Maggie Page 3

  Despite having her own family, Ruby had always been seen as a member of the Wheaton family, and Maggie had always known her and loved her as if she was, but as she had got older she sometimes felt irrationally jealous of her in the way of sibling rivalry. As she watched the interaction between the two women she felt once again that Ruby was the favourite daughter, and she suddenly wanted to stamp her feet and tell Ruby what she thought of her. She wanted to tell her she was an intruder on a family occasion and that she didn’t want her or her husband and children there.

  But of course she didn’t.

  Instead she stood back with her arms folded defensively, trying her best to avoid eye contact and waiting for the inevit-able effusive greeting from Ruby, her perceived older sister.

  ‘And hello to you as well, Maggie. It’s so nice to see you again.’ Ruby smiled and headed over to her with her arms wide. ‘Every time I see you, you look more grown up. Sixteen … How did the time fly by so fast?’

  Maggie smiled back, but although her mouth smiled her eyes didn’t, and at the same time she took another step away, deliberately avoiding the inevitable hug. She felt a twinge of guilt because deep down she knew focusing all her frustrations on to Ruby was unfair, but she wasn’t in the mood to play happy families.

  All she wanted was to be with Andy Blythe.

  Ruby was an attractive woman who didn’t look at all like a wife and mother in her thirties. She had thick auburn curls which were trying to escape from the fashionable French pleat at the back of her head, and she was casually dressed in bright-red pedal-pusher trousers and a white sweater that fitted where it touched. She was not dissimilar to Babs in both features and stature, although they weren’t related and there were many years between them; both were tall and graceful with curvy waists and hips, and both had wide welcoming smiles for everyone. The two women could have easily passed for mother and daughter.

  ‘I don’t really know. How did time fly by so fast?’ Maggie eventually responded with as much sarcasm as she dared.

  As Maggie and Ruby stood opposite each other, almost in a stand-off, Babs Wheaton frowned fleetingly at her daughter, before making a big show of looking back at the Riordans’ car, which was parked up on the driveway behind their own.

  ‘And where are those boys?’ Babs asked in a long drawn out high pitched voice, peering in the car window. ‘I know they’re in there somewhere …’

  ‘I’m here.’ Johnnie Riordan, Ruby’s husband, laughed from the other side of the car as he stepped out of the driver’s seat.

  ‘Not you, you big silly! I’m looking for the little Riordans. Now, I know they’re here somewhere …’

  A child’s head popped out from the car’s rear door. ‘Boo, Aunty Babs, I’m here!’

  Again Babs Wheaton held out her arms, and the youngest boy, Russell, Ruby and Johnnie’s five year old son, jumped in for a hug, followed closely by the two older boys, Martin and Paul, Ruby’s stepsons, who were a little more formal and restrained in their greetings.

  Maggie knew Johnnie Riordan would also make a beeline for her, but she didn’t mind. She didn’t feel the same sibling jealousy towards him as she did to Ruby; he was just her tall and handsome big brother with a ready smile and a laid-back personality who was always laughing and joking with everyone.

  ‘Mags, me old darling!’ he said as he leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. ‘You’re looking gorgeous as always. How’s life been treating you?’

  ‘OK I suppose,’ she said with a hint of her first genuine smile that day.

  ‘Good. We can have a chat later and you can tell me all about it. Whatever it is, of course.’

  He winked and then turned back to the others. Maggie noticed that he then went over to his wife and put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle, almost reassuring, hug. For a moment it looked as if Ruby was about to burst into tears, but instead she sniffed and smiled at him.

  ‘I’m so pleased you’re all here,’ Babs said. ‘George is dying to see you all again. It’s just a shame Gracie couldn’t make it too. I haven’t seen her or Fay for so long, and now she’s likely to be going off abroad and leaving us all.’

  Taking yet another step back, Maggie Wheaton rolled her eyes, puffed out her cheeks and sighed loudly. She saw Ruby frown and glance in her direction, but she didn’t care; she simply sighed again and turned to walk back to the house.

