Sign of the Times (28 page)

Chapter Forty Two

Maria – LEO

Generous and warm-hearted.
 
Protective of those close to them, especially children and those who are weak.
 
Strong and surprisingly sensitive.
 
Excellent organisational skills. Makes bold plans.

“David, stop pushing Amy!” Maria shouted at her son in frustration. David could be a right little devil, she thought.
 
He was seeing how far he could push her.
 
He’d been following his little sister around like a second skin all day, so much so that when three-year-old Amy turned around, her brother bumped into her.
 
Maria could tell Amy was getting annoyed.
 
It won’t be long before
she’s
pushing
you
around, she thought.

“Amy.
 
Come here so I can put your jacket on.
 
David, get Amy’s red hat for me please.”

Obediently her son fetched the requested item.

“You like red, don’t you, Amy?”

Her daughter, perched on her mother’s knee, said, “Don’t like yellow.”

“No, you don’t like yellow.
 
What’s yellow the colour of?”

“The sun,” said David.

“That’s right, good boy.
 
What else?”

“Mr Wilson’s car.”

“That’s right too.”
 
Their neighbour had a yellow Micra.

“Big Bird yellow,” Amy cried.

“That’s right.
 
Big Bird is in Sesame Street.”

“Mum,” David asked. “Is Sesame St near Isaac’s house?”

“No.
 
It’s in America.”

Frowning in concentration, David asked, “Is that in England?”

“No.
 
England is next to Scotland.
 
America is across the big sea.”
 
Technically it was an ocean, but Maria felt now was not the time for explanations.
 
On reflection, perhaps she should have clarified matters, otherwise how would he ever learn?
 
She was a firm believer in teaching coming from the home.
 
As a single parent she felt this burden even more keenly.
 
She’d never be accused of leaving teaching to the teachers.
 
School certainly wasn’t what it was when she was a pupil but she
was
grateful for Amy’s nursery place.
 
Coupled with David being in Primary One now, it gave her five mornings of sanity a week.

*

Although a single parent, Maria counted herself quite lucky.
 
Their three bedroom house in the village of Kings River, near Glasgow, was five minutes walk from the nursery and primary school.
 
Maria knew she had made the right decision moving here from the city, which could be rather lonely.
 
David’s conception was the result of a lapse in judgment.
 
His father had no intention of sticking around.
 
Then, whilst pregnant, she’d met Stuart, who was warm, kind, funny, took the bins out, put the toilet seat down and even bought her flowers occasionally.
 
Before David was born, he asked her to marry him.
 
She said yes and they were married when her bump had subsided.
 
Stuart was delighted when David came into the world, not caring that David wasn’t his natural son.
 
He was Maria’s birthing partner and had tears in his eyes when he held his son for the first time.
 
He’d always expected to be a father, just not yet.

The first few months were hard; sleepless nights, a crying baby, Maria trying to work part-time from home
,
yet still breastfeeding.
 
All her energy had left her and Stuart was run ragged too.
 
No more socialising with his mates at the pub.
 
When he came home from working in his garage, he was no sooner across the threshold, than Maria put David into his arms.
 
She was wrecked.
 
She’d grab a twenty minute nap before dinner, whilst Stuart cooed at David.
 
He blew raspberries on his tummy, tickled him and jumped up and down pretending to be a gorilla - anything to amuse him.
 

Six months after David was born, Maria discovered her period was late.
 
She couldn’t be pregnant.
 
She was still breastfeeding and they always used condoms.
 
So Maria nipped into the chemist and bought herself a pregnancy testing kit.
 
The test was positive.
 
She made an appointment with her doctor, to have him confirm it, but she already knew.
 
Did she already feel different, or was she imagining it?
 
The doctor congratulated her.
 
Maria asked Stuart to be home on time.
 
She picked David up from her mother’s and ensured that their little family unit was intact for Stuart’s arrival.
 

Stuart was over the moon.
 
Although he considered David to be his son, Maria knew what it would mean to him to have his own child.
 
They didn’t tell anyone for the first twelve weeks, preferring to be cautious, but after that, you couldn’t hold Stuart back.
 
It had been easy to hide the pregnancy initially, as no-one expected Maria to drink whilst she was breastfeeding David.
 
Although their friends and families were taken aback at the two pregnancies so close together, they were happy for the couple.
 
Stuart showered Maria and David with gifts, was even more affectionate than usual and talked about buying a house in the countryside.
 
Their two bedroom flat in Shawlands was lovely, but impractical with two young children.
 
