by Monica Carly
‘I’d love to,’ she said. And this time, she meant it.
Chapter 48
A party! We must have a party!’
Excited by her own idea, Nicola announced it eagerly, hoping for a positive reception. She was not disappointed.
‘How wonderful!’ Maria injected all the enthusiasm into her voice that her frailty could muster. ‘It’s ages since I’ve been to a party!’
‘This party’s coming to you,’ said Nicola. ‘No need to go anywhere or do anything.’
‘What sort of a party?’ enquired Timothy. ‘Not fancy dress, I hope.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Nicola admonished him. ‘A family party – just for our family. We’ll ask Claudia, Fran and Nigel to come next Saturday evening.’
‘Any chance Clive could come?’
‘’Fraid not – he’ll be in America. He’s only due back two days before our wedding.’
Timothy was still intent on making helpful suggestions.
‘As Mum may be in bed, perhaps we could make it a pyjama party.’
‘That wouldn’t be any good,’ said Nicola. ‘I wear nighties.’
‘No you don’t,’ said Timothy, and they both giggled.
‘Stop it, you two! You’re making me blush. Let’s discuss this seriously. I think it’s a great idea, Nicola, if you’re sure it wouldn’t be too much work for you. We don’t need to feed them.’
‘Of course we do! It wouldn’t be a party otherwise. But don’t worry – I’ll enlist the help of my two good friends Mr Marks and Mr Spencer, and they’ll do all the preparation for me.’
Timothy still had another proposal.
‘What about a bring-a-bottle party?’
‘No!’ Maria was adamant. ‘I don’t want them feeling they have to make a contribution – that is, if you’re sure you can manage, Nicky. But I’ve got a good idea. What about a “Bring-your-own-memory” party?’
‘That,’ said Nicola, ‘is absolutely perfect.’
* * *
Fran and Nigel picked Claudia up, and Claudia made the acquaintance of the disembodied voice she had spoken to several times on the phone. He looked quite a lot older than Fran, although Claudia knew there was only six years’ age difference. She supposed it was the beard, which, together with the moustache, hid most of his face.
‘It’s good to meet at last,’ he said. ‘Fran hasn’t stopped talking about you since she found you.’
‘I don’t know what to say to that,’ said Claudia. ‘When you meet people in the flesh it can be disappointing.’
‘Quite so,’ he agreed. ‘I apologise for any disappointment.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Claudia, feeling she had got off on the wrong foot, ‘I didn’t mean … that is, I wasn’t referring …’
‘Don’t worry, Claudia,’ intervened Fran. ‘You’ll soon discover Nigel is an awful tease.’
‘I hope I can manage that,’ responded Claudia. ‘You see, I think I lost my sense of humour a long time ago.’
‘Then it shall be my life’s mission to find it,’ replied Nigel. ‘I don’t suppose you remember where you had it last?’
‘You see what I mean?’ said Fran. ‘He never stops! But wasn’t it nice of Maria and her family to ask us along? I am so looking forward to meeting them.’
‘I think I should warn you, so you’re not too shocked when you get there.’ Claudia felt anxious about this meeting. ‘Poor Maria, well, she does look very ill. She might well be in her bed.’
‘Don’t worry.’ Fran was reassuring as ever. ‘We’ll take it just as it comes. And I promise you we’ll be ready for whatever we see when we get there.’
Maria was not in bed. She was sitting in an armchair, propped up by many cushions, wearing a lovely pink dress. Her hair had been brushed and curled, and her lips were bright red. Make-up was bringing colour to her cheeks – but still nothing could disguise how pale and thin she was. She was smiling, and her eyes shone with happiness. Claudia held her hand as she introduced her daughter. Fran knelt beside her chair.
‘It’s just wonderful to meet you, Aunt Maria.’
‘Oh, don’t bother with the Aunt bit – just call me Maria. I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you’ve come, you and your husband.’
Nigel bowed slightly as he took her hand.
‘And you can call me Nigel.’
