Chance of a Lifetime

by Dilys Xavier

  Charles Cable gave the slightest of shrugs and nodded, wearing a slightly guilty smile.

  Maria put her arms around him and gave him an affectionate squeeze. ‘There's nothing for you to worry about on that score.’ She looked quizzically up into the old man's face. ‘Come on, Gramps, I want to see some laughter in your eyes; like when Daddy was around. I know it can never be exactly the same now, but we have to try.’

  He responded with a weary sigh. ‘It's just that I want to see you happy, and comfortably settled with someone I can trust before I pass on. I've got your interests at heart. If you don’t find a good man to settle down with, after my day, you'll be all alone, and that worries me.’

  ‘Don't let it bother you,’ Maria said. ‘One of these days I may give you a surprise, but certainly not for a while. I have work and a lot of living to do before I tie myself down to the kitchen sink and a houseful of kids.’ She gave him a twisted grin. ‘Do you want all my college training to go to waste? Don't you appreciate that I'm on the thresh-hold of something really exciting?’ Maria shook her head. ‘You seem to think that if I find myself a husband, all my troubles will be over. That's not always the way things work out though, is it? It has to be the right man to make a girl willing to forsake the kind of future I've got ahead of me.’

  Maria looked closely at her grandfather to see what the impact of her words had been. She wondered what he would say if she told him that the only one that had ever really occupied her mind longer than she was willing, the only one who seemed to have the power to hurt her, was Phillip Carter. And knowing how much he valued his freedom, there was no way that he would fit the bill as a husband, apart from the fact that he would probably run a mile if he knew her thoughts at that moment. Maria came back to the present with a jerk. ‘I'm sorry, but it's just not my scene, Gramps. Nor will it be for a long time yet.’

  Charles Cable nodded, seemingly satisfied that he had said his piece, but he quietly put in his final word of advice, wagging a weathered finger underneath Maria's nose. ‘Well, just don't leave it too long, lass’ he said, allowing a twinkle to return to his eyes at last, ‘or the best will have been snapped up, and you'll have to take what's left.’

  The next morning, Maria's mind was focused on the all-important letter she was waiting for. Almost afraid to look, she scanned the mail before Gramps came downstairs. One from the Potato Board, one from the local grain merchant, bills, more bills, and more; they were never-ending.

  With trembling fingers, Maria tore open the only one addressed to her. This had to be it. She pulled out a cheque, her heart jumping a beat when she looked at the amount. It was a fortune.

  ‘Fifty thousand pounds,’ she gasped, ‘as well as my initial five hundred. This is plain silly, but it’s real.’ She giggled, and kissed the cheque with a flourish. ‘It's big, and it’s beautiful.’

  With her heart thumping from excitement, she had to sit down to calm herself before breaking the news to Gramps. I don't want him to get too excited, she thought; it could upset him. Controlling her exuberance, she placed the cheque in a conspicuous position on the kitchen table, and ran trembling hands over her face. She firmed her lips, and called out. ‘I've got everything ready for the exhibition, Gramps.’

  There were a few silent minutes before Gramps shuffled into the room, the corners of his mouth turned down, and looking more weary than she had seen him for a long time. ‘Eh?’ he grunted disinterestedly, staring vacantly at her. ‘What's up, Maria?’

  ‘I said, I'm all ready for the exhibition,’ she repeated, ‘and I'll need help to hang the few last paintings. I should have asked you sooner, but if you can spare Gary to help me I should manage.’

  ‘Yes, of course, m'dear,’ he said, with the same perplexed expression he had worn for days. ‘Tom knows the drill around here, so he can take over from Gary without any problem. There's plenty of casual help to call on if needed, so you carry on without worrying. But make some sandwiches so you'll both have something to eat.’ He gave a sigh. ‘I'll come along as soon as I'm satisfied everything on the farm is under control.’

  Aware of a distinct discomfort that felt like a void in the pit of her stomach, Maria deliberately gave Gramps an assuring grin, and took the plunge. ‘I've got some news that will make you smile.’

  ‘Have you, m'dear,’ he said absently, and turned with a little glimmer appearing in his eyes, at an idea seemingly forming in his mind. He paused in the middle of his shuffle around the kitchen, and smiled back. ‘News about what, m'dear?’ he said, his expression full of expectancy. ‘About Mr Right?’

