetheart,’ he said, standing to one side to let them pass. ‘I’ll hang on for Anton.’

After a toast of champagne, the men brought in Margot and Bill’s belongings.

‘If you tell the lads where you want the boxes, it will be less work for you and Bill later,’ Natalie said.

‘Good idea.’

Anton brought the first box. ‘Bedding,’ Margot said, pointing to the bedroom. ‘That box too, it’s dressing table stuff. Cutlery in the kitchen – and that’s bathroom. Suitcases in the bedroom – I’ll unpack them later – and coats in the hall. Everything else can go in the single bedroom. It’s the door on the left as you come in. I’ll sort it out later.’

When the pots, pans and crockery had been stacked on the work surfaces in the kitchen, Natalie said, ‘There’s one more box. Anton, would you fetch it?’

‘Of course.’ When he returned it was with a hamper, which he placed on the dining table.

Margot opened it and caught her breath. ‘There’s enough food here to feed half the theatre.’

Everyone laughed. And as if on cue there was a knock at the door. ‘I think you’d better answer that, darling, as you’re the hostess!’

Margot scrunched up her shoulders and put her hands up to her cheeks. ‘Bill Burrell, I love you!’ she said before running down the stairs and opening the door to see Nancy, George, Betsy, Mrs Horton and Miss Lesley, who said