The Marriage Bureau: The True Story of How Two Matchmakers Arranged Love in Wartime London

By Penrose Halson

A riveting glimpse of life and love during and after World War II—a heart-warming, touching, and thoroughly absorbing true story of a world gone by.

In the spring of 1939, with the Second World War looming, two determined twenty-four-year-olds, Heather Jenner and Mary Oliver, decided to open a marriage bureau. They found a tiny office on London’s Bond Street and set about the delicate business of matchmaking. Drawing on the bureau’s extensive archives, Penrose Halson—who many years later found herself the proprietor of the bureau—tells their story, and those of their clients.

From shop girls to debutantes; widowers to war veterans, clients came in search of security, social acceptance, or simply love. And thanks to the meticulous organization and astute intuition of the Bureau’s matchmakers, most found what they were looking for.

Penrose Halson draws from newspaper and magazine articles, advertisements, and interviews with the proprietors themselves to bring the romance and heartbreak of matchmaking during wartime to vivid, often hilarious, life in this unforgettable story of a most unusual business.

“A book full of charm and hilarity.”—Country Life

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: May 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9780062562678

Penrose Halson

Penrose Halson's career encompassed teaching, writing, editing and, to her astonishment, becoming first lady Master of a City Livery Company. Her determined mother sent her to the Katharine Allen Marriage & Advice Bureau, of which she became proprietor in 1986. In 1992 it incorporated Heather Jenner's agency. Aged forty-eight she finally delighted her mother by marrying and lives in London with her husband. She is the author of Marriages Are Made in Bond Street.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Buy a marriage bureau? You and me? You must be joking!

No, said Bill, I’m totally serious. You can interview the clients and do the matchmaking—you’re very good at that, I know—and I’ll do the finances and the advertising. Come on, let’s do it!

So we did. In 1986, after a motley career in writing, editing and teaching, I found myself, aged forty-six, sitting in a cramped little office in a seedy alley off Oxford Street, nervously awaiting my first client as proprietress of the Katharine Allen Marriage & Advice Bureau.

KA had been founded in 1960, modeled closely on the Marriage Bureau established by Heather Jenner and Mary Oliver in 1939. In 1992, faced with a 700 percent rent increase, Heather Jenner’s daughter asked me to take over her clients. So two small, eccentric, individualistic institutions became one. Their story begins in Assam, Northeast India, in 1938 . . .

1

Audrey’s Uncle Has a Brain Wave

In 1938, farmer’s daughter Audrey Parsons was staying with her uncle, a tea planter who managed a remote plantation in the hills of Assam. Audrey was twenty-four, pretty, petite and fragile-looking, with a pink and white complexion, dark hair, big brown eyes and an infectious laugh.

Six years earlier, after a whirlwind romance in England, she had sailed out to India to marry a young man who worked for her uncle. When she had first met him in England, Peter had seemed as exciting as Audrey could desire in a husband, and she had been in raptures as they went from ball to party in a dizzying round of gaiety. But in India she found him passionately (for him) and tediously (for her) absorbed in his work, and juvenile, dull and vapid when not busily engaged in planting tea.

I am sorry, Uncle George, she had apologized, but I simply cannot marry Peter. I shall go home and think what to do next.

Uncle George was exceedingly fond of his vivacious niece, and sympathized since, much as he liked Peter, who was an ideal employee, he could see that she was not cut out for a conventional marriage to a pleasant, straightforward but unoriginal man in a remote and lonely place. Sorrowfully he waved her goodbye, begging her to come back soon to add sparkle to his solitary life. Most of the time he was content, but the isolation of his plantation, miles from any of his handful of European neighbors, sometimes threatened to overwhelm him.

So Audrey had returned to her parents in Cambridgeshire. Her father, a down-to-earth farmer, was dismayed by her attitude: I liked Peter. He’s not a chinless wonder with a one-track mind, like you say he is, my girl—he’s a decent fellow with a good future. You’re being too picky, like you always have been, always wanting something else. What do you think you’re going to do now? You can’t stay here forever; I can’t keep you. You don’t like our farm anyway—you’re always off to London whenever you can. Find yourself a husband and get out!

Audrey’s mother was a bit more lenient, but nevertheless insistent that Audrey had to marry. One of her two brothers would eventually take over the farm, which had been in the family for generations, and there would be no place for Audrey in the farmhouse.

But Audrey’s brush with possible matrimony had made her long to try some other way of life. In a local newspaper she spotted an advertisement for a job in a factory, packing and labeling papers for dispatch. Determined to be independent and to earn some money, she applied and had a short interview with the factory manager, who was so startled that a girl so well-spoken and smartly dressed should want such a menial job that he bowed to her enthusiasm and said she could start next week.

