The Golden Thread

by Monica Carly

  Maria turned to look at him, astonished.

  ‘How on earth do you expect me to do that? I told you I know nothing about babies – nasty, noisy things!’

  ‘Haven’t you learned anything from the last few weeks?’

  So that was it. That was why they had lingered in Milan all that time. She had been supposed to absorb the intricacies of childcare, in preparation for taking full responsibility for this bellowing brat. As things began to fall into place with uncomfortable clarity she saw how naïve she had been. There was still one aspect of the whole sordid story that kept nagging at her – just at present she couldn’t concentrate enough to think out clearly what it was – but much of what had happened over the last few weeks was beginning to make sense.

  She realised that Stefano, who was going to be living and working in England, had decided to find an English wife who wouldn’t know anything about his circumstances back home – someone who would be seduced by his Italian charm. Once he had found a suitable candidate for the role, he would woo the lady with soft words and compliments so that she became putty in his hands.

  Then he would rush her into marriage, give her a short but extremely sweet honeymoon, finally bringing her to his family where she would be swept up in the atmosphere of their lively ménage, and the baby would go almost unnoticed.

  That was why he wasn’t interested in Claudia. He would have realised that she would have been far too clever to be taken in by any of his plans, and he would not have been able to mould her as he had Maria. So he had settled on the unintelligent sister, who questioned nothing, and took everything at face value. Well, she may not have been the brightest that ever lived, but she knew she was pretty, and that would certainly have appealed to him. He undoubtedly appreciated an attractive girl, and no one in their right mind would actually describe Claudia as pretty, even if she could look quite nice sometimes.

  She had fallen easily into every one of his traps, and had ended up, as he had intended, in Milan. Now she knew why she had found herself so often in Carlo’s company – at first with Rosa, or one of the sisters, and then by herself. Stefano had hoped that just as she had fallen for him she would also fall in love with this helpless infant, and all her maternal instincts would come to the fore. He had hoped she would get involved in Carlo’s daily routine, until it became second nature to her to feed, and bathe him, and see to the other disgusting necessities of caring for babies. Well, thought Maria, he had misjudged his new wife. She wasn’t going to be pushed around like that! Anyway, she had her own ideas about married life, and they didn’t include babies for some time yet.

  It was hard to think at all with this bundle of rage on her lap, his sole purpose being to shriek incessantly, his tiny body contorted with the agonising emotion to which he gave vent in uncontrollable sobs.

  ‘You do something!’ she said to Stefano. ‘’You take him – he might calm down then.’

  ‘I can’t. I’m a man,’ he replied, as though that explained everything. ‘Holy Mother, think of something, Maria, before the whole plane riots!’

  A stewardess appeared in the aisle.

  ‘Would you like a bottle heated, madam?’ she asked.

  The warm bottle was brought and Maria stuck it into his mouth. Carlo sucked enthusiastically as though he hadn’t had a feed for days, and the noise subsided.

  Maria breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps that was all you had to do every time he cried – just jam a bottle into his mouth. At least she knew how to do that, thanks to Rosa’s tuition.

  Rosa. An image of that poor girl flooded back into Maria’s mind. Suddenly, while everything was peaceful, temporarily, at least, she realised what it was that had been nagging at her. It was that other screaming she had heard when they were driving away, with Maria innocently unaware of the extra passenger in the car. She may not have known that Carlo was coming too, but the others all did. This was obviously part of the plot – that they would take him back with them to England. How she had been manipulated!

  She tried to think what had been said about the mother – some cousin, who did not live in Milan, and who was too ill to look after her own baby. She remembered asking questions about this woman, but no one had ever answered her clearly. Well, this was as good a time as any.

  ‘Stefano, there is something I need to know. After all, I’m your wife and I think I have a right to be informed. You have told me that Carlo is your son – so who is the mother? You said it was a cousin, so why didn’t you marry her, instead of me? After all, if she was ill, and she was having your baby, shouldn’t you be with her, helping her?’

