‘Nah. Which was a shame really. I’d have liked to think of a baby Stanley being wheeled about Beckford in his pram.’
Contemplating the cabbie’s Christian name, Callie almost wished she had told Stanley to hurry. She certainly didn’t relish the thought of Sophie giving birth in a taxi and feeling duty bound to call her baby Stanley! Stanley didn’t have quite the same ring as Carlos. What am I thinking of, she reproached herself, climbing into the cab herself. With things as they were it was highly unlikely Sophie would call the baby Carlos – even if it was a boy.
Firmly convinced it would be girls’ names they would soon be discussing, Callie turned her thoughts away from Carlos. It was Sophie who needed her immediate attention. ‘How is it?’ she asked, watching Sophie’s eyes close in pain and concentration.’
‘Not very pleasant. I’m dreading the main road with those sleeping policemen.’
Looking into his rear view mirror, Stanley waited for the current contraction to subside before suggesting. ‘If you don’t fancy the main road luv, we can go via the Lake District. It’ll take a bit longer but there’s no sleeping policemen.’
‘The Lake District! You’re joking! That’s miles away! Why should Sophie want to go via—?’
‘He means the local Lake District,’ Sophie said through tight lips. ‘Ullswater Terrace, Buttermere Road, Windermere Avenue...’
‘Oh, I see. Whew! For a minute you had me worried. What do you think, Sophie? Can you last out a bit longer?’
‘I think so. First babies take ages to arrive. The midwife will probably send me home when she sees me.’
‘I’ve a feeling she won’t,’ said Stanley, the voice of experience. ‘You mark my words luv, you’re well on the way!’
‘I wish I wasn’t!’ Sophie replied grimly, when they reached Beckford Maternity Unit. ‘I don’t suppose I can change my mind about this?’
Placing Sophie’s overnight bag on the kerb, Stanley shook his head. ‘The first time’s always the worst – so my missus says. ‘Still … you’re here now so you might as well stay. Here’s my card and number. If you want me to take you home tomorrow, give me a buzz. All the best luv.’
Managing a feeble wave Sophie turned and reached for Callie’s arm. ‘I can’t believe he’s talking about me going home tomorrow. At the moment I don’t even know how I’ll get through the next few hours. ‘Oh, Callie! If only Carlos were—’
‘If only Carlos were what?’
‘It doesn’t matter. Forget I said that! It’s simply my hormones playing horrid tricks. As far as I’m concerned Carlos Martins doesn’t exist anymore.’
*
Oh, I'm afraid he does, Callie told herself several hours later when through tear-filled eyes and doing her best to ignore Sophie’s nails digging deep into her palms, she watched her friend safely delivered of a son.
‘Oh, Sophie! Just look at him! He’s simply perfect. What are you going to call him’
Fully expecting Sophie to hesitate – she’d been so cagey about names – Callie was surprised to hear the names Nicholas Edward escape from her lips. ‘Edward after my father and Nicholas ... because I like it,’ she said simply.
‘Well, Nicholas Edward Fuller,’ the midwife announced, handing over the tiny bundle. You’ve already shown your mother you’ve a healthy pair of lungs. Now how about showing her your amazing head of hair?’
Fighting back tears of joy and sorrow Sophie held out her arms. An amazing head of hair was right. Nicholas had masses of it; thick and dark and flattened against his head to emphasise his delicate features. She gazed at him in wonderment, her earlier words returning to haunt her. How could she say Carlos didn’t exist anymore? He was here in miniature, nestled against her breast, navy-blue eyes trying to focus on his mother. From now on and with every waking moment she knew he would be a constant reminder of Carlos and last summer.
Hearing Sophie choke back a stifled sob the midwife turned to Callie with a knowing smile. ‘Such an emotional time, that first moment between mother and baby. After all these years it never fails to move me.’
Too overcome to reply Callie turned to brush away a tear of her own.
‘Sophie,’ she said eventually, when they were alone. ‘Should I go and ring...?’
‘No!’ Sophie cried, adamant. ‘I don’t want him to know! Promise me, you won’t ring Carlos and tell him about—’
‘Actually, I – er – meant Monty and Edna…’.
‘Oh! Of course. Yes, please. If you would?’
