Love Patterns

by Michael B. Malone

  Chapter 49

  Kirsty glanced over the top of her coffee cup at Claire. They’d been discussing the arrangements for the coming wedding.

  “I wonder when Alan will be home,” she moaned. “The tension is getting unbearable. Every time the phone rings or there’s a knock on the door, I expect it to be him. Surely he should have been back by now.”

  Claire reassured her. “At least you know now he will definitely be back. The military people will want all sorts of information from him, knowing he was one of the leaders of the rebellion.”

  “Surely, they’ve had enough time to sort that out,” Kirsty snorted.

  Claire shrugged. “There’s nothing we can do but wait.”

  Kirsty sighed. “I hope he got our letters, it’s going to be a shock to find out that he has a son.”

  “He’ll be over the moon”, Claire assured her.

  “I hope so.” Kirsty didn’t seem convinced. “I’m keeping my fingers crossed that he gets back in time for the wedding.”

  Claire looked serious. “It would mean a lot to me to have you both there.”

  Kirsty smiled fondly at her sister. “I hope Frank realises how lucky he is. I’ll give David his bath first.”

  She lifted David out of the pram and bouncing him in her arms and crooning to him, carried him through to her bedroom. Claire followed, to help, then returned to the lounge. The doorbell rang.

  Claire glanced at the clock and muttered. “Who can that be at this time of night?” She walked to the hall and jerked the door open. Her mouth fell, open. “Alan!” she croaked. They looked at each other. “Come in Alan,” she stuttered. She stood to one side, then shut the door behind him. He dropped his kitbag. She felt tears running down her cheeks. “Alan,” she sobbed.

  He wrapped his arms around her and said one-word, “Claire!” but in that one word, she felt his forgiveness. They held each other for a time, then she pushed herself away, wiping her cheeks with her hand. She looked at him again. There was an authority about him and his eyes! She felt as if they were gazing into the depths of her soul.

  “You’ve changed,” she observed.

  “So, have you Claire.” They were silent for a while. “Is Kirsty in?” he asked eventually. Claire felt a perverse urge to tease him.

  “She’s with a boy,” she answered. “He’s a lot younger than you.”

  Alan looked at her.

  “I’ll take you to them,” Claire said and took his hand, feeling guilty when she felt a slight tremble.

  She knocked on Kirsty’s door. There was a shouted. “Come in!”

  Claire saw Alan’s face soften at the sound of Kirsty’s voice. She pushed open the door and looked around. Kirsty was on her knees, holding David in his bath.

  “Someone to see you Kirsty,” Claire murmured.

  She pulled Alan into the bedroom. Kirsty’s eyes widened, and her mouth opened in shock. She tried to speak but all that came out was a croak.

  Alan breathed. “Kirsty.” They remained still, eyes locked onto each other. Kirsty, her heart pounding, wanted to throw herself into his arms, but she had to keep hold of David.

  Overcome, she looked down sobbing. “Alan, Oh! Alan,” over and over. Tears ran like a stream down her cheeks to plop into the water of the bath. David’s hands waved clumsily to try to catch them. She felt Alan stroke her hair away from her face, cup her cheek in his hand and kiss her.

  Her world narrowed to the remembered feel of his lips on hers. David started to whimper. Reluctantly she peeled her lips away, lifted the soaking wet baby and plonked him into Alan’s arms.

  “This is David, our son,” she sobbed.

  She watched his eyes go wide as he looked down, then he gaped at her, open-mouthed, then looked down again. She watched a slow smile then a look of utter wonder, appear on his face. She breathed a sigh of relief. Alan looked down at his wriggling little red-faced son, held carefully in the crook of his arm. His rapt gaze travelled from the fair silky hair to the chubby cheeks to the fat little tummy. He grinned at the tiny toy like penis, feeling a surge of male pride. So, this was what Claire had meant by, “They.” He pretended to glare at her. She smiled innocently. He looked back at David’s pale blue eyes.

  “Hello,” he murmured. David’s face dimpled in a smile. He felt an explosion of sheer joy and glanced at Kirsty.

  “He’s beautiful,” he murmured. She smiled radiantly.

