Authors: Danielle Shaw
Sweeping through the living quarters of the Nags Head in a sea of cream tulle, satin and lace, Callie gathered together her two
bouquets
. One containing assorted gold and cream blooms tinged with green, and the other her excited sisters with Sophie at the helm.
Watching his wife burst into floods of tears, Declan Callaghan blew his nose on a green and white spotted handkerchief and announced proudly. ‘To be sure Mary! In the company of such beautiful
flowers
, unlike Mr William Wordsworth, I for one will not be wandering lonely as a cloud today!’
*
Sophie perched deeply apprehensive and uncomfortable on the edge of the window seat. In her hand she held Callie’s honeymoon postcard and brief message.
“
Promise
me
you
won't
go
into
labour
until
I
get
back
!”
‘I’ve just about managed that,’ she said, through gritted teeth, feeling the onset of yet another contraction. ‘Now
please
come and fetch me!’
Waiting for Callie and the taxi to arrive, Sophie looked about her. In the past few weeks the house at Coniston Avenue had been completely transformed. At least I’ll be bringing you back to a decent home, she thought, hands clasped lovingly over the cause of her current discomfort. Pausing between contractions, her thoughts winging away to last summer, Sophie imagined a gleaming C70 pulling up outside the house and a concerned Carlos dashing to her side. Sadly, there was neither. Blinking back tears she peered from the window to see a rain-splattered taxi and her anxious friend struggling to open the front gate.
‘Sophie! I came as quick as I … Oh, Jesus! You look terrible!’
‘Thanks Callie. And there was me thinking you’d come to give me your support.’
‘Course I have,’ Callie said, hurrying to the window seat. Blinking in disbelief she watched Sophie reach towards a vase of dried sea holly, brought back from Alvor.
‘Sophie! What are you doing?’
Tightening her grasp on the leathery-spined flower head, Sophie’s eyes smarted with tears until the contraction had passed. She forced a weak smile and unfurled her fingers.
‘I thought it might take my mind off the contraction. It wasn’t very successful.’
‘I’m not surprised!’ Callie snorted and extricating a needle sharp thorn from Sophie’s thumb, winced in sympathy. ‘Hmph! If that’s one of Augustina’s ancient remedies for dealing with contractions, take my advice, gas and air is easier!’
With a heave Callie picked up Sophie’s bag and helped her to the waiting taxi, ‘I don’t think there’s any rush,’ she called to the driver. ‘But if you could drive carefully? You know – not too many stops and starts.’
‘Don’t worry luv,’ came a reassuring voice. ‘I’ve done plenty of these trips in my time. Even helped deliver one once. The father-to-be was in a worse state than his wife, even said he’d name the baby after me if it was a boy.’
‘And was it?’ Callie enquired, trying to make Sophie comfortable.
‘Nah. Which was a shame really. I’d have liked to think of a baby Stanley being wheeled about Beckford in his pram.’
Contemplating the cabbie’s Christian name, Callie almost wished she had told Stanley to hurry. She certainly didn’t relish the thought of Sophie giving birth in a taxi and feeling duty bound to call her baby Stanley! Stanley didn’t have quite the same ring as Carlos. What am I thinking of, she reproached herself, climbing into the cab herself. With things as they were it was highly unlikely Sophie would call the baby Carlos – even if it was a boy.
Firmly convinced it would be girls’ names they would soon be discussing, Callie turned her thoughts away from Carlos. It was Sophie who needed her immediate attention. ‘How is it?’ she asked, watching Sophie’s eyes close in pain and concentration.’
‘Not very pleasant. I’m dreading the main road with those sleeping policemen.’
Looking into his rear view mirror, Stanley waited for the current contraction to subside before suggesting. ‘If you don’t fancy the main road luv, we can go via the Lake District. It’ll take a bit longer but there’s no sleeping policemen.’
‘The Lake District! You’re joking! That’s miles away! Why should Sophie want to go via—?’
‘He means the local Lake District,’ Sophie said through tight lips. ‘Ullswater Terrace, Buttermere Road, Windermere Avenue...’
‘Oh, I see. Whew! For a minute you had me worried. What do you think, Sophie? Can you last out a bit longer?’
