Читать книгу The Essential Ingredient - Love - Tracy Madden - Страница 7
Chapter 4
ОглавлениеChilli walked slowly into the walk-in-robe. She placed the black calf skin handbag into the space reserved for that particular bag. Her thumb wiped at a smudge on the silver Dior plate. This was one of the last handbags she had purchased with her grandmother. How she wished Grand-mere Celeste was with her today.
She glanced at the bags on display. Most of them had a special story of the purchase, more often than not with Grand-mere Celeste. Chilli ran her hand over a couple of them, feeling the soft leathers. They were bags with personalities, to be used for different occasions, to evoke a memory, or set a mood or style.
Her grandmother had said when she was purchasing the Dior bag that it would take her anywhere. How right she’d been. Today, she had taken her Hermes silk scarf that Grand-mere Celeste had bought for her on their first trip to Paris. She’d been so in love with the scarf that she’d sat with it on the flight home, stroking the colourful silk against her face. Today, every now and then, she had opened her bag and her fingers had brushed against the fabric, looking for comfort and strength, the two things her grandmother had given her.
Chilli glanced across at the shelves that held her shoes. They were organised by colour. She knew Rob thought she was pedantic about the way they were organised, but she didn’t care. She’d said to him that beautiful shoes uplifted her spirit and she loved having them on display. But today, her spirit refused to be lifted.
She touched the sleeves of Rob’s business shirts. They too were organised according to colour. She told him that this made it easier to find the one he was looking for, but really she preferred them that way. Nearly all had cufflinks that matched.
The silver cufflink box was sitting on its shelf. Opening the lid, she peered inside. With a red fingernail, she sorted them into pairs, mentally counting to 16. The black and silver crystal ones weren’t there. He was wearing those today. When she had bought them for him, he had said that they were special occasion ones and kept them to wear to Montgomery’s opening. It seemed right he should wear them today.
Slowly she walked into the bathroom. She picked up one of Rob’s aftershaves and inhaled. Spraying it on her wrists, she shut her eyes and inhaled deeply again. When she opened her eyes, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Her hand went to the pale, pink pearls at her neck. Rob loved them so she was glad she had worn them today. They looked pretty with her black wrap dress, and the pink flower that she had worn with it was a nice touch.
Her index finger absently stroked at the furrow that had so recently embedded itself between her brows. Then her hand reached out and touched the cold faucet. It felt lovely and cool. She ran the tap for a minute and then drank from it. Big gulps, as if she hadn’t drunk for days. She rested her pounding forehead against the cool faucet for a moment. It was time for her to pull herself together.
She glanced at the bed as she walked through the bedroom. All she wanted to do was get into the bed and pull the coverlet over her head. The pillows looked so soft and cool. The coverlet and top pillows were in black and coffee, but the sheets and the regular pillows were all white Egyptian cotton. When creating their bedroom, she had wanted Rob and her to feel as if they were in a luxury hotel suite. Funny how that had seemed important at the time.
Through the window was a magnificent view of the Brisbane River. Walking over now, she mindlessly peered through the sheer black roman blinds, wondering if she would be missed if she dared to lie back on the black leather sofa in the sitting area. On the lounge was a faux, caramel fur blanket and some of her favourite books. Adjacent to it, the small round mahogany table held as many family photos as would fit. This had always been a lovely place to laze and read. Running her hand over the fur throw, she absently brushed the fur, first one way and then the other. She was so tired, her eyes ached simply from being open.
Glancing outside once more, in some part of her brain, it registered, that it was indeed a lovely day. There was a clear blue sky and the leaves on the trees moved in the lightest of breezes, but it was more than enough to cool the day. It was the type of day you hoped for.
She took a couple of deep breaths, squared her shoulders and lifted her chin up. She knew she had to do this for Rob.
Walking through the house she stopped at the kitchen. It was bustling with staff from Charlie’s restaurant assembling platters of sandwiches, savoury tartlets and petite fours. She’d made sure to tell them she wanted chicken, salad and onion jam on grain. That was one of Rob’s favourites.
She reminded herself that she must thank Charlie. It was so good of him. She picked up one of the square white platters and stepped out onto the terrace and began offering finger sandwiches to her guests. People were standing around in groups murmuring. When they saw her, half a dozen people rushed over to relieve her of the platter.
