What Maisie Did Next

by Katy Lilley

  Cam appeared shell shocked. He stared at her and then gave an infinitesimal nod. ‘I want to say it’s nothing to worry about, but that would be a lie. I do worry. Worry I could say I want the baby to be mine and then for some reason discover it isn’t and your ex is back in the picture.’

  Maisie snorted. ‘Less likely than Bristow United winning the Charity Shield, or being promoted to a proper football league, though I’ll deny I’ve ever said that. Ronnie Herron would never speak to me again, Look, listen and believe me, Stan will never be part of my or her life. A sperm does not make a father, love and advice does. Plus, according to my dad, a deep pocket and knowing when to shut up. Stan would do none of those, and his pocket would be zipped and locked. But I can see you need reassurance, and I have none to give. As I said, it’s all up to you.’

  ‘I know, and I don’t know. All I do know is I’m here for you if you want me.’ He stood up and headed for the door before he turned and walked back to her and held out his hand. ‘Could we start again do you think? As in hello, I’m Cameron Rickards, Cam to my friends, or Rik the Vic. I’m the vicar around here. How are you and how…’ he looked at her bump, ‘is your bump getting on?’

  Maisie’s heart sped up. She could be churlish and ignore the gesture but what was the point? She didn’t want to cut off her nose or whatever the saying was. ‘Bump is getting on fine, I’m fine, except I get tired easily. Only just over three months to go. Nice to meet you.’ What else could she say? ‘You’re welcome any time.’

  ‘Thank… Maisie, is that the baby moving?’ he asked in an awed voice.

  She looked down at her tummy which was swaying up and down as Wilma did what Maisie called her tea-time tango, even though it happened at all hours. ‘Yeah, Wilma’s wriggle time. Wanna touch?’

  Cam nodded, held his hand out, and touched her tummy, very gingerly. The baby lurched and he lifted it as if he’d been shot. ‘Ah…’

  Maisie laughed. ‘Don’t worry, that’s her foot having a practice at kicking a ball. I’ve got used to it, but I’ll never get used to how awesome this all is. The kids at school have started a logbook. Wilma’s life in the womb. Only a couple of parents have refused to let their kids be involved. We decided it was the best way to make it seem part of normal daily life.’ She swayed and yawned as tiredness hit her. Thank goodness there was another week before term started. Not for the first time she hoped she could keep going until half term. ‘Like feeling knackered is, but I just say it’s normal to be tired.’

  ‘Good idea. Maisie you need to go to bed before you fall down. How about I cook you early dinner tomorrow at the vicarage? It would be my pleasure.’

  ‘I’d like that.’

  He kissed her cheek, very decorously.

  Like I was a maiden aunt or something.

  ‘See you around five? Eat at six-ish?’

  Maisie nodded and saw him out. Once he’d gone, she leaned on the closed door deep in thought. He still hadn’t really said what he intended to do about any involvement with Wilma once she was born.

  Which could be a problem. She and Wilma would come as a double act or not at all.

  Only time would tell. Meanwhile she’d take each day as it came.

  Halfway through the night, she woke up sweating her heart pounding. The dream—nightmare—was oh so real. She couldn’t ask Cam to be involved. It would spoil his life. He’d be asked to leave or defrocked or something. He was a great vicar, the village needed him.

  More than me?

  Whether he was the father of Wilma or not, she had to tell him it was over. Faye Soole or whoever was up in arms about her or him could have a field day if they found out. She burst into tears. Barns crawled into the bed and snuggled up close.

  Maisie soaked his coat as she cried herself empty.

  She’d go to dinner and tell him.

  Halfway up the vicarage garden path, the security lights came on, and Cam opened the front door. Barns woofed and tugged at his lead. Maisie judged they were close enough to let him go and he sped off to jump up, so Cam caught him.

  ‘Urgh dog, liver breath. No, do not lick me all over, one kiss is enough.’ He held Barns at arm’s length. ‘He’s soon going to be too big and heavy to do this.’

  ‘He is already, but knows if he tries it with me, he’d banished to the dog bed in the kitchen.’

  ‘Enough to bring him whimpering to his knees. Let’s go in, you look cold.’