‘I think so. First babies take ages to arrive. The midwife will probably send me home when she sees me.’
‘I’ve a feeling she won’t,’ said Stanley, the voice of experience. ‘You mark my words luv, you’re well on the way!’
‘I wish I wasn’t!’ Sophie replied grimly, when they reached Beckford Maternity Unit. ‘I don’t suppose I can change my mind about this?’
Placing Sophie’s overnight bag on the kerb, Stanley shook his head. ‘The first time’s always the worst – so my missus says. ‘Still … you’re here now so you might as well stay. Here’s my card and number. If you want me to take you home tomorrow, give me a buzz. All the best luv.’
Managing a feeble wave Sophie turned and reached for Callie’s arm. ‘I can’t believe he’s talking about me going home tomorrow. At the moment I don’t even know how I’ll get through the next few hours. ‘Oh, Callie! If only Carlos were—’
‘If only Carlos were what?’
‘It doesn’t matter. Forget I said that! It’s simply my hormones playing horrid tricks. As far as I’m concerned Carlos Martins doesn’t exist anymore.’
*
Oh
,
I'm
afraid
he
does
, Callie told herself several hours later when through tear-filled eyes and doing her best to ignore Sophie’s nails digging deep into her palms, she watched her friend safely delivered of a son.
‘Oh, Sophie! Just look at him! He’s simply perfect. What are you going to call him’
Fully expecting Sophie to hesitate – she’d been so cagey about names – Callie was surprised to hear the names Nicholas Edward escape from her lips. ‘Edward after my father and Nicholas ... because I like it,’ she said simply.
‘Well, Nicholas Edward Fuller,’ the midwife announced, handing over the tiny bundle. You’ve already shown your mother you’ve a healthy pair of lungs. Now how about showing her your amazing head of hair?’
Fighting back tears of joy and sorrow Sophie held out her arms. An amazing head of hair was right. Nicholas had masses of it; thick and dark and flattened against his head to emphasise his delicate features. She gazed at him in wonderment, her earlier words returning to haunt her. How could she say Carlos didn’t exist anymore? He was here in miniature, nestled against her breast, navy-blue eyes trying to focus on his mother. From now on and with every waking moment she knew he would be a constant reminder of Carlos and last summer.
Hearing Sophie choke back a stifled sob the midwife turned to Callie with a knowing smile. ‘Such an emotional time, that first moment between mother and baby. After all these years it never fails to move me.’
Too overcome to reply Callie turned to brush away a tear of her own.
‘Sophie,’ she said eventually, when they were alone. ‘Should I go and ring...?’
‘No!’ Sophie cried, adamant. ‘I don’t want him to know! Promise me, you won’t ring Carlos and tell him about—’
‘Actually, I – er – meant Monty and Edna…’.
‘Oh! Of course. Yes, please. If you would?’
Before leaving Sophie’s bedside, Callie brushed Sophie’s damp hair away from her forehead and gave her a reassuring hug. ‘I give you my word, I won’t ring Carlos. Besides, I can’t, can I? You made sure I never found out where he lives.’
And Carlos won’t know where I live either Sophie thought secretly, when Callie left the room. I made sure of that too. With her baby nestled in her arms she thought of Victoria Villas. Of all the residents only Lottie and Pearl had been given her new address and telephone number.
‘I’m making a new start and going ex-directory,’ she’d explained to the two women, ‘In case my – er – ex-fiancé should make a nuisance of himself.’
‘Don’t you worry ducks,’ Lottie had reassured, dabbing at her eyes. ‘Pearl and me remember what Gavin looked like. We won’t breathe a word. Your secret hideaway’s safe with us.’
‘Not so secret you won’t come and visit me?’ Sophie had insisted.
Comforted by the prospect Pearl and Lottie had arrived at Coniston Avenue with a brightly decorated container of early spring flowers.
‘I know it’s cheating and not like planting your own,’ Pearl said, heaving the tub into position in the garden. ‘But we thought you might be grateful for a splash of colour once the baby’s born.’
*
One week later Edna tiptoed cautiously into the nursery. ‘Is he sleeping?’
