Chapter Thirty-Three
A few days later, Fran arrived home from Mr Barleyfield’s bookshop in Beverley, where she was helping him out temporarily, mostly when he went to book fairs and with cataloguing his new stock. She was surprised to find Tina in the kitchen perusing a cookery book. Julie was on the rug at Tina’s feet, playing happily, cooing, with her arms and legs waving in all directions.
Tina looked up at Fran, saying, ‘Thought I’d cook tonight, if it’s alright with you?’
Fran shrugged, replying, absently, ‘Yes.’ Then, as if a switched had been flicked on, she felt a spark within her ignited. ‘You’re not going out?’
‘No, thought we’d have a family night in. There’s something I want to run past you.’ Tina paused slightly. ‘And something I need to tell you.’ She lowered her eyes, studying a recipe.
Fran experienced a sinking feeling. Her blood ran icy cold and the light within her extinguished. What could it be? Surely not? Hastily, she glanced about, seeking any diversion.
Julie, tired of playing on her own, whimpered, so Fran dropped to her knees to play with her. To feel the infant’s warmth and hear her laughter and gurgling lightened Fran’s heart and she caught Julie’s infectious laugh. It was into this scene that the three men came in from their walk.
Will, his legs aching with the unaccustomed exercise, made straight for the comfort of his arm chair. ‘Hello, darling,’ said Nick.
Fran looked up, acknowledging Nick, and glanced towards Michael, but he didn’t meet her gaze. He went over to Tina, looking over her shoulder. ‘What are you doing, Sis?’
‘I’m deciding what to cook and thought we might have a try tonight.’
‘I’m not much of a cook – billy tea and damper, that’s my lot.’
‘That doesn’t sound appetising.’
Michael grinned. ‘Not to be recommended.’
Fran listened to the banter between brother and sister, and she felt sad. Here she was, in the same room as both her children and yet she couldn’t communicate properly with them. Since Michael’s arrival, she felt that her relationship with Tina had deteriorated. It seemed forced, not natural and everything seemed unreal. Was Tina preparing to tell her that she would be going back with Michael to Australia? Fran’s heart lurched at the thought. She couldn’t bear to lose her daughter and granddaughter as well as her son. She was just about to blurt out her jumbled thoughts, and to hell with the consequences, when she caught Nick’s eye. His look said it all. He had read her mind. She bit on her tongue.
Later in the afternoon, while brother and sister argued over what to cook for the evening meal, Fran took Julie out for a walk. She was thankful for the support of the pram.
At last, the evening came. A cold wind had whipped up, coming east across the river, making it unsuitable for eating outside, as the siblings first planned. Fran, after a relaxing bath, came downstairs into the kitchen and glanced with admiration at the table. It was in a festive mood with yellow serviettes and place mats, and the centre piece was a vase of golden and bronze dahlias. Nick and Will were already seated at the table, and she sat next to Nick.
She watched a flush-faced Tina place a dish of sweet and sour chicken accompanied by stir-fry vegetables on the table, and Mike placed a bowl of steaming rice. ‘It looks and smells delicious,’ commented Fran.
Will eyed it suspiciously. ‘Will I like it?’
‘Sure thing, Grandad,’ Michael enthused, as he poured out the beer.
They all tucked in and Will’s face turned from uncertainty to mild appreciation. The conversation seemed to flow as freely as the beer. Only Fran found it difficult. She ate very little and perhaps drank too much. Every now and then she stole glances at Tina and Michael, looking for a clue as to what was going to be said.
Eventually, the meal was over and Tina produced a bottle. ‘It’s only bubbly.’ She gave a mischievous giggle. ‘But, I thought, why not?’ Glasses were filled and Fran sat on the edge of her seat, her insides in turmoil. Tina cleared her throat. ‘Two things I want to talk about, well, three actually. First, I want to thank everyone for their support after Joe’s death, especially Fran.’ Their eyes met and a lump rose in Fran’s throat as she fought back the threatening tears. ‘To Fran.’ They all raised their glasses and drank a toast.