Audrey found the work physically exhausting and mind-blowingly boring, but she earned £1 a week, which was just enough for her to live in factory girls’ lodgings. By the end of the day she was weary, but not too tired to want some entertainment, of which there was none apart from the local cinema. The other girls regarded her with deep suspicion. Audrey did not dress like them, she did not talk like them, she was patently not one of them. They largely ignored her, excluding her from their interminable heart-to-hearts about makeup and boyfriends.

It did not take many weeks before Audrey quailed at the dismal prospect of confronting another mountain of parcels, and of turning a deaf ear to yet another animated description of the relative merits of Ted and Fred. However, she had proved herself to be an independent woman with a spirit of adventure. She continued to demonstrate her success by getting a job as a dentist’s receptionist, making appointments and soothing fearful patients.

On her first day, the dentist instructed her to leave her desk to assist him with an extraction, during which she was to observe where the torn-out teeth landed, pick them up, and wipe the blood off the floor. She promptly handed in her notice, marched out banging the door behind her, and walked up the street, until a card in an office window caught her eye: a photographer’s assistant was required.

Once again Audrey found it easy to get the job, but hard to like it enough to stay. The negatives were developed in a darkroom, which she found oppressive and almost frightening. Her employer added to her discomfort by reprimanding her sharply when, in the unaccustomed darkness, she dropped a vital roll of film, or bumped into a tank of precious developing liquid. Late every afternoon she stumbled blinking into the daylight, until she admitted defeat and handed in her notice before, she feared, she was told to go.

As the years passed, the thrill of being independent began to wear thin. Audrey yearned to travel, but could not afford to; and without qualifications, only menial work was open to her. She got a job delivering for a cake shop, but it ended when she was caught eating the tastiest cakes. Her final act of defiance was a job as a riding instructor. She was an excellent horsewoman, having been in the saddle since she was two, and a good teacher; but once again the job description had not been precise, and she jibbed when instructed to muck out the stables.

Audrey walked home from the riding school wondering what on earth to do next. In the hall of the farmhouse she found an air letter: Uncle George would gladly pay her fare if she would come and lighten his life again (and there would be no embarrassing meetings with Peter, since he now had his own tea plantation, many miles away).

Desperate to escape the recriminations of her father and the tight-lipped reproach of her mother, Audrey accepted this generous offer and once again took ship for Assam. Her uncle was delighted to have her company, and took her around to meet his neighbors, often half a day’s ride away. Social occasions were few and far between, but Uncle George made an effort to entertain his favorite niece, introducing her to several single men. After her unsociable life in search of independence, Audrey got a kick out of flirting with the men, who were all itching to get married, but for whom there were scarcely any potential wives in Assam. At night, though, she lay in bed disconsolately considering her future: I can’t stay here for ever, and I can’t go back home and flit from job to job. Perhaps I shall have to give up and get married after all.

So, in an uncharacteristically low moment, Audrey accepted the proposal of a most eligible man. However, as with her jobs, she found it easy to get engaged but hard to carry the engagement through to its logical conclusion: marriage. Her much older fiancé constantly lectured her about the wifely duties he expected. In return for his protection, she was to defer to her lord and master in an appropriately servile manner. Obeying would be the order of the day, not laughing and having fun and doing interesting things together. Growing more and more apprehensive, with a lavish and expensive wedding imminent, Audrey handed back her engagement ring.

Once again, Uncle George was sympathetic. His own hasty, superficially suitable marriage had brought misery to both him and his wife, who for many years had lived in England. Before his niece left, he made a suggestion that was to change life not only for Audrey but also for countless others: When you get back to England, why not do something about introducing the single young men you’ve met here—and, you know, there are thousands more like them—to marriage-minded young women, during their leave in England? As you’ve observed, marriageable girls are like gold dust here, and when the men are back on leave it’s hard for them to get to know the right sort of girls after being abroad for so long, and falling out of touch with their old friends. Think about it, my dear.

During the voyage back to England, Audrey pondered on this suggestion. It piqued her imagination. But what on earth could she do about it?

Back at her parents’ farmhouse Audrey was greeted coldly. Mr. Parsons could scarcely conceal his anger at her failure to get off his hands by doing what every normal young woman did: get married. His wife too was becoming intolerant of Audrey’s bizarre behavior. Why could not her only daughter behave like other girls?

Audrey sought escape, any escape, preferably to somewhere far, far away. She answered an advertisement for a lady’s maid in the Governesses, Companions, and Lady Helps classified column of the Lady magazine, as the advertiser, an autocratic widow, said she was about to embark for the Far East. Audrey was paid twelve shillings and sixpence a week, plus her board and lodging. Preparing her extensive wardrobe for the voyage, the widow instructed Audrey to sew in old-fashioned dress preservers, designed to protect clothes from underarm perspiration. Thinking these strange objects were padding, Audrey sewed them neatly and firmly into the shoulders of all her employer’s dresses. She was promptly dismissed.

