Mother’s Only Child (55 page)

‘Well, I thought we might take the car.’

‘You have a car!’

‘I have part shares in a garage,’ Greg reminded her. ‘So, yes, I have a car.’

‘Jack will be beside himself,’ Maria said. ‘But will you get us all in?’

‘I think so,’ Greg said. ‘The car is like a shooting brake. It means there is no boot, just a space at the back. It was bought that way so that I can transport tools if I have to, without getting oil or dirt on the seats, but with a blanket down it could accommodate a fair few.’

And it could, of course. Maria held Martin on her knee, the three older girls on the back seat, and Theresa and Jack sat on cushions at the very rear.

That was the beginning of a wonderful period in Maria’s life and she was happier and more content than she could remember feeling for years. She lived for the weekends. Sometimes, if the weather was wet or cold, Martin and Jack would be left with Martha while Greg and Maria took the dancing troupe to Erdington, and then had time for themselves alone.

Often they would stay on into the evening at Sean and Martha’s house on Saturday after they delivered Deirdre home. Greg met all the family, including Patsy and Andrew, who called in one Saturday evening while they were there. It was primarily for Patsy to inspect the man that her mother had said was besotted with Maria. She wanted to ensure herself that he was good enough for her cousin, whom she thought had had life hard enough. She wanted her happiness too and was impressed by Greg.

‘Maria is as keen as he is,’ she said, when they had left.

‘D’you think so?’

‘I know so,’ Patsy said definitely. ‘It’s in her eyes when she looks at him, in her whole demeanour, but
she isn’t aware of it herself. She isn’t allowing herself to feel anything for the man but friendship.’

Patsy was so right, for friendship and companionship with Greg was all that Maria would permit herself to feel. She tried to ignore the times when her heart beat faster as she looked him, and the times she yearned to be enfolded in his arms and feel his lips on hers. There were other things she longed for too, which she refused to acknowledge in the day, but they invaded her dreams at night. When she woke and remembered them, she often flamed with embarrassment.

Greg never touched her, because he was afraid to—afraid that if he felt her body close to his he might forget himself and do something to frighten or upset her. So he didn’t hold her hand, or drape an arm about her shoulder. Sometimes she would have liked him to, but she would never ask him. Thinking he didn’t feel that way about her, she hammered down any feelings like that.

They went somewhere every Sunday. Sutton Park was a firm favourite and so were the Lickey Hills, which were the other side of the town. Anna and Shirley got over their reticence with Maria, and all the children got on well together. If the weather was too wet or cold and blustery for outdoors, the family would go to the cinema, occasionally the theatre, or sometimes for a drive into the country, stopping at a country pub or a traditional teashop for a meal before coming home.

Time and again, Greg wanted to tell Maria how he felt, but his courage would fail him, terrified, if he
spoke of his feelings for her, that he risked losing the friendship they shared.

They were to have Christmas together at Greg’s house, as it was larger than Maria’s, and then they were invited to have tea with Martha and Sean. Greg decided that on Christmas Day he was going to tell Maria of his feelings for her, and ask how she felt about him. Not knowing one way or the other was eating the heart out of him.

First, though, the day belonged to the children. When they all piled into Greg’s house, it was to find Santa had made a special delivery while they had been away at Mass. A new bicycle was waiting for each child. Anna’s was almost full size. She was twelve now, and teetering on the verge of womanhood, a slender and very beautiful child. Maria was sure her mother would have been proud of her. Sally and Shirley, now nine years old, had matching bikes but Sally’s was bright blue and Shirley’s bright mauve. Theresa had a little blue fairy cycle, and Jack a big red and silver three-wheeler with a large bread basket on the back. Even Martin had a tricycle.

‘I couldn’t leave him out,’ Greg said to Maria, as the two of them washed and dried the breakfast dishes. ‘I know he can’t use it much yet, but in no time he will be scooting it along with his feet, I bet.’

‘Never mind that,’ Maria said. ‘While the younger children at least might believe that these things were from Santa, I know they were not. You had no right to spend so much money.’

‘I had every right,’ Greg said. ‘It was my money and this was how I wanted to spend it.’

‘Not on my children. Greg, it’s not right.’

‘Is that so?’ Greg said. ‘You best go out into the garden and tell the children, who are almost speechless with pleasure, that Santa has made a mistake and the bikes are not for them at all.’