Tina was in her element, so full of confidence, helped by the bubbly. ‘Secondly, Julie’s christening. That was Joe’s wish.’ Her eyes misted, but she continued, ‘I’d like her to be baptised at Saint Peter’s in Stillingham.’ She glanced at Fran, her gaze lingering. ‘I’ll need your help.’ Fran nodded, not trusting herself to speak. ‘Thanks. I’d liked my friend Reverend Fairweather to conduct the service. For godparents, Mike’s going to be one, I’m going to ask Joe’s sister, Maureen, and I’d like you to be one too, Fran.’
Astonished, Fran replied, ‘Me?’
‘Yes, you.’
‘I’d be delighted.’ And she was, richly so.
‘Reverend Fairweather is ever so kind. He’s going to host the christening tea in the vicarage. He said his housekeeper would arrange everything. He’s a wonderful friend to me,’ Tina exclaimed, her voice full of pride. ‘Now, for my third thing. I’ve got Mike to thank for this.’
Fran felt her body burn up. She looked at Tina, but the heat blurred her vision and she couldn’t see her daughter’s face. Oh my God, don’t let me faint. She held on tightly to the seat of the chair. This was what she was dreading. Tina was going to Australia. I’m to lose my daughter as well as my son. The room rolled and buzzed. From a great distance came Tina’s voice.
‘Next year, I’m going to enrol at college on an interior design course.’
Fran slumped from her chair and was caught by Nick just in time to prevent her from hitting her head on the corner of the table.
She recovered after a sipping a glass of cold water. ‘The heat,’ she murmured, making a mental note to see the doctor. She must keep strong for her daughter. ‘I’m sorry, Tina, for interrupting your wonderful news.’
For a while, they sat round the table, discussing the christening plans and then they retired to bed, and Fran slept well in the knowledge that her daughter was staying close by.
One morning, a couple of days later, when only Fran and Michael were in the kitchen, Michael suddenly asked, ‘What should I buy Julie for a christening gift?’
Fran was taken aback because their previous conversation had been limited to monosyllables: yes, no, please, thank you and such like. She quickly recovered her equilibrium and answered, ‘How about a keepsake to commemorate the occasion? There are jewellers in town that will have a good selection of gifts.’ She smiled at her son, her heart lifting.
He didn’t return her smile. He just said, ‘Thanks. I’ll give it a try.’ Then he was gone.
Fran would have suggested that she went with him, but … So she busied herself with the mundane task of ironing, though it did nothing to alleviate her frustration or the deep ache within her. She wanted to talk to him about whether he’d decided to return to Australia to continue with his studies in the wine industry. She knew he’d spoken with John on the telephone and told Tina what was discussed. Fran felt very sad. From Michael’s point of view, she could see how he had felt let down by her, his natural mother. She could have prevented it, but she didn’t, and now she was paying the penalty. How on earth did she think that she could just walk into his life and be accepted by him? It was a devastating situation for her but, for Michael, it must be much harder. How to make things right? Over and over in her mind, the problem twisted and turned, but she couldn’t come up with a suitable answer. What she did know was that she loved Michael and his happiness was paramount to her, and, if that meant him going back to Australia, so be it. Her heart ached at the thought that she might not see him again.
Whatever happened, she must be grateful and comforted for having Tina and Julie close by.
Chapter Thirty-Four
On a golden-bronze autumn day in October, th
ey gathered round the font in Saint Peter’s church, the bright sunlight of the afternoon illuminating the happy faces of the baptism party: Joe’s sister, Maureen, and father, and Nancy and Cyril, Will next to Michael, and Tina by his side. Fran held close the sleeping Julie, drawing warmth from the child’s body and comfort from Nick’s arm around her waist. The Reverend Fairweather beamed upon them all.
Suddenly, Fran turned, instinctively feeling Michael looking at her. She reached out to him and placed his sister’s child into his outstretched arms. Joy filled his face and, for the first time since he had returned, he looked Fran fully in the face and smiled. His eyes, warm and tender, held hers for a few seconds, enough to give her hope. Fran knew then, but wasn’t sure when, the past could be resolved and they would have a future as mother and son.
Nick tightened his arm around her waist and she glanced up at him, her heart filled with love. Soon his arm wouldn’t go so far around her waist as it expanded. She placed her hand on the gentle swell of her stomach and marvelled at the tiny life growing within her.
