Maggie’s eyes lit up. “A picture of her, you say?”
Eric sniggered. “You naughty girl! What are you cooking in that devious head of yours now?”
Maggie smirked. “I think I’ll do better than just send him a picture of her. With my next letter, I’ll send him a picture of me and Laura with our children. I bet he’ll love that!”
“Oh, I’m sure. Laura has a son you said? How old is he?”
“He’ll be seven in a couple of months. He’s adorable, Eric, a little angel.”
“Does he take after her?”
“I’ll tell you this: he’s the spitting image of his father.”
“Willard, is it?”
Maggie gave a curt nod and said nothing, unwilling to correct her cousin for his assumption.
“And you said that the marriage isn't working?”
“No, it’s not. But let’s be honest; we’re both happy about that. I’m also sure Christian will be delighted when I tell him, but you leave that to me. Promise not to tell!”
Eric gave a firm nod of compliance.
“And as for enticing him with a photo of Laura, I’ll choose one that will simply knock him off his feet. If he loved to carry a photo of Laura on him in the past, wait till he gets this one.” She chuckled with mirth. “Why, I’m sure it’ll be the very thing that will get him visiting Brighton for Easter like a rocket shooting up to the sky!”
Maggie’s excitement involved the prospect of Christian laying his eyes on Freddie in the photograph. Eric had no idea, of course, but he still gave a satisfied smile at the idea of his best friend holding on to new hope. Overjoyed with their plan, the two cousins relaxed back on the sofa, continuing their joyful chatter.
Maggie was aware that what she planned to do meant she’d be betraying her friend’s wishes. Laura would never allow her to show Christian the resemblance of Freddie to him. But for Maggie, the wish to bring them together had taken on the strength of a force of nature. Feeling guilt over a little thing like that was a price she was more than willing to pay, seeing that the prospect of their happiness together again was palpable now.
Chapter 21
Easter week came fast enough; the whole town seemed to hold its breath for the re-opening of the West Pier. On Tuesday, Maggie and Laura decided to meet up downtown to buy the children new clothes for Easter Day. After their shopping, they wound up in a tearoom to catch their breath.
“It’s lovely here, isn't it?” said Laura, taking in the mad rush of people entering and exiting through the tiny shop’s front door. Easter week had brought out in everyone a rare sense of celebration, which had them roaming the streets in the day, filling every store. People still hadn’t had enough of rejoicing after the end of the horrid war and welcomed special days with heightened exuberance, as if they felt the need to make up for the dreary years behind them.
“Indeed it is,” replied Maggie after taking another sip from her hot drink. “And just think! In a couple of days we’ll be walking along the Pier again!” She gave a little cheer, which turned a few heads in the busy room, but little did she care. Her eyes were pinned on Laura’s exultant face across the table.
Freddie and little Sandra sat side by side, each one beside their mother.
“We are going on Maundy Thursday, aren’t we? I know the ceremony is the next day, but I simply can't wait!” said Laura upon draining the last dregs of tea from her cup.
Maggie nodded as she munched on her toast. “Of course!” She spooned the last piece of Sandra’s cinnamon cake and put it in the child’s mouth. Sandra chewed it, her eyes widening, as she savoured the delicious taste on her tongue.
“You love cinnamon, don’t you, my darling?” cooed Maggie. Laura wiped her son’s mouth after he finished his chocolate cake and, to her surprise, the boy shook his head away. Wincing, then pulling a face of dismay, he took the napkin from her hand to wipe his mouth on his own.
Laura chuckled and turned to Maggie, who gave a mute grin. Freddie had grown too old to allow his mother’s attentions in public. The thought was hilarious and the two women started to giggle. Freddie regarded them with a vacant look, which made them laugh harder.
“Fancy going to the flickers tomorrow?” asked Maggie once their merriment had subsided somewhat.
“Anything good on?”
“Anchors Aweigh. The kids will love it!”