‘With all that fuzz on your face you’ll be lucky if I don’t call you Bluebeard.’
‘As it happens I have my eye patch in my pocket. Fran, what did you do with the parrot?’
Soon all the introductions were completed. Fran had been looking round the room and had spotted a vase standing by itself on a small table.
‘That’s a very beautiful vase! I adore that ruby red colour, and the petal effect round the rim. It’s so elegant – I’m wondering if it’s Murano glass?’
‘How clever of you,’ replied Maria. ‘It’s a treasured possession – I brought it back from my honeymoon in Venice. I bought it as a gift … that is, it was intended to be a gift, but I liked it so much I kept it for myself.’
Claudia spoke quietly. ‘My guess it that it was bought for your sister, but as she stubbornly refused to have any contact with you, it couldn’t be passed on.’
‘Now Claudia, we are not going over any of that,’ said Maria as firmly as she could. ‘The past is all over, and now you are here, and that’s all that matters to me. And today I am completely happy. Not only do I have my beloved son and my dear soon-to-be-daughter-in-law living with me, but my beloved sister, and her daughter and son-in-law are here, in my home, too, and my cup of happiness is full.’
Fran stepped in to fill any awkward gap that might have arisen.
‘It’s strange, really – I’ve always loved Italy, and all things Italian – and now I’ve discovered that I had an Italian father.’
‘You love Italian food, too, don’t you, darling,’ interjected Nigel. ‘I’m happy to say my wife has a healthy appetite, especially recently.’
‘Talking of food,’ said Timothy, ‘we have some plain English fare set out in the kitchen. We’d like you to come and help yourselves, and then bring it in here, and I’ll see you have something to drink.’
There were all sorts of savouries and salads, and everyone had their fill. Many appreciative comments were expressed, but Nicola modestly disclaimed any credit. They all noted that Maria’s plate held only a minute portion, and very little of that was consumed, but no one commented.
When the plates and glasses had been cleared away, Timothy announced that it was now ‘share a memory’ time. Claudia opted to begin.
‘I always wanted to be a teacher, for as long as I can remember. I started practising at a very early age – possibly as young as five, if my memory serves me correctly. My class consisted of my sister, Maria, and all the dolls and stuffed toys we possessed.’
‘And I was the most woolly-headed of them all,’ said Maria.
‘Certainly, at the age of two, concentration was not your strongest point.’
‘Nothing changed throughout my school life. I never could see any point in bothering with my studies. I just wanted to have a giggle with my friends. But I did admire you, Claudia, because you were so single-minded, and seemed to have a goal, and you directed all your energies to that. I was rather in awe of you.’
‘And I envied you your beautiful curly hair, and attractive appearance, and the way the boys all came flocking round you. You seemed to know what to say to them, whereas I felt shy and awkward.’
‘But look what a success you made of your professional life!’
‘Be that as it may, this is my memory, and I want to thank you for being part of the first class I ever taught.’
‘Mum, do you still remember anything you learned from those lessons?’ enquired Timothy.
‘No, I’m afraid I don’t, but can I do my memory next? I remember how, when I was twelve and Claudia fifteen, our mother died. It was very young to be l
eft motherless, and our father, Hugh, was a rather distant figure. What I remember is the way my big sister slipped into the role of mother. She looked after me in a way that I now realise was far above her years. She would make sure I had all I needed for school every day, and although we had a housekeeper, it was Claudia that I always turned to, and I felt secure because I knew she would sort everything out for me.’
‘Oh,’ said Claudia, ‘I didn’t know … you felt like that … I’m glad.’
‘Now it’s time for the younger generation.’ Timothy was anxious that Maria did not become overtired. ‘You start, Fran, if you will.’