Not finding another job abroad, Audrey settled for becoming a games mistress, which she loathed, and then a chauffeuse. Her parents had refused to let her learn to drive in their car, for in any case why did she need to drive? Her husband would do any necessary driving. Fortunately her employer, a neurotic old woman who took drugs to calm her nerves, was so sedated that she did not notice that, driving up Ludgate Hill, Audrey sped along the pavement.

Audrey’s final employer, an equally elderly but iron-nerved lady, took her on as skipper on her private yacht. Audrey could scarcely tell a yacht from a canoe, but in the train on her way down to the east coast she read some informative books, picked up the basics, and took to running the forty-five-foot sloop-rigged sailing yacht like a duck to water. Fortunately the very nice old lady went to bed early, so every evening Audrey picked the brains of the skippers in the pubs by the harbor, and soon managed as if she had been born at sea.

The old lady pulled the plug on the only job Audrey had thoroughly enjoyed when she decided her sailing days were over, and retired to a comfortable flat in Kensington. Audrey had no choice but to go back to the unwelcoming farm, and accepted with alacrity the invitation of a girlfriend to go and stay in London.

At a Chelsea party, Audrey met Heather Lyon.

Ex-debutante Heather was twenty-four, strikingly handsome, party loving, strong-minded, six foot tall, with heavy blond hair, a throaty, sexy voice, and a commanding presence. After being presented at Court and doing the Season in London, she had sailed out to join her father, a British Army brigadier, in Ceylon. One of a tiny handful of young white women, surrounded by hordes of young and not-so-young British Army officers, colonial servants, businessmen, tea planters and missionaries—all males starved of female company—Heather was feted and flattered, wined, dined and worshipped. Dizzied by her popularity, lulled by the luxurious comfort provided by umpteen servants, warmed by the exotic sunshine, she was wooed so assiduously that at nineteen she was married.

A suitable marriage at nineteen was the natural first step along the conventional path for a young woman of Heather’s background, to be followed as night succeeds day by children, housekeeping, and entertaining in furtherance of her husband’s career. But Heather was feeling her way toward a less subservient, more independent existence. Her husband was nonplussed. The marriage quickly foundered, and Heather sailed back to England as a single woman.

Heather with a broken marriage and Audrey with two broken engagements had failed to comply with the unwritten rules of their sex, age and class. Lacking husbands, what were they to do next? They were both in the same boat, and their common determination to find a future drew them together.

Listen, Heather, urged Audrey, my Uncle George gave me an idea. In fact, I think it’s a brain wave. Remember what it was like on the ship you came back on? Hardly any girls among masses of men, most of them going back home to find a wife, lonely and sex-starved and forlorn, poor lambs. On my ship they kept giving me the glad eye—I could have been engaged half a dozen times before we even got into port! They visit their families in England, but every second of the day they’re on the prowl for a girl to marry. If they don’t find one, in a couple of months they have to go back to Ceylon or India or wherever, and they won’t have leave again for years and years. And you know what it’s like in Ceylon: there are so few girls that most of those chaps haven’t got a hope in hell of finding a wife, or they marry the first halfway presentable one who comes along—and we both know how dire that can be! So while they’re on leave in England, we could help them. We could introduce them to suitable girls, starting with our girlfriends. I’ve got plenty who can’t find a decent man in England, and I’m sure you have too. What a waste. The men come over here, the girls are already here, they all want to get together but they never meet! Let’s introduce them—let’s start a marriage agency!

Heather was intrigued, but thought the idea was a joke, not a serious proposition. She had only just arrived back in London, where an allowance from her father paid for a small flat so she could enjoy a gay life of parties, gossip and flirtations, interspersed with bits of work as an actress and model. She said she would think about it, but did not mean to. The two girls exchanged addresses and parted.

Audrey returned to the farm, her mind buzzing. She had often worried away at Uncle George’s idea like a dog with a particularly meaty bone, convinced that it had a future; but had thought it too difficult to undertake by herself. Now, Heather struck her as exactly the right partner: she had a real understanding of the problem, the impressive poise and self-confidence of her class, a good brain and stunning looks. Audrey determined to keep in touch with Heather, and to do some research.

Fobbing off her parents by saying that she was visiting a London friend who socialized with a crowd of nice young men, Audrey went along to Scotland Yard. In a small bare room she inquired of a startled policeman whether a marriage agency, introducing single people in search of a matrimonial partner, would be breaking the law in any way. The astonished copper scratched his head in puzzlement over this unusual request, but could find no objection, nor any record of any existing marriage agency. So Audrey returned home, refusing to explain the enigmatic smile that baffled and irked her parents.

