by Lexie James
Giving Christos a meaningful glance, he took a sip of his drink before he replied. “Well now Michael, that sounds like an eminently good idea. Chris and I had been talking about what to do, and we were just about to go and look at what fireworks we’ve got, then plan the display. The more brains we have to design it, the better the display will be.”
Patrick glanced at Emme, who he was aware, had gone very still. Frantically she was trying to think of a reason to veto that idea; she had never felt more out of sorts with her father. Was he really so thick skinned that he couldn’t pick up on the atmosphere emanating around herself and Christos? And putting Michael and Chrissie in close proximity with him was definitely fraught with danger, heaven forbid that he might actually work out that they were his children.
She glared under her lashes, first at her father, and then at Christos, her father grinned with glee at her. But Christos; her heart gave a sudden flip as she realised he was smiling tenderly at her. How dare he do that after everything he’d done before and said everything he had said last night! She was furious that she couldn’t tell him what a louse she thought he was, because the children were there. Damn him!
She almost snorted with contempt, but then she lifted her chin resolutely, whatever he was up to, he wouldn’t fool her! She was about to launch into a scathing speech when Morag came up to them, breathless from running from the house.
“Emme, I’m so sorry but we’re in trouble. Mrs Baines has just now had a phone call from her daughter; she’s gone into labour too early, so Mrs Baines has had to go to her. We’d only just started icing the cakes and she always tells me what to do. I couldn’t plan something artistic even if I was following a paint by numbers set. And you know, as far she is concerned, no-one can make a scone like her, and sure, doesn’t she always leave them till the last minute so they are good and warm from the oven. Now we’ve got no iced cakes and no scones, and I’m that bemused I don’t know which way to turn. So I was thinking its best as you leave the outside to thems as knows what to do, and you come away with me into the kitchen, and together we’ll find a way to sort it out.”
Emme gaped at Morag as it flashed through her mind that she’d be stuck in the kitchen for ages, and while she was there she’d have no way of keeping Christos and the children apart. What was she to do? She glanced at her father but he was studiously ignoring her. She knew she had no choice; it fell to her to sort out this problem.
And for the rest? Well she’d just to have to trust to the Gods to find a solution for what seemed, to her, an impossible situation.
Standing resolutely she turned to Chrissie, “Will you run over to Sophia, explain what has happened, and ask her if she will come and help me. Then you can stay there and help her friend run the stall.”
Emme stopped, appalled, realising what that meant, Sophia’s friend was Christos’s mother, which meant she was Chrissie’s Grandmother. Nope, no way, was she letting that happen, this was all getting just too ridiculously complicated she fumed. How can I possibly prevent this day from becoming an absolute total disaster.
“No, on second thoughts, you come as well and help me decorate the cakes, you’ll enjoy that. Quickly now, go and get Sophia, and I’ll see you both in the kitchen.”
Christos stood up while she was finishing her sentence. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t Michael and I go with Chrissie? Then we can stay on the stall while she and Sophia help you. Is that all right with you Patrick? Then Michael, Chrissie and I can come and help with the firework display once this little crisis is over.”
Emme stared at him, her eyes both perplexed and angry in equal measure, she couldn’t understand what he was up to. Last night’s behaviour had just confirmed in her mind what a bastard he was and yet today she kept seeing the boy she had once known and fallen in love with. She didn’t, couldn’t trust him, not after everything that he had done and said, how dare he try to be kind and helpful. And what on earth did he think he was doing being so chummy with her father and her children? Panic speared through her as she suddenly thought he might know, and then common sense took over, no she was still totally sure he was too stupid to recognise his own children. She still felt like hitting him; he might at least have given her five whole minutes to make- believe she could cope.
She turned and followed Morag.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Christos walked along beside his children with a feeling that suddenly, everything was all right with the world. He even found it amusing to listen to the children quarrelling over who had the best firework plan.