That evening in bed, she whispered to Nick, ‘I’ve a secret to tell you.’
Nick, who was almost asleep, opened one eye and looked at her, murmuring, ‘I don’t want to know what you’ve bought me for my birthday.’
‘It’s something more precious than that.’ Now she held his full attention.
Taking hold of one of his hands she placed it on the gentle curve of her naked belly. ‘What can you feel?’ she whispered, her eyes shining with love.
His eyes widened and he stuttered, ‘Something fluttering.’ He lifted up his hand, looked at it then replaced. ‘There again,’ he cried with excitement.
‘It’s our precious baby.’ Her voice broke with the emotion of pure happiness.
Nick gathered her into her arms, his voice husky with love and wonderment. ‘My darling, it will be all right.’
‘I know,’ she cried. ‘I’m so happy. I never thought I would become pregnant again. I’ve seen the doctor and he said I’m fine and healthy. You are pleased?’ She lifted up her joy filled face.
‘Completely.’ He kissed her passionately and they clung to each other.
She thought he was asleep until he spoke. ‘You do know I’m an old-fashioned man?’ He startled her by leaping from the bed and kneeling by its side. Before she had a chance to speak, he said, ‘Fran, will you marry me?’
Overwhelmed, she was stunned for a few seconds, then, with a voice quivering with fervour, she replied, ‘Oh, Nick, my darling, yes I will.’ She slid from the bed and into his outstretched arms.
Back in bed they talked, sleep impossible. ‘When shall we marry?’ she asked.
‘As soon as possible. Before the old year is out.’
‘As quickly as that?’
‘Yes, my darling, I don’t want to lose you.’ She cuddled closer to him.
The next morning, while Fran was feeling overjoyed at being pregnant and the forthcoming wedding, she wondered how Tina and Michael would take the news. What would Michael say?
‘Are yer going to stand there all day with that pot? I’m waiting for me cuppa,’ Will grunted.
Fran mentally shook herself and began pouring the tea. Since Michael was here, Will had taken to sitting at the table for his breakfast. Nick put a plateful of toast on the table. Michael yawned and stretched. Tina was busy feeding Julie. Suddenly, Fran couldn’t hold back any longer. Her whole body was tight and rigid with tension. The clanging of her cup as it hit the edge of the saucer caused them all to look at her. She caught Nick’s eye and he nodded.
She cleared her throat. ‘We, Nick and I, have something to tell you all. Well, two things.’
No one spoke, they just stared. She floundered. Nick was by her side, taking hold of her hand.
His voice was quiet and strong. ‘Fran and I are expecting a baby.’
No one spoke. Tina broke the silence. ‘Blimey, I’m gonna have a brother or sister.’ She jumped up and flung her arms about Fran and Nick, kissing them both.
Will exclaimed, ‘Another grandbairn. Just wait until I tell, Larry. I’ve beaten him now.’
Michael said nothing.
‘You said two things,’ said a happy Tina.
Nick smiled at her. ‘Yes, Fran and I are to be married.’
Tina screwed up her face in concentration, then blurted, ‘Will you be my dad?’
Nick laughed. ‘Stepdad.’
Fran looked at Michael. He didn’t speak. She took a deep breath, quelling her racing heartbeat, and then she spoke to him. ‘Michael, we wanted to tell you all together, as a family. There are to be no more misunderstandings, no secrets. What do you think about our news?’
As she spoke, his colour drained away. Her instinct told her to take him into her arms, to comfort him. But, her hands seemed incapable of moving and remained by her side.
His voice was a whisper and she had to strain to hear him. ‘I can’t get my head round it. Sorry.’ He lumbered up from the table, the screech of his chair grating the stifled air of the room. Then he fled. But not before Fran witnessed the tears in his eyes.
She made to go after him, but Nick caught hold of her arm. ‘Not now, love.’
It was later that afternoon and Michael had been missing all day. Tina, taking Julie with her, had set off to find her brother. Nick was busy working with Rufus and Will had taken a taxi to see his friend Larry to tell him about his expected grandchild. Fran, in an attempt to clear the turmoil raging within her, went for a walk. She breathed in the smell of the sharp, autumnal air, felt the play of the wind round her cheeks. For the umpteenth time, she wondered where Michael was and what was he doing or thinking.
