Never Too Old for Love

by Rosie Harris

  She patted Mary’s arm. ‘Now don’t worry and try and be patient, Mrs Wilson.’

  Mary knew the nurse was right and she really did try over the next couple of days to control her own feelings. She was concerned that she still hadn’t had a call from Megan and wondered if the time had come to ring her again.

  ‘Leave things as they are for the moment,’ Bill advised. ‘Time is dragging for you but she probably doesn’t realise that it’s been nearly a week since Richard had his accident. After all, she is working and her mind will be on what she is doing. She hasn’t seen Richard so she probably can’t envisage how poorly he is.’

  Two days later she had a fresh problem. When she called in to see Lucia and to see how little George was she found her looking very worried.

  ‘Is something wrong, Lucia?’ she asked. ‘It’s not George, is it?’

  ‘No, Mrs Wilson. George is fine. It’s about money.’

  Mary frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I have none left,’ Lucia said and shrugged helplessly. ‘No money for food or for anything else. No money for me,’ she added with a deep sigh.

  ‘I’m sorry, Lucia, but I don’t quite understand,’ Mary said.

  ‘Aah! I will try and explain,’ Lucia said. ‘All the payments for things like mortgage, rates, lighting and heating are paid for straight from the bank account, I am told, and nothing at all to do with me. Mr Wilson takes care of those. Madam provides all the money that I need to buy food for us all, and cleaning and odds and ends once a month. I have had no money from her since she went to America, in fact, none for a long time before she left. Now I have used all this money, the petty cash as she calls it, and I am having to buy the things we need from my own wages.’

  ‘So, you have been receiving your wages,’ Mary said with relief.

  Lucia shook her head. ‘No, that is the problem. You see they come out of the petty cash and there has been none from Madam since weeks before she went away.’

  ‘You just told me that you had been paying for things out of your wages,’ Mary frowned.

  ‘I can explain,’ Lucia said quickly. ‘I always save part of my wages to send money home every month to help my mother.’

  ‘Your mother?’

  Lucia gave a sad little smile. ‘My mother has been a widow for many long years and I have a sister only two years younger than me, who has been sick all her life and needs to be cared for by my mother.’

  ‘Does your mother work?’

  Lucia shook her head. ‘No, she is too old to work; she is in her eighties.’

  Mary stared at Lucia as if seeing her for the first time. She was of middle stature, with jet dark hair and an olive complexion. Her dark eyes were bright and she looked extremely healthy. There must be some mistake; her mother couldn’t be that old.

  ‘You are only in your twenties so how can your mother be in her eighties?’

  Lucia laughed dryly. ‘I am not in my twenties. I am in my forties.’

  ‘In your forties! I don’t believe it. You certainly look in your twenties … twenty-nine possibly but not in your forties,’ Mary protested.

  ‘I was forty-one on my last birthday,’ Lucia told her, ‘and my sister is thirty-nine. My mother claims she was an accident. She thought she was far too old to have any more children. She married late and expected that I would be her only child.’

  ‘Has your sister been incapacitated all her life?’ Mary asked

  Lucia looked away as if too embarrassed to explain. Then, tightening her hands into fists at her side she looked directly into Mary’s eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ she said gravely. ‘Ever since her birth.’

  She took a deep breath and Mary waited patiently for her to go on.

  ‘It was a difficult birth and my mother says it was because she was far too old for childbearing. She felt it was a punishment for saying she didn’t want any more children.’

  ‘I hardly think so,’ Mary murmured.

  ‘As a young child, Maria was different from my friends and me, but not so bad that it made any real difference. We accepted her and played with her, and she played with us. We made allowances for her because she was my sister. She was always the last no matter what game we were playing, but we accepted that because she was the baby of our group.’

  ‘So, when did …’ Mary hesitated not sure how to ask. ‘When did you become aware that she was different?’