  “I’ll take over,” Claire offered looking at Kirsty. “You take Alan into the kitchen, make him a coffee.”

  She held out her arms, and Alan surrendered the baby carefully into her care. Kirsty clutched his arm as if she was afraid that he would disappear if she let go. As she guided him out of the bedroom, her questions tumbled over each other. He watched her take a deep breath and get control of herself. She shut the door behind her and threw herself at him, almost bowling him over.

  She hung tightly onto his neck sobbing. “Alan.” Trying to smother him with frantic kisses. Alan stroked her hair then kissed the parted lips. The softness started his heart hammering in his chest. He held her head against his chest while he buried his face in her hair and rubbed a handful against his lips savouring the fresh scented fragrance.

  “I’ve dreamed of this moment,” he sighed.

  Kirsty eventually pulled away with a huge sigh. She looked up and stroked his face.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  “Maybe a sandwich?” he replied. She smiled and dried her wet cheeks against his chest then took his hand and led him to the kitchen.

  “You’re staying?” she asked as she bustled around.

  “If that’s alright with Claire?” He looked at her.

  “Claire’s changed,” Kirsty informed him as she buttered slices of bread. “Did you get our letters?”

  “No, things are still pretty chaotic over there.”

  “Did you come straight here?”

  Alan described his plane journeys.

  “You’ll have to tell us all about your adventures tonight.” She glanced at him. “Do you want to phone your Mum and Dad?”

  Alan smiled at her. “Maybe later. For the moment I just want to look at you.” Kirsty smiled back, her eyes drinking him in.

  She placed a plate of sandwiches in front of him, then a moment later a mug of coffee. She sat on his lap and kissed the side of his neck and his ears, savouring the remembered smell of her mate, the feel of his skin and hair.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” she breathed huskily.

  She pulled his head back roughly by his hair and kissed him full on the mouth, aching with longing. She explored with the tip of her tongue, reviving her memories of his mouth, tasting the masculinity of him. David’s hungry cry came from the hall. She stood up regretfully, as Claire peeped in the door, holding a screaming David, his face purple and contorted with rage.

  She grinned at Alan. “Just like a man getting in a temper if he doesn’t get what he wants right away.” Kirsty took the baby in her arms, crooning nonsense words to soothe him, sat down and unbuttoned her blouse.

  “I’ll tidy up the bedroom,” Claire called over her shoulder as she left.

  Alan watched attentively while he ate, as Kirsty held David up to her breast. The baby’s head rooted frantically from side to side, then he found what he wanted, the purple in his face changing immediately to pink. Kirsty looked down, her face soft, her fingers stroking the thin fair hair on David’s head, a gentle smile curving her lips as he gave small gurgles of contentment, his tiny fingers twisting and playing with her hair. Alan was entranced.

  “If only I’d known,” he said. “I would … “

  “I know,” Kirsty interrupted. She stroked him with her eyes.

  Alan gasped. He felt himself falling into their depths. She held out her hand to include him. He moved his chair closer and leaned towards her. She rubbed her cheek against his.

  “I called him David, your middle name and your Dad’s first name. Is that all right?”
<
br />   “It’s perfect,” he assured her.

  “I called for you when he was being born,” Kirsty said. “I saw you and heard you. You shouted that you were coming.”

  “I did, I felt your pain and saw you as clear as day. That’s what brought me to my senses.”

  They looked at each other for a while. Caressing one another with their eyes. Kirsty continued. “Dot visited, she told me what had happened. How could you have believed it Alan?” He tried to remember how he had felt, but it seemed so long ago.

  “I think that I went a bit mad.”

  Kirsty looked serious. “We all thought you were dead. I almost killed Claire when I got your letter.”

  Alan touched her hand. “I’m sorry.”

  She decided that now was as good a time as any to confess. “I think it might have been my fault Alan. Do you remember the field in Glen Clova?”

  Alan smiled. “How could I ever forget it.”

  She continued. “I did something to you,” she paused. “But I didn’t know I was doing it.” Alan looked even more puzzled. She told him the whole story about Claire, and Mr. Munro.