“Please leave me to do it. I am more than happy,” she told them firmly. And she was. It gave her the chance to keep moving amongst everyone without really having to say anything. People didn’t know what to say anyway, and in turn neither did she. Every time she’d enter a small group, they would stop talking and before they could speak she would say, “Well, I hope you’re telling each other some funny stories about Rob,” and then move on before more could be said.
From where she stood, she could see Milly, her neighbour from across the street, bearing down on her. The old darling did mean well, but was known for rabbiting on. Heaven forbid someone should give her a drink; there would be no stopping her. For a brief second, Chilli hoped that her face didn’t show how she felt.
As Milly came closer, Chilli noted that she looked as if she’d given her perm a perm. Her shoulder length curls were tighter than ever, and for the first time she noted that what Rob had often said was true; Milly did look like her poodle, Kiki. Rob was absolutely right. Why hadn’t she seen it before?
The minute Milly opened her mouth to speak, Chilli couldn’t help but laugh. For a few seconds she clapped her hand over her mouth and tried to regain some composure, coughing and swallowing. She wasn’t sure if she was amused or hysterical. Apologising profusely, she then moved on to the next group still trying to smother a laugh.
There, she was accosted, or it seemed like she was accosted, by Rob’s cousin Muriel, who grabbed her forearm. “You know dear, all I can say is, at least it’s a beautiful day.”
Normally Chilli had time for the chatty Muriel, but today she didn’t feel very chatty. “Well yes, Muriel that is good news, being a beautiful day. I will keep that in mind. Thank you.” Pulling her arm away, she gave Muriel a big smile and moved on.
Clearing her throat, she asked, “Gentlemen, can I offer you something to eat.”
“Now Chilli, why don’t I do that?” Rick, a friend of Rob’s offered.
“No. I would really like to do it,” Chilli said holding the platter closer to herself.
“Don’t be ridiculous, you shouldn’t be doing that. I insist, now give it to me.” Firmly he took the platter from her.
Instantly the tears welled up and pricked at her eyes. Her chin quivered, but she swallowed and clenched her jaw. How dare he? Side stepping her guests, she made a bee line for the kitchen and picked up another platter, ignoring the look on the faces of the wait staff.
Turning, she saw Milly heading her way. Please, could she not get a break, today of all days?
“Now give me that. We can’t have you working today. I’m going to pass it around.”
There was no way Chilli was going to be railroaded into handing over this platter. With both pairs of hands on the platter, and no one prepared to give it up, Chilli pulled it closer and in the struggle sandwiches fell onto the limestone tiles.
“Now will you look at that,” Milly began. And then she saw the anguish on Chilli’s face. “Oh now dear, it’s only a couple of sandwiches…” The older woman bent to retrieve them.
A sob escaped from Chilli’s throat. Startled, Milly looked up and before she could say anything, Jack was upon them.
“Dear girl! What’s happening? Thank you Milly. Yes, please take these outside, very much appreciated.” Jack gently removed the platter from Chilli’s shaking hands and handed it to her neighbour. He put his arm around his daughter.
Chilli almost collapsed against him. “Dad, Dad, I can’t do this. I can’t. It’s not what was supposed to happen.” She clutched at her stomach and then put a hand to her mouth. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick.”
“Quick into the bathroom!” Jack half picked up her tiny frame, took her in, and sat her on the closed toilet seat. He wet a face cloth and placed it on her forehead. “This will help.”
“No it won’t,” she wailed, wiping the tears with the back of her hand. “Nothing will ever help again. Dad I can’t do it. I can’t. I don’t want to. I want him back. Please Daddy, bring him back. Please, please, please. I can’t live without him. Sam needs him. Who will tell Sam all the things that I don’t know? It’s all too quick. I didn’t say goodbye. I can’t stop this pain. It’s killing me.” Incapable of even sitting, she slid off the seat, and lay sobbing on the bathroom floor.
Crouching down to hold her, Jack tried to console his daughter. “It’s killing me too darling girl, if I could stop it I would. If I could bring him back, I would. I can’t. I am so sorry.” He began to rock her. Suddenly she felt another pair of arms go around them. She opened her swollen eyes to see Sam.
Her arms grabbed for him urgently. His head collapsed against her shoulder, his arms clutching her as if she was a life preserver in high seas. His sobbing was fierce now, uninhibited, tearing at her heart. His grief was so profound, so total, and so loud. It took him a good few minute before his cries subsided.