Before leaving Sophie’s bedside, Callie brushed Sophie’s damp hair away from her forehead and gave her a reassuring hug. ‘I give you my word, I won’t ring Carlos. Besides, I can’t, can I? You made sure I never found out where he lives.’
And Carlos won’t know where I live either Sophie thought secretly, when Callie left the room. I made sure of that too. With her baby nestled in her arms she thought of Victoria Villas. Of all the residents only Lottie and Pearl had been given her new address and telephone number.
‘I’m making a new start and going ex-directory,’ she’d explained to the two women, ‘In case my – er – ex-fiancé should make a nuisance of himself.’
‘Don’t you worry ducks,’ Lottie had reassured, dabbing at her eyes. ‘Pearl and me remember what Gavin looked like. We won’t breathe a word. Your secret hideaway’s safe with us.’
‘Not so secret you won’t come and visit me?’ Sophie had insisted.
Comforted by the prospect Pearl and Lottie had arrived at Coniston Avenue with a brightly decorated container of early spring flowers.
‘I know it’s cheating and not like planting your own,’ Pearl said, heaving the tub into position in the garden. ‘But we thought you might be grateful for a splash of colour once the baby’s born.’
*
One week later Edna tiptoed cautiously into the nursery. ‘Is he sleeping?’
‘Yes. He fell asleep about five minutes ago. Since then I’ve been admiring Pearl and Lottie’s flowers, thinking how nice it will be to put Nicholas’s pram in the garden. You know, I really can’t thank you and Uncle Monty enough for helping me like this. As for coming all this way.’
‘Nonsense!’ Edna put a finger to Sophie’s lips. ‘I don’t want to hear another word. Monty’s making tea – or did you want a rest?’
Sophie shook her head, pausing by the crib to move a tiny, balled fist and rearrange the blanket. Edna stood by awe struck. ‘He’s so beautiful, just like you used to be’
‘Aunt Edna! He’s not at all like me! From the photos I’ve seen of myself as a baby, I had hardly any hair and looked just like a monkey! I certainly never had navy blue eyes! Nicholas is exactly like his father.’
Spying the sadness in Sophie’s face before she went downstairs, Edna whispered to herself. ‘Then I only wish his father knew he existed!’
‘Still getting plenty of cards then, Sophie?’ Monty observed, carrying the tea tray into the dining room.
‘Yes. It’s like Christmas all over again. What with Easter cards and birth congratulations; I even received three more Happiness in your New Home cards this morning.’
‘Easter was last week and you moved in ages ago,’ Monty said, pouring the tea.
‘I know. But I’ve only recently got round to sending out my new address. The Easter cards – having gone to Victoria Villas – were redirected here by the post office.’
Observing his niece flick through her post, it didn’t escape Monty’s notice that Sophie moved a pale pink envelope to one side.
‘I wonder if it was from Carlos,’ he whispered in hushed tones when Sophie went upstairs to feed Nicholas. ‘I don’t mind admitting I’m extremely concerned, Edna. It’s all very well Sophie saying she doesn’t want Carlos to know where she’s living. There’s nothing to say he won’t try and contact her at Victoria Villas. What if Lottie and Pearl tell him where she is?’
Edna placed a reassuring hand on his arm. ‘Monty dear. The letter Sophie tried to conceal wasn’
t from Carlos. It was from Rosa. I recognised her awful writing from that box of postcards, Sophie cleared out when she left Victoria Villas. And … before you become even more paranoid about Carlos snatching little Nicholas away, let me tell you Rosa’s letter had also been redirected. So…’
‘So?’
‘It can only mean Rosa doesn’t have Sophie’s new address either. Callie says you’re worrying unduly and I say you’ve been reading too many tabloid newspapers!’
Unconvinced, Monty paced the floor. ‘Hmph! So what happens when we return to Norfolk and Sophie’s on her own?’
‘Monty!’ Edna cried, ‘Sophie won’t be on her own! If there’s a problem she’ll have Callie, Patrick, the entire Callaghan Clan and no doubt most of the regulars from The Nag’s Head, springing to her assistance. Poor Carlos wouldn’t stand a chance.’
‘Poor Carlos! Why poor Carlos? Surely it should be poor Sophie? It was Carlos who deserted her!’
‘We don’t know that for certain. What I do know however, is that Sophie loved him deeply. She must have to … well you know … According to Callie, Carlos even asked Sophie to marry him.’
‘Then why didn’t she?’