  ‘Shush, we cannot talk like this on a crowded plane.’

  ‘We can, and we will. You have been deceitful, and tricked me into doing something you knew I would refuse if you had asked me outright. You have taken it for granted that I will look after your son, so I have a right to know, and if you don’t tell me I shall stand in the aisle and shout out that this baby is not mine! I shall say I have had him foisted on me by a cruel husband. I don’t care what anyone thinks!’

  She started to undo her seatbelt, and despite the difficulty of having Carlo on her lap, she managed to pull herself up. Stefano grabbed her and pulled her back down.

  ‘Sit down, you little fool. Do not play the idiot.’ Then his voice became calmer, and he began to speak more gently.

  ‘I give you bad time, I know. But you must believe, I wanted you for my wife. You are my bella, my tresore.’

  Maria cut to the chase.

  ‘Never mind all that. Just tell me the facts. I want to know. I have a right to know.’

  He hesitated, and as he fumbled for words she realised she could place those heartbroken cries. The scene came back to her. They were all crowding round the car, blocking her view of the back. Someone must have taken the baby and put him in his little cot on the back seat. Someone had taken him out of the arms of …

  ‘You don’t have to tell me.’ Her tone was icy. ‘I know.’

  He nodded. ‘Si,’ he said. ‘The mother is Rosa.’

  Carlo, having drained his bottle in a few hungry gulps, decided to start yelling again.

  Chapter 37

  It was three whole days before Maria found the opportunity to visit her family. She had hoped, before they left, that as soon as the plane had landed and they had picked up a hired car, they could drive to her home, which really wouldn’t have been much of a detour while en route from Heathrow to Wimbledon. Then she could have basked in the familiarity of her own people – her father and sister – and proudly shown off her handsome husband.

  She had not counted on the presence of a baby. Carlo changed everything. His needs were now paramount, and he set about disrupting just about every area of Maria’s life while still managing to look beguilingly innocent.

  Weren’t babies supposed to sleep at night? Carlo had apparently come into the world ignorant of this piece of vital information. To be fair, he did sleep for the first few hours after he was put down. Peacefully slumbering, with a butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-his-mouth look on his face, he waited contentedly for that moment when Maria, exhausted from all the ministrations he had demanded during the day, had finally sunk into a deep slumber. Then he started, rending the air with screams that were impossible to ignore. The first night Stefano nudged Maria, telling her to go to him.

  ‘Go yourself!’ retorted Maria. ‘He’s your son! Yours and Rosa’s!’

  With a big sigh, he heaved himself out of bed, picked the child up, and sang Italian lullabies in a gentle tenor voice. This apparently appealed to Carlo, as he soon became sleepy and succumbed obligingly to being returned to his cot.

  Sometimes Stefano was not willing to help, refusing to budge and claiming in a martyred tone that he had a long day’s work ahead of him. Maria, unable to stand the noise, would have to respond to the incessant bellows, but her attempts at pacifying him were not successful until she hit on the method that had proved, temporarily at
least, to work on the plane. So what if the advice had been to feed him at regular times? If a bottle was going to pacify him, and allow her to get back to sleep, a bottle he was going to have. Her night’s sleep was just as important as Stefano’s.

  As she cradled the baby who was eagerly devouring his milk, she thought over the shattering events of the past few days. It had been a double shock, discovering about the child’s parents. First Maria had had to swallow the unpalatable truth that Stefano already had a child, and when she had managed to accept that, she was hit by the bombshell of the mother’s identity.

  ‘Rosa!’ she had shrieked, when he had told her. ‘How could you, Stefano! How could you!’

  ‘Shush, don’t make the big fussing. Everyone look at you!’

  ‘How could you have … have … with Rosa!’

  ‘She always had big thing for me. She used to follow me about the house, eyes like puppy dog. Silly little girl, I gave her what she asked for.’