  ‘My mother always suspected it, but it was pointed out when she went to school. At first the teacher said she was backward but, by the time it came for her to leave school, it was obvious that she would never be able to hold a job down. She had no idea of time or purpose. You could show her how to do something but five minutes later she’d forgotten all about what she had learnt. She was pleasant, smiling and happy as a child. As she grew older, and realised that she couldn’t work or enjoy herself in the same way as I did, she became rather morose and eventually very depressed.’

  ‘Didn’t your mother take her to a doctor or someone who could have advised and helped? Someone who knew about these things?’

  ‘We were very poor, my father had died and my mother had to work to keep us. My mother left her at home and told her of the jobs she wanted her to do, but very rarely did Maria remember to do any of them. When my mother returned from work she would have to prepare a meal and then do the chores that my sister should have done, but had forgotten how to do.’

  ‘And you? Were you working?’

  ‘Oh yes, I worked from the day I left school. I was training to care for children and when I got home I then helped my mother and took care of Maria.’

  ‘So, your mother has worked all her life,’ Mary said reflectively.

  ‘Yes, until she became crippled with rheumatism and was unable to work anymore. You see because she was unskilled all she could do was menial jobs, like scrubbing or washing and cleaning. When her rheumatism became very bad such work was impossible.’

  ‘Oh dear, she has had a hard life. Why did you leave home and come to work here in England?’ Mary asked curiously.

  ‘It was the money. I earn so much more here than I was earning at home. Right from the beginning I send money home to help my mother, because she couldn’t manage on her meagre pension.’

  Mary nodded understandingly.

  ‘Trying to keep one person on the pension is difficult, to keep two is impossible. It is only because I can send her money regularly that she manages. Now I have heard from her that she is desperate. They are short of food and soon the winter will be upon us again, and she has no money put aside to buy warmth.’

  ‘I understand,’ Mary said consolingly. ‘Now don’t you worry about it Lucia, I will arrange something.’

  Lucia dabbed away the tears that had sprung into her eyes. ‘Madam you are so kind, so understanding,’ Lucia said huskily as she flung her arms around Mary’s waist and hugged her.

  ‘You say Megan normally supplies the cash from which you take your wages?’

  ‘That is right.’

  ‘She provides money on a regular monthly basis and you are told to take your salary from that?’

  ‘Yes, that is so, and then I send part of my salary home to my mother,’ Lucia said with a watery smile.

  ‘Right. I’ll arrange something,’ Mary promised, ‘I will ring Megan tonight and see what she is proposing to do about it.’

  When Mary got home from the hospital that night, she told Bill about her conversation with Lucia and he was aghast.

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought Lucia was that old,’ he agreed. ‘She looks so young! She must be very worried about her sister, what a terrible problem.’

  ‘Yes! It appears that the sister, Maria, is two years younger than Lucia,’ Mary said.

  ‘I can see now why she puts up with Megan’s harsh ruling, tries to obey her every whim and is so secretive about bringing George to visit you,’ Bill said. ‘It’s because she is afraid of losing her job.’

  ‘True,’ Mary agreed.
‘She needs the money and if she loses this job she will have to go back to Italy and hope to get work there. It would not be easy for her. But, at the moment, there is no question of losing her job. We need her to look after George while Richard is in hospital, and probably afterwards because I shouldn’t imagine he will be capable of doing very much for quite some time.’ Mary hesitated for a moment then added, ‘There is also this other problem to be confronted and I am not at all sure if I am handling it as I should be. As well as not receiving her wages, Lucia is running out of money for running the household. All the main bills, the rates and things of that nature are already covered by standing order and paid directly from Richard’s bank account. But apparently, from what Lucia has said, the day-to-day running costs for food and cleaning materials and any other monies was supplied by Megan.’

  ‘So you’re going to ring Megan tonight and find out what the situation is?’

  Mary nodded. ‘You know, Bill,’ she said, ‘if Sam had had an accident I would have been spending every moment at the hospital hoping they would let me see him.’