They spent hours poring over schedules, whilst Stuart ticked off the criteria for the location.
 
Since they
wouldn’t be planning to move
again any time soon, good schools were a must, as was decent public transport.

One day Stuart came home from work, bursting with excitement
.
 
He’d found the perfect place.
 
Fifteen miles from Glasgow, a village of seven hundred people, with a shop, a pub, a village hall and a primary school.
 
Maria agreed that it sounded good, but had he looked at houses for sale there?
 
Could they afford it?
 
Well, that was the catch.
 
As everyone loved living there, it was rare for people to move.
 
So, they waited.

A few weeks later, Stuart called Maria to ask her to check out a property, which had come up for sale.

“It’s within our price range.”
 
Maria brought the website up.
 
It was beautiful. Three bedrooms, large back garden, dining kitchen and a spacious, airy lounge.
 
Maria, without hesitation said, “OK, make the appointment.”

The phone rang a few minutes later. “We can see it tonight at six thirty.”

Stuart had said he wouldn’t be late, so at quarter to six, Maria dialled his mobile.
 
No answer.
 
When six o’clock came, she called again.
 
Still no answer.
 
Damn, now they were going to be late.
 
She’d kill Stuart.
 
By quarter past six she was beginning to worry.
 
At six thirty she drove over to his garage to see what the hold up was.

Driving at the speed limit, she made good time until she was slowed by heavy traffic ahead.
 
“Bloody roadworks,” Maria scowled.
 
But this time it wasn’t roadworks which was the problem.
 
She saw the ambulance fly past her, blue lights flashing, drivers hurriedly pulling their cars up on the verge.
 
As the siren faded, the traffic gradually started to move again.

“Thank God,” she thought in relief. But as she approached the crux of the hold up, she felt uneasy.
 
Something wasn’t right.
 
Slamming on the brakes, she got out, oblivious to the car horns honking behind her.
 
A scream tore from her throat
.
 
Stuart’s Volvo lay wrecked in front of her.
 
The roof had been ripped off and there was virtually nothing left of the driver’s side.
 
An articulated lorry lay awkwardly beside it, relatively unscathed.
 
Maria could hear the policemen telling her to calm down, but she couldn’t stop sobbing and she barely managed to croak, ‘my husband’s car,’ before she collapsed.

When she came to, she was wearing a hospital gown.
 
Her father was holding her hand, tears streaming down his face.

“Oh Dad, please no.”

Her father looked at her sadly.

“Was it Stuart?” she had to be sure.

“I’m sorry darling,” her father’s voice broke.

Maria fainted again.
 
When she woke up, her thoughts were of the baby.

“Is the baby OK?”

“The baby’s fine.
 
They put you here because you fell when you saw the car. When the police realised what you were saying and that you were pregnant, they weren’t taking any chances.
 
Then they called me.”

“I need to see him,” she said firmly.
 
“Where is he?”

“I don’t know exactly.
 
I’m not sure if they’ve taken him to the mor…,” he couldn’t finish.

“Dad, what happened?”

“Stuart’s car collided with a lorry.”

“Dad, it was wrecked.”
 
Stifling a sob, she asked. “Did he die instantly?”

Her father held her close and said, “Yes, he didn’t suffer.”

Stuart was gone.
 
Gone and now he would never see his baby, which was growing inside her.

The next few weeks passed in a heartbeat.
 
Her parents moved in with her.
 
Maria barely remembered the funeral.
 
Stuart’s parents had handled it.
 
Her mother insisted she ate properly as she was still breastfeeding, and also had to think of Stuart’s baby inside her
.
 
That spurred her on.

Chapter Forty Three

“Push, Maria, push,” commanded the midwife.
 
Maria clutched her mother’s hand, as a scream burst from her throat.
 
As yet another contraction ripped through her she bore down again.
 
Closing her eyes, she saw Stuart’s face, urging her on.
 
Alternating between despair at Stuart not being there to witness this and joy at the imminent birth of her child, she gave one final push.

“It’s a girl,” said the midwife.

“Amy,” whispered Maria.
 

“Would you like your mum to cut the cord?” the midwife asked her.
  
Mother and daughter exchanged a glance and Maria’s mother took the scissors from the midwife.

As Maria watched her mother sever the physical link between her and her baby, she fought back tears as she thought how proud Stuart would have been of the little bundle of perfection they had created.
 

Swaddled in a towel, the midwife passed Amy to Maria.
 
Out of such pain, comes such joy, she thought.
 
She wasn’t thinking of the labour pain, but the pain of losing her soul mate.
 
Compared to that, labour had been a breeze.
 