  ‘That’s the freezing look Faye Soole gave me as I crossed the green. Seriously, why does she still have her knickers in a twist and reserve most of her bile for me? I’ve not got anything to do with Dave and his dastardly doings.’

  It was definitely going to be the right thing to say it was over.

  ‘You do have what she hasn’t though,’ Cam said as he took her coat and hung it and Barns’ lead on the old-fashioned coat stand in the spacious hall. ‘Let’s go into the kitchen. Much the warmest room and the comfiest chairs.’

  ‘What have I got?’ Maisie asked as she headed in the direction of the kitchen. ‘Swollen feet, varicose veins and a big belly? A daft dog and a craving for pork scratchings and banana milkshake. At the same time? Can’t imagine she’d want any of that.’

  Cam laughed as he propelled her to the biggest armchair next to the Aga. ‘Sounds gruesome. No, not that. Contentment. A job, a purpose in life. Me.’

  ‘Do I? Have you?’

  He knelt down by the chair, his face serious. Barns wriggled between them and howled. Cam laughed and reached into his pocket for a handful of dog treats. ‘Here you go.’

  ‘You spoil him.’

  ‘Well, I’ve a horrible feeling you won’t let me spoil you, so it has to be the dog. You’ve got the ‘thou shall not come near me look on your face’. You’ve had a bad night and I’m not going to like what you have to say, am I?’

  That brought her up short. ‘Am I that transparent?’

  Cam nodded. ‘And the rest.’

  Ouch.

  Maisie cogitated for a moment. ‘I’m so mixed up it’s not true. Blast it.’

  Cam smiled. ‘You were all set to say it is over, weren’t you? Go on, be honest, I can see the signs. Not look me in the eye. Lots of lip biting, sighs and mutters. Pinkie rubbing, which I’ve noticed you do when you’re ready to fib. That bloody Faye Soole had a lot to answer for. Or her sleazy husband has. The bishop backs us, why can’t you?’

  ‘The Bishop?’

  ‘I’ve discussed things with him, I had to.’

  That brought her up short. Why wouldn’t she? ‘I suddenly realise I have no idea,’ she said honestly. ‘I thought I was doing you bad or whatever the current phrase is. Not helping your vocation, upsetting the applecart, doing you a disservice. Better off out of it.’

  ‘And what about you?’

  ‘Me?’ she asked in surprise. What was her reaction to do with it? Oh, she was pissed off by it all, but in the grand scheme of things it wasn’t really about her. ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘What is it doing to you? Be honest. This is me you’re talking to.’ Cam looked at her intently. ‘I can tell when you’re lying. Apart from the pinkie thing, and the rest, if it’s a big lie, you open your eyes wide, and blink a lot more.’

  She did? That was news. Maisie took a deep breath. ‘It’s upsetting me.’

  ‘Exactly, which is not good for you or Wilma, I’m sticking with that not Wilf. I’ve been told that I am me, and you are you. If you are a good person, why does anything else matter? I’m with that. Please,’ he beseeched. ‘For the love of anything you hold dear, don’t let horrible narrow-minded bigots split us up, I’ve had a good go at that already. It’s not the way to show wrongdoers the error of their ways. Never let the bullies win. I tried to, didn’t I? Do not emulate me.’

  Maisie had one of those light bulb moments that make you blink, think and mentally high five. He spoke sense. Why had she let so little affect her so much? It was her life, her and Wilma’s. If Cam wanted to be part of it in any way
at all, why shouldn’t he be?

  Scaredy cat.

  ‘You are so right. What a wally I’ve been. I’ve tried to fade into the background, a bit hard with Bump here.’

  ‘You’ve let yourself be brainwashed. Where’s the gorgeous nails? Bright hair? Take no prisoners attitude. Get it back.’

  She giggled. ‘I’m making that hair appointment ASAP. Blue and green streaks to go back in. Well for the school holidays anyway. They’re part of the person I am.’

  Cam kissed her cheek. ‘Good on you. I love you the way you are, not as you think you should be. Streaked hair doesn’t change the inner you.’ He lifted her up and sat down with her on his lap. ‘Blimey, you and Wilma aren’t half heavy.’

  ‘Bloody hell—oops sorry, but well…What do you expect? She’s got herself nice and comfy in there.’ Maisie put his hand on her tummy and counted to five. He didn’t move it but began to make soft stroking circles over the bump.

