Sign of the Times (29 page)

She put the blue Igglepiggle and the half blue, half red piece together and smiled smugly at her mother.

“Now, where’s Makka Pakka?” Maria asked.

Amy found a flesh coloured piece of the tubby character, and soon finished the puzzle.
 
She took it apart and started again.
 
Whilst Amy was content to amuse herself, Maria jotted down items she needed to address.
 
Their council tax needed sorting out.
 
She also had to go to the dry cleaner’s in Kilburn, as she needed a suit for the wedding on Saturday.

Maria sat back on her recliner, added a few more items to her list, then picking up her cordless phone, padded through to the kitchen, closing the door behind her.
 

“Sandra.
 
Hi, it’s me.
 
Any calls?”
 
Maria listened as her assistant related a tale of woe about flower arrangements.
 
She made notes as Sandra gave her a few bullet points and then added that Mr McKinstrie had left a message for her.

Alasdair McKinstrie III from Houston, Texas had Scottish heritage and therefore wanted to marry in a Scottish castle.
 
Money was no object.
 
They’d pared the options down to Dalhousie Castle, near Edinburgh, handy for guests flying in from the States; Duns Castle, in the Borders, with its Gothic architecture and finally Edinburgh Castle.
 
Maria didn’t know if they would prefer the status of the latter.
 
Certainly its location and dominating presence over the city was impressive.
 
It was world-famous and instantly recognisable, but from a romantic perspective, she preferred Dalhousie Castle, with its library, secret bar, restaurant in the barrel vaulted dungeon and period furnished bedrooms.

Mr McKinstrie and Ms Geller intended visiting Scotland before choosing the venue, much to Maria’s relief.
 
She had gleaned that Cynthia Geller was going to be hard to please.
 
It would be easier to get the measure of her when she was here and hopefully provide her with everything she needed to have the perfect wedding.

Maria completed her action items and made herself some tea.
 
She glanced at the cuckoo clock on the wall, a gift from her grandfather, hand-made in the Black Forest.
 
It would soon be time for her to go and collect David.
 
But first, she had to call the council tax office.

Chapter Forty Four

“Mummy, I want to go to Angelika’s house,” David said, as they walked home.
 

“Not today, David.
 
We haven’t met her mummy and daddy yet.”

David took the huff and pet lip out, arms folded, tried to squirm away from his mother.

“David, behave, or there will be no TV,” his mother admonished him.

Reluctantly, David stopped his tantrum and reached his hand out to his mother.
 
How wonderful it was to be a child, Maria thought, as they skipped home.
 
Boys in particular had a fantastic capacity for forgetting slights, within five seconds of their happening.
 
David had returned almost immediately to the sunny-natured little boy she loved.

“Right, David.
 
Uniform off.
 
Your play clothes are on the bed.
 
Ten minutes later, David waltzed into the room, “Mummy,” he complained, “we’re missing Dora.”

Maria flicked on the programme.
 
Amy inched her way towards the TV.

“Amy, sit on the couch and watch,” said Maria.
 
“You’re too close.”

Drawing her mother daggers, as only three-year-old girls know how, Amy sat back, twirling her hair in her index finger.

Good, thought Maria
.
I might be able to make that call to the States now.

Maria ended the call to Alisdair McKinstrie to yells from the lounge, where Amy was standing over David, hitting him with a plastic spade.

“Amy, stop that!” she dragged her daughter away.
 
“Why did you do that?”

Her daughter didn’t answer.
 
“OK, naughty step for you.”
 
Taking her daughter out to the hall, she sat her on the bottom step.
 
Bringing herself down to Amy’s eye level, Maria told her why she was there and left.
 
Five minutes later, ensuring her daughter apologised to her son, she left them to play again.

When Maria returned from making chicken goujons, she found them putting Mouse Trap together.
 
David’s tongue was hanging out slightly, whilst he concentrated, his sister wordlessly passing him the pieces.
 
Maria promised them they could play it after dinner.
 
As a result dinner was consumed pretty rapidly.
 
Amy tried to be sly, mushing hers up and dropping it under the table, but Maria noticed and told her she had to clean it up and if she caught her doing it again, she was going straight to bed
.