Amy looked so like her father, same eyes, nose and chin and would serve as a constant reminder of Stuart.
 

*

Six months later, Maria’s father brought her a schedule for a house in Kings River.
 

“Dad, what are you doing?”

“The flat’s too small for you and it would mean you were closer to us.”

“Dad, I can’t move there.
 
That’s where Stuart chose.”

“And that’s precisely why you should move there.
 
It’s what Stuart wanted, for your family.”

Maria looked down at her daughter, who was gurgling in her rocker.
 

“I don’t know,” she faltered.

“Maria.
 
It’s got to be worth a look.
 
It’s the same house.”

“What?”

“It came back on the market.”

“Isn’t that too weird?” Maria asked.

“I prefer to think of it as Fate.
 
Can I make an appointment?”

In two minds, his daughter relented.

They went to see the house.
 
Very little had changed since the photos Maria had seen previously. Her father had advised her not to mention how interested she might be in the house, as the owner might accept a lower offer to hasten the sale.
 
Although she’d done OK from the insurance policy Stuart had put in place for them when they married, she would still need a small mortgage.
 
The south side flat should fetch a decent price, but Kings River was a very sought after locale.

The house was perfect.
 
When the estate agent went downstairs to give them some privacy, Maria had cried on her father’s shoulder.

“I think you should put an offer in,” her dad said.

Through a haze of tears, she agreed.

They’d lived here nearly three years now.
 
Maria dedicated herself to her family.
 
Every now and then, she ventured out with friends, but she wasn’t remotely interested in finding another partner.
 
What were the chances of finding two soul mates in this life?
 
She was the happiest she’d been in years.
 
She loved her children intensely and often thought of her husband.
 
She was grateful to have such a level-headed father and would have been lost without him.

“I want chocolate buttons, Mummy,” David cried, as he skipped along on his way to school.

“Fudge,” Amy said.
 

“If you’re very good, you’ll get a treat when you come home.”

“Want it now,” sulked Amy.

“Me too,” cried David.

“David, Amy, later.
 
Understood?”

Meekly they mumbled, “Sorry Mummy.”

She might be overprotective, but she instilled discipline in her children.
 
Would Stuart have done the same, she wondered.
 
Sometimes she felt he would have been more lenient, but rather than be soft on them, as some sort of compensation for not having a father, Maria had chosen the opposite tack.
 
She needed them to be tough for all the knocks life threw at them.
 
They were allowed to watch one hour of television a day.
 
Maria wanted to encourage creativity, to develop their imaginations.
 
Rather than allow them to watch as much TV as they could stomach, they had to choose just one programme
each.
 
She spent a lot of time playing with them.
 
Now her life was about her children and her work.
 
Her events company had prospered greatly in the last few years.
 
Fortunately the children hadn’t yet reached the stage of football practice, karate, ballet and piano lessons, so she was able to enjoy them whilst she was still the centre of their universe
.

Maria ensured the children had everything, settled them into school, kissed them goodbye and returned home, via McAndrew’s.
 
The shop was an institution in the village.
 
It first sold goods to the miners, when Kings River was in its infancy.
 
Times had changed and both the railway line and the mines were long gone.
 
The nearest train station was five miles away, although the village was on the main bus route.
 
The shop sold everything the villagers could need at short notice.
 
It served as shop, bakery, butcher and post office.
 
It was much larger than the original store, opened in 1852.
 
Although more expensive than the big supermarkets in town, the prices weren’t so inflated that they drove customers away.
 
On the contrary, people had been coming here for years.
 
Many people came to Kings River because they liked the idea of village life and had moved here away from the hustle and bustle of the city.
 
Their children were also guaranteed to receive a good education.
 
There were only fifty pupils at the tiny primary school and nine at the nursery.
 
The four teachers, two classroom assistants and headmistress were a definite attraction.
 
With the tranquillity of village life and removing themselves from the stresses of the city, people lived longer and the village was home to a burgeoning elderly population.

Maria moved around the shop.
 
Ian McAndrew, the great grandson of the founder, was busy
with a customer, so Maria picked up a basket and trundled around the shop.
 
Hedgehog bread for David, a few tins of soup, even she could cheat every so often. She added some tomatoes, lettuce, carrots and some goat’s cheese, as well as the kids’ chocolate.

“Hi Maria.
 
Just dropped off the little ones?” Ian asked.

“Yes.
 
Now for some peace and quiet.”

“How’s business?” Ian asked.
 

“Good, thanks.”