He stood back and let the children explain Emme’s problem to Sophia. What surprised him most was his mother, who insisted on going to help in the kitchen. He watched her leading Chrissie away with a bemused look on his face, he wasn’t sure she even knew where the kitchen was in her own home. The thought of her getting her manicured hands dirty with real work, well really, he couldn’t even begin to contemplate how she would cope with that.
Then a worrying thought crossed his mind and he spun round to watch them walking away. He knew his mother knew about Emme, because Adrienne had told him she did, but the children? Did she know about them? No impossible, how could she possibly know about them, when he had only just worked it out for himself that he was their father.
For some reason, best only known to herself, she had decided to break the habit of a lifetime, and do something useful. He could only hope that it would actually be helpful, and not be something that would upset Emme.
His eyes bored into his mother’s back, upset Emme at your peril they seemed to be saying.
Chrissie skipped along beside Sophia and Maria. “I’ll just run in and let Mum know you are on your way, stop her worrying.”
Maria sighed deeply as she ran off, Sophia glanced at her with concern. “What’s the matter?”
“Do you think she will mind? Me coming to help, I don’t want to upset her, not after what he’s done.”
Sophia deliberated. “I’m not sure. She seems to have kept herself to herself this morning just getting on. Patrick seems to have spent the whole time trying to push them together but I don’t think he’s helped the situation, I saw Christos sitting with them at lunch and I thought the atmosphere appeared tense.”
Maria caught her arm. “I want to help them. Don’t look at me like that Sophia. I want to help, not interfere, I do know the difference!”
By now they had reached the kitchen, quietly Sophia said. “I hope you do Maria.”
Emme was up to her elbows in scone mixture when she saw them. Sophia looked slightly sheepish as Maria followed her in across the kitchen, her eyes pleading with Emme to accept the help that was being offered.
“Maria thought she would probably be more use in here, rather than outside.”
Emme stared at Sophia for a moment, and then decided that any help was more important than anything else.
“Thank you for coming to.” She almost smiled at Maria. “Mrs Baines had prepared the icings and Morag has got out the decorations for the cakes. We normally sell the small cakes on the cake stall and use the larger ones to be served as an alternative to the scones. I’m not sure we’ll get it done in time, Mrs Baines is so quick at what she does.”
Maria cast a professional eye over the situation, Sophia waited for her orders. It might have been years since they had worked in situations like this, but she knew Maria would still be able to rise to the challenge.
“Sophia, if you could please begin by slicing and filling the large cakes, use the butter icing and mix and match with some of the jams that will work best. Morag could you then ice them with glace icing? While you do that, I’ll get on with the little cakes, Chrissie, have you been taught how to use an icing bag?”
“No, I’ve only been allowed to put the decorations on top of the icing before now, Mrs Baines said I had to wait till I was older; I don’t see why.” She huffed.
Maria smiled at her. “Nor do I, I was so little when I started helping in our ba
kery, that my father had to made me a tiny icing bag so that I was able to squeeze it, I could decorate only one cake at a time but I was so proud of my achievements. Now come and watch me, I’ll show you how to do the little twist to finish it off.”
Chrissie stood, watching carefully as Maria demonstrated then, very seriously, she took the icing bag from her, and began. Maria watched her as she began slowly to ice her first cake. Her heart bursting with love, Maria lifted her eyes, and saw Emme, looking at her with consternation on her face.
Oh my God, Emme thought, what have I done? I’ve stopped them from knowing her, and allowing them to share their lives with her. What sort of a mother am I? And I’ve let this all happen because her rotten son broke my heart. Had it been the right thing to do? Since that awful confrontation last night with Christos, followed by a sleepless night as she went over every speech dissecting it, then watching him run all around this morning at her father’s bidding, she found she was becoming more and more confused.
She couldn’t be sure anymore if she had made the right choices, suppose she had got it all wrong, suppose he had in fact, loved her? But then again, if he had loved her, he wouldn’t have betrayed her in that way would he? No, no matter what he might try to do now to make up for it, she could never, ever trust him again.