  ‘You gave her a baby – and then you took him away!’

  Was this the gallant, handsome Italian who had swept her off her feet with his loving words? It was horrible to hear him talking like that. Poor Rosa, to have fallen for the oldest son, been landed with an illegitimate baby, and then have the boy snatched out of her arms. No wonder the girl had seemed sulky in Maria’s presence. She had known Maria was being trained up to usurp her rightful place as Carlo’s mother. No wonder she had been reduced to hysterical sobbing as the car drove away.

  Now she, Maria, had been landed with Carlo, and what she resented above all was the way everyone assumed that, as Stefano’s wife, she would take on the maternal role without a qualm. Well, two could play at this game. If Stefano was going to throw these things at her and expect her to comply, then he would quickly find out that she, too, could make her demands. Whether he liked it or not, she was going to visit her father and sister. She would go on Saturday, when he would be at home. She was surely entitled to a few hours of freedom.

  To her surprise Stefano did not demur. He agreed to stay at home and look after Carlo so that she could go on her own, if she promised to be back in the afternoon. Maria, who not very long ago had looked forward to taking Stefano home as her new husband, now relished the prospect of having some time alone with her family. She would have promised anything for the chance to get away briefly so she could visit them.

  She arrived at the familiar front door. As she rang the bell she was so excited she thought her heart would burst. At last she would see the two people she loved most in the world – apart from Stefano, of course – once again.

  Her father was ready for her, as she had telephoned the previous evening to say she would be coming. He beamed at the sight of her and embraced her warmly.

  ‘Good to see you – you’re looking well. How’s Stefano? I was surprised you said you were coming without him.’

  ‘He’s a bit tied up.’

  How was she going to explain about Carlo? She couldn’t make up her mind whether to keep quiet about the whole thing, or to tell it in all its unpleasant detail. After all, they would be bound to know soon. It could hardly be kept a secret.

  ‘Come and have some coffee. I’m not much of a cook, as you know, but there are some sandwiches.’

  He led the way into the lounge. Maria looked around, surprised that Claudia hadn’t come to the door to greet her. She went into the lounge after her father, but there was no sign of her sister there, either.

  ‘Where’s Claudia?’

  ‘She’s not here … she’s … she’s gone away.’

  ‘What do you mean – gone away? Gone where? And why didn’t she write to me?’

  ‘Look, Maria, this is very hard for me.’ Hugh’s hesitation was beginning to worry Maria.

  ‘You didn’t write much to me either,’ she said. ‘You just said “all news when we meet”. Dad, I can’t tell you how much I’ve been longing to come back and see you both. I felt so lonely, at times, being left with Stefano’s family, all jabbering away in Italian and I couldn’t understand a word!’

  ‘I will tell you the news here, but first I want to hear about yourself. How is my little girl? I can’t think of you as a married woman! I must say, Maria, I’m sorry you did everything so suddenly – without giving any of your relatives the chance to attend the wedding.’

  Maria tried to explain. She said it had been Stefano who had wanted it all to happen quickly – he had been so passionate, demanding that they must marry instantly – and that it could only be fitted in with his work commitments if they married straight away, and then rushed off to Venice for their honeymoon.

  ‘That was just amazing! So romantic! Oh Dad, I’ve been longing to tell you and Claudia all about it – and now she’s not here!’

  Then she told him how they had travelled to Milan, to stay with his family, and while they were there he had been working, and spent much time going off on business trips during the day.

  ‘Were the family kind to you?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose they were. But it’s awfully difficult when you can’t follow what they’re saying, or tell them anything yourself.’ She hesitated, unsure whether to say any more about her time there, but she was anxious to return to the subject of her sister. ‘So where is Claudia?’ she asked again.

  Hugh sighed. ‘What I have to say is very hard. I love you both, and don’t want to take sides.’

  ‘Sides? Why should there be sides?’