  As she walked ahead she could hear Ruby and her mother talking. She didn’t look round, but she slowed her pace slightly and held her breath so she could hear their words.

  ‘Is Maggie alright? She seems a bit … I don’t know what the word is …’ Ruby asked.

  ‘Difficult? Rude? Sullen? You choose. She wanted a proper birthday party with friends and boys – one boy in particular, in fact – but we said no. She’s sulking a bit and blaming everyone for her ill-fortune, but she’ll come round. I’m sure we’re doing the right thing. She’s a good girl but still too young for boys – especially slightly older, overindulged boys.’

  ‘Maybe …’ Ruby said quietly. ‘But she’s growing up, and there’s nothing as painful as first love, if that’s what it is. It sends us all a bit mad. She’ll be fine.’

  ‘I hope so. It’s hard for everyone, and I’m sorry she was rude to you. Youngsters today see everything so differently. They think they know everything, and they think they can do whatever they want. I do try to be understanding, but there’s a limit.’

  ‘Didn’t we all know everything?’ Ruby laughed and nudged Babs affectionately with her elbow as they carried on walking. ‘I mean, I gave you a fair share of problems when I was her age, remember? More than a fair share, in fact!’

  ‘Yes, I suppose you did, didn’t you? I do forget about the different ages and phases. It seems so long ago; so much has happened since then.’ Babs Wheaton fell silent for a few moments. ‘Maybe I’m being a bit hard on her. She’s never been any trouble to us before. It’s my digging my heels in that’s upset her, I think; I usually give in.’

  ‘She’ll get over it, I’m sure, and I’m big enough to take the bullets,’ Ruby said with a slight jerk in her voice. ‘She’s a credit to you, and I don’t think you could ever be hard Aunty Babs, even if you wanted to be, not really. Hard isn’t in your nature!’

  Ruby grinned at the older woman, who laughed and shook her head as they continued walking towards the back door arm in arm.

  Maggie pretended not to hear but she seethed silently. She wanted to turn round and tell them exactly what she thought, how she hated the whole fake family thing, but, despite her rising anger, she knew that would be the wrong thing to do because her parents would never forgive her.

  Ruby Riordan, formerly Blakeley, had been a part of the Wheaton family for all of Maggie’s life and a part of George and Babs’ life ever since, as a ten year old, Ruby had been evacuated from East London out to the country at the start of the war. The childless couple had welcomed the little girl with enthusiasm, and she had stayed with them for five years: a time during which a deep bond had been formed. All these years later, they still treated Ruby as one of their own.

  As time had gone on they had welcomed Johnnie Riordan, Ruby’s husband, and his two children from his previous marriage into the family fold, and when Ruby and Johnnie’s son Russell had been born, everyone had been ecstatic and had gone out of their way to emphasize that they were all one big family.

  Only, to Maggie’s mind they weren’t family. Sometimes she resented the way George and Babs Wheaton constantly sung their praises, and that particular Saturday was one of those times. She didn’t want them there, she didn’t want to be there herself, and she was resenting every moment of it already because they were moments she could have spent with Andy Blythe.

  As they walked in through the back door which led straight into the large kitchen, the hub of the house, Ruby momentarily seemed miles away. Maggie watched surreptitiously as Ruby looked around and then gently ran her hand along the edge of the well-scrubbed, agei
ng pine table that dominated the room alongside the vast range where the kettle was simmering and several trays of cakes and scones were cooling. After a few moments she seemed to shake herself back to where she was.

  ‘Now is there anything you want me to do?’ Ruby asked. ‘I’m here to help.’

  Maggie wanted to say, Yes, I want you to turn around and go home so I can go and see Andy. But instead, desperate to get away from the gathering, she said to no one in particular, ‘I’m going out to get Dad.’

  ‘We’ll come with you, Aunty Mags,’ Russell shouted as he took hold of her hand leaving her with no choice but to head out into the garden to fetch her father with the three small boys in tow.

  ‘Ruby and her mob are here,’ she said as the boys ran over and clambered on him.

  ‘Grandpa George, Grandpa George,’ they all shouted at once.