Her heart banged painfully against her chest as she struggled not to cry.
Maria seemed to sense her anguish, she glanced down again at Chrissie’s head bowed in concentration, and then she looked up and mouthed silently to Emme ‘thank you.’ It was more than Emme could stand, and she bowed her head, as silent tears began to course down her cheeks. She was aware of a body standing close to her, enfolding her in a hug of warmth and understanding, and she was transported back in time, to when her mother comforted her as a child.
The feeling of loss and sadness became worse and worse.
Quietly whispering, so that Chrissie’s didn’t hear, Maria told her. “I’m so sorry for what my son did to you, he is a prize idiot, and it is going to give me the greatest pleasure in the world to tell him so. But when he saw you come into the room last night, there was so much love in his face. How he could have been so ridiculously blind that he did not recognise his own children I will never know. That’s men for you, absolute imbeciles when it comes to the important things in life. He was angry because he was hurting, and now, now he realises his mistake. You will need to make him work long and hard at his apology.”
Emme pulled back from her Maria’s arms consternation in her eyes. “He knows? Now? He knows that they are his children?”
Maria nodded.
“Oh my God!” Emme sagged against the table. “What do I do now?”
“Well,” Maria smiled at her kindly. “To begin with we deal with this situation. Now let’s dry your tears or you will ruin the scones, too much salt you know. Then we will get on because I believe we are on a tight schedule. For the rest, that’s up to you.”
Emme stared at Maria, unable to speak, she saw, as she looked into her eyes, not condemnation, but understanding and compassion and something infinitely warmer, warm enough to begin to melt the ice that had enclosed her heart for all these years.
Maria wiped her tears away and kissed her on both cheeks.
Chrissie, meanwhile, had been concentrating so hard on her tasks that she had only just realised that Maria was not beside her. Looking up, she frowned as she saw her mother looking upset. She began to move towards her but Emme stopped her with a smile.
“It’s okay, honey you know what I’m like during this weekend, now, on top of everything else, I’m worried about Becky, and if Mrs Baines will be able to come back.” Chrissie began to look worried too.
“Chrissie will you stop it, it’s just that with Becky being on her own, Mrs Baines will stay with her for a few weeks after the birth. We will have to sort out some cover in the kitchen for her.”
Chrissie sniffed. “Can anyone trust boys? I know I’m never going to.” She turned to Maria. “Becky’s boyfriend disappeared as soon as he knew she was pregnant again. Mum thinks that I’m too young to understand about that, but I’m not, and I do. Do you know, my dad was even worse than that? He didn’t even wait around to know that Mum was pregnant; I mean how awful was that? Don’t look at me like that Mum, I’m not a child anymore, and I do understand how babies get made.”
She looked over at the adults with a condescending I am a grownup look, and continued.
“I don’t think I’m going to have anything to do with boys when I grow up. I think perhaps I’ll be a lesbian instead, we’ve been learning all about them at school. Susie and I think it sounds much more fun than going out with boys. I mean boys like football and getting muddy, they smell because they don’t wash enough, and they have smelly farts.”
Smiling serenely she returned to the job in hand, and continued to ice her next cake, oblivious to the atmosphere that had developed in the kitchen, and the looks that were passing between the three women.
Emme was mortified that Maria had been subjected to her daughter’s comments, however true they might be. Sophia, meanwhile, thought it was probably a good idea for Maria to know what Christos was up against.
Maria, however, was solely focussed on Chrissie’s comments about lesbian relationships.
Trying to sound casually interested, without betraying the laughter bubbling below the surface, she engaged Chrissie in conversation. “I can see how grown up you are, and I suppose from where you are looking at it, that that might seem like a sensible option.”
Maria heard Emme’s sharp intake of breathe and ignoring it she continued.