Through her own pain she tried to calm herself. “Darling, I am so sorry. I don’t want to make things worse for you. I don’t want you to see me like this. You are already in enough pain.” If not for Sam, she would have wanted to be dead, then and there.
Sam gulped hard as he tried to control his sobbing. “Mum, I am going to spend my whole life missing Dad,” he told her in a rasping voice. “It’s the worst shock imaginable. He was my best friend. He will never see my children.” He began to sob again. Her heart was torn out. This pain was bigger than her. It engulfed every fibre of her being.
Six days ago, she was happy with her life and waiting for Rob to pick her up from the airport. When the taxi had dropped her off, the first thing she had done was to play the messages on the house phone, wondering if Rob had left a message for her there. There was only one message. It was from their family doctor, Dr Sullivan, telling them that Rob’s blood tests, taken six days earlier, had shown a slight irregularity, and perhaps he should make an appointment to come in the following week. The doctor had stressed that it was nothing urgent, but just a follow up and to please enjoy their weekend.
She remembered thinking that she hoped it was nothing serious, but then again Dr Sullivan had said that it was nothing urgent. That was all going through her mind when the door bell rang. When she had opened the door, and saw the police standing there, her heart missed a beat. She remembered looking at one of the constables and thinking that he did not look much older than Sam. What on earth was he doing at her door, trying to tell her something; something that she could not understand? If only he didn’t say the words. She had put her hands up to stop him saying anything. But the look on the young constable’s face had said it all. There was a roaring in her ears, and through it she heard the word accident.
“Please, please, tell me he’s alive,” she had said as she clutched at the young constable. “Please!” And then a loud wail had started and she recognised it as something coming from inside of her. She had slipped to the ground and they helped her up and then she stumbled and threw up on the front lawn, her stomach convulsing with the hideousness of it. She couldn’t remember what happened next.
And then the police drove her to Sam’s. It was the worst thing she had ever had to do in her life. She went in on her own, while the police waited out the front. There weren’t many words to be said. He knew the moment he saw her face. And she, for the rest of her life, would remember the look on his. She fell into his arms and the two of them slid to the floor together.
Rob had been on his way to pick her up, coming from a meeting on the other side of town, and had stopped at a newsagency. He had stepped out of his car without looking and straight into the path of a truck. That was it. He was thrown in the air, and came down and hit his head.
Chilli and Sam both sat in the back of the police car on the way to the hospital. Sam had his arms around his mother. He held her so tightly it felt as though he was restraining her. She could hear the hammer blow pounding of his heart against his chest.
Miranda had stayed behind and called Chilli’s father to meet them at the hospital.
Once there, Chilli had put her arms around Rob and just hung on. She felt numb. Although pale, he didn’t seem to have many injuries, just a small gash on his forehead. There must be some mistake. The doctor explained that he had hit his head so hard that he had sustained internal bleeding. They had tried, but there was nothing they could do.
She stayed with him for as long as she could until finally Sam and Jack led her away. She had stroked the back of his hands. She loved the way the hair grew there. She kissed the inside of his wrists. She had always marvelled at how soft and hairless that one little spot was. His hands were lovely to her. They were hard working, sensible, strong hands. They were hands that had done so much for her in their life together. How could she never hold those hands again?
She kissed his lips, but they felt cold. She breathed him in, the smell of muskiness and woodiness and maleness, almost sweet at the same time, sometimes a little bit like oranges, with his after shave mixed in. She put her nose down to his shirt and inhaled. She touched his hair. It had thinned over the last couple of years and was ever so slightly receding, but soft to touch. Over and over, she stroked it back from his forehead and smoothed his brow. Sometimes, when they were watching television together, he would put his head in her lap and she would run her fingers over his scalp again and again. How could she never do that again? How? How? How?
When they had left the hospital, first light was creeping into the sky. They were numb, clinging to each other, unable to talk, barely able to walk.
Then, over the last few days, they had gone through the motions: speaking with the directors of the funeral home, organising the eulogy, speaking with Charlie about the catering, sending Rob’s suit to the funeral home, selecting the perfect music, printing the booklets and lastly, leafing through the family albums, selecting the ideal picture that captured him how she knew him best. Chilli had taken the photo herself a couple of years ago. Rob was wearing was wearing the red polo shirt that she liked on him. Their small family of three were on the river skiing that day. Rob was driving the ski boat and Sam was skiing. With the wind ripping through his hair, Rob had turned to watch Sam and then had put his head back and laughed with delight. She’d snapped.