  ‘Hello boys.’ He grinned back, but Maggie could see it was a struggle for him with three of them hanging off both his wheelchair and his neck.

  ‘Come on, get off there! You’ll break Grandpa’s wheelchair if you’re not careful,’ she said after a few moments. Her tone was sharp, but she managed a smile alongside. ‘We’re going back inside now, and Grandpa’s coming as well, so how about you all run on ahead and tell them we’re on our way. You can check they’re ready for us in the kitchen; tell Nana Babs to get that kettle boiling.’

  The boys ran off, and her father looked at her and smiled. ‘That was nice of you, Maggie. I know you’re unhappy about all this, and it wasn’t what you wanted for this birthday, but sometime we just have to grin and bear it. Your mother loves gathering everyone around her; it’s just her way.’

  ‘I know, but it’s my birthday! I’m sixteen in a few days, and I should be able to do what I want for it.’

  ‘I know, but you’ve got plenty more ahead of you when you can do what you like, so let’s all enjoy this for what it is. Sometimes we have to put ourselves second on the want list. It’s just one day, and it’s making your mother happy, so put on your best smile. She’s put you first often enough.’

  Maggie looked down at her father and realized exactly how poorly he looked. His hair had all but disappeared, and his head was covered in liver spots; his once muscular shoulders were narrow and hunched; and his eyes were rheumy and bloodshot. Tucked up in his wheelchair, with a tartan rug wrapped around his paralysed legs, he looked really old, and it saddened her.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I just get so jealous of Ruby being the favourite.’

  ‘I know you think that, but she’s not, and deep down you know it too. Your mother has more than enough love to go round, so chin up, my beautiful girl. Get me to the fray right now – I’m in the mood for a party!’

  He laughed, and Maggie couldn’t help but join in. She loved her mother deeply, but her relationship with her ever kind and gentle father had always been something extra special.

  ‘OK, let’s go,’ Maggie said as she pushed the wheelchair down the garden path back to the house.

  Once everyone was together back in the kitchen, they settled down around the table the way they always had, with George and Babs seated at either end and everyone else grouped around on either side. Laid out were cups of tea and chunks of home-made fruit cake, the traditional starter to Maggie’s birthday celebration, and from then on the day progressed exactly as Maggie had anticipated and, for the first time, dreaded, but every so often she would catch her father’s eye and he’d wink, reminding her to smile and enjoy the day for what it was.

  Babs had arranged her usual open house style party with a buffet laid out in the garden. On one side a trestle table bowed under the weight of the food, while on the other side there was a table with the drinks, which was manned by a rota of adults to keep the youngsters in check.

  The weather had been kind, and the sun shone brightly in a clear blue sky. Everything was perfect for a garden party, and at lunchtime the first non-family guests started to arrive, and from then on there was a steady stream of guests, some who were just dropping in and others who were obviously there for the duration and the sherry. Maggie knew every single person who came through the door, and she greeted them all politely as they handed over birthday cards and gifts, but she still resented what she saw as the hijacking of what should have been her day with her friends.

  And Andy Blythe.

  From the moment Andy had cycled off, Maggie had hung around the house waiting expectantly and had rushed to the hall every time the phone rang, but it was never him. So the day before the party she had written him a short note explaining that the party in the evening had been cancelled because of her father’s ill-health. Worried he wouldn’t get it in time she’d sought out the Manor House gardener, who also maintained the garden at the surgery, and asked him to hand deliver the carefully sealed envelope, preferably to Andy himself. She’d written her phone number across the top, but still he hadn’t rung.

  Maggie got through the day as best she could, but still she was distracted; she simply couldn’t get the young man out of her mind.

  She was hopelessly in love.

  Three

  Babs Wheaton looked both ways as she carefully turned off the winding country lane which led out of the village of Melton, on to the main road which went directly into Cambridge. It was Monday, Maggie’s actual birthday, but she was still sulking about the party. All she’d wanted to do was to forget about it and hang around the tennis club in the hope of seeing Andy, in the hope that he might appear with a birthday card, but her mother had insisted on the day out.