“Mummy, I’m the green mouse.
 
You moved the red one!” squeaked David.

“David, don’t shout. Mummy made a mistake.
 
Look, I’m putting Amy’s mouse back.”

David was satisfied with this and twenty minutes later, it was Maria’s unsuspecting mouse that was on the receiving end of the cage falling from the top of the post.
 
The children looked at each other in glee.

“I won Mummy.
 
I got your mouse,” said David.

“Well done.
 
Right, bath-time.”
 
Amy ran away.
 
David groaned.
 

“David, pyjamas please.”

A docile David complied, whilst Maria went looking for Amy.
 
She always hid in the same place - the walk-in cupboard.
 
Maria tried not to laugh.
 
When would children understand that hide and seek meant just that.
 
You hide, someone looks for you.
 
You don’t reveal your hiding place when they get near, and you don’t
hide in the same place.
 
Within twenty seconds, Maria was in possession of a wriggling, squealing Amy.
 

Maria loved when the children were freshly washed, hair still damp, smelling of baby shampoo.
 
She dried Amy whilst David towelled himself, although Maria knew she’d still have to dry his back and ensure he was properly dry, particularly his fingers and toes.
 
That boy must have been a seal in a previous life, she thought.
 
He’d happily leave the house sopping wet.
 
She towelled down her two children and then left them on the sofa with The Gruffalo for Amy and The Faraway Tree for David, whilst she went to fetch their milk.
 
Handing them their chocolate milk, she sat down between them to read their stories.

Amy was enthusiastic throughout the telling of The Gruffalo, but Maria could see her flagging before she reached the second page of David’s book.
 
She stopped briefly to throw a blanket over her daughter and then with a look of complicity at David, they snuggled together and she continued telling him about Moon Face, Saucepan Man and Silky.

David tried to press his mother for another chapter, but she was strict and realising it was already late, told him it would have to wait until tomorrow.
 
Maria carried Amy up to bed.

“Teeth, David.”

Groaning, David trudged off to the bathroom.
 
What was it with little boys that they didn’t like to be clean?
 
That said, Maria remembered she had more problems bathing Amy than David.
 
She tucked them in, put the night light on and went downstairs.

Maria woke with a start.
 
Damn, she’d fallen asleep on the chair.
 
What time was it?
 
Two o’clock?
 
Bones creaking, she raised herself off the chair, turned off the TV and the lamps and went to bed.

The alarm seemed to go off just after Maria hit the pillow. It couldn’t be seven o’clock.
 
Two cups of coffee later, she felt much better.
 
Today her mother looked after the kids.
 
Maria simply had to take them to school.

Amy came downstairs, so Maria made her toast and egg soldiers and gave her a glass of milk, then went up to rouse her brother.
 
They complemented each other well.
 
Amy kicked and screamed to avoid having a bath and David made a major production of getting up.
 
He slept very deeply.
 
A hurricane could rip through their home and David would be none the wiser.

Kids dropped at school, Maria headed home for a few hours of uninterrupted work. Her mum had offered to take the kids for lunch today.
  
First she transferred the cash into the children’s trust funds and sorted her clothes for dry cleaning.
  
She’d take it into town before the lunchtime rush.
 
She stopped only to make a cup of tea and a sandwich, as although she’d given the kids breakfast, she’d completely forgotten to make any for herself.
 
Wolfing down her sandwich, something she was glad the children weren’t there to see, she grabbed her car keys and left for town.

*

Busy putting her purse back in her bag, Maria bumped into someone as she came out of the dry cleaner’s.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said.
 
A split second later, she realised it was Angelika’s mum.
 
What a coincidence.

“You’re Angelika’s mum, aren’t you?”

Maria couldn’t decide if the Polish woman looked at her warily or quizzically.
 
Her mind went blank; she couldn’t remember the woman’s name, although she’d thought about her only yesterday.

“Czeslawa,” she said, pronouncing it like ch in chestnut and replacing the w sound with a v.
 
Maria thought she could figure out how it was spelled.
 