  ‘I’ll come straight out with it, Maria. Claudia believes that Stefano had asked her to marry him, and she had accepted his proposal. That was when he went to Oxford to accompany her to the ball. She thinks that, after that had happened, you took him away from her, while she was still up at Oxford.’

  ‘Stefano proposed to Claudia! That’s not possible. He didn’t ever want to marry her! He said she was a very good teacher, and he liked her, but I know for sure he never wanted to marry her!’

  ‘How can you be so certain? Claudia was utterly convinced they were engaged.’

  ‘Engaged! There’s no way that could have happened! I know that for a fact – because … because ….’ It was all going to have to come out. ‘Because there’s a baby, and I only found out afterwards that the reason he wanted to marry so quickly was so that he could bring his son to England, where he’s going to be working, and this way he’s got a ready-made mother for Carlo.’

  ‘A baby! I don’t understand. If it’s his son, then who’s the mother?’

  ‘The kitchen maid,’ Maria replied bitterly.

  Chapter 38

  Gradually Maria resigned herself to the duties of motherhood. When the weather permitted she would push Carlo up to Wimbledon Common, finding that several young mothers congregated there. She began to get to know some of them, and life became more sociable.

  As for her feelings towards Carlo, slowly but surely they altered. It was hard to resist his smiles, and she enjoyed playing with him as he became more responsive. She was intrigued by each new stage in his development. When he could sit up he seemed more like a human being, and thank goodness he did soon learn to settle at night, which in itself made her feel more kindly disposed towards him. Gradually her resentment faded.

  Seeing her caring for his son with genuine warmth, Stefano was less edgy and slipped back into the role of adoring husband, most of the time anyway. She had hit the depths during the first days back in England, trying to come to terms with all that had happened. Now she felt she was picking up again, and life was becoming happier in many ways. But one wound continued to gnaw away at her, its pain never diminishing.

  Those words still rang in her ears – the words Claudia had spoken to Hugh the last time he had seen her. He had passed them on, during that first visit Maria had made, because she had been unable to grasp the extent of Claudia’s hostile feelings. When Hugh told her Claudia had gone away for a whole year she had said, ‘Claudia doesn’t mean it, I’m sure. She won’t stay away all that t
ime! Why should she? She’ll soon be back, and when she does come, please tell her I’m longing to see her.’

  ‘It’s no good hoping, Maria. Claudia said she could only cope by cutting you out of her life completely. I can’t pretend to understand it. Her hurt seems to have gone very deep – I was extremely worried about her when she was on the point of going away – she looked so pale and tired. I’m worried about her now, but I don’t know where she is and there’s nothing I can do. And I’m afraid you will have to accept what she has said.’

  Cut her out of her life! Maria still couldn’t believe her sister had said that. Well, she wasn’t going to accept it. She would write, and she would keep on writing, and one day, she was quite sure, Claudia would write back. Claudia surely wouldn’t stay away very long. Fancy going off so secretively! What a strange thing to do.

  So every few weeks Maria wrote. She sent the letters to her father, just in case Claudia had come back, or in case he knew where she was. She did not hear back, but she went on writing. Each time she said how much she missed her sister, and hoped they would soon be in touch again. She went on writing all that year.

  At last a letter came from her father. He reported that Claudia had returned, looking thin and pale. That she had pursued teaching posts in various parts of the country and settled on a school in a large suburban town, but he was not at liberty to tell her where, and that she was as adamant as ever in her refusal to be in contact with Maria. He said he had passed Maria’s letters on to Claudia, and subsequently found them torn up, unopened, in the waste bin.

  Maria had felt deeply hurt when she learned that her sister had returned but still did not wish to see her. She wept bitterly when she learned of the fate of her letters. Hugh went on to say that he had begged Claudia to relent, telling her how upset Maria was, and how she longed for the rift to be healed. But he was extremely sorry to have to report that he could see no change in her attitude. It pained him greatly to have his two daughters at odds with each other, but he couldn’t see what else he could do.