  ‘So have you decided what new clothes you want?’ Babs asked. ‘Wasn’t it good of Ruby and Johnnie to give you money on top of your present? And the watch they gave you is beautiful; why aren’t you wearing it?’

  ‘She probably didn’t want to risk losing it. The strap is a wee bit too big …’ George said quickly, his tone conciliatory. ‘Actually, we could have got it altered in Cambridge. Very silly of us not to think of it.’

  Maggie didn’t respond to either of them. Instead, she looked down and tried to avoid eye contact with her mother, who kept glancing at her in the rear-view mirror.

  ‘Come on now, you must have something in mind, Maggie. It’s a lot of money, and you could buy some really nice, fashionable clothes – I know you’re fed up with me making things for you – or even a nice piece of jewellery to keep. A necklace, maybe …’

  ‘Well, I don’t have anything in mind, I don’t know what I want and I wish you’d stop going on about it. I’ll see when we get there. I have got other money to spend, not just Ruby’s.’ Childishly, she turned her head and stared out of the window, defiantly determined not to get into conversation.

  ‘I know you have, and you got so many lovely presents. I really don’t think you should cut off your nose to spite your face, so enjoy the day out and your birthday money. I don’t think you realize exactly how lucky you are, young lady,’ Babs said, her tone still relatively genial.

  When her mother had suggested that they spend her actual birthday in Cambridge, a combination of a family lunch in a restaurant followed by a shopping expedition for her and Babs while George went off to meet an old friend from medical school, Maggie had agreed. But now they were actually on their way she was torn; she had liked the idea of a family day out with her parents to herself, but she also wanted to be wherever Andy Blythe might be, and that wouldn’t be Cambridge.

  Because of his disability, the result of polio as a child, George couldn’t drive. When he had been a practising GP, he’d had a driver to help him on his rounds and drive the family around when necessary, but now he was retired it was Babs who did all the driving. Not that she minded, especially in the new pale-blue Mercedes, her pride and joy, which was big and comfortable with soft leather seats and plenty of room in the boot for George’s wheelchair. They’d had great fun when they’d chosen it a couple of months previously; they had all gone together to the showroom, and although Babs and George had decided on the m
ake of car, they had let Maggie choose the colour. It had been a lovely day, but that had been before Andy and Maggie’s infatuation with him.

  Now the car was of no interest to her at all.

  ‘Come on, Maggie, this is really very ungrateful of you,’ Babs said. ‘You’ve got the chance of a shopping spree thanks to Ruby, and all you can do is sulk like a spoilt child. I’m disappointed in you; this should be a lovely day for us all.’

  ‘I said thank you to her. What more do you want?’

  ‘A little gratitude and a lot more good manners is what I want and expect from you. You weren’t brought up to behave like this to anyone, let alone your nearest and dearest.’

  ‘But they’re not my nearest and dearest, so why should I treat them like they are?’ She glared at her mother in the rear-view mirror. ‘All hail Queen Ruby of Southend …’ She mumbled the last words under her breath, but it was just loud enough for her parents in the front to hear.

  ‘We heard that, and that’s enough,’ George said. ‘You’re not being fair at all.’

  ‘I don’t care.’ Maggie slid back down the seat, her arms still wrapped around her chest defiantly.

  ‘I’m getting to the point of turning the car around and going straight back home,’ Babs said sharply. ‘You’re spoiling the day before it’s even started. I don’t understand why you’re being like this!’

  ‘Good. Let’s go home then.’

  ‘Oh, do stop it, Maggie, please, you’re distracting your mother,’ George said mildly, glancing round at his daughter slumped in the back seat.

  At the same time Babs looked over her shoulder to remonstrate with her daughter again, but the combination of the new, powerful car and her anger at her daughter’s behaviour made her lose her driving concentration for just long enough for the car to veer across the road, clip an oncoming vehicle and then roll into a shallow ditch at the side of the road. The car then bounced and flipped on to its side, smashing the roof against the brick wall of a farmhouse that edged the ditch.