  ‘It is not what you are thinking,’ Maria said, with an emphasis on every word. ‘It's not my love-life.’ She folded her arms, and leaned against the kitchen work-top. ‘Look around; use your eyes.’

  ‘Look where, at what?’ Gramps’ gaze wandered the room.

  Maria pointed to the table. ‘Over there.’

  He screwed up his eyes, and peered across at the table. ‘Haven't got my specs' on,’ he said, digging his fingers into his pocket. ‘Can't see without them, y'know that. What is it - a letter?’

  ‘Can you see that piece of paper on the table.?’

  ‘Yes, of course I can see the piece of paper,’ Gramps said, irritably. He moved closer, and screwed up his eyes as he bent to inspect it whilst still feeling for his glasses. ‘Now let's see what all this fuss is about.’

  Maria could contain herself no longer.

  ‘It's a cheque. A big, fat cheque, Gramps.’

  ‘Well done. You sold a painting for a good price then?’ Inquisitively, Charles Cable picked up the cheque to study it, then his lower jaw dropped. He took off his glasses and stared at Maria. ‘This,’ he paused, trying to lower the high pitch of his voice, ‘is yours?’ his voice pitched a tone higher with each word.

  ‘Ours. All of it,’ Maria giggled nervously. ‘Yes, Gramps, it's all ours.’

  The old man almost collapsed on the nearest chair and drew his hand across his brow. ‘I can't believe it,’ he began. ‘You're not pulling my leg are you?’

  ‘It's real, Gramps. And it means we don't have to worry anymore.’ She looked apologetic, slowly shaking her head. ‘I wanted to, but I couldn't tell you until I had the cheque in my hand. I had to be sure. It would have been too disappointing if I'd raised your hopes falsely, but now it’s a fact, and according to what you told me, it’s enough to get us well out of debt.’

  Charles Cable sniffled, wiped his eyes, and in a choking voice, ‘Yes, more than enough, Maria.’

  ‘I've been on tenterhooks waiting for this to arrive, Gramps. I didn't want you to have the same anxiety I had. It's been truly awful.’

  Charles Cable took a deep breath of relief, then stiffened suspiciously, his tone somewhat stern to start with. ‘Maria, I think I can guess, but I want to know exactly how you got this.’ His voice trailed off as realisation came to him..

  ‘Yes,’ Maria said, boldly. ‘I was afraid you would! It's the result of the little flutter I had at the Chepstow races.’ She smiled and put her head close to his as she spoke. ‘Gary smoothed out my screwed up slip and spotted it was a winning ticket. I’d never have known otherwise. I keep the slips to tot up my gains and losses, but I didn’t check that one because I was so upset at the time. I couldn't believe it when Gary told me what I'd done. By mistake. I had to iron it out before sending it off by registered mail to The Horse Race Totalisation Board to claim my winnings.’

  ‘But it’s more than enough to save the farm and My Chance,’ Gramps said, beaming.

  ‘You see,’ she lowered her eyes in embarrassment, ‘I put all the money Phillip Carter paid for my painting of Chance on Gary's horse, to win. But something went wrong, fortunately in my favour.’ She giggled, ‘The number on my betting slip was the winning number, and not the number of Gary's mount. I might even have asked for the wrong number in my nervousness, I don't know, and I don't think I'll ever know now, but it doesn't matter. It’s providential that Phillip Carter's
money has spared me having to lose my horse to him.’

  ‘He's going to be disappointed, that's for certain,’ Gramps said with an air of confidence. ‘Does he have any idea about this? Have you said anything to him, or given him any idea you will not be selling My Chance now?’

  ‘No. And I don't see that it's any of his business. I've other things on my mind right now, and Gary and I will be leaving for Bristol as soon as possible.’ Maria hugged him. ‘It’s so good to see you looking happy again. I’ll pop this into the bank and you can decide what we need to do to set our affairs straight. Then I'll know what’s left for anything else we need.’

  Just then, Gary appeared at the door. Maria merely waved the cheque in the air. ‘All’s well, Gary.’ His face broke into the widest smile she had ever seen. ‘All the worries are over then, and My Chance is yours for ever.’