‘Yes. He fell asleep about five minutes ago. Since then I’ve been admiring Pearl and Lottie’s flowers, thinking how nice it will be to put Nicholas’s pram in the garden. You know, I really can’t thank you and Uncle Monty enough for helping me like this. As for coming all this way.’
‘Nonsense!’ Edna put a finger to Sophie’s lips. ‘I don’t want to hear another word. Monty’s making tea – or did you want a rest?’
Sophie shook her head, pausing by the crib to move a tiny, balled fist and rearrange the blanket. Edna stood by awe struck. ‘He’s so beautiful, just like you used to be’
‘Aunt Edna! He’s not at all like me! From the photos I’ve seen of myself as a baby, I had hardly any hair and looked just like a monkey! I certainly never had navy blue eyes! Nicholas is exactly like his father.’
Spying the sadness in Sophie’s face before she went downstairs, Edna whispered to herself. ‘Then I only wish his father knew he existed!’
‘Still getting plenty of cards then, Sophie?’ Monty observed, carrying the tea tray into the dining room.
‘Yes. It’s like Christmas all over again. What with Easter cards and birth congratulations; I even received three more
Happiness
in
your
New
Home
cards this morning.’
‘Easter was last week and you moved in ages ago,’ Monty said, pouring the tea.
‘I know. But I’ve only recently got round to sending out my new address. The Easter cards – having gone to Victoria Villas – were redirected here by the post office.’
Observing his niece flick through her post, it didn’t escape Monty’s notice that Sophie moved a pale pink envelope to one side.
‘I wonder if it was from Carlos,’ he whispered in hushed tones when Sophie went upstairs to feed Nicholas. ‘I don’t mind admitting I’m extremely concerned, Edna. It’s all very well Sophie saying she doesn’t want Carlos to know where she’s living. There’s nothing to say he won’t try and contact her at Victoria Villas. What if Lottie and Pearl tell him where she is?’
Edna placed a reassuring hand on his arm. ‘Monty dear. The letter Sophie tried to conceal wasn’t from Carlos. It was from Rosa. I recognised her awful writing from that box of postcards, Sophie cleared out when she left Victoria Villas. And … before you become even more paranoid about Carlos snatching little Nicholas away, let me tell you Rosa’s letter had also been redirected. So…’
‘So?’
‘It can only mean Rosa doesn’t have Sophie’s new address either. Callie says you’re worrying unduly and I say you’ve been reading too many tabloid newspapers!’
Unconvinced, Monty paced the floor. ‘Hmph! So what happens when we return to Norfolk and Sophie’s on her own?’
‘Monty!’ Edna cried, ‘Sophie won’t be on her own! If there’s a problem she’ll have Callie, Patrick, the entire Callaghan Clan and no doubt most of the regulars from The Nag’s Head, springing to her assistance. Poor Carlos wouldn’t stand a chance.’
‘Poor Carlos! Why poor Carlos? Surely it should be poor Sophie? It was Carlos who deserted her!’
‘We don’t know that for certain. What I do know however, is that Sophie loved him deeply. She must have to … well you know … According to Callie, Carlos even asked Sophie to marry him.’
‘Then why didn’t she?’
‘Sophie didn’t tell me. It’s not my business to pry,’ Edna replied tersely. ‘If you really want to know I suggest you ask Sophie yourself. But if you upset her Monty, I swear I’ll...’
‘There’s no need,’ a quiet voice called from the doorway. ‘As for upsetting people, I can only apologise. It appears it’s me who’ll upset you. Please don’t fall out on my account.’
Monty leapt to his feet. ‘Forgive me, Sophie. Believe it or not I was only thinking of you. Like your aunt said, I’ve no right to pry.’
Sophie sat wearily in a chair. ‘Oh, I think you have every right – particularly as you’ve both been so good to me. Therefore, it is only fair that I tell you why I couldn’t marry Carlos.’
‘Don’t tell me he was already married!’
‘Monty!’ Edna glared, daggers drawn.
‘No. He wasn’t married when he proposed to me – but he is now. You see he married Rosa.’
‘Rosa!’ Monty and Edna chorused in disbelief.