Audrey bought one of the weekly matrimonial newspapers that carried seductive advertisements, placed by people seeking or offering themselves as spouses. But such advertisements, extolling the virtues of potential wealthy husbands and beautiful wives, were often invented by the newspapers themselves or by agencies advertising under box numbers, and could not be trusted: Audrey had heard of a swindle operated by a cynical pair, a Frenchwoman who had introduced her lover to three single ladies looking for a husband, charging each one about £70. When arrested, she had been sentenced to eighteen months in prison, and the lover to two years. Determined to investigate this shady world, Audrey invested £5 of her £15 capital in advertising for a husband.

To her amazement and mounting alarm, letter after letter was forwarded to the farm by the matrimonial paper. Her parents suspected something was afoot but, seeing the uncompromising look in Audrey’s eye and the mulish set of her lips, they shrugged their shoulders and asked no questions. She took to intercepting the postman before he reached the farmhouse, and hurrying up to her bedroom, where she read the often illiterate but flattering self-portraits of wife-seekers, mostly unsuitable: railway porters, bus drivers, commercial travelers, bank clerks, farm laborers, tailors, rat catchers, postmen, plowmen, salesmen, doormen.

Plucking up her courage, Audrey replied to a pleasant-sounding teacher, whose letter, on headed writing paper, correctly spelled, stood out from the rest. She met him one afternoon in Cambridge, where for an awkward hour they made stilted conversation before saying a formal, relieved farewell.

The next day Audrey was walking to the village bakery when a little man outfitted in a black suit, high-collared white shirt, maroon tie and highly polished black shoes, carrying a neatly furled umbrella and an incongruous string shopping bag, tipped his bowler hat to her, as in a reedy voice he inquired, Excuse me, Miss, I beg your pardon, but I should be grateful if you could assist me. I am looking for Hall Farm, the residence of Miss Audrey Parsons. If you are cognizant of the whereabouts of that establishment, would you be so kind as to direct me?

Comprehending in a flash that the matrimonial paper had mistakenly parted with her name and address instead of forwarding a reply to her, Audrey lied like a trooper: Oh, certainly. But I fear that you are not in luck, since my friend Miss Parsons is in London today.

His face registered such disappointment that Audrey felt a momentary twinge of guilt, and asked solicitously: Have you come far? Was she expecting you today?

No, my presence was not anticipated by the young lady. Notwithstanding, it is with great regret that I shall not have the pleasure of making her acquaintance today. However, I shall return on another occasion. It is my good fortune to live but a few miles from this charming village, and to be in possession of a car. Transferring the shopping bag to the same hand as that clutching the umbrella, he pointed at a dark green Austin 7 parked in the road. His chest swelled with ineffable pride. I purchased this vehicle with the profit from my shop. Alas, there were naysayers in the village who expressed their opinion that the proceeds of trade should not be expended on earthly pleasures, in particular not by a follower of Christ. However, I am persuaded that Our Lord would not have gainsaid my action, which was taken not simply for the gratification of myself, but also for the delectation of my future wife. You see, Miss, I anticipate entering the state of holy matrimony in the very near future. I am desirous of acquiring a suitable wife—that is to say, a young lady in my station of life.

Audrey was mesmerized by the little man’s high, singsong voice, his fulsome language, and visions of a forgiving Jesus standing at his shoulder—or perhaps driving the Austin 7, pictured Audrey irreverently. Driving to a station? Unable to resist, forcing herself not to laugh, she asked, And what is your station in life?

The little man drew himself up to his full five feet four inches as he proclaimed, I am a butcher, Miss. I own my own butcher’s shop. I work hard, and on Sundays I have the honor to serve Our Lord as sidesman in our church.

As he paused for Audrey’s admiration and approbation, the postman, looking hot and flustered, approached on his bicycle. Seeing Audrey, he drew up and, panting, handed her some letters. I’m glad to see you, Miss Parsons. I’m on the late side, so I’d be grateful if you would take these back to the farm—they’re for you and your father.

Audrey seized the letters, mumbling and blushing, fully aware that the little man was wearing a puzzled expression.

Miss Parsons? he queried, more uncertain than accusatory. A farm? Are there two Miss Parsons living on a farm in this village?

Audrey could stand her own deceitfulness no longer. No! she confessed, screwing up her eyes as if to blind herself to her own wickedness. No, there is only one, and I am she. I am most dreadfully sorry.

But why did you not enlighten me at the outset?

Despite her distress Audrey’s mind was functioning at top speed. She simply could not tell him that one look at him had been enough to make her lie. Now she took refuge in a second glib untruth. Because I am already suited. I did not want to mislead you. I am so sorry.

Ah, Miss, you misjudged me. I should have delighted in felicitating you on your future happiness, as indeed I do now. May the Lord bless you. And before I take my leave may I offer you this small gift. The little man reached into the string bag and withdrew a large and lumpy parcel, wrapped up in brown paper and securely tied with thick string. He handed it to Audrey, tipped his hat, bowed slightly, turned on his heel, got into his car, and drove off.