  ‘Things are different these days,’ he told her. ‘Married couples seem to live their own lives. They have different interests, and Megan, remember, is a very ambitious lady.’

  ‘She’s certainly a very heartless one, in my opinion,’ Mary said crossly, ‘in the meantime, I’m having to give Lucia some money from my savings, so that she can send some home to her mother, then I will try and organize things with Megan. If she says things will have to wait until she comes home, then I will have to make further inroads into my savings.’

  The plans sounded feasible and Mary spent time thinking it through while she was washing up, clarifying in her own mind what she was going to say to Megan.

  Before she could pick up the phone, however, it rang and it was Megan on the other end.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  ‘I was on the point of calling you,’ Mary said. ‘There are one or two problems that need to be sorted out.’

  ‘Then you had better discuss them with Richard because I am not interested,’ Megan said sharply.

  ‘It’s about money,’ Mary persisted, ignoring Megan’s tone. She felt angry; Megan hadn’t asked how Richard was or even if little George was all right.

  ‘Lucia tells me that she hasn’t received her wages and that she is running short of money to deal with other expenses she has to meet right away.’

  ‘Then tell her to ask Richard for the money,’ Megan said shortly.

  ‘Richard is in hospital still and he is certainly in no fit state to be worried over household matters.’

  ‘Yes, well I’m not interested,’ Megan said abruptly. ‘It’s his own fault that he’s in there.’

  ‘You want me to tell him that?’

  ‘Of course I do and give him this message at the same time: tell him that I will not be coming back to England. I will be phoning Lucia and telling her to send on my clothes and other possessions.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Mary asked. ‘How long do you intend to be in New York?’

  ‘Permanently. I am leaving Richard for good. I have no space in my life for a man who will be a cripple.’

  ‘What!’ Mary gasped, unable to believe what she was hearing. ‘You say you’re leaving Richard? Oh Megan, isn’t that rather a heartless decision. Richard is very ill at the moment; he will find such news very distressing.’

  ‘This is as good a time as any to tell him,’ Megan said callously. ‘The fact that he is in hospital is his own fault. I would have been telling him anyway, but the fact that he is now going to be a cripple has helped me decide to make the break sooner.’

  ‘What are you going to do about little George?’

  ‘He’s Richard’s son so it’s up to him to look after George. I’m divorcing Richard, he will be hearing from my solicitor very shortly.’ The phone went down with an ominous clatter before Mary could say anything else.

  Slowly, she returned her own handset to its cradle, then she sat down heavily on the nearest chair. The full impact of Megan’s words and all the consequences that would follow, filled Mary’s mind like an enormous black cloud blotting out the sun. How on earth was she going to break the news to Richard? He would be devastated.

  Then there was poor little George. How would be react when he learnt that he would never see his mother again? She simply couldn’t imagine how hurt he would feel. She hoped he wouldn’t feel it was his fault. She understood that children often did blame themselves when their parents split up. Thank heaven Lucia had not threatened to leave. She understood George and would know the best way to comfort him. She must make things as smooth as possible for her after Megan told her the news, especially over her wages and money problems. Mary needed to ensure Lucia did stay on, Mary thought worriedly.

  Richard’s unfortunate accident was now rapidly becoming a nightmare for them all.

  She would have to think very carefully about how to tell Richard, that was the part that worried her the most and it was the first thing that she must do. She would talk to Bill; he was usually very level handed and might be able to offer some suggestions on the best way to handle things. She could listen to his advice, even if she didn’t take it.

  She was about to pick up the phone to ring him and ask him to come round, when it rang. She hesitated. Could it be Megan to say she had changed her mind, that she wasn’t deserting Richard after all?

  ‘Mrs Wilson?’

  The voice on the other end of the line was faintly familiar but it wasn’t Megan. It was an authoritative voice yet much softer than Megan’s.

  ‘Yes, who is it?’

  ‘This is Wexham hospital. Your son is asking for you.’