‘Sophie didn’t tell me. It’s not my business to pry,’ Edna replied tersely. ‘If you really want to know I suggest you ask Sophie yourself. But if you upset her Monty, I swear I’ll...’
‘There’s no need,’ a quiet voice called from the doorway. ‘As for upsetting people, I can only apologise. It appears it’s me who’ll upset you. Please don’t fall out on my account.’
Monty leapt to his feet. ‘Forgive me, Sophie. Believe it or not I was only thinking of you. Like your aunt said, I’ve no right to pry.’
Sophie sat wearily in a chair. ‘Oh, I think you have every right – particularly as you’ve both been so good to me. Therefore, it is only fair that I tell you why I couldn’t marry Carlos.’
‘Don’t tell me he was already married!’
‘Monty!’ Edna glared, daggers drawn.
‘No. He wasn’t married when he proposed to me – but he is now. You see he married Rosa.’
‘Rosa!’ Monty and Edna chorused in disbelief.
‘Carlos married Rosa at the beginning of the year. Today I heard that she’s recently given birth to a baby girl. Born prematurely and…’ Stifling a sob Sophie ran from the room. ‘I think Nicholas needs changing,’ she called back unconvincingly, hurrying upstairs to the nursery.
‘The bastard! The dirty, rotten bastard!’ Monty hissed angrily. ‘If I ever come face to face with Carlos Martins! I’ll…’
Edna however wasn’t listening. Her thoughts were elsewhere, winging away to a certain pale pink envelope. ‘Of course!’ she whispered. ‘Why didn’t I realise? Pink for a little girl!’
With Monty loading up the car ready for their journey home, Sophie took her aunt to one side. ‘Now it’s my turn to ask you to stop worrying,’ she begged. ‘Please will you convince Uncle Monty I am perfectly safe and extremely content.’
‘If you’re sure dear?’
‘I am. Honestly. And if you don’t get a move on you’ll be late for your guests at Casa Edna. Which reminds me I’d better get a move on too. Callie’s calling this evening so I shan’t be on my own.’
*
‘Shall I tell you what hurts the most? Callie,’ Sophie sniffed, blowing her nose hard while reaching for another tissue. ‘It’s when I think of Rosa twittering on about being a virgin bride, keeping herself pure for her husband. To think I even used to feel so guilty about Carlos and I making love.’
‘Believe me, I do understand,’ Callie said, patting her hand sympathetically. ‘You have every reason to feel hurt and betrayed.’
‘Not only hurt and betrayed, I now realize what a bloody fool I was too! It’s as if both Carlos and Rosa used me in their little game. Not only did I fall for it, they’ve even called the baby Sophia after me! I didn’t dare tell that to my aunt and uncle.’
Chapter 17
Carlos felt all eyes turn in his direction. Rosa crossed the room and thrust a screaming infant into his arms.
‘Here you are,’ she said, her own eyes flashing wickedly. ‘Grandmother’s forever telling me you had the magic touch with me all those years ago. See if you can quieten little Sophia. She’s making so much noise, I can hardly hear our guests talk.’
With the newly subdued baby in his arms, Carlos acknowledged the assembled guests with a thin smile and walked out onto the balcony.
‘Oh, Sophia,’ he whispered. ‘How unlike your namesake you are. The Sophie I knew and loved was so quiet and undemanding. Although,’ he said with a wry smile, when the baby reached up to grasp his forefinger in her chubby palm. ‘Your hold on me is just as strong.’
Looking out over Lisbon rooftops, Carlos acknowledged Maria-Clara was right. He had had the magic touch all those years ago at Rosa’s christening. But how he wished he hadn’t! Lost in thought, he was transported back twenty years to when he was a shy, introvert teenager and the wife of his father’s business partner had been safely delivered of a long-hoped for daughter.
‘I have the sons, José,’ Eduardo Martins had beamed, patting his friend warmly on the back. ‘Now you have the beautiful daughter. Between us we have guaranteed the future of the Martins-Ramirez partnership.’
At the time meant only as a joke, everyone (having had far too much champagne) had laughed and teased the blushing teenager. Carlos had then spent a thoroughly miserable day, listening to both family and guests refer to the tiny bundle with rosebud mouth, as his future bride! Far too young to know what all the fuss was about, Rosa had displayed a healthy pair of lungs throughout the entire proceedings. Passed from relation to relation and guest to guest by her frail, exhausted mother, it was Maria Clara who eventually suggested.