Audrey walked back to the farm in a state of pure misery. How well the little butcher had behaved, and how badly had she. That he had brought her a present was salt in her wound.

Before going into the farmyard she sat on a stile, opened the parcel, and dropped it with a piercing shriek. There on the grass lay the cleaned but still bloody carcass of a large rabbit, no doubt the finest from the butcher’s shop.

For several days Audrey was cowed by her encounter. But as she recovered, she saw it as simply reinforcing the need for a marriage agency. She felt that young men vaguely expect that in some miraculous but unspecified way they will meet their dream girl. In reality this mythical female is sitting patiently in her parents’ home waiting for Mr. Right, but as he does not know she is there, so does not materialize, she grows increasingly forlorn and morose. How sad. How unnecessarily sad. How preventable.

Audrey persevered with Uncle George’s idea. She wanted to start the marriage agency in London, which would be particularly convenient for clients coming on leave from abroad. She arranged to meet Heather, who was living a hectic, glamorous urban life of parties, nightclubs, and dinners with beaux, and still did not quite believe that her friend was serious, nor that such an extraordinary, dotty idea might work.

Audrey persisted, and gradually if reluctantly Heather yielded to the enthusiasm and conviction radiating from her friend (who kept mum about her matrimonial advertisement).

All right, she said, it’s lunatic, batty, but I’ll join you and give it a whirl. But I don’t like the word ‘agency.’ Let’s call it a Marriage Bureau.

The Marriage Bureau was born.

2

No, It’s Not a Brothel

Heather was working off and on as a mannequin and a film extra—her last appearance was in a ballroom scene in Goodbye, Mr. Chips in 1939. But she did not envisage life as a professional model or actress, and, much though she loved glamour and parties, she was too intelligent and capable to find her current way of life permanently satisfying. Still a shade hesitant, she found herself being drawn ever deeper into Audrey’s mad scheme.

In all strata of society, Heather knew, parents worried if their daughters remained single after the age of about twenty. However, even in the aristocratic set girls were starting to rebel against such expectations. They were refusing to be sent out to India in what was known as the Fishing Fleet: gaggles of scarcely educated girls who had failed to find a husband and so were dispatched by ship with the express purpose of finding one among the lonely men serving the British Empire in India. Such young women were beginning to demand as good an education as a boy, and the right to leave home, take a job, and choose their own friends. After all, many of their mothers had worked, either in paid jobs or in the voluntary services, during the Great War, and had felt frustrated at having to return to domesticity in peacetime.

However, Britain was still enduring a severe economic crisis with terrible unemployment, and any girl with visible means of support who could live with her family was therefore castigated as immoral and unpatriotic if she took a job that a man could do, because if he was out of work his wife and family would starve.

Audrey and Heather had observed this state of affairs from the Far East, and they both had girlfriends

Reviews for The Marriage Bureau

[micareads · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The true story of a marriage bureau, the first of its kind, in London around World War II. An idea that many saw as an impossibility, two young women knew they could make work. Heather Jennifer and Mary Oliver succeeded when no one thought they could. The book begins just prior to the decision to open the Bureau and ends on its 10th anniversary. The Bureau helped 3,000 couples meet and find love.

The book was a quick read that detailed stories of the owners and those who they interviewed. They go through their application process and tell horror stories of some of their worst clients. They also detail heartbreaking stories of some of their poorer customers who were looking for someone to grow old with. It wasn't exactly the book I thought it would be but it was still a fairly decent read.

[tara35 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This is a charming book about a matchmaking bureau started in 1939 London by two young women. This book is full of stories of men and women - quirky, individual, with unique needs and desires - looking for spouses. It's fascinating reading about this type of system before computers, when everything was kept on note cards or in one's head. The backdrop of the book, 1939-1949 London, provides a fascinating look at life during the war and directly after. Overall this is fun, interesting, and sad at times. Recommended.

[lisa.schureman · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A delightful book! By turns humorous, serious, and at times heartbreaking with characters that are pompous, humble, and everywhere between Mary Oliver pitched her Uncle George's idea of the a match-making business. Mary was looking for a job that interested her so she could be independent and not marry a tediously respectable individual and wind up presiding over a tea plantation somewhere. Heather Jenner thought she was jesting when Mary told her of her idea. The book follows the Marriage Bureau from its inception through 1949 and the changing demands of its clientele, the changes in staff, and the couples that turned up for the business's tenth anniversary. An interesting and wonderful read!