Throughout, a huge part of her was trying not to know what had happened, but the truth kept insisting itself to her. All she wanted was for the funeral to be over, but she also wanted it to be a day that Rob would want.
They had all done their best to cope and now here they were falling apart. Through her fogginess, she knew Rob would hate to see her and Sam so distressed. She kissed Sam’s forehead over and over, like she did when he was a little boy and had become upset over something. “We have Dad’s guests outside. Come on darling. Do you think that you can come and talk to them for Dad’s sake?”
His face felt all hot and sweaty and he smelt like the little boy she remembered. In her mind’s eye she saw him as a tiny thing sitting on her lap, with chubby fists rubbing his teary eyes, while she kissed the hurt away. It was killing her that she couldn’t do that now. She wanted to cry again, but knew that she would have the rest of her life for that.
They helped each other up off the cool bathroom tiles. Looking at her father, her heart went out to him as well. He looked old and tired.
Opening the bathroom door, they almost tripped over her mother, with one arm around Miranda and the other around Tiffany. All three had been crying. They had witnessed the pain of the others, but didn’t dare disturb. Chilli held her arms out and embraced them.
She turned to her daughter-in-law. “Miranda I know you will look after Sammy, thank you darling. What would I do without you?” She stroked the young woman’s cheek. “What would I do without all of you? My beautiful family!” She squeezed her mother’s hand, tucked her arm through Tiffany’s for support and then slowly went back outside onto the terrace.
This time she walked around and acknowledged her guests. She hugged each of them and didn’t care if she cried and it seemed to make it easier for them as well. The crying and hugging seemed to have a sedative effect on her. As soon as the last guest left, she told her remaining family that she needed to lie down. Sam and Miranda felt the same way and adjourned to the area they called Sam’s quarters.
Walking into the bedroom, she pulled back the coverlet, threw the big black pillows onto the floor, kicked off her shoes, and removed her jewellery. She entered the walk-in-robe and took Rob’s chocolate, velour dressing gown off its hanger. Wrapping herself in it, she closed her eyes and inhaled. He was still there with her. She climbed under the covers of the bed and pulled Rob’s pillow over, hugging it tightly. Closing her aching, heavy eyes, for the first time in the last six days she actually slept and felt peaceful. During that small moment between sleeping and waking, she forgot...
But she remembered the moment she opened her eyes. She ran into the bathroom and vomited. The wet face cloth was cold as she put it to her thumping forehead. Her makeup was a mess. The cleanser was creamy and there was comfort in the rhythm of her hands and she cleansed, toned and moisturized as if she was on automatic pilot. She knew she should check on Sam.
The house was quiet. Sam and Miranda’s bedroom door was still closed; tiptoeing she went in search of her parents. Along with Tiffany, they were lying on the large sofas in the family room, speaking in hushed tones. It appeared that they had cleaned up after today’s gathering. She could not bring herself to think of the word wake. Bending to each of them, she embraced them, her father’s huge hug giving a moment of comfort. Still wearing Rob’s dressing gown, she nestled down on the lounge beside him. Her mother covered her with a blanket. She wasn’t cold, but it felt snug and safe. Tiffany came and sat at her feet, resting her head against her aunt’s legs. They sat like that for a while, no one saying anything.
“What will I do Dad,” was all she said, making a statement more than a question, her voice sounding unlike itself.
“You will take each day, as it comes. You don’t have to rush any decisions. From where I sit, I think that Rob has left you in a decent position. Of course, your brothers would all like to be of assistance in any way they can.”
“Right,” was all she said; that wasn’t what she really had been asking. However, at some time she would have to discuss finances and reality. Solange leant over and patted her forearm briefly. Even in Chilli’s grief, it registered that her mother struggled with affection.
Jack continued, breaking into her thoughts, “I’ve spoken to your accountant, and your solicitor. They’re going to organise a meeting next week or whenever you feel up to it. I’m happy to come along if you’d like me to, and of course Charlie offered as well.”
Tiffany spoke for the first time, “Dad also said to tell you, he’s sending staff to Montgomery’s tomorrow to lend a hand, until Sam feels like he’s okay. He’s already told Sam that.”