‘I remember a beautiful summer’s day, and an attractive cove where the rollers pounded in on a deserted shore. The sea looked so inviting, with the sun dancing on the water. I couldn’t resist it, and although my two friends chickened out, I struck out for an invigorating swim through the waves. It was only when I turned round and saw the shoreline rapidly receding, and felt the strength of the current dragging me further out, that I realised what a fool I’d been. Then I saw a figure streaking through the waves towards me, and as I held on, literally for dear life, a pair of incredibly strong arms and legs forged a pathway back, until I was finally on the beach once more. He was only a young lad, in his early teens, but he was my hero, and I shall never forget.’
‘I think I should go next,’ said Timothy. ‘I also remember a lovely Cornish cove, which my mother and I were enjoying in peace, when suddenly it ceased to be deserted because three giggling females, shouting and laughing together, came down and ruined the atmosphere of seclusion completely. What’s more, one of them, who I must admit was devastatingly attractive – which was perhaps why I was watching her – forgive me Nicky, darling, I was but a lad and I hadn’t met you then – behaved in a foolhardy manner by taking a dip, and was in serious danger of disappearing beneath those rolling waves. So I thought I’d better hoick her out, which I did. After all, she was rather pretty, and it seemed a shame to let the fish have all the fun.’
Everyone laughed, relieved that the atmosphere had been lightened. Nicola then recounted the night she and Timothy had found each other.
‘It all happened when we started dancing together to some Andrew Lloyd Webber tunes. I shall never forget, because the music, and being in Timothy’s arms, felt so romantic.’
‘I well remember, and how striking you looked in your green dress.’
‘Actually, I think it was blue.’
‘Oh, no it wasn’t.’
‘Oh, yes it was.’
‘I think I’d better have my turn,’ intervened Nigel. ‘I well remember the day I first met my new mother-in-law.’
‘But you only met her today,’ objected Fran.
‘Exactly so,’ agreed Nigel. ‘And I haven’t forgotten it yet. And talking about not forgetting, I’d like to suggest a team photo, so we have a lasting memory of a very special day.’ He took his digital camera out of his pocket.
‘Oh no!’ groaned Maria. ‘I don’t want to go down to posterity looking like this!’
‘You,’ said Nigel, ‘are the star, and we all want to remember being together today.’
‘But if you take it …’ demurred Timothy.
‘No problem. I have a self timer, so I can be in it too.’
Nigel grouped them round Maria’s armchair. He put a dining-chair on either side, and sat Claudia on one side, while the other three stood behind the chairs, with Timothy in the middle, flanked by the two girls.
‘I shall sit on the other side of Maria once I’ve pressed the appropriate button. First I need a table to put the camera on.’
The precious glass vase was carefully moved, and the table placed the right distance in front of the group. Nigel squinted at the back of the camera until he was sure he had it placed correctly. Then he pressed something and began to head for the chair, but made the mistake of hesitating and looking back, so that the camera flashed as he was just turning to sit down. There were various comments about treasuring pictures of Nigel’s behind.
‘Try again!’ he said cheerfully. This time he had ample time to sit down with the others as the camera failed to flash.
‘Must have done something wrong. Third time lucky.’ But the third time wasn’t lucky because it transpired that Claudia had blinked.
‘Once more with feeling,’ urged Nigel, and at last the picture was a success. By this time the guests were aware that Maria was looking very tired.
‘Before we go,’ said Claudia, ‘I‘d like to say something.’
She paused, moved by the occasion, momentarily unable to continue. Claudia, who had made many speeches throughout her life and who had never feared standing up in front of people, confident that she always performed competently, was today searching for words. Finally she spoke, in a way that was new to her – as it clearly came from the heart.
‘I’d like to thank Timothy and Nicola for welcoming us all here, and, of course, my dear sister. I have spent the last forty years believing that I didn’t need anyone, and I was perfectly happy on my own. I know now that I was quite wrong. Today, here with my new family and a part of a bigger family, I have felt I belonged. This has been the happiest day of my life.’
Maria squeezed her hand. Then Timothy spoke.
‘As you know, Nicola and I are looking forward to our wedding day in two weeks’ time. We would like to invite you all, Claudia, Fran and Nigel, to come and share our special occasion with us. You will be our guests of honour.’