“Oh yes, that’s lovely, I hear. I’ve seen the photographs. Don’t you just love Gene Kelly?” Laura rolled her eyes dreamily while Maggie made appreciative sounds. She turned to Freddie, her eyes alight with excitement. “Now about this movie, I hear there’s a little boy in it, who wants to be a sailor; just like your granddad! How would you like that my angel? Will you come with mummy tomorrow?”
“Yes, please!” cried Freddie, his eyes ablaze. Beside him, little Sandra opened up her eyes, startled. She had dozed off, exhausted from walking, and now she was annoyed. She started to wail, causing Freddie to pat her lovingly on the head. Taken aback, Sandra fell silent and gazed at him, her eyes glazed over.
“Sorry, Sandra,” Freddie said to her sweetly, and she gave him a smile in return.
“Look at him! Not even seven yet and already a charmer! God help you when he grows up; you’ll have the girls sleeping on your doorstep just to get a look at him,” teased Maggie.
Laura reached out and pinched little Freddie’s cheek.
“You little devil,” she said, proud for his sweet, caring nature. His dark hair and huge blue eyes had been a constant reminder of his father over the years. Now, she was even happier than before, because he had taken Christian’s disposition, too.
“So how are things with Charles at home? Still out of your way, is he?” asked Maggie, breaking Laura’s reverie.
“He’s indifferent still, which, as you know, suits me fine. There has been one significant development though, a good one; but not for me, for his sake, really.”
Maggie raised a brow. “That’s gracious of you, considering the kind of hell he’s given you!”
“What’s the point in bearing grudges? At least, he’s mellowed over the years. We don’t fight, and we’re even civil on the rare occasions that we exchange a few words. There’s no ugliness any more . . .” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t wish to discuss those awful times, not even to think back on them. Nowadays, she preferred to only look ahead, where her only glimmer of hope existed.
“So what development is this?”
“It’s his father. Remember the earl had a heart attack earlier this year?”
Maggie nodded. She remembered, of course. The old colonel had nearly died. He was rushed to hospital quickly, and the doctors did a remarkable job. He was very lucky.
“Well, since then, the earl changed a lot. I think it made him realise that being so critical of his son, he’d driven him away. So, through his wife, father and son started speaking again. Charles went to Lakeview last weekend and they finally made up.”
“Really? Charles actually told you this?”
“Well, as always, my in-laws call regularly to talk to me and Freddie, so Susan had already told me about their intentions . . . But yes, Charles has mentioned it, too. It was hard not to. He came through the door smiling brightly. It was quite a sight. I couldn’t ignore it; I had to ask. And he told me.”
Maggie leaned forward, her eyes huge. “Really?
“Indeed. The earl apologised to him for his harsh manner over the years and practically begged him to let bygones be bygones. He’s also changing his will again to include Charles in it. Not all the estate, mind you. He’s still leaving Lakeview to Freddie, but Charles will now inherit a large amount of money in the event of his father’s death.”
“Presumably, that would be a handsome amount. Is he contented?”
“Let’s just say, that even if he invests it in something simple like bonds, he’ll never have to work another day in his life.” Laura rolled her eyes. “I live in hope that one day, he’ll decide to close down that fil
thy place.”
Maggie gave Laura a knowing look. The cabaret was the talk of the town. Charles’s management had made it famous during the war, but for no favourable reasons. People still remembered it as the hangout of drunken GI’s. Honest, family folk didn’t frequent it for that reason.
“I hope so, Laura. I don’t expect he’s making much money from it, anyway. Its reputation was ruined by the end of the war.”
Laura let out a long sigh. “All this talk of Charles is running a risk of getting my spirits down, and that won't do.” She leaned closer to Maggie, rested her elbows on the table and knitted her hands together, her long, flaming red nail varnish catching the overhead light.
Maggie regarded Laura with admiration, but not just because her friend’s matching, flaming red lipstick complimented her nails, giving her the glamorous look of a Hollywood star. It was a general admiration over the way she’d bloomed since she gave her Christian’s photograph. Maggie bet it gave her friend new wings of hope; a new life.
