Legacy (9 page)

Chapter Nineteen

After months of searching Gabrielle and Max found their first home. It wasn't quite on the Malone Road, but it was situated in a pleasant residential area not far off it. It was in a development of handsome semi-detached houses with gardens front and rear and lots of young families. It was perfect and exactly what they had envisaged. When the last stick of furniture was delivered to the house, they said goodbye to their University road flat and made the move.

Fortunately Max had promised to decorate, he had often boasted of his handyman skills, his talent with a paintbrush and all things DIY. After the expense of the move and acquiring furniture, at least they would save on hiring a decorator. Gabrielle selected the paint and paper and Max took a few days off to begin work.

By day two Max's efforts contradicted his talk of his great talents. If his talent was painting floors, windows and brand new furniture, then certainly he was an expert. If his talent was turning wallpaper to bubbling shreds, then he was a genius. Yet none of his talents were what Gabrielle had in mind. Before he painted anymore furniture, or destroyed another roll of her expensive wall paper, she advised him that unless he wanted a divorce he was banned from attempting a single piece of work in the house again. Max was swiftly despatched back to work and his handyman skills thoroughly discredited. Gabrielle resorted to seeking the services of a professional decorator. It was tight but he managed to get the house finished within two weeks of the due date.

The new neighbours were lovely. They consisted of mainly young couples like themselves either starting a family or planning to. Within two weeks of moving in, they had made a wealth of new friends all thoroughly welcoming and hospitable. Gabrielle was confident that in the remainder of her maternity leave she certainly wouldn't feel alone.

They had decorated the baby's room in lemon. Gabrielle was superstitious and didn't want to know the sex; nor make too many preparations before the birth. The room was simply painted and carpeted. Anything else needed would be bought after the child's arrival.

The only thing that Gabrielle felt she could do at this stage without tempting fate was to hang the curtains. She made her way to the babies little room and began adding curtain hooks to the edge of the curtain, carefully counting in the pleats. Just as she was about to hang them, a knock came to the front door. She shuffled down the stairs making slow progress as her mobility was constrained by her enormous bump. A whole two minutes later she reached the door. Fearing that the caller would have left she didn't peak through the safety hole that Max insisted on and instead she quickly opened it. There on the door step stood her mother and father. She was astonished she didn't have any words or thoughts she just stood there wide eyed and regarded them.

“Hello Gabrielle,” her mother said “May we come in?”

Gabrielle opened the door wider, stood back and let them pass.

“Well you certainly have a lovely home,” her mother said, visibly impressed

“Thanks.”

Confused now, she asked “how did you know where I live?” She hadn't been in touch with her parents since the letter she had received prior to the wedding.

“Max,” her father said, “he wrote us a letter. He told us that you were married and that you were pregnant.”

Her mother interrupted: “we couldn't ignore the letter and we certainly couldn't ignore our first grandchild.”

“Oh,