  ‘Streaks ‘R’ Me, eh?’ she said as she tried not to be too affected by his touch. ‘Will it be fine? Us, I mean. Even if I don’t come to church often and all that? The powers that be are okay?’

  ‘And all that,’ Cam confirmed. ‘As long as you and I are happy, what else matters? I sat down last night and had a long think. Why does it matter if I’m Wilma’s natural dad when I’ve got a chance to be her real dad? What did I really want, you and Wilma or no you and no Wilma? It was a no brainer. I want and love you both and to be part of your lives. If you let me. and no.’ He put his hand over her mouth. ‘Before you say, this is a bit sudden, no it is not. I’ve known how I felt for ages but being a stubborn bugger wasn’t going to give in. If we’re being honest, I was upset you didn’t tell me as soon as you knew. I felt…side-lined, I guess. As if I didn’t matter. And I don’t mean how you crept out after that amazing night, I understood that. I meant when we met up here and it was obvious the spark was still there and ready to be a bloody great flame, if only we would let it.’

  ‘And I went on the defensive. Decided as you were the vicar and not being full of Christian charity towards me, that was it, sod you.’ She hugged him. ‘I don’t feel like that now. Seriously though, can we make it work? Really?’

  ‘I see no reason why not. As long as what we do doesn’t interfere with either of our work time, and no, before you butt in, making love, living together, us as a family or whatever does not. Plus, who knows what might happen one day? Neither of us are divorced or involved with anyone else…unless you count Barns. We love each other…’ He stared at her. ‘Don’t we?”

  ‘Hmm.’ Maisie put her head to one side and mimed thinking.

  Cam burst out laughing. ‘Witch.’

  ‘We do, and as for one day?’ Maisie couldn’t help it, she put her finger to her lips in a parody of someone deep in thought. ‘Pigs might fly?’

  He grinned. ‘They might. But first, if we’re happy we need to sort everyone else out. We’ll build the bridge and let them get over it.’

  He paused. ‘Are we happy?’

  The worried expression that flitted across his face hurt her. She’d put that there. ‘I think so. No, I know so. Therefore,’ she mimed a drum roll. ‘Drr, durrmmm, druuummmm. What next?’

  Cam stood up, hugged her and swung her around in a circle, or rather staggered around a bit.

  ‘You nit,’ Maisie sniggered. ‘I’ll fall over when you put me down.’ She never had enjoyed being spun around. Perhaps that was why she had no aptitude for any sort of dancing? All that spinning and twirling.

  ‘I’ll pick you up. I will always be there for you,’ Cam said in a serious voice. ‘If you believe anything, believe that. We say bugger the negative and go for the positive.’

  ‘Can we? Can we really?’ Maisie hoped so but…there was that damned word again. ‘Can you say, hand on heart that whether we stay together or not, it won’t have any negative impact on you.’

  Cam scowled. ‘Of course it will have a negative impact on me if we split up. I want you and our baby. Our baby,’ he stressed. ‘She is mine whatever the DNA says. Which I do not need tested. If you and Wilma leave, I will be gutted. Devastated. Shattered. Overwhelmed. Traumatised. De...’

  ‘Okay, I get it,’ Maisie said hastily before Cam used up every word he could think of. ‘But I meant on you as a vicar not you as…’

  ‘Your lover?’ Cam added. ‘No, it won’t. I have no way of getting you to believe me, but I hope you do. The positive is us. However, we want us and yes, the boss man,’ he gestured upwards, ‘both him and the bish know about Wilma. I told him his opinion would make no difference to us, just to whether I continued as a vicar. The bishop is on our side, but I can’t really ask him to write it out in blood, or even ink. Okay?’

  She laughed somewhat shame faced. ‘Okay, and I’m so sorry. I do love you, and I really want to be with you, but I’m wary. So many people seem to go for the negative not the positive and it both annoys me and worries me in equal measures. I mean life is complicated enough for us without people sticking their oars in.’

  Cam nodded. ‘So, we ignore what we can’t change and change what we can. And well, just be us, eh?’

  Maisie hugged him. Barns yipped happily and did his best to get between them again. Maisie glance down, shook her head and held onto Cam even harder. ‘Mine, Barns.’