“So, do you suppose with the Pier opening there’s a chance of Christian paying the town a visit?” Laura gave a frown, but the hope in her eyes was unmistakable.
Maggie raised a brow. “Christian?”
“Has he written at all? You haven’t mentioned him for quite some time.”
Maggie shrugged. “Sorry, Laura. Last time I asked him if he planned to visit Brighton, he was evasive. I don’t know why or what he intends to do.”
“Maybe you should ask him again. It would be lovely to see him . . . and to catch up. You know, for old time’s sake.”
Maggie nodded and pretended to watch the loud family that was exiting through the door. She placed a hand over her mouth and tried to suppress her merriment. The photograph had done its work. Laura was ready, asking her to intervene to make this work. She turned to her friend, and flashed her a wide grin.
“What?” asked Laura, her brow furrowing.
“Nothing. I was just thinking how right you are. Maybe I should ask him once again to come and visit the Pier with us.” She winked. “You know . . . for old time’s sake.”
Chapter 22
Maggie was making breakfast early the next morning when the telephone rang, taking her by surprise. Ian had the week off from the shop where he worked as a salesman. It was Easter week, and he was home that morning, having stayed in bed till later than normal.
Ian yawned as he rushed down the stairs, then put up a hand to stop Maggie from leaving the stove. He strode to the side table and picked up the telephone.
“Maggie, it’s for you,” he whispered, putting a hand over the receiver. He pulled an expression of mystification, then broke into a grin. Still whispering, he winked at her and said, “You’re not hiding a lover from me, are you?”
Maggie stuck her tongue out in response, then took the receiver from his warm, tender hand.
“Hello?” There was a short pause and then Maggie’s jaw dropped. A moment later, her face lit up, her eyes igniting with elation. “Christian!” she exclaimed, “I don’t believe it! You’re in town?”
***
That same morning, Maggie entered the fancy tearoom earlier than her appointment called for, but she simply couldn’t wait. Christian had named the place during their earlier telephone exchange, saying it was near his hotel. He’d only arrived in town late the night before and wanted to see her as soon as possible. When Maggie walked in, although she was early, she found him there waiting.
Christian jolted upright when he saw her, his face bright and eager.
“Christian! I don’t believe it! Look at you in a suit, all shiny like a brand new penny!”
“Mags! You haven’t changed a bit!”
“You Devon boys sure know how to talk to the girls,” she teased, patting his hand affectionately when they sat together at the table.
“How’s Ian? And little Sandra?”
“They’re fine, thank you. Ian’s looking forward to meeting you. You should come home and see them both!”
“I will, I mean, I’d love to, soon . . .” said Christian, his face glowing. “Mags, I’m sorry I asked you to come and meet me alone here. It’s just that . . . well . . .”
Maggie gave Christian an encouraging look, then patted his hand one more time. “I know, I understand.”
“Look, Mags . . . that photograph you sent me . . .” He scratched his head. “I mean, thank you, but . . . I have to ask you something. Ever since you sent it to me, I’ve been going insane.”
Maggie drew a long breath, then gazed deep into his eyes. “I know what you want to ask, and the answer is yes.”
“Yes? But you don’t know what I need to ask.”
“I know, Christian. You noticed the resemblance, didn’t you?”
Christian nodded slowly, as if dazed, his lips twitching. He rubbed at his mouth and looked away. He turned to her again, this time his eyes searching hers desperately. Droplets of sweat glistened on his furrowed forehead. “It can't be! But if it’s true, then how come Laura didn’t—”
“What? How come she didn’t tell you? What was she to say, my darling? She’s married and you live far from here.”
“I know . . . I know . . .” Christian lamented shaking his head. He ran a hand through his hair, then pinned Maggie’s eyes with his desperate stare.
“So you’re telling me that I have a son? That this little angel is mine?”
“Yes, Christian. That’s God’s honest truth.”
“But what about Laura’s husband?”
