Cindy Jones by Margaret Pearce Page B

wedding day? She did seem less in control than usual.
    Cindy saw that both Constance and Prunella had whipped out their mobile phones in the same matching blue as their dresses and were whispering into them.
    People rushed up to shake Tom Barry’s hand and congratulate Mrs. Barry on her husband’s return. Mrs. Barry’s smile was wavering, but she kept assuring everyone how happy she was.
    The professor, deep in a conversation with the minister, stopped talking to him, turned around, raised his voice and called for silence.
    â€œFriends,” he said. “I think we are all happy about Tom’s return and equally happy for Guinevere and the girls to regain both a husband and father. I am inviting you all to celebrate the welcome home for Tom Barry.”
    The uproar became general. The caterers circulated with trays of drinks and savories, until the guests all settled at the tables and started eating. Tom Barry sat at the wedding table with his wife. The professor found another chair and sat beside Cindy.
    After they had finished eating, Cindy’s father radiated goodwill and happiness as he stood to propose a toast to the newly reunited family.
    â€œDo you think Dad is relieved not to be marrying Mrs. Barry?” Cindy whispered to Gretta as she went past filling glasses with champagne.
    â€œI don’t think the professor would make a good bigamist.” Gretta chuckled.
    Prunella’s face glowed with happiness. For the first time since Cindy had known her, she looked pretty.
    â€œIsn’t it wonderful, Cindy,” she mumbled through her fruit salad and ice cream. “It’s like having all your wishes come true at once. I’ve got my father back. I’m going to have a canary of my own. We’re going to live at Seaview and go to school there. I’m just so happy, Cindy, and I owe it all to you.”
    â€œThat common old fisherman can’t be my father,” Constance sneered. “My father was distinguished and dignified. I just won’t leave all my friends to live in a horrid, moldy fishing village.”
    â€œYes you will, missy,” warned Tom Barry. “And I’ll expect you to study a lot harder next year, or you will start work at the fish cannery.”
    â€œFish cannery,” Constance screeched. “You wouldn’t dare! Mother wouldn’t let me do anything so gross.”
    â€œYour mother will agree with me, missy,” Tom snapped. “Now put a pleasant expression on your face and make yourself useful.”
    Constance stood up without a word and started collecting the dirty plates.
    â€œIt’s a terrific welcome home party, Dad,” Cindy whispered to her father.
    â€œVery successful, Cindy.”
    The professor watched Gretta as she came over to their table again. Gretta looked at the professor. A secret smile dimpled the side of her mouth. The professor smiled up at her.
    â€œWould you be terribly disappointed in me if I kept the idea of a wedding in mind?” he whispered to Cindy.
    Cindy glowed with pleasure. Yes, Gretta would certainly do as a replacement stepmother! “With all the practice, another wedding should be easy to organize.” A sudden thought struck Cindy. “Why didn’t you tell me that Miss Hopkins was my godmother?”
    â€œI’m sure I told you at some stage that Miss Hopkins was your godmother, and George McLaren your godfather,” the professor explained. “Miss Hopkins knew your mother all her life.”
    â€œShe’s been just like a fairy godmother,” Cindy said with a happy sigh. “Everything has turned out so right. She must have worked magic to fix my life so well.”
    â€œI don’t know about that.” The professor looked at Cindy. “I’m surprised at you, Cindy. An almost grown-up young lady like you, being so fanciful!”
    Gretta and Cindy exchanged glances. Cindy smiled at her father. He probably didn’t