She slipped through the gate onto the riverbank and stood looking towards Beverley. The glorious flaming colours of red, orange and yellow of the sun setting over the Minster towers dazzled her for a few seconds. A magnificent sight. But even that couldn’t blot out thoughts of Michael or of the mistakes she had made with his life and her life. If only …
‘Fran.’
At the sound of his voice her head swam, her heartbeat pounded and her whole body trembled. Slowly, she half turned to look at this tall, handsome young man to whom she had given birth. But would he ever be her true son? ‘Michael,’ she acknowledged, her emotion rising higher.
He came to her side. ‘Can you forgive me for being such a pain?’ His wide blue eyes looked earnestly into hers.
She caught her breath and instinctively reached out and touched his arm, and, for the first time, he didn’t recoil from her. Finding strength, she said, ‘Of course I can. I’m truly sorry for all the hurt I’ve caused you. It must have been a terrible shock for you to find out that I am your birth mother. You’ve had so much to take in such a short time.’
‘Sure, but I’m not a kid. Tina’s coping and she’s had a tougher life than me.’
Thinking of when she’d held him as a baby in her arms, Fran said, ‘I have a most precious photograph of you, taken when you were only a few days old and one of Tina too. I’ll show them to you back at the house.’
He gazed at her. ‘So, you are really my mother?’
‘Yes.’ Her voice was clear and firm, though her body trembled.
‘When I’ve done studying, I’m coming back to see you. There’s something else,’ he blurted.
Alarm must have registered on her face because he laughed. ‘It’s nothing bad, it’s just that Grandad wants to come back with me for a visit, but he doesn’t want to upset you.’
‘Dad wants to go with you. That’s wonderful news.’
‘You don’t mind?’
‘Of course not. It will do Dad the world of good.’ She couldn’t bring herself to mention him seeing Isabel, not wanting to speak her name and break the spell.
‘Michael,’ she held out her arms and he came to her, and she hugged him lovingly, breathing in his wonderful scent. Tears of joy ran down her face as she, his birth mother, held her son close.
‘Cooee,’ a v
oice called.
Michael said, as they drew apart, ‘That’ll be Nancy. She’s come to baby-sit. Tina and I, we’ve booked a table at the new Chinese restaurant for a celebration meal. It’s for you and Nick.’ He finished, almost breathless. He cast an anxious look at Fran who hadn’t spoken a word. ‘Is it okay?’
She found her voice, though it was little more than a whisper. ‘You’ve done this for me and Nick?’ She clasped her hands together as if in prayer. ‘Oh, Michael!’ Her heart overflowed with love. ‘Thank you.’ She wanted to say more, but words jumbled up inside of her and she didn’t want them to come out all wrong. The wind suddenly whipped along the bank and she shivered.
‘It’s cold, come on,’ Michael said. And mother and son linked arms.
Inside the kitchen, the glow of the fire greeted Fran and Michael, but the warmth and love radiating from the people within was increased a thousand times with pure happiness.
Will was bouncing a gleeful Julie on his knee. Tina, her face shining with pleasure, flung her arms around Fran and Michael, hugging them. ‘It’s wonderful! We are a real family now.’
‘Sure thing, Sis,’ Michael agreed.
That evening the celebration was swinging as corks popped and the waiters poured champagne into tall fluted glasses. Nick caught Fran’s eye and winked at her. Her hand slid into his and she felt his quiet strength, his love. She looked across at Tina and Michael, seated on either side of Will, and smiled at them and they all returned her smile. She remembered part of a quote from her school days: and my cup runneth over.
Everyone held a glass. Nick cleared his throat. ‘First, I want to give my own toast to Fran. I fell in love with her the first time I met her on the train to Beverley. When she kicked me.’
‘Nick!’ she gasped. ‘You never said anything.’
Fran and Nick were married by special licence at the registery office. Nancy and Helga catered for the buffet held at High Bank House and Tina made Fran’s bouquet of creamy apricot roses to match her dress of apricot silk. Everyone else had buttonholes of deeper apricot. The wedding was a lovely, family occasion, something Fran had never dreamt of – to marry the man she loved and having her son and her daughter by her side to make her happiness complete.
The Yearning Heart Page 26