[starbox_2 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

"They all want to get together but they never meet. Let's introduce them!"My parents met through the Heather Jenner marriage bureau and are still together! So this account of the first ten years of the first British marriage bureau, was quite an interesting and entertaining read.When independent farmer's daughter Audrey Parsons (aka Mary Oliver) disappointed her parents by failing to settle down to marriage, she took on board the idea of an uncle in India - that there were many wife-less colonials, many lonely spinsters in England, and they could do with bringing together.In the company of her friend, Heather Jenner, she started up a bureau in London in 1939. Despite the fears of some that it would foster immorality, it became unbelievably successful; this light-hearted account gives some of the lifestories- romantic, comical and tragic. As World War 2 took hold, the women had to cope with the blitz going on around them, widows, injured servicemen, GI's...They came to be seen as agony aunts, writing for newspaper problem pages, judging baby shows, appearing on radio shows. And meanwhile their own lives too moved on..Easy reading, quitye fun- and the appendix, featuring the clients' often eclectic requirements had me laughing out loud.The author was a later owner of the bureau.

[jcgirl-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Marriage Bureau is a true story of two women Mary and Heather during 1939 who created the need for a marriage bureau. Originally Mary comes up with the idea from her uncle because in 1939 their tons of English men living in India and other British colonies. Moreover, when they come back for short periods for visits, their hopes are to meet a woman in England. So begin Mary and Heather's plan to bring the marriage bureau to life. Soon they were introducing men to ladies in the hopes to come together and then correspond with while away. If all lead up to marriage, then Mary or Heather interviewed the couple, to see if, in the end, the marriage would work out. If wedding bells rang for a couple, then a fee was paid to the Marriage Bureau. During the World War II, their business boomed but also continued long after the war years. The people Mary and Heather meet and the couples that they put together made for a beautiful story with moments of laughter and joy and unfortunately heartache and loss.

[coker74 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

I chose “The Marriage Bureau” because of my keen interest in World War II and a bigger interest in people and what makes them tick. The book is non-fiction but has a fictional style to it. It started well, but for me, it faded as the book read on. How many ways can you write about people being matched up? It was almost too casual in the writing style. Like art, the beauty of books is in the eye of the reader. For me, the beauty just wasn’t there.

[bluegiraffe-1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This non-fiction book was a very enjoyable read. It's the story of two friends who started a marriage bureau in London just before the outbreak of WWII. Using material from a company archive (and how fortunate that these materials had been saved!), the author presents matchmaking stories that are funny, sad, touching, and occasionally outrageous or heartrending. The ins and outs of how the matchmakers dealt with their clients - and what a variety of clients they were - is fascinating. And the matchmakers themselves were quite unusual characters too. If you enjoyed Call the Midwife or Home Fires, this is the book for you. I received a copy through the Early Reviewers Giveaway.

[julyso · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A neat story about how two friends decide to start a business introducing appropriate singles to one another during World War II in London. Mary and Heather did not allow traditional roles of women during this time stop them from doing what they wanted. They became very successful and formed many happy unions. Great characters and a great story!

[yukon92 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I received a free ARC from the Early Reviewers Giveaway in exchange for my honest opinion. I give this book 4.5 stars because I absolutely loved it (the 1/2 star missing is because the ARC did not have the listed photographs in there!)I think PBS should take a close look at this book and make it into a TV series (similar to "Call the Midwife", which also started as a book). I can see many episodes coming out of this book alone, but I am sure there are more that can be dug up!Great Job!

[pennsylady · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The Marriage BureauIn 1939 pre-war London, Heather Jenner and Mary Oliverbegan a matchmaking service that brought to all sorts of individualsan opportunity to meet a possible match.The clientele were "shop girls to debutantes; widowers to war veterans, clients came in search of security, social acceptance, or simply love."Written research and interviews brought a personal note to theseliaisons.I found particularly interesting a section of the book listing "Requirements of Female Clients 1939-circa 1949."Likewise, a list of" Requirements of Male Clients 1939-circa 1949" as well as "Interviewers Comments" recorded during this period.An example might be "Sufficiently educated to make a fair success of a Times crossword puzzle.""No encumbrances, fine character, no doctors."A novel non-fiction.Library Thing giveaway...thank you

[chrisac_2 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

'The Marriage Bureau' is a charming, interesting read. It's the true story of a pair of plucky young Englishwomen in London (Heather Jenner and Mary Oliver) who start up a matchmaking office in 1939, as England is on the brink of WWII.Miraculously, the daughter of one of the women saved all her archives which serve as a wonderful material source for this story which unfolds against a background of war. The reader gets a taste of what it was like to live in wartime London, with the bombs, and the losses and deprivations of war. Yet, the indomitable spirit of the English people prevails as live goes on despite this.The story is at turns hilarious, sad, poignant, tragic, and happy. The various clients and employees of the "bureau" each have their own story, and those are as varied as life itself. Told in a narrative fashion, this book is a delight for the reader - especially for Anglophiles and those interested in English life during the WWII.