  He looked dazed. “While I was going half mad on an island in the marshes you were all fighting a psychic battle for my sanity!” Kirsty smiled and nodded.

  She looked down. David had fallen asleep. She wiped his mouth, put him over her shoulder and patted his back. Alan looked reflective.

  “Mr. Munro is a strange old bird. My father knew him in Kenya. There’s some secret they both know but won’t talk about, some tragedy.”

  Kirsty remembered her vision of a little black girl and a grave in Africa.

  “He said that we were both parts of the same pattern.” She saw wonder appear in his eyes. They were interrupted by a loud burp from David. Kirsty buttoned up her blouse. “Alan?” her voice was husky.

  “Yes darling,” he stroked her flushed cheek.

  She murmured coyly. “I get randy whenever I feed David.”

  Alan took a sudden deep breath. “We’d better do something about that then.”

  “I’ll get Claire to look after David tonight,” she said as she watched Alan’s face soften as he looked down at the sleeping baby.

  She rose, found Claire in the lounge and asked her to look after David. “We are going to bed.”

  Claire grinned. “Of course. I presume you don’t want to be wakened tomorrow?”

  Kirsty grinned back as she left. “Thanks Claire.”

  Claire heard Kirsty’s bedroom door shut. She gave the pram a rock. “I suppose I’ll have to be your Mum for a while David. Let’s hope they surface before I have to wheel you down the aisle with me.” She gave the pram another rock, smiling at the sleeping baby. “What do you think of your Dad then?” She thought about some of the men she’d known and spoke to. David as a representative of his sex.

  ‘You can be so nice once you realize we like you, and drop your guard and start to trust us. You have such a lovely sense of humour, you can even laugh at yourselves.’ She thought for a while. ‘There can be a kind of dignity about you.’

  She stared into space and thought of Alan and someone she’d known a long time ago. What goes wrong between men and women, once they get married? Why do we see older women crying at weddings? Why does that wonderful first flush of love fade away? She remembered Mr. and Mrs. Munro. So much had happened since she’d died. She remembered the way that they had looked at each other.

  “Why can’t it be like that? Instead of a little dumpy woman with purple hair shouting at her man for coming home late from the pub.”

  She pictured Mrs. Munro. She’d been beautiful even in old age. She thought of the handful of happy women she’d known. They’d been loved, and they’d basked in it and it had changed them. She gave the pram another rock.

  “Do you know David, love changes a woman? It makes her beautiful.”

  She thought for a while. ‘I wonder if deep down that’s what we really want from a man?’ She gave the pram another rock. ‘That’s what it will be like for your Mum and Dad. I love that girl, and him. I’ve been lucky, I’ve had a sister and a daughter, all in one.’

  She sat smiling for a while, reminiscing then she stood. “I must be getting old,” she muttered. She glanced into the pram at David sleeping peacefully. “Let’s get off to bed.” She pushed the pram to her bedroom. A few moments later she reappeared to make a short phone call to Alan’s parents.

  As she climbed into bed she thought again of love. What had Mr. Munro meant when he said, “Love is its own eternity?” Still puzzled, she lay back.

  She heard a faint singing. ‘No! Not exactly singing,’ she thought. It was more like when an orchestra tunes up and there is discord with snatches of harmony in between. It puzzled her, but something about it affected her and attracted her, as if there were answers waiting to be discovered, but somehow, they were just out of reach. She wondered again about her feelings for Alan. She loved Frank, but she felt something deep inside her that wanted to be close to Alan. As if he was somehow part of her. Still trying to puzzle things out, she fell asleep.

  Chapter 50

  Kirsty held Alan’s head to her breast as he slept, basking in the warm glow of satisfied passion. She’d watched him struggle to keep his eyes open, but exhaustion had claimed him. She felt guilty, she’d aroused him again and again. As she stroked his hair, she looked at the changes in his face. There were lines that weren’t there before. and he was thinner and tanned, but apart from that he was the Alan she remembered. Except for his eyes, there was something new in them. He was like a hawk. And had the aura of authority!

