Music from Home

by Geraldine O'Neill

  She felt anxious enough already about her father buying the horse, and her fears about his irresponsibility with money had once again been confirmed. She now knew for certain that he had bought a horse he could not afford – and that he had taken out a loan to pay for it. And she now reckoned that, in the process, he had somehow got himself involved with people who were checking out the house they lived in.

  Chapter 12

  When the bus pulled up at her stop, Maria boarded it and went into the lower deck to sit at the back. She stared out of the window, hoping that no one she knew would sit beside her. She tried to relax and relive all the lovely memories of the previous night with Paul Spencer, but they were overshadowed by this new worry at home.

  Apart from being tired after her disturbed night, she had a dullness in her head and an ache low down in her stomach which she recognised as symptoms of an approaching period. She usually got these signs a day or two before she bled but, knowing her luck, it would probably arrive today when she had no sanitary towels in her bag.

  As she walked along the avenue towards the main building of the school, Maria barely glanced at the groups of pupils she passed. Her first class was Maths and it was in a smaller building at the end. As she got closer to it she spotted the half dozen or so girls she was friendly with, in a huddle beside the wall. There, in the middle of them was Stella. She was, Maria thought grimly, probably regaling them all with the story of the night before.

  “Maria! Maria!” Stella called excitedly when she saw her friend.

  Maria walked slowly towards them.

  The tallest of the girls, Amanda, came to put her arm around her. “We’ve just been hearing all about your night out with the two fabulous boys!”

  “Lucky things!” another girl said.

  Maria rolled her eyes. She didn’t feel like playing to the gallery. “It wasn’t that big a deal – it was just a night out at the pictures.”

  “Listen to her!” Stella said, nodding around the others. “It was much more exciting than that!” She laughed. “We were in a café and then a pub, even before we went to the cinema, weren’t we?”

  “Yes, Stella – we were.” Maria’s tone was flat, but she couldn’t help it.

  “I was just telling everyone that Tony is a bit like James Dean, isn’t he? And I was saying how good-looking Paul is as well. He’s the typical tall, dark and handsome type.”

  “They both sound absolutely gorgeous,” Amandasaid. “Like film stars.”

  Maria wrinkled her brow. “I wouldn’t go that far . . . but they’re nice enough.”

  “I thought you really liked Paul?”

  “I didn’t say I don’t like him – it’s just a bit of an exaggeration to say he’s like a film star.”

  The girls looked from one to the other, then the bell rang for the students to line up in the various classes. When the group began to disperse, Stella approached her.

  “You don’t seem yourself this morning, Maria. I was just wondering if everything was okay after we left you with Paul last night?”

  Maria fiddled with the fastener on her schoolbag “It was fine, thanks.”

  “Did he ask you to see him again?”

  “Yes . . . we’re going out together on Saturday.”

  Stella’s eyes lit up. “Is it the all-night party too? Has Paul asked you to go to that with him?”

  Maria looked at her coldly. “No, it’s not the all-night party. And if Paul asked me to go to it with him – I wouldn’t.”

  “But why not? It would be great if we all went out together again.”

  “Well, I don’t think it’s great. First, I’m not going to put myself in the position of being with a boy all night, and secondly I think you and Tony would be better off with your own company.”

  “What’s wrong with you? Why are you being so snappy with me?”

  “Because I think the way you behaved in the cinema was totally embarrassing.”

  There was a hush, then Stella spoke slowly and quietly. “What do you mean?”

  “I think you know perfectly well. It’s up to you what you do privately, but if anyone sees you then you’ll get a terrible reputation.”

  “What do you mean?” Stella repeated, her voice rising.

  Maria clenched her jaw, annoyed at being forced to spell it out. “The way you were letting Tony touch you . . .”

  Stella looked as if she had been slapped. “That’s a complete exaggeration – I don’t know what you think you saw, but it was nothing serious. It was harmless, light petting – which is normal for a lot of couples.”

  “But it was your first date, Stella, and you were in a public place. What is he going to expect at an all-night party with no adults around?”

  “Tony’s not like that.”

  “I think you’re being a bit naïve. He’s a few years older than you and he’s been around a lot more.”

  “You sound as though you have a very low opinion of the two of us!” Stella’s tone was wounded.

  Maria looked her square in the eye. “That’s not true – I just think you need to be more careful.”

  “Miss Maxwell and Miss Conti!” one of the male teachers yelled. “Kindly discontinue your conversation and pay attention. Your class has gone into the building without you and you didn’t even notice.”

  They moved quickly towards the door without saying another word.

  Several times during the morning, Stella brushed past her in the class without looking in her direction, and each time Maria pretended that she hadn’t noticed. Then, when the Maths class was finished and they were heading out into the yard at the morning break, Stella announced to no one in particular that she was going down to the art block as she needed to get some materials for her craft project. Maria let her go off on her own without saying anything, when she usually would have followed her and sorted out their differences.