Years ago, she’d worked with a Pole called Wieslaw.
  
Maria held her hand out. “Maria, nice to meet you.”
 
She looked at the reed thin woman and said, “Our children are in the same class.
 
Angelika, isn’t it?”

The young woman confirmed this.
 
On impulse Maria said,

“Do you have time for a coffee?”

The woman looked startled, but soon a slow smile broke out across her face and she said, “Of course.”

They were only a few steps from Taylor’s Tearoom, so Maria led the way, ducking to avoid the low ceiling, as they entered
.
 
Indicating a free table, Maria asked Czeslawa what she would like.
 
“Tea, please.”

“Would you like a cake?” Maria was eyeing the colourful array of cakes and pastries wolfishly.
 

Czeslawa appeared unsure.

“Their honey and orange tea loaf is wonderful.
 
My treat.”

Czeslawa gratefully accepted and Maria returned a few minutes later bearing a tray with two pots of tea and two slices of tea loaf.
 
Czeslawa thanked Maria with a smile which reached all the way to her cornflower blue eyes.

“So how you do like living in the village?” Maria asked.

“Yes, very nice. Very happy here,” Maria understood from those two phrases that Czeslawa’s English wasn’t fluent.
 

“Where did you live before?”

“In Livingston.”

“A nice enough town,” Maria hazarded her opinion.

“But we living in Craigshill.
 
Not a good area.”

Maria didn’t know Livingston very well, but she had heard Craigshill wasn’t one of its highlights.

“Kings River very nice village.
 
It is safe for the childrens to play.”

Maria was glad she had brought up the children.

“Yes, I agree.
 
In fact, I wanted to ask if Angelika could come and play at our house.

Czeslawa beamed with happiness. “Yes, would be very good.
 
I think Angelika would like.”

“So, what does your husband do?” Maria asked politely.

“He builder.
 
He work in Bearsden on new buildings.
 
Houses too expensive there.”

Yes, Maria could see where she was coming from.
 
Although Kings River was expensive, it was nowhere near as extortionate as Bearsden.
 

“School is good here?” Czeslawa had found her voice.

“Yes, Kirk Park is a great school.
 
It helps that there are so few pupils.
 
They have good facilities also,” Maria finished.

“Facilities?” Czeslawa didn’t know the word.

“Resources, for example, the sports equipment, the music room, the drama studio.”

“Ah, obiekt,” said Czeslawa, as it dawned on her what Maria was referring to.

“So, do you work?” Maria asked.

“Not yet.
 
I start to look now we in Kings River.
 
We stay here long time I hope.”

“What sort of work are you looking for?”

“Anything.
 
Is difficult for foreigner to get good job here.
 
Maybe cleaning or work in supermarket.”

“Is that what you did back home?”

“No!” Czeslawa said horrified. “I was Office Manager.
 
I responsible eight people.”

Maria thought how humiliating it must be for her to take on a more menial job.

“Do you want to stay here permanently or do you think you will go back to Poland?”

Czeslawa debated her answer.

“I love Poland, but I like very much Scotland.
 
My family still in Gdansk and in Wroclaw, my brother.
 
I hope maybe in ten years we go back and pay for house from money we make here,” she told Maria frankly.

“You are very organised,” Maria said admiringly.
 

They chatted for a bit and as they were leaving, Maria asked Czeslawa where she was parked.

“Oh no, I not have car.
 
Wojciech has car.
 
I take bus.”

“Well in that case, let me offer you a lift?”

“A lift?” Czeslawa clearly didn’t understand.

“I will take you home.”

Czeslawa waved to her as Maria drove away and Maria decided she liked the Polish girl.
  
She was too thin, but what there was of her was muscle.
 
Maria, although by no means overweight, felt frumpy beside her.
 
The girl’s clothes were a second skin. They had agreed that Angelika could come over on Thursday after school.
 
When Czeslawa said she was looking for a cleaning job or something, Maria’s first thought was that all her problems were solved, but then she realised that wouldn’t work.
 
She wanted this woman to be her equal, not her cleaner.
 
A plan was forming in Maria’s mind and she mulled it over as she made herself some camomile tea.