“But you know Chrissie I don’t think you‘ve had time to learn much about love yet. Even though you don’t think you are; you really are rather too young to appreciate that the love between a boy and a girl is very different from the love you feel for your mother or your friend. In truth it’s like a rollercoaster ride that rushes you along while your insides hurt, you feel sick, you can’t sleep, and you can’t concentrate on anything. You wait with trepidation, for the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand, and you die a little, just waiting for the moment to come, when you can touch his heart.”
Maria paused stricken at how carried away she had become.
“Wow!” Chrissie gasped. “You make it sound well; actually you make it sound a bit scary. And what about, you know the other bits, the messy bits?” She looked embarrassed. “We’ve had a lesson about the sex thing, isn’t it all a bit you know, yucky?”
“Chrissie!” Emme was torn between embarrassment and amusement in equal measure.
Maria smiled gently at her. “My darling girl, I am Italian, to us amore is the most wonderful thing in the world. Without it the world is a sadder place, even if you have your heart broken, it is better than never having loved at all. Believe me, my child. Sometimes though, lovers are afraid of saying what they really feel and they make mistakes that can be very hard to rectify; it takes a lot of courage to face mistakes. Is that not so?”
Maria’s eyes were on Emme, waiting for her response.
Emme stared at her, thinking back, and wondering if she had made the most gigantean mistake in the history of all mistakes.
“Possibly.” She smiled faintly.
Maria had to be content with that.
Sophia interrupted, torn between wanting Maria and Emme to reach an understanding, but aware how upset Emme would be, if they didn’t get everything done in time.
“Well I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m pretty sure the scones need to be in the oven now, and we have to get the cakes out on to the stall. Emme, was Mrs Baines selling? Or are we handing the cakes to someone else.”
Emme glimpsed guilty at the clock, and nearly had a heart attack, they were really up against the time. She switched her focus to the job in hand, trying to block out the picture of Chrissie being taught by her grandmother.
At the same time she was trying, very hard, not to panic. “Morag’s running th
e tea and scones stall, Mrs Baines was meant to be on the cake stall.”
Her mind began to run through who she could move around to sell on the cake stall, but her train of thought was interrupted by Maria.
“Well as I have iced them, I believe that means that I should have the pleasure of selling them. Chrissie, you’ve helped me ice them to so you should come and help sell them with me. Sophia we’ll let you go back to the books; truly, I don’t think I’m fastidious, but some of those books had a really musty nasty smell to them, it actually clung to my clothes. No, I prefer the smell of fresh cakes. I believe that settles that, doesn’t it? Problem solved.”
Loading the cakes on to trays, she started to carry them outside, before anyone came up with a different solution.
<><><><>
Christos was surprised at how popular the book stall was, which made getting to know Michael harder than he had thought it was going to be. Every time he started a conversation with him, someone would ask him the price of a book. So far, he had ascertained that Michael didn’t like football, he did like running and he belonged to a local running group. He was surprised about the football, he thought all boys wanted to play football, and earn the sort of money famous footballers earned.
Whenever Michael wasn’t selling, he was going through the CD’s; Christos went over to see what he was looking for.
“So which band do you like?” He asked him casually, flipping through the CD’s as well.
Michael looked up hesitantly. “None really.”
Christos looked perplexed. “What are you looking for then?”
Without acknowledging Christos again, Michael continued to rummage through the next box. “Classical pieces, I’ve been looking for Rachmaninov, he’s my favourite composer.”
Christos was taken aback. “Really, why is that?”
“Why do I like Rachmaninov? He’s very musical to listen to, I mean there are no discordant notes and each section flows seamlessly into the next; I could lose myself in listening to it. I play piano, a little, and one day I’d like to play in an orchestra. But I have to keep practising day after day.” Michaels’ eyes began to flash with excitement. “Do you know my piano teacher has a grand piano, it’s a Steinway, you wouldn’t believe the beautiful sound it makes. It’s much better than my piano, but we can’t afford our own grand piano yet. I’ve started saving but it’s going to take me years.”