Maggie jutted out her chin. “Of course, he knows. That kind of thing cannot be hidden. Freddie is your spitting image.”
“So has Willard come to accept this? He loves her that much, does he?” The words hurt him like a thorn in his throat. The tone of his voice made that evident.
Maggie huffed, then gave a wistful smirk. “He doesn’t love her . . . or if he does, it’s a sick kind of love. Do you really believe this man is capable of truly loving anyone else but himself?”
Christian’s eyes lit up. “Then how come they’re still together? If he doesn’t love her, and if he knows the child is mine, then why is he still with her?”
“My guess is it’s his ego that’s stopping him from giving her a divorce. He simply won't allow losing her. Long ago, he decided to have her and now keeps her in his house like a trophy; a trophy he long forgot what nasty games he played to win. A trophy that by now he holds no affinity for, but is still unwilling to let it go.”
Christian knitted his brows. “Trophy? What do you mean, she’s like a trophy to him?”
Maggie sighed. She tried to find the right words and was thankful when a young waiter approached to take their order. There was a wide range of fancy teas on offer, but neither of them seemed to care to hear about them. They ordered Earl Grey and the waiter turned away.
Maggie leaned closer to Christian across the table and spoke in a hushed tone. “Believe me, my old friend, this man has done terrible things to take Laura away from you. For him, it’s been like a game from the start. Although you don’t know, the game is still on between you two. He’ll never let you have her. Still, if you ask me, it’s more than fair to steal her back, right under his snooty nose.” Maggie’s face was animated with feeling. To accentuate her exasperation, she banged her open hand on the table upon finishing her sentence.
“Look Maggie, I have a confession to make, and you must promise not to tell Laura, at least not until I’ve had the chance to tell her myself.” He gave a laboured sigh. “I still love her, Mags . . .” His eyes glistened as if he ran a fever. His chin softened, his lower lip twitching, and he swallowed hard. “I’ve never stopped loving her.”
Maggie nodded firmly and smiled. “I had a feeling you still might.”
“Believe me, Mags, if it were any other man, I’d consider backing down. But being who he is, I can't let her waste her life by his side. Unless she loves him?” he asked, wincing at the very thought.
Maggie shook her head in res
ponse.
Christian sat upright, squaring his shoulders, and set his jaw before speaking. “I’m not surprised. He’s always been a devious bastard and an infamous womaniser. Hardly the type to make a model husband.”
Maggie shook her head forlornly. “Believe me, he’s done worse than you could ever imagine to steal Laura from you.”
Christian put up a hand. “Look Mags, I don’t care what this man did in the past to get her. I’ve been to war. It’s hell on earth. I’ve seen enough ugliness to last me a lifetime. Whatever despicable acts he may have done, I don’t care to know. Let’s leave the past where it belongs. Now, I care only about the future. I care to make amends with the only woman I’ve ever loved and to meet my son; even if it’s taken me so long.”
Maggie felt relieved to hear all that. It meant she’d be spared from the task of telling him things she couldn’t bear revisit in her own head, let alone put them into words. “Laura feels very guilty about what happened, about the way she lost you,” it sufficed her to say, her eyes pooling with tears.
“Mags, can you please help me get in contact with her? I’ll handle the rest.”
Maggie smiled. “You came to town at the right time.”
“You mean about the Pier reopening? Eric hasn’t shut up about it ever since the news came out in the newspapers. He’s chewed half my ears about it,” he joked, lightening their mood.
Maggie grinned from ear to ear and issued a mental thank you to her cousin, who had kept his word to work his own little magic in Devon while she tried her best to encourage Laura, too. Between them, the two cousins had managed to work out a little miracle. And now, the countdown had begun. One more day and the scene would be set. “So, you know. The big day is tomorrow. Shall we say, eleven o’clock sharp at the turnstiles?”
“Meet you there!” said Christian with a wink as the waiter approached with their order.
Maggie wiped her tears and picked up the teapot to serve them both. “Unless you have something else to do? It could wait, if you’re busy,” she teased him.
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