‘Why not let Carlos hold her? He’s a quiet, sensitive child. He’s certainly very good at calming that wild, younger brother of his – when Cristovao’s mother allows him to come and visit!’
The mere mention of Carlos’s mother and the young son she’d taken with her, when she had left Eduardo Martins for no apparent reason, sent a frisson of uncertainty about the room. Anxious to avoid further unpleasantness, Carlos had stepped forward, found the yelling Rosa thrust in his arms and been greeted with wild applause. To shouts of ‘Bravo Carlos!’ the tiny bundle had suddenly stopped her lusty screaming and gazed almost adoringly into his navy blue eyes.
‘There! What did I tell you?’ Eduardo had proclaimed to the bemused gathering. ‘Is that not perfect? Are they not made for each other?’
Sadly, Rosa’s healthy constitution was not shared by her mother, who had died unexpectedly, within two weeks of the christening. The indomitable Maria-Clara Martins taking it upon herself to help the distraught José Ramirez, subsequently sent along her only daughter to care for the grieving father and his motherless child.
The sound of yet another champagne cork and the smell of a familiar perfume, summoned Carlos back to the present. Still cradling the sleeping baby in his arms he felt someone touch his shoulder.
‘Mother! What are you doing here?’
‘Don’t look so shocked Carlos. I was sent an invitation. Remember?’
‘I hadn’t expected you to accept that’s all. Did Father know you were coming?’
Helena Martins brushed an exquisitely manicured hand gently across Sophia’s head of dark curls. ‘Of course. In fact it was your father who persuaded me to come. Little Sophia is, after all, my granddaughter. Why should I let Maria-Clara monopolise her?’
‘Oh, so you’ve noticed have you?’
‘I’ve noticed how the poor child is hardly ever left alone. I’m not surprised she's been crying ever since the baptism service. Sophia must be quite worn out by it all.’
‘At least she’s sleeping now,’ Carlos said, looking down at long curling lashes and a perfectly formed, rose bud mouth set in sleep.
Deep in thought Helena studied her son. ‘You know – it does suit y
ou Carlos. Seeing you standing there with a baby in your arms, I…’ Recognising a familiar shuttered look on his face, she continued hurriedly. ‘Oh, dear! That wasn’t very tactful of me. Today of all days, I’m sorry. May I ask ... do you ever hear from Sophie?’
‘No!’ Carlos said bitterly. ‘Rosa received a polite letter of congratulations ages ago and I had a note announcing she was going back to her ex-fiancé.’
‘Did that surprise you?’
‘Of course it did! Why should she do that? She didn’t love him!’
‘Love isn’t everything Carlos. Perhaps Sophie had her reasons.’
Not wanting to wake the sleeping baby in his arms, Carlos hissed. ‘That’s rich coming from you Mother! You’ve always maintained the reason you left Father was because you loved him too much!’
Later, waiting to kiss her son goodbye, Helena took him to one side and whispered in his ear. ‘Carlos ... about Sophie. It was Cristovao who always gave up on everything, whereas you were the exact opposite and always saw a thing through.’
‘Are you implying I’ve changed?’
‘Not exactly. Yet at the same time I know you’re deeply unhappy. Unless you discover for yourself what happened to Sophie you can never be free to...’
‘I do know what happened! She married her ex-fiancé!’
‘Did she? Do you have proof?’
‘Well, no. That doesn’t mean she hasn’t’
‘Nor does it mean she has,’ Helena replied, softly.
*
On a balmy, late September day, when the family met for lunch in the water gardens originally created for Expo ’98, Cristovao turned to his brother with a curious smile.
‘Is it my imagination or have our parents been seeing more of each other since Sophia’s christening?’
‘At least they don’t argue anymore,’ Carlos observed. ‘And as long as Grandmother doesn’t interfere again, who knows what might happen?’
Cristovao looked ahead to where Maria-Clara and Augustina were sitting in the shade, gently rocking Sophia’s pram. ‘There’s little danger of that now. She’s too old and frail. I understand she’s even decided against going to Alvor next month. I thought she’d want to see your new villa. As for myself I can’t, Grandmother, Elisabete and Rosa have talked of nothing else for weeks.’
When Summer Fades Page 24