  She imagined the years ahead. They would get married and never part again, and if he had to go abroad she would never let him go alone, even if it meant her carrying her children Red Indian fashion, on her back. She stroked his face and hair again, thinking of David and the miracle of love. She switched the light off and fell asleep with Alan’s head held in the circle of her arms, her lips touching his hair.

  She woke, to the warmth of him next to her and lay looking at him for a while, savouring the moment and feeling a deep contentment. She rose and found David in his pram outside the door, sleeping peacefully, with a note from Claire to say she’d fed and changed him before she had left, and that she’d phoned Alan’s parents. She snatched a quick breakfast then had a bath. After a leisurely soak, she replaced the clothes Alan had been wearing, with the clothes he’d given her when he left for Iraq. He was still sleeping so she decided to make some phone calls.

  “Hello?” Isobel answered.

  “It’s Kirsty.”

  “It’s Mum. I can tell by your voice that everything is all right.”

  Kirsty laughed. “He’s a bit thinner, he’s tanned and a bit older looking, but apart from that, he’s the old Alan.”

  “What did he think of David?”

  “He was over the moon!” Kirsty assured her.

  “I knew that he would be.”

  “He’s still sleeping. He’s pretty tired after his journey.”

  “We’ll come up tomorrow for a short visit, and bring some clothes,” Isobel said. “Is that all right?”

  “Of course,” Kirsty, paused “I’ll ring Katie now. I’ll get Alan to phone you when he wakes up.”

  She phoned Katie and Andrew and Professor Grant at the university, who were delighted to hear that Alan was back and asked her to tell Alan to contact them when he had the time. She also phoned Shelagh to thank her for her help and support, and Dot to thank her for all she’d done for Alan. She suggested that she might like to come to their wedding, to which Dot, sounding delighted, agreed.

  Kirsty promised to get Alan to phone.

  She set the table in the kitchen and prepared a huge breakfast, ready to cook; then glanced into the bedroom. She knelt at the side of the bed, looking at Alan, then took off her clothes and snuggled into him enjoying his warmth, the feel of his body next to hers. After a while his breathing started to change. His eyes opened. a
nd her heart sang as she watched his slow smile. They didn’t speak, but their eyes spoke as they gazed at each other, touching each other’s faces

  “Are you hungry?” she murmured eventually.

  “I could eat an elephant!”

  “You have a bath, and I’ll cook you the biggest breakfast you’ve had in your life,” she promised. She found her dressing gown, and left to run the bath.

  After a long soak, pink faced and refreshed, Alan followed the tantalizing smell of frying bacon to the kitchen.

  “Sit here,” Kirsty ordered, indicating a chair, and placed a huge plate overflowing with bacon, eggs, tomatoes and fried bread before the drooling Alan. He tucked in, while Kirsty watched.

  Eventually he pushed his plate away exclaiming. “I’m going to burst! That’s my first decent breakfast in nearly a year.”

  Kirsty smiled. “I phoned your Mum, Katie, Dot, Andrew and Professor Grant.”

  Alan smiled. “You’ve been busy.”

  “I told them you’d phone them when you woke up.”

  Alan left while Kirsty cleaned up the kitchen. He phoned his mother, Katie and Andrew then apprehensively dialled Dot’s number. He heard Dot’s voice.

  “Hello Dot,” he ventured.

  She scolded. “You promised that you wouldn’t do anything stupid. I should have stayed with you. I would have got you back even if I had to carry you.”

  “But things worked out okay. Maybe I needed the time in the marshes.”

  “Kirsty kept me informed. I thought that you were going to take over in that damned country.”

  “The reports were a bit exaggerated, Dot.”

  “I’ll have to come and visit, there’s so much I want to ask.”

  “You’ll be welcome any time Dot. Thanks for being my friend.”

  “It was a privilege Alan.”

  “I’ll phone again, and we’ll have a really long talk Dot.”

  “Do that Alan please.” They said their goodbyes and rang off. When he came back looking serious.

  Kirsty asked, “Something wrong?” Alan looked at her.

  “No,” he answered. “It’s just that …”. He hesitated, “I don’t deserve to have so many real friends.” She smiled fondly at him.