  ‘Is something wrong, has he had a relapse?’

  ‘No, nothing like that, but he does seem to be upset about something and he won’t tell us what is wrong. He says he needs to talk to you.’

  ‘I see. Well of course I’ll come right away. Has he by any chance had a telephone call?’

  ‘Yes, as a matter of fact he has. It was about twenty minutes ago and he seemed to be very distressed afterwards.’

  ‘I understand. I’ll be there as soon as I can, be so kind as to tell him I’m on my way,’ Mary said quickly. Of course he was feeling upset, Mary thought angrily. Megan had not given her the chance to break the news gently; she had phoned him direct herself. Mary could imagine the brutal way she would have told him that she was leaving him. Suddenly she hated Megan. She had always tolerated her and tried to be friendly towards her. She had never uttered a word of criticism about what she thought of as Megan’s unreasonable behaviour in neglecting her husband and child all these years.

  Mary didn’t think she could face all this on her own. Picking up the phone again she rang Bill.

  ‘Are you doing anything or can you spare the time to come to the hospital with me?’ she asked the moment he answered.

  ‘Why? Is Richard worse?’

  ‘No, not really, but he’s asking for me.’

  ‘Why? What’s happened?’

  ‘Look I’ll tell you all about it on the way there. I’ll phone for a taxi and pick you up as soon as possible.’

  Once Bill was in the taxi, Mary told him about Megan’s phone call. She kept her voice low and hoped the driver couldn’t hear what she was saying. Bill’s mouth gaped when she said that Megan was leaving Richard.

  ‘What a thing to have to tell him when he is lying on his back in hospital,’ Bill gasped. ‘It takes me back to the war years. I was a very young trainee hospital orderly and soldiers who were seriously injured frequently received such calls from their wives or girlfriends, because they couldn’t bear to think of spending the rests of their lives with a cripple. We used to call them “Dear John” letters and the poor devils seemed to lose heart for weeks after they got one.’

  ‘That’s what I am afraid has happened to Richard,’ Mary said sadly. ‘Although Megan told me to tell him, I think she may have already telephoned the
hospital and told him herself, and that is what is upsetting him so much.’

  ‘She is a heartless bitch,’ Bill muttered. ‘Fancy getting news like that when you are lying helpless in hospital and feeling as low as a snake’s belly.’

  Mary shook her head from side to side, biting her lower lip to hold back the threatening tears.

  Bill was right; Megan was heartless. She did seem to have no feeling for anyone other than herself. Mary wondered if there was another man involved. If there was, then he was probably a tycoon of some sort. Megan loved money and position. Mary could never understand why she had married Richard, except of course he was very good looking and always ready to do everything he could to let her further her career.

  ‘And what about little George?’ Bill asked cutting into her thoughts.

  ‘Megan said he’s Richard’s responsibility and it’s up to him to bring him up. She doesn’t want him and has made it clear she won’t be making any claim on him, so there’s nothing Richard needs to worry about on that account.’

  Bill let out a long whistling breath. ‘Most mothers fight tooth and nail to keep their children when the family split up,’ he said shaking his head from side to side in disbelief.

  ‘I don’t think that Megan had a very strong maternal streak. She has never been very motherly,’ Mary said sadly.

  ‘Nevertheless, very few women would give their child up like that. I know some very young unmarried mothers do it the minute the child is born because they know they won’t be able to bring it up on their own. Even then, from what one hears, they regret it for the rest of their lives.’

  ‘True, very true,’ Mary agreed. ‘Megan is only interested in her career though. She has never really had time for George. I imagine that, once he was old enough, she would have wanted to pack him off to boarding school and let someone else shoulder the responsibility of bringing him up.’

  ‘So, what are you going to tell him?’ Bill asked. ‘It’s not a job I’d like to have to do.’

  ‘No,’ Mary sighed heavily. ‘It’s certainly not one I relish. I’m not sure how he will take it.’