‘You know I can’t do that,’ Maria said. ‘It’s just—’

‘Just that you are so stiff-necked with pride,’ Greg said, throwing down the tea cloth and drawing Maria into his arms for the first time since they had met up again, causing her to gasp with pleasure. ‘I would like to do more for your children, if you would let me,’ he said. ‘I don’t know how you feel about me, Maria, and maybe I have no right to ask you, but I must tell you that, just as I said that awful day in the boatyard, my heart belonged to you. Well, it still does, and I love you more, if anything, than I did then. Even poor Nancy knew she could never have the whole of me, that my heart belonged to another, though she never complained or asked who you were.’

Maria was both shocked and delighted by Greg’s revelation. She felt herself sag against him with a sigh, her head against his shoulder, suddenly realising how right it seemed.

‘Can I hope that you feel something for me?’ Greg asked tentatively. ‘Other than friendship, I mean, nice as that is.’

‘Yes, Greg,’ Maria said. ‘I feel a great deal for you, but I had no idea about you. You gave me no hint that you felt this way.’

‘I was afraid of being shown the door, of not being allowed to see you at all,’ Greg said. ‘I mean, you did go on about us being friends from the moment we met
again, and I didn’t really know if you had changed your mind. Over the weeks and months my feelings for you have grown stronger and stronger. I knew I had to tell you today and take the risk.’

‘There is no risk, darling,’ Maria said, admitting at last what her heart had been telling her for months, ‘for I love you too with all my heart and soul.’

‘Would you…?’ Greg began tentatively. ‘Maybe this is too soon for you—I know your husband has not been dead that long—but would you consider becoming my wife?’

Maria didn’t even have to think. Almost since she had met up with Greg, she had fantasised about just such a proposal, never dreaming it would happen, trying to come to terms with the fact that she would never be anything more than a good friend to Greg.

Now those suppressed feelings had surfaced, and the effect on Maria was such an overwhelming rush of love for this man that she caught up his hand, her eyes radiant with happiness, and said, ‘Yes, I will marry you. I would be honoured to marry you and I would marry you tomorrow if we could manage it.’

‘Oh, my darling girl,’ Greg said, drawing her close.

Their lips met gently at first and then with greater intensity. In the end it was Greg who broke off first. He was breathless and his voice was husky as he said, as he withdrew a ring box from his pocket, ‘Then this, darling, is yours.’

Maria recognised the box and she opened it to see the sparkling diamond ring that Greg had given her before.

‘This is the one I sent back to your parents.’

‘Yes, I know. They sent it on to me, no note, nothing, just the ring.’

‘Didn’t you want to give it to Nancy?’

‘No,’ Greg said. ‘I had given it to the one I loved, the one I knew I would always love. Nancy wanted no engagement ring, anyway. There was only one ring she wanted and that was a wedding ring. I carried that engagement ring all through the war like a talisman. If ever I lost sight of the reason for the brutality and the carnage, the ring would remind me of you, and people like you all over the world, who we were fighting to protect.’

Maria had seldom worn the engagement ring Barney had given her once he had confessed the stone in it was a real emerald and she had realised how he had paid for it. From that moment, the joy had gone out of wearing it and she’d had left it on the chest in the bedroom. One day she had noticed it had disappeared and she presumed that it had been pawned, but she hadn’t asked because she didn’t really care what happened to it. Greg’s ring, however, bought with money honestly earned and given with love, was very special to her. She knew she would be proud to wear it and she slipped it on her finger.

The kiss was wonderful and would have gone on for a lot longer if they hadn’t been interrupted by Theresa, asking if one of them would help her ride her new bike because she kept falling off it.

The children were told about the engagement as they all tucked in to a huge Christmas dinner.

‘Does that mean you intend to get married eventually?’ Anna said.

‘Yes.’ Greg said. ‘Does that bother you?’

‘No, but…‘ she looked across at Maria, ‘I couldn’t call you Mother or Mom or anything.’

Maria remembered that Patsy had been the same with Sean—certainly at first, at least—though she now called him ‘Dad’ with ease and she realised that Anna would have more memories of her own mother than her younger sister and might feel it would be disloyal to call another the same. She smiled across at her, seeing the girl’s discomfort. ‘I understand that perfectly,’ she said. ‘Maria will be just fine,’ and she saw relief flood Anna’s face.

Jack had been digesting the news. He hadn’t understood about engagements, but he understood what Anna had said and he burst out, ‘Does that mean you will be my daddy?’