  If it was possible, Maria now felt worse than before she had said anything to Stella. She now had two situations weighing on her mind. Certainly, her father buying the horse was more serious, but the situation with Stella was serious enough in that she had to say something to her friend or it would eat away at her. She knew she had probably handled it clumsily but, the way she felt she didn’t really care.

  Having skirted around each other for most of the day, Maria was surprised when Stella came up to her place at the back of the room when the last class – French – had finished that afternoon. She perched on the desk beside Maria while she finished packing her books away.

  “It’s your dad’s turn to pick us up for ballet today, isn’t it?” Stella was smiling as though nothing had been said earlier on.

  “Yep.” Maria rearranged the books and pens in her bag to give the other girls time to leave the classroom. If things had been more normal between them now, she might have said to Stella that she was thinking of giving up ballet lessons. She would wait now.

  “Listen, I’ve thought about what you said – and you’re right. I know you were just being a good friend, speaking truthfully to me . . . and I’m glad you did say it, because you are the one person who knows the type of girl I really am and I wouldn’t want you to think badly of me.”

  “I don’t think badly of you and I don’t want anyone thinking that I’m some kind of judge and jury.”

  Maria’s shoulders relaxed for the first time since leaving the house that day.

  “It’s nice of you to say that.”

  They both started moving towards the door.

  “I’ve gone over and over it in my mind, and I think it might have been what we drank in the pub.” Stella shrugged. “I think it must have gone straight to my head and then I didn’t realise that I’d got a bit carried away with Tony. You see, I’m not used to drink at all. I know you’re more used to it, because your dad lets you have a glass of wine, but my mother and father are more old-fashioned and strict and they wouldn’t let me touch it. You know what they’re like – they only let me have a tiny sherry or a shandy
if it’s Christmas or some kind of special occasion.”

  Maria smiled, in spite of the memories of last night. “I suppose it’s something that can take a while to get used to . . .”

  She wished her father hadn’t got too used to it though. She wished she could confide in Stella or one of her other friends, but she felt it would be betraying her father. Everyone loved him and up until this he had an unblemished reputation in both his business and personal life, and Maria desperately wanted people to keep holding him in that high esteem. She didn’t think she could bear it if she told her friend about her concerns and then Stella told her parents and the secret gradually dribbled out. It was the same with Mrs Lowry. She might start worrying about him again and repeat all the nonsense about him getting married or something like that. Besides, she hoped there was every chance that her father might soon get over this stupid drinking phase without anyone else needing to know about it.

  “I’m going to be more careful in the future,” Stella said now, “if Tony suggests going into pubs or anything like that.”

  “What about the party tomorrow night?”

  “I’ve decided not to stay all night,” Stella told her. “I think it’s too risky and, anyway, my mother won’t let me stay out all night unless she thinks I’m staying at your house. If I say it’s one of the other girls from the ballet class, she’ll insist on meeting them and speaking to their mother or father.”

  There was a small silence during which Maria wondered if her friend wanted her to lie for her and pretend she was staying at her house. But it passed without anything more being said.

  “For some reason,” Stella said, “my mother believes she can’t trust me to behave like an adult. She is so old-fashioned and fuddy-bloody-duddy!” She then gave an embarrassed laugh. “Well, maybe if she saw me the other night with Tony, she might have a good reason to think like that.”

  Maria laughed now too and they both linked arms and walked down towards the gate where Leo was waiting for them.

  He was cheery and normal and, as soon as the girls were settled in the car, he swung around towards the back seat where Stella was sitting and said, “Did Maria tell you our good news?”

  Stella looked at her.

  “No, Dad,” Maria said. “I forgot all about it . . .”

  Leo shook his head and smiled. “We’ve bought a racehorse, Stella. Isn’t that something?”

  “Wow!” Stella said, looking really impressed. She nudged Maria and looked at her with wide, reproachful eyes. “How could you forget something as exciting as that?”

  “I meant to tell you. My mind was full of the exams and everything.”

  “That is understandable,” her father said. “Your exams are much more important.”

  Leo smiled warmly at her, but she recognised a hurt tone in his voice because his achievement of owning a racehorse meant so little to her. She listened now with some discomfort as he went on to tell Stella all about Bella Mariaand how she would be running her first race in York in two weeks’ time.

  Stella was impressed. “That’s fantastic! Imagine having a horse called after you!”

  “Well, my lovely daughter is the most important female in my life.”

  “Well, she’s very lucky. Most girls I know would feel very honoured to have something named after them. If it was me I would be bragging about it to everyone.” She turned to Maria. “You’re too modest for your own good.”

  When she saw her friend’s earnest face, Maria just gave a self-conscious shrug.

  “Everyone has a different nature,” Leo said philosophically, and she felt a stab of guilt for not being more grateful.

  “Actually, Leo,” Stella said, “I bet some of the people at the stables would love to go to watch her race.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Leo said. “Why don’t you girls organise a group to come and support Bella Maria sometime?”

  Maria sat in silence, staring straight ahead. She could not imagine anything worse.

