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A Mother's Love(10)

By:Santa Montefiore


“I don’t mind,” he replied.

“All right, what about this one, then?” She plucked an especially fluffy feather and handed it to her grandson. “So what’s this project?”

“I’m collecting special things.”

“What a lovely idea. What have you got so far?”

“A feather.”

“Another feather?”

“A pheasant’s feather.”

“So, are you only collecting feathers for your project?”

“No, lots of things.”

“What else do you need? I might be able to help you.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”

“Well, when you know, come and tell me and I’m sure I’ll be able to help you.” She smiled down at him, her turquoise eyes full of affection. “Now, how about a biscuit?”

“Yes, please.”

“I thought so. Let’s go and see what’s in the kitchen. I think we might find a whole larder full of delicious things to eat.”



Celeste left the quilt in the clapboard house and walked up the garden to the cottage. She didn’t recall having left those spools of thread in rows like that. She would have tidied them away, for sure. But then, her state of mind at that time had been so confused and unbalanced she might well have left them without noticing.



She began to make the paella. Usually when Robert was at work she snacked for lunch. She had no one to look after but herself and she felt so low she hadn’t bothered even to file her nails. Yet now she had a child in the house who needed to be fed. It gave her a sense of purpose and pulled at the redundant cord that was her maternal instinct. It was a pleasant feeling to be needed. She put on her cooking apron and made a banoffee pie for good measure.

When Bruno came back for lunch, she noticed the peacock feather and knew that he had been with his grandmother. While he hurried upstairs to put it in his room, she laid the table, trying to suppress the resentment that rose like a tide in her chest because the child seemed to be happy with everyone else in the family but her.

She talked to him over lunch, making an effort to be as friendly as possible. It gave her pleasure to see him eating her paella. She asked him about Australia and whether he was excited to be moving to England. He answered in monosyllables until he tasted the banoffee pie. Then he became more loquacious, forking the pudding into his mouth in great heaps. As he tucked into a second helping he told her how his sisters didn’t want to move to England because they were unhappy about leaving their friends. “My friends come with me,” he said happily.

“That’s nice,” she replied.

“I have lots of friends.”

“You’re a sweet boy, Bruno. I’m sure everyone wants to be your friend.”

He grinned. “I like English boys. They’re funny.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, they make me laugh.”

“The English have a good sense of humor because we’re able to laugh at ourselves. Or so they say. I’m not sure I’m very good at laughing at myself. Not recently anyway.” She noticed he was frowning at her. “So, what are you going to do this afternoon?”

“I’d like to play with the trains.”

She felt light-headed as the tide of resentment was swept away by the compliment. “You want to stay up here with me? How lovely. What’s your favorite for tea?”

“Pizza.”

“That’s easy. Pizza it is, then. What do you want on top?”

“Pepperoni,” he said.

“Then that is what you shall have.”

Bruno skipped off into the playroom to play with the trains. She heard him chatting to himself as she washed up. His enthusiasm was infectious and she found herself smiling. It delighted her that he was able to amuse himself without having to rely on other children.

She telephoned Robert in the wineshop and asked him to bring home a pepperoni pizza.

“How are you doing?” He had been worrying about her all day.

“He’s very sweet. He’s in the playroom.”

“Are you okay?” He could sense her smiling down the telephone.

“I’m enjoying his company, actually. He’s a lovely little boy.”

“You’re incredibly good to have him, Celeste. I know how hard it is for you.”

“It’s not as hard as I thought it would be.” She wanted to tell him about the strange feeling she had had in the clapboard house and the spools of thread, but she didn’t want to sound desperate. She wasn’t desperate. In fact, right now, she felt more peaceful than she had been in a long time.

“I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yes, see you later.”