  Once the realisation hit home, the emotional lump that had risen in Maria’s throat stopped her from saying any more. With tears flooding her eyes, she muttered almost inaudibly, ‘Yes, Gary, everything’s okay now. Let’s go.’

  Chapter Nineteen

  When Maria and Gary departed to set up the exhibition, she left Gramps still gazing pensively into the distance, but with such a relaxed look on his face she felt she could cry with relief. ‘I hope we'll get everything done in time, Gary. My stomach feels queasy now,’ Maria said, as they carried in the paintings one after the other, laying them carefully on the floor of the exhibition room.

  Martin Giles, the gallery proprietor and friend of Mr Tanner, came quickly out of his office to greet them. ‘These certainly do you justice, Maria,’ he said, beaming in appreciation as he helped take them out of their protective coverings. ‘If they're as good as the first few you brought in, I wouldn't be surprised if we sell a large number tonight.’

  Maria helped direct where the paintings should hang, positioning them to balance in size, colour and topic, to best advantage. ‘I think that's it,’ she said, surveying the display with a sigh of relief. ‘What do you think, Mr Giles?’

  The debonair proprietor nodded, rubbing his hands in satisfaction. ‘Everything's just fine. It's an excellent show, Maria. Your work is so distinctive I'd recognise it anywhere. We can relax now and just wait to see what happens.’

  Maria's eyebrows raised expressively as she checked the time. ‘The guests are due to begin arriving in about half an hour,’ she said, nervously. ‘Uncork the wine when you come back please, Gary, and I'll put out the cheese and biscuits before I go to freshen up.’

  Maria swept back into the exhibition room looking radiant in a body-hugging, amber coloured dress. The plunging neck-line and cap sleeves accentuated her shapely bosom, and the colour of the garment added soft lights to her green eyes.

  ‘I feel like a stuffed toy,’ Gary laughed, running a finger around the inside of his collar to loosen it a little. This is uncomfortable, but I'll suffer it for you.’ He wiped beads of perspiration off his forehead before pouring a few glasses of wine and handing them around. He lifted his glass. ‘Here's wishing you every success, Maria.’

  The proprietor nodded in agreement, then he took up his position near the door to welcome the first arrivals. Just then, an elderly couple came in, closely followed by four others. Martin Giles handed out glossy folded cards which informed the guests of Maria's training and success to date, as well as the name, number and price of each of the paintings on exhibition.

  Close to the appointed time of seven-thirty, people came through the door one after the other until a happy babble of voices filled the room. It was madly hectic as Gary helped to hand out the cheese and wine. In small groups, or one by one, the guests viewed the paintings, while Martin, beaming with delight at the speed with which the pictures were selling, busied himself sticking red spots on the ones that had sold. His colour had heightened with excitement. Through the crowd Maria could see the portly figure of friendly George Tanner elbowing his way towards her.

  ‘Congratulations, Maria,’ he said, wobbling his florid cheeks, and gesturing with a wide sweep of his arm at the paintings. ‘This is a wonderful show. You must feel very pleased.’

  ‘Thanks to you,’ Maria smiled. ‘If you hadn't introduced me to Mr Giles, this would never have happened. It's given me a wonderful opportunity to spread my work farther afield, and I’m grateful to you.’

  Turned in Mr Tanner's direction, Maria was in a position to see late arrivals coming in through the heavy plate glass doors. She clenched her fists as panic gripped her when she saw Davina Wright and Phillip Carter flowing in with the crowd. She wanted to disappear from sight, and almost dropped her glass of wine in the attempt. ‘Excuse me please, I'll see you later,’ she said hurriedly to George Tanner, and took sanctuary quickly behind two well-endowed ladies who were chatting on the other side of the room. Immediately, the two women turned their attentions on her, glad of an exclusive opportunity to question her about the paintings.

  The arrival of Phillip and Davina had taken her by surprise. She had no recollection of receiving an acceptance from him, and his presence was unnerving to say the least, particularly when she needed all the confidence possible. Frantically, she looked around for Gary who was still handing out glasses of wine. But where is Gramps, she thought, as her eyes searched the room again. He should be here by now. Suddenly, she felt alone and uncomfortably vulnerable. Until now, everything had been going so well. ‘Damn Phillip Carter. Does he have to spoil my highlight of the year too?’ she muttered.