  Cam laughed. ‘Have to get used to it Barns. Gonna be a lot of hugs and kisses around here.’

  Barns scratched his ear, yawned and wandered off to his bed. Maisie watched then looked up at Cam. ‘Now he’ll sulk.’

  ‘Nah, not when I get his bone out. Greed will overcome sulks any day. I’ve got a request to make now.’

  That sounded alarming. Maisie took a deep breath. ‘Go on, hit me with it. Gently though. I’ve had enough hard hits to make me sway.’

  ‘Can I be your birth partner? Do the suck on the ice, hold my hand, scream, pant do not push, wow you are doing so well, no I don’t mind you’ve broken every bone in my hand, yes okay I am a stupid man who only thinks with his gonads, agree with everything you say person.’

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘Where did you learn all that?

  He grinned, shamefaced. ‘I got a book.’

  Epilogue

  ‘We need to go now.’ Maisie shook Cam ruthlessly. ‘As in this minute now.’

  ‘Eh?’ He sat upright rolled over and yelped as he banged his elbow on the bedside table. ‘As in this minute now, now?’

  ‘Yep as in if we don’t, you’ll be midwife. I seem to have gone from a weirdly not very sore niggle to full blown, want to push labour and shit, Cam…” She grabbed his hand and squeezed hard enough to break a bone. ‘I think you might need to ring the ambulance because… argh…’

  He took one look at her face and blanched. ‘Do not move.’

  ‘I can’t.’ She was too busy trying not to scream.

  Who decided having babies was a woman’s job? It had to be a man.

  Five sweaty, pain filled hours later, Maisie sat up in her maternity room bed and grinned at Cam who held Wilma in his arms. ‘Do you think we should call her Easter?’ She had a sudden thought. ‘Shit, services. Who’s taking them?’

  ‘Stop worrying, it’s all sorted. There’s a standby who was all primed and ready. John Sanderby, retired and happy to take services at short notice. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to take evensong, and tell everyone our glad news. Wilma Bryony Rickards - not Easter - five pounds two ounces—don’t ask me to convert it to grams or whatever, nineteen inches long, conversion ditto and gorgeous. A wee bit early but not much. Mum and baby doing well, Dad shell shocked and trying to get the feeling back in his hand.’

  Maisie laughed. ‘Go for it.’ She loved hearing him call himself Dad. She’d offered a DNA test and he’d said not to bother. Whether it was because he didn’t want to know he wasn’t Wilma’s father, Maisie had no idea. As Cam had said he was her dad. End of.

  She’d moved into the vicarage the day she went on maternity leave and to her astonishment
nothing was said. Not even from Faye who merely glowered. Every time they met, Maisie smiled sweetly and said, ‘hello how are you?’. She was not going to give Faye any cause for complaint.

  The school had given her a Moses basket as a present. ‘Very apt,’ Cam observed as they put it in the room chosen for the Nursery. ‘Shall I buy some bulrushes?’

  Maisie thumped him, and the next day he came in with a fantastic sketch of bulrushes drawn by Lottie. Thinking of that made Maisie wonder how Lottie was getting on. Five minutes earlier Cam had received a text saying she was in labour…Gibb thought. Lottie said it was indigestion from eating too many jelly babies. Gibb was erring on the side of caution and was urging her to head to hospital. She was all of three days overdue.

  ‘I got you an Easter present,’ Cam said, bringing Maisie’s mind back to there and then. ‘I didn’t realise it would be a birth present as well.’ He handed Wilma back and fumbled in his pocket. ‘It’s a one day when you’re ready present.’

  To her astonishment he produced a little box and got down on one knee. ‘One day, Maisie MacLean, will you and Wilma marry me? Take my name? Be my wife and daughter. I love you both.’ He paused and she saw the worry and hope that vied to be uppermost in his eyes.’ When you’re ready.’

  ‘We’re ready now.’

  The End

  Acknowledgments

  As it's the final one of my Devon Trilogy, it's going to feel strange not writing about the Bristow villages anymore (although never say never) But onwards and upwards and maybe we can come back one day to see what everyone is up to.

  I have to say a big thank you to the lovely Lisa Hall who copes with my worries and niggles and makes me able to turn rough ideas into a (hopefully) great story.