“That’s very kind of him. I don’t want Sam to feel rushed to perform, so that will take a weight off my shoulders.” She stroked Tiffany’s hair. “Thanks for being here tonight sweetie. You know I love you.” Bending, she kissed the top of her niece’s head.
“I love you too, Aunt Chill.” She took hold of Chilli’s hand. “I’ve spoken to work and I’m going to take a couple of weeks off and go into work for you. Please don’t say no, I really want to, I want Uncle Rob to know I’m helping you.” Her voice broke and she began to cry once more. “Sorry, I don’t mean to upset you again.”
Resting her hand on Tiffany’s head once more, Chilli said, “We all loved Rob darling. It’s only normal that we’re going to be upset for a long time and we’re all going to cry from time to time. Don’t you dare apologise.” Actually, she thought she would be upset for the rest of her life.
Her father, still in a business frame of mind, continued on. “Oh yes, Jim said he could follow up on Rob’s project in Cairns, if that’s okay with you. It sounds like it is in the last stages and he’s got enough staff to cover it. I spoke to the project manager a couple of days ago and gave Jim his number and I believe they’ve already talked and set something up for next week. Is that okay with you?”
“Whatever Dad! I can’t seem to think clearly, but I guess decisions have to be made. Thank you for thinking of everything.” She knew that this was just the beginning.
“One other thing...” Jack hesitated, clearing his throat. “You understand there’ll be an investigation into the accident, don’t you?”
Chilli shrugged. “What’s it going to do? Bring him back. Dad I know that no one meant for this to happen. The police said that according to the witnesses, it appeared Rob didn’t even look.” Closing her eyes, she shook her head. “He was always thinking of a dozen things at once.” No one said anything for a few moments.
Jack squeezed her shoulder. “Leave it with me.”
Sam and Miranda came in. Sam’s eyes were red and puffy. Stretching, he came over and lay down beside his mother with his head in her lap. Miranda bent and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll put the kettle on and make some tea,” she announced to no one in particular. Silently, Tiffany and Solange rose and joined her.
Jack filled Sam in on everything he had been discussing.
Slowly, Sam nodded. “That’s very generous of Uncle Charlie. But if it’s alright with you, Mum, I want to go in for a little while tomorrow and get things organised for the next day. So I may not need Uncle Charlie’s help after all. I’ll call him in the morning.”
“Well Sam, the offer is there if you need it,” Jack advised. “Don’t forget at a time like this, people feel useless. They like to think they’ve done some small thing to help. Try to remember that too, Chilli. Don’t be afraid to say yes.”
They sat quietly for a while. Chilli massaged Sam’s head. It bought her comfort, just to be touching someone she loved and he seemed to be soothed by it.
“Chilli,” Jack said, as if remembering something. “Who were those three older gentlemen I saw you speaking to at the church?”
“They’re all retired professional men. They get together every day at the Italian coffee shop I go to.”
Sam interrupted, making a feeble attempt to sound light-hearted, “You turncoat, going somewhere else for coffee.”
For some reason, her voice held a slight sharpness to it. “My darling, Montgomery’s has only been opened for three months and it is my work place, sometimes I like to just slip away and have some time to think, generally late in the afternoon after we’ve closed, before I buy groceries for dinner.”
“I’m joking Mum.” His normal response would have been ‘to chill out’, but he refrained from saying so.
Chilli realised that he had been trying to sound light hearted and she certainly hadn’t meant to sound so sharp. Playfully she scratched the top of his head and continued, “I’ve never actually said much more than hello or goodbye or to discuss the weather with any of them, but I guess they’re part of my routine, or I’m part of theirs. We’ve all been going to the same coffee shop, around the same time for the past couple of years. They sit and argue the problems of the world. They’ve tried to include me on several occasions, and now I feel rude as I have been rather quick with them, and continued to just say hello or goodbye. When Montgomery’s opened we had a bit more of a chat. I think one of them saw something in one of the newspapers. Bill, the white haired gentleman, I think he’s a retired barrister, told me one day that he thought I looked like I had just stepped off the French Riviera. I believe the balding one was an accountant and I don’t know what the other one did but he appears to play a lot of golf. He’s always dressed in golf gear. Would have been expensive in their time, but I haven’t seen clothes like that in 30 years.”
“How old are they Mum?”
She thought for a minute, “I don’t know, maybe late 70s, early 80s.”