  Curiosity getting the better of her, Maria darted a sly look at Phillip and his blonde companion. Her eyes sparked envy as they lingered on Phillip's total absorption with the slender beauty at his side. Davina clung to him, her fingers sliding sensuously along the lapel of his immaculate, steel grey jacket.

  There was no doubt about it, Phillip stood out in the crowd; he always did anyway. A superb specimen, he looked devastatingly handsome. As for the elegant blonde with him, she quite obviously revelled in his company. Maria's stomach crunched at Davina's closeness to him and she had to admit to a sneaky feeling of wanting to oust the woman, and of wishing she could take Davina's place at his side. Perhaps, she thought, it might have been that way if I hadn't rejected him so often.

  She tore her gaze away, wondering why she had such wild thoughts. I don't want him, but, I don't want anyone else to have him either. She tossed her head, coming to her senses. I'm here to mix and talk, so that's what I'd better do.

  Summoning courage, Maria stepped out boldly from her hiding place thinking she had better get it over with. She steeled herself to advance directly towards Phillip and Davina, hoping her embarrassment would not show. But as Maria made herself obvious, it was Davina who spoke first, moving forward graciously to greet her in the centre of the room.

  ‘Here's the clever one,’ Davina drawled smoothly. ‘Congratulations my dear, it's a fantastic, super show. How do you do it?’ The elegant woman tossed her blonde head, and pouted. ‘I wish I had your talent; I can’t even draw a circle with a compass.’

  Maria smiled gracefully at Davina and then looked meaningfully at Phillip, who had sidled up and was witness to the one sided conversation.

  ‘I guess it’s just as well we’re not all endowed in the same way, darling, eh?’ Davina drolled, as Phillip reached them.

  Maria knew what the woman meant all right, and felt she could have knocked her to the floor cheerfully. By now Phillip had a slightly flushed countenance.

  ‘You two know each other?’ he mumbled, his brow furrowed.

  ‘Of course we do, silly darling boy, you've forgotten.’ Davina placed a lacquered hand on Maria's arm, causing her to recoil instinctively. ‘I introduced myself to Maria at the stables when she was painting one of your charges. We met again, very briefly, at the country club in The Cotswolds. Don’t you remember darling?’ Davina flashed a derisive look at Phillip, and his colour deepened visibly as he nodded, silently recollecting the incident.

  Maria looked away, emba
rrassed for him, but stinging at the memory of the confidential aside that Davina had so rudely enjoyed with Phillip that night. It was an incident she preferred to forget, and she was thankful for the chatter, the laughter, and the clink of glasses around them as the three of them stood together, embarrassingly short of words.

  Phillip's efforts to bring a smile to his lips had failed, so instead he took on a slightly haughty appearance and changed the subject, trying to sound light-hearted. ‘I,’ he coughed, and started again. ‘I sent out the invitations you left with me, Maria.’

  Maria nodded, and looked around the room with a smirk on her lips. ‘Thank you for doing that. I knew you’d sent them because of the acceptances that came in,’ she said stiffly, remembering the words she had flung at him when she had thrown the bundle of invitations at him.

  ‘I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it and I left it too late to let you know, I'm sorry.’

  Maria shrugged. ‘It doesn't matter.’

  ‘I insisted he should bring me here tonight,’ Davina broke in, her voice shrill above the murmur of the crowd. ‘I was at the stables earlier today, and twisted his arm to bring me. I fully intended to come with or without him anyway. You received my acceptance, of course?’

  Maria nodded, her dislike of Davina surging hot blood to her head, making her feel slightly faint. This is getting worse by the second, she thought, thankful to see Martin Giles sidle up to her.

  ‘Do you know,’ he emphasised, waving his arms wildly, ‘this is incredible; you’ve almost sold out. We’ll celebrate this success, later.’

  Knowing that Phillip had heard the art dealer’s remark, Maria wanted to exclude him from the celebrations, but failed to find a plausible reason.

  ‘I really am sorry,’ Martin apologised, with a smile as he took Maria possessively by the arm. ‘I'm afraid I must drag you away from your friends now; a young couple over there want to talk to you.’ He pointed to the other side of the room and nodded politely to Phillip and Davina. ‘Excuse us, please.’