[mickyfine · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

In late 1938, Heather Jenner and her friend, Mary Oliver decided to open a business that had never been done in London before: a marriage bureau. Matchmaking clients of all classes, occupations, and backgrounds, Heather and Mary began with no idea of how popular their service would be, the wide variety of people they'd see and stories they'd hear, or the way it would alter their experience of the war years. Halson's recounting of the first decade of the marriage bureau (1939-1949ish) is fantastic filled with tales of fascinating individuals, frequent humour, occasional heartbreak, and, of course, lots of happy endings. I got particular delight out of the appendix which highlights some of the more delightful requests from both male and female clients about traits they wanted in a partner. Highly recommended, particularly to fans of Downton Abbey and/or Call the Midwife.

[cattriona · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This non-fiction story of a matchmaking pair of friends and their clients is a great read. The descriptions of the people they need to match up really draw you into the story, as you hope for a happy ending for the good ones, and a fitting end to the not-so-good ones. Highly recommended.

[nyiper · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This was delightful reading and I thoroughly appreciated the author's efforts to have dialogue between the bureau's owners/workers and clients, as well as follow-ups by searching through letters, interviews, and records of the company. To imagine this idea without the aid of computers is impressive and the fact that the women could remember the details of the clients as they worked to match them, even with the extensive interviews and notes they compiled, to say nothing of trying to keep it all organized! My only wish was that there was some way to know what became of Audrey Parsons when she left the bureau and moved off to the United States.

[eawsmom · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This book gives insight into how Londoners--as well as people from a variety of other locales--found "Mr. Right" or "Miss Right" from the years just before World War II up through the late 1940s. (The Marriage Bureau, in fact, still exists and continues to arrange meetings between suitable partners.)I enjoyed this book because it was written in a breezy, almost conversational style which gives the thoughts and comments of the co-founders and others who were most involved in its success. Had this information been presented in a more austere tone full of statistics, I doubt the book would have been as fun to read. While I'm sure it won't win any awards as a great scholarly work, it did give a glimpse into life in London during World War II and what single men and women went through to find true love. Some stories are hilarious, some are heart-breaking, and many are just entertaining without going to one extreme or the other.I recommend this book for anyone who has an interest in World War II and how people coped with life in that era.I received this book free through the Library Thing Early Reviewers program in exchange for a fair and honest review.

[chazzifrazz · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Prior to WWII Mary Oliver was spurred on by her Uncle George to open a marriage bureau. She convinced her friend, Heather Jenner to go in with her. They set up offices just off London's Bond Street, figuring to get some good traffic for their matchmaking business. Being pre-computer age, their records were kept on cards and in a large ledger book. Applicants filled out forms about themselves and what they were looking for in a mate. The appearance of the desired mate, likes, dislikes, finances, social standing and any thing that would be important. Some of them are quite funny and some very touching, but all show how human people are.The author, who became the owner of the business in 1986, used records, press stories, letters and other research to put together this great read of life in England around WWII. The hardships of the war, the affects on lives and what people were looking for in companionship to make their world a little better for them. There is humour, sadness, a little heartbreak: an enjoyable read over all.The copy I read is a proof and I noticed that there are to be photos in the final release. It would have been nice to see the images, to add to the flavour of the book, but the author did a great job in bringing the stories to life with her words and style of writing.

[bookchickdi · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Before there was E-harmony or Tinder, there was The Marriage Bureau, which is recounted in Penelope Halson's book of the same name.In 1938, twenty-four-year-old Audrey Parsons had already been through a litany of jobs near her home in England. She worked in a factory (too boring), as a dental receptionist (too bloody- she had to pick up teeth off the floor!), as a photographer's assistant (the darkroom was too dark), as a delivery girl for a cake shop (fired for eating the cakes) and as a riding instructor (she refused to muck out the stables).Audrey went to visit her Uncle George in Assam, India and he gave her the idea of starting a marriage bureau in London. There were so many young men working overseas looking for a wife to join them, he thought Audrey could do something about that.So Audrey found a partner in Heather, who was practical and logical in contrast to Audrey (now called Mary), who was more romantic and imaginative. They made a perfect team for this job!The Marriage Bureau was formed, and thanks to a slew of good publicity in local newspapers, it was successful right out of the gate. The idea was that people would come in and be interviewed, giving their requirements for a potential spouse. They paid a small fee, and if a match led to marriage, they paid an After Marriage Fee.The Marriage Bureau: The True Story of How Two Matchmakers Arranged Love in Wartime London is filled with stories of the many clients who came in looking for love. Their first wedding was a 68 year-old bride to a 70 year-old groom, which garnered so much publicity (including a short documentary film) that the bureau was overrun with inquiries across the world- India, dozens of African nations, and once WWII broke out, even American servicemen stationed in England used their services.The stories are charming and sad, and some are even maddening. Mary and Heather were so successful, they even found a match for Cedric, a man they both found unappealing and disagreeable. Maybe there is a lid for every pot.At the end of the book, there are two lists that must be read- Requirements for Female Clients 1939-1949 and Requirements for Male Clients 1939-1949. These lists contain such specific client requests as:Women required:Not too sophisticated but not too dumbMan who will cherish a large womanI divorced my husband who was teacher. Not another teacherNo bridge, pub crawling, golf, passion for The Club or AmericansMen required:No hysteria, no gold diggers; likes mountaineeringAble to play a portable instrument (string or woodwind) well. Rather a prairie than a hothouse flowerSomeone who doesn't expect too muchA nice, stylish girl, not too brainy, with the appearance of a West End mannequin. No objection to a rich widow. Someone who likes living and is human.Reading this put me in mind of PBS' series Home Fires, and if you like that, this book is for you. Mary and Heather were women ahead of their time, and I enjoyed reading about their successful business and all of the lovely people they helped to find love. I recommend The Marriage Bureau.