Jack’s interest piqued. “You seem to know a lot about them though. Why weren’t you interested in talking to them?”
“You know, at the end of a busy day, when I just wanted a coffee and ten minutes to myself before I headed home, I didn’t really feel like debating world issues and having a huge conversation every time I went in there. I was happy to sit and savour my coffee and the homemade bacis.”
“Well I think it was nice they came to the church Mum!”
“Yes, it was really nice. I made sure I thanked them. They said that when they heard about your father, they were worried about me. That was thoughtful of them wasn’t it? And they also said they hoped I didn’t mind them paying their respects, and for me to let them know if there’s anything they can do. You don’t realise just how many people know you in the community. When I saw the older gentlemen, I thought to myself, ‘There are my coffee shop men,’ almost as if they belonged to me. Isn’t that odd?”
“I think that it’s nice,” her father told her giving her a squeeze.
“I did ask if they’d like to join us back here, but they said no, they definitely did not wish to intrude. Probably a good thing, I don’t know them that well.”
“I noticed that they were rather well dressed,” Jack commented.
“Yes, funny that, I almost didn’t recognise them. They’re the main three but their group changes daily, depending on who’s looking for a good argument.” Her mouth moved gently towards a smile that didn’t quite make it. She continued to run her hands through Sam’s hair.
Tea and vegemite toast were made and bought into the lounge. Chilli didn’t feel she could eat anything. Her mother tried to convince her and she tried hard to oblige, but her mouth was too dry. As if she was absent, they discussed who was going to stay that night with her. Sam insisted that he and Miranda would be staying in the family home for at least the next week. He said that it was what he wanted. Tiffany suggested that after that she would like to come for a while as well.
Chilli had no idea how she felt.
After her parents had left, taking an emotionally exhausted Tiffany with them, Miranda went off to bed and left Sam and his mother to talk.
Lying on the sofa with his head still in his mother’s lap, sensitively he asked, “Mum, did you and Dad want other children?”
Continuing to massage his head, she knew that it bought comfort to both of them. “Of course we did, sweetie. I always saw myself as a mum of many – a brood. We did try many times. But I had four miscarriages, so it was not meant to be.”
Half sitting up, he looked at her, “What? Why didn’t you tell me? How old was I?”
Gently she pushed him back down and continued with her therapy. “The first time you were about four. I was only about ten weeks along, before I miscarried. And then it happened twice more. Finally I was pregnant again and we thought I was in the all clear. We couldn’t believe it when at about 16 weeks tragedy struck that poor little baby. We found out that she was very unwell and wasn’t going to make it to term. We were devastated. I carried her for another three weeks before we lost her.” How well she remembered.
“Why don’t I remember this?’ Sam asked looking really concerned.
“Darling it’s not something you discuss with a small child. I think that we told you I was having a baby the first time. When I miscarried, we told you that the time wasn’t right for it to come and we had to wait a while. The next couple of times we didn’t say anything to you. We were going to wait for the 12 week mark but we didn’t make it. It was quite hard on us as Dad was working away a bit. We decided that if it didn’t work that very last time, then we wouldn’t keep trying. I was an emotional wreck. The last time, we’d waited until it was fairly obvious I was pregnant before we told you and then a week or two later I had problems. We had been on the IVF program so many times by then and really it had taken it out of us. Dad took me away on a holiday afterwards and you stayed with Grandma and Grandad. Before we left, we explained that this baby was ill and God didn’t want us to have it and he’d let us know when there was another one. You were more interested in going to stay with Grandma and Grandad and just said, ‘Okay but can I have ice cream every night at Grandma’s?’”
Sam made a feeble attempt at a laugh. “I don’t remember any of that.” He was quiet for a minute. “That’s really sad for you.”
She attempted to brush it off. “Yes, it was at the time. The thing was that I’d never considered pregnancy a gamble. No one had warned me that this beautiful baby growing inside me was a hope, not a promise.”
Talking about it now evoked memories of very sad times. “It was tough, but everyone has sad stuff.” Her voice became wistful. “It was hard deciding that we wouldn’t try any more, but I had promised your father and I couldn’t keep putting us through it. We had you and you were more than enough. I know that your father was worried about me, and I had promised him that last time, that if it didn’t work, I would get on with my life. So I kept my promise.”