‘That would be just amazing,’ whispered Maria.
Chapter 49
How could the sun fail to shine on such a special day as this? How could the sky be anything but brilliant blue? True, there were one or two dark clouds on the horizon – but they would not be allowed to encroach on the brightness of the day. Today was too important to everyone involved. Today Timothy and Nicola were going to be married, and the ceremony would be witnessed by all the people who mattered most to them.
Timothy was there, standing at the front of the church, dressed in his hired morning suit, as devastatingly handsome as a groom could look. His best man, Ben – a friend from his school days – hovered ready to lend his support. Nervously, Ben kept fingering the ring in his pocket, to make sure it was still there. He would be glad when they reached the part where he had to hand it over.
The pew behind Timothy was reserved. Several cushions had been placed in the aisle corner of the pew. Ten minutes before the appointed hour there was a flurry of activity. A nurse appeared with a wheelchair, in which sat a tiny, bent figure with the biggest smile of anyone present. As the wheelchair progressed up the aisle, it was followed by Claudia and Fran. Nigel stayed at the back with his camera poised.
Timothy and Ben gently lifted Maria and placed her among the cushions. Maria had insisted that she wasn’t going to spend the whole time in the wheelchair. Claudia sat next to her and held her hand. Fran was next, and a space was reserved for Nigel who wanted to wait at the back and capture the moment of the bride’s arrival.
The organ struck the notes of the Wedding March. All heads turned to look. There stood Nicola, a vision of loveliness, her exquisite white dress ending in a small train that trailed behind her as she walked steadily up the aisle on the arm of her brother, her bridesmaids behind her. Timothy was clearly bursting with pride and happiness as he watched her approach. Nicola paused just before she reached him, and bending down, kissed Maria. Then she smiled at Claudia and Fran, before joining the man who would very soon be her husband. Timothy gazed at her, unable to take his eyes off her, and took her hand in a firm grip, as if he would never let her go.
‘Doesn’t she look amazing!’ whispered Maria to her sister.
‘And Timothy looks so handsome!’ responded Claudia.
‘What a wonderful couple they make! They look so happy!’ breathed Fran.
‘Anyone like a large hankie?’ enquired Nigel.
The vows were exchanged and
the ring was produced without mishap. There was some dabbing of eyes in the family pew, but they were tears of joy. The wedding had taken place, and Maria had been there. The bridal party moved off to the vestry for the signing of the register.
They had agreed, previously, that there would be no attempt to bring Maria forward at that point – it would have been too much for her. Timothy had worried that she would not last until the day – her illness was clearly marching inexorably onwards – and although she never complained, he knew that the pain was becoming hard to bear. He had discussed this with Nicola, and they had even tried to bring the ceremony forward a week, but changing the arrangements had proved impossible. Nicola had said she thought the will to live until the appointed day would carry Maria through, and she was proved right.
Claudia was glowing for more than one reason. It wasn’t just that the ceremony had been so moving. On the way to the church Fran and Nigel had imparted some news, and she longed for the chance to share it with Maria. But this was not the moment – nothing must detract from concentrating on Maria’s thrill of seeing her son marrying Nicola.
Someone gave a signal and the organ struck up once more, the triumphant notes of Widor’s Toccata resounding through the building. There stood the bride and groom, arm in arm, broad smiles on their faces, beginning their walk back down the aisle. All those present rose to their feet – except one. The bride and groom broke with tradition, stopping as soon as they reached the second pew. A great deal of hugging and embracing, and expressions of good wishes took place, mingled with not a few tears. At last the procession continued on its way.
In all the bustle and commotion, with the organ tones ringing in the rafters, only those close by saw Maria keel forward. Claudia grasped hold of her, and managed to prevent her from collapsing completely.
‘I’ll ring for an ambulance,’ said Fran.
Maria seemed to be unconscious, but then she opened her eyes. With great difficulty she said, ‘Tell them they must carry on – that is my wish. They must continue to be happy – that was what they promised me.’