[whitreidtan · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Nowadays you can swipe right or scroll through dozens of people suggested by an algorithm on any number of internet dating sites in the search for your soulmate but before the internet, those searching for love had far fewer resources. They could hope to just meet someone serendipitously, they could ask for their family and friends to introduce them to likely partners, or, just before World War II, they could sign up with the Marriage Bureau, a brand new matchmaking service opened in 1939 and located in London. Penrose Halson, who not only ran her own matchmaking service in the Katherine Allen Marriage and Advice Bureau and eventually bought the original Marriage Bureau but also used the service herself, has written a charming, entertaining history of the unconventional agency and the tales of some of the clients and the matches they made under the bureau's auspices.Audrey Parsons went out to India to marry a man near her uncle's remote tea plantation. Once there she knew they wouldn't suit and she ended by returning to England. This wasn't the first time that a trip to India and an engagement didn't end at the altar for her, much to her parents' chagrin. What she did come home with though was the seed of the idea, proposed by her uncle, that would eventually become the Marriage Bureau. Enlisting her friend, Heather Jenner, a socially astute divorcee, the two women determined to start a business that would match up eligible single men and women with suitable people they might not otherwise meet. Jenner and Parsons, the latter using the name Mary Oliver to hide her potentially scandalous actions from her parents, built the first matchmaking business of its kind even as the shadow of WWII loomed ever closer. The two women insisted on interviewing each of their clients, and they maintained a meticulous record of each person in order to find good and viable matches for as many people as possible. They took into consideration not only class and age but also some interesting and unique wants and likes. Their businesslike approach and astute use of feel-good publicity grew their business into a thriving concern and many people did in fact find their partner and happiness through the auspices of the Marriage Bureau.This delightful true story captures the imagination of the reader much as the business did of a nation starved for positive news in the face of an imminent war. The tales of the real people who turned to Jenner and Oliver run the gamut. Some people were delights while others were positively difficult and demanding. The way that they carefully vetted all clients was fascinating and reflected the mores and attitudes of the time. Starting in 1939 and initially thought of as a good way for expats only back in Blighty for a brief time to find a wife, the bureau expanded to take on all sorts from local to international and it stayed as busy, if not more so, during the war, as it had beforehand. Because of the inclusion of the stories of the matches, the narrative has a very episodic feel to it. Its general tone is sweet and cheerful although there are certainly some very poignant and sad tales included as well. The very end includes lists of actual comments the interviewers made about the clients and some were a bit horrifyingly unkind but they were entertaining all the same (although I shudder to think what notes on me might have looked like). The book only covers the first ten years of the bureau's existence and I would have liked more on how the bureau evolved over the years, even if only in an epilogue. This is a quick read, a fascinating snapshot of a time and a society, a very different angle on the war years indeed.

[meggyweg · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This book, titled either "The Marriage Bureau" or "Marriages are made in Bond Street", is the true story of two twenty-something girls (one single, one divorced) who found a "marriage bureau" in London a few years after World War II, and about the matches they make. Business takes off quickly and there are a lot of quirky, funny stories. It's pretty funny, and very fluffy, without a whole lot of plot: just like "so they got these two people together and they got on splendidly and quickly married, and then this guy had some insanely specific requests but luckily they were able to match him with a wife" over and over and over.You don't really get a sense of the character of either of the two protagonists, and one of them marries an American, moves away and drops out of sight midway through the book. The current author actually bought the Marriage Bureau herself in 1986.If you liked the "Call the Midwife" books/TV series, you will probably like this book -- in fact I've heard it's going to be made into a TV series too. It was a bit too fluffy for my taste, but I can definitely see a market for it.