  “Maybe we could hire a small coach like we do for the show-jumping events,” Stella suggested. “We’ll tell the instructors, and I’ll bet Paul Spencer’s father will be going anyway, because he used to be a jockey.”

  “He goes to most of the races,” Leo said. “I have often seen him there.”

  Stella leaned forward and prodded Maria on the back. “You should tell Paul about it when we have our lesson tomorrow morning.”

  Maria looked over her shoulder and shot her friend a warning glance, but Stella just smiled back at her. A day’s outing to the races with Tony there for a bona fide reason would be right up her street. It dawned on Maria that it was pointless being annoyed as Stella would have no understanding of the anxiety she felt about Bella Maria. Stella constantly commented that she envied her perfect life with only one indulgent, easy-going parent to deal with.

  “I’ll pick you up at half past six,” Leo said, “and I’ll make sure that Franco has a nice big pizza and chips ready for you both.”

  Friday was always cheese and tomato pizza or fish for the girls in the restaurant, due to the Catholic Church rule on abstaining from meat that day.

  Maria smiled at her father. He was so good in so many, many ways. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You think I’m going to run a restaurant and not feed my own daughter?” he joked.

  The warm look in his eyes tugged at something deep down inside her, and she had to turn her head away.

  They got out of the car and ran up the stairs of the big old house in Didsbury. They went along the tiled corridor and, just as she put her hand on the heavy interior door of the ballet practice room, Maria turned towards her friend.

  “This is the last thing I feel like doing today . . . I wish I hadn’t come.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” Stella asked, pulling her to a standstill. “It’s ballet – the best class of the week. And it’s Friday –and we’re going straight from here to Leonardo’s.” Her brow wrinkled. “Are you not feeling well or something?”

  Maria shrugged. “I just feel everything is changing . . .”

  “How? Are you still annoyed at me because of last night? Is it to do with me and Tony?”

  “No . . .” There was a sigh in her voice and she suddenly felt her eyes starting to fill up. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me . . . I’m just being stupid . . . it’s probably just my period coming.”

  “When are you due?”

  “This week some time. I’m never exactly sure of the date – it changes every month.”

  Stella clicked her fingers. “That’s exactly what it is. I bet you’ll be fine by tomorrow.” She grinned. “And don’t forget you have your date tomorrow night to look forward to.”

  Maria thought of Paul Spencer and was grateful when she felt her spirits lift a little.

  Chapter 13

  Diana Freeman had just carried a mug of cocoa and a plate with two digestive biscuits into the sitting room when she heard the heavy thud of the brass knocker on the door. She glanced at the clock and wondered who was calling at eight o’clock at night. She put the mug down on the small side table by her chair at the fire, and went out into the hallway.

  She was startled for a moment when she saw a face looking in through the stained-glass panel at the side of the door, and then she heard a voice calling and she realised it was Jane Maxwell.

  She unbolted the door.

  “Sorry for calling so late,” Jane said, when the door opened. “I hope I’m not disturbing you. You don’t have company or anything?”

  “No, no, it’s okay. Come in.” Diana led the way down to the sitting room, trying not to read anything into Jane’s comment about her having company.

  “I didn’t get a chance to pick up the slacks and tights as I ended up having to go into the office for the last few days. Richard’s full-time secretary has had dreadful trouble with a wisdom tooth she had taken out. By the sound of it, I think she has an abscess or something like that.”

  “No proble
m,” Diana told her. “I was just having cocoa and some biscuits, if you’d like to join me? Tea, coffee, cocoa?”

  “I don’t want to put you to any trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble at all.”

  Jane looked at the mug and smiled. “The cocoa looks lovely.”

  “It won’t take two minutes to boil another cup of milk. Actually –” she lifted her untouched mug, “you have this one and I’ll make myself another.”

  Jane sank down on the poppy-decorated green sofa with the metal legs. “If you’re sure I’m not intruding, that would be absolutely lovely.” She glanced around her. “Your place is bright and modern compared to ours, so full of colour. I’d love to have some of these new-style pieces.”

  “Lots of the furniture shops in Manchester have this sort of thing in now.”

  Jane shook her head. “It would look ridiculous in our house – our stuff is so ancient. I wouldn’t know where to start modernising it. And I don’t think for one minute that Richard would be keen on me making any big changes. He’s an old-fashioned man at heart and likes having the same things he grew up with around him.”

  “There’s a lot to be said for the old solid stuff too and all the memories they bring. Right – I’ll go and make that cocoa. Help yourself to a magazine while I’m in the kitchen.”

  Jane took the current issue of Vogue from the glass-topped coffee table and placed it on her lap, then she liftedthe mug of hot cocoa and took a sip. “God, this is so lovely. And even lovelier to have it in such peaceful surroundings.”

  Diana smiled at her and went into the kitchen thinking that the way Jane openly enjoyed how she did things was probably the main reason she liked her. There were so many of her married friends who treated her as an afterthought, as though she had little in common with them after Brian had gone. And whilst Jane’s favourite topic was how to find a suitable man, which was annoying, most of the time she was actually good company and brightened things up.