Ian often wondered if it was hard for her, planning other people’s weddings, when her own husband had died so tragically.
 
Being a small village, everyone knew about Maria’s circumstances before she moved in.
 
It was a good thing too, as initially she had been very reserved, scarcely saying two words.
 
Even with its small population, as soon as Maria was back on her feet, she’d received a request from a local woman to design
a special Christmas card.
 
Some silver wedding invitation and response cards followed.
 
After that, the requests poured in.
 
It kept her busy, temporarily taking her mind off her widow status and allowed her to work from home, whilst her children were infants.
 
When both children went to nursery, her father had felt it was time to branch out.
  
She’d quickly enlisted her sister and best friend’s help.

*

Shopping unpacked, Maria sat down to write her To Do list.
 
Highly organised, she was possibly one of the few people who stuck to their To Do list.

Mon

Send sample card to printer for McKillops

Printers re cards for Hennesseys

Arrange meeting for Wed 14
^th
   
Lighthouse Inn

Carriages re rehearsal dinner for Struthers’

Renew employment insurance

Meet with McKillops

Maria decided that was enough to be going on with.
 
After a few hours, she checked her watch and saw that soon she would have to collect the children.
 
Although Maria worked from home, her mother looked after the children two afternoons a week. Today was one of Maria’s afternoons and so work was put on hold again.

“Mummy!” Amy called, running towards her, face red with exertion.
 
It was chilly today, even though it was summer.
 
David had only started school two weeks ago.
 
She couldn’t quite believe her little boy was nearly five.
 
She wished Stuart could have seen him.
 
It had been very emotional for her, although David had strutted about the place in his new red jersey, black trousers and polished black shoes oblivious.
 

“Hi sweetie,” Maria crouched down and hugged her daughter.

“I got a book, Mummy.”

“You have a book?” Maria asked.

“Yes.
 
It has a gruffalo.”

“A gruff-a-lo?” Maria emphasised the word.

“Yes.
 
Can we read it when we get home?” Amy asked.

“After lunch.
 
Let’s go and find David,” said Maria.

They found him deep in conversation with a little girl.

“What’s your name?” Maria asked, not recognising her.

“Angelika,” the girl said with a trace of an accent.
 

Ah, this must be the little Polish girl.
 
She had heard that a family from Gdansk had moved into the village.
 
The little girl was beautiful; pure white hair, big blue eyes, immense eyelashes and white, almost translucent skin, with that amazing bone structure that only Eastern Europeans seem to have.
 

“Nice to meet you, Angelika,” Maria said.
 
She already knew that Angelika’s family lived in the street behind theirs.

“David, c’mon. Say bye to Angelika.
 
You’ll see her this afternoon”

“Bye,” said David, taking his mother’s hand, not taking his eyes off Angelika.

“Want alphabet soup,” cried Amy, laying down her spoon, refusing to eat her homemade chicken soup.
 

“Amy, eat up and you can have a treat,” Maria cajoled.

David deposited back at school after lunch, Maria asked her daughter,

“Amy, where’s your book?”

“Here it is, Mummy,” Amy plopped her Dora the Explorer satchel down on her mother’s lap.

“OK. Let’s see.
 
The Gruffalo.”

Amy snuggled into her mother, fingers playing with her hair, as her mother read. After the fifth reading, Maria had had enough.

“OK, Amy, we can read it again tonight.
 
Why don’t you go and play with your dolls?”

“Don’t want to,” Amy pouted.

Maria grimaced.
 
She was like her brother in many ways.
 
Unfortunately although she had Stuart’s temperament and could be very sweet, she’d learned from her brother how to remonstrate.
 
Sighing, Maria said, “Go and get a puzzle.”

Visibly cheered, Amy set off, dragging her bag with her.
 
Maria didn’t have time to constantly be tidying, so she trained the children well.
 
It wasn’t a big ask, but it helped.
 
It never ceased to amaze her when she visited friends who had kids, whose houses were in complete chaos, with bits of trodden in cornflakes on their floors.
 
Then there were the dirty bibs, wipes and nappies; the latter thankfully clean, strewn around.
 
She simply couldn’t live like that.

Amy returned with the puzzle, a huge smile on her face.
 
She dumped all the pieces out of the box.

“Igglepiggle!” she cried.

“Yes, that’s Igglepiggle. Now, where’s the other piece?” Maria asked.
 
Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, Amy pointed to a piece with blue in it.
 
Maria shook her head, “No, that’s the sky.”

Amy found another blue piece, which also had a red section, “Blankie,” Amy said.

“That’s right.
 
The red piece is his blankie.”