‘When we get married, yes, I will be your daddy,’ Greg told him.

‘Oh, boy!’

Everyone laughed at the expression on Jack’s face. ‘I take it you approve?’

Jack nodded vigorously. ‘And can I call you “Dad”?’

‘If you want to,’ Greg said. ‘I’d like that. What about you girls?’ he asked

Sally sneaked a look at Greg and said impishly, ‘I once told you, Mom, that if ever I had another dad, I would like one like Uncle Sean. I suppose you’re better than nothing.’

‘You cheeky young whippersnapper!’ Greg said in mock indignation. ‘I might just tell Santa you don’t deserve that bike after all.’

There was howl of protest, and when it died down
Sally said, ‘I’d like to call you “Dad” too, if you don’t mind. I didn’t care for my own dad very much.’

‘Nor did I,’ Theresa said. ‘I agree with Sally.’

‘What about you, Shirley?’ Maria asked gently, for the child hadn’t spoken, but her large expressive eyes looked troubled, as if she was thinking hard about things.

Eventually she said, ‘Sometimes I can barely remember what Mommy looked like, but I spent ages talking to her when she was ill in bed and I think she would have liked you, Maria. I don’t think she would mind either if I called you Mommy.’

Shirley’s words brought tears dampening Maria’s eyes, but she blinked them away. It was Christmas Day, not the time for weeping and wailing. She felt only happiness and contentment lay ahead. So she smiled at them all grouped around the table, her own big, happy family and her darling Greg at the head of it, and she raised her glass. ‘Happy Christmas, everyone.’

They left for Sean and Martha’s as soon after dinner as they could, for the winter day was very short. The children riding their bikes, to find Santa had brought Deirdre a bike too, in vivid green. All the family were thrilled and delighted at Greg and Maria’s news too, and admired the ring.

Sean saw that Martha would like to have a little time alone with Maria and so he said, ‘These bikes need a proper test. How about if you all go for a ride to Pype Hayes Park?’

There was a chorus of agreement to this plan and only Theresa was the slightest bit hesitant. ‘I’m not so
good at it yet,’ she said. ‘I need someone to hold the saddle for me.’

‘Don’t worry your head about that,’ Greg said. ‘Sean and I are going too, and I’ll hold the saddle for you gladly. You know, to get better at anything, it is best to get lots of practice in.’

As it was Christmas Day, the parlour was in use and a bright fire burned merrily in the grate as Maria, Martin in her arms, stood at the window and watched the children and two men leave in a fever of excitement.

‘Penny for them,’ Maria said, coming in with a tray of tea and Christmas cake.

‘They’re not worth a penny,’ Maria said, giving Martin a kiss as she put him down on the floor. She watched him take a few tottering steps before dropping to all fours again and settling himself with the collection of toys Martha had sorted out for him to play with. ‘You don’t think it too soon, do you? I mean, Barney hasn’t been dead a full year yet.’

Maria looked at her astounded. ‘I can’t believe I heard you said that,’ she said. ‘I would think this family is well aware of the day that Barney died and I would like to know why you think that he needs one minute of your consideration.’

‘Won’t people think it odd?’

‘Who gives a tinker’s cuss what anyone thinks. No one knows the type of man Barney was, nor the life he gave you,’ Martha said. ‘Tell me, Maria, what do you really think of Greg?’

‘Oh God, Martha, I love him with every part of me, and so much I ache. I can scarcely believe I met up with him again and both of us are free. We haven’t
told the children about the time we were engaged and due to be married before, for it might be upsetting for Anna and Shirley, though, of course, we did say we knew one another in Moville.’

‘What happened before to stop you getting married?’ Martha asked. ‘Sean said he never knew the reason, but Greg doesn’t seem the unreliable type.’

‘He isn’t,’ Maria said. ‘Greg wasn’t even going to speak of love or commitment of any sort until I was done at the Academy, and hopefully the war over. Daddy’s accident changed all that and Greg told me how he felt, how he had felt about me for some time. Before this, though, he had had some dalliances with other girls and one of those was Anna and Shirley’s mother. He had made her pregnant, but he was unaware of it. He had to marry her. What choice had he? You know the life she would have had if he hadn’t? Greg told me the father was a bully and that he had beaten her black and blue before she would admit he was the father. You see why we can’t tell the girls any of this yet. It would reflect so badly on their mother.’