Neither spoke for a while. Finally, in a somewhat serious voice Sam asked, “I want to ask you something else and I don’t want you to be angry.” He didn’t look at her, just stared straight ahead.
“Okay,” she said slowly.
“Did you and Dad have to get married because you were having me?” he asked, finally turning to look at her.
She took a long deep breath. Oh no. Not this. She looked straight back at him. “We didn’t have to get married Sam. We wanted to get married. And yes, I was having you, but we were already engaged and were planning our wedding. It was not long after our engagement party, when I realised I was pregnant. Uncle Charlie had become engaged before us and we were supposed to wait until after his wedding for us to get married. When we found out I was having you, we had a very quick, small wedding. We told everyone that we didn’t want to rain on Uncle Charlie’s parade.”
“I bet Grandad was mad!”
“More disappointed, I think,” she explained. “I went to my mother first and told her what I suspected. She told my father. He said that he expected Dad to go and see him man to man.”
“That sounds like Grandad. Did Dad go and see him?”
“Yes, he did. Don’t forget that Dad was seven years older than me and, prior to us becoming engaged, your grandfather was very worried he might be too old for me. Luckily your father convinced him that he had honourable intentions. I don’t think your grandfather trusted him until after you were born, and he saw how much he loved you and what a good father he was.”
They both sat there in silence for quite a while. “Is that why you waited so long to try and have another baby?” Sam asked thoughtfully.
“Partly, and partly because we were enjoying having you to ourselves.” She looked at the face of this child of hers that she loved, remembering him as a baby. She had marvelled at the sculptured beauty of his infant features; eye lashes long over his cheek; mouth soft; skin so silken, the most precious fabric on earth. And she had thought, as all parents do, he is mine, this amazing little creature is mine.
She leant over and kissed his forehead. “Sam you were a very wanted baby. Your father and I loved each other very much, and we were already engaged. We had clearly made that commitment to each other. All that happened was that you sped things up.”
“And you missed out on the wedding you wanted.”
“A little, but I got you and that was more important.” She hugged him to her.
“And then I didn’t give you a chance to help plan mine, did I? Has that really upset you?”
“Not really. Of course everyone wants to help plan their child’s big day. Darling, I wasn’t upset about that, I was just getting used to you being a man and not needing me anymore. I know that it sounds silly, but as a mother, that’s how I felt,” she explained.
“Mum, I’m always going to need you. Probably more so now,” and his voice broke as he spoke. “I’ll just need you differently.” He swallowed. “What will we do without Dad.” It was a statement.
“Oh darling,” The tears had started. They were always just there. “He would hate seeing us like this. We’ll have to help each other cope.” She blew her nose and tried to calm herself. Resting her head back against the lounge, she was just too tired to even lift it, but she continued talking. “Do you know what Grandma said to me after Grand-mere Celeste died? Because I was so much like Grand-mere, every time she looked at me, she would see her mother and that she would go on living through me and the qualities that she had given me. And she said that some of those qualities would come out in you and your cousins, and if that happened her job had been done.”
“That’s a really nice way of looking at it. Grandma doesn’t normally say stuff like that.”
“I know. It was a bit of a surprise. Grandma may not be all touchy feely, but it shows you that she does feel the same way inside. So what I want to say to you is this,” she paused for a few seconds. “Your father has taught you so many wonderful things. You have so many of his best traits. Your jaw is the same as his was at your age and your hands are so like his. Good capable strong hands. You will do things in your life and you will remember exactly what advice he has given you previously. That is him living on. One day when you and Miranda have children, one of them will do something that is just like your father. That is him living on. In the last 12 months I have seen so much of you that is like your father. But most of all, we must keep talking about him. I don’t want you to think every time his name is brought up that I’m going to fall apart. Maybe I will for a while, but I’m sure that’s normal.”
They both stayed curled up on the sofa together for a while longer, neither wanted to be the first to get up. She chucked him under the chin. “Come on, off to bed with you. Miranda will be wondering where you are.”
“Are you coming?” he asked, standing and stretching.
“In a minute, I just want to have a look at all the flowers and see who sent them.”
“Okay. Miranda said she’d look after them in the morning. Don’t be up too long. Love you Mum.”
“And I love you, my beautiful boy.” She kissed him good night. “Thanks for the great help today,” she called after him as he left the room. He had been such a special gift, conceived in seconds, and yet with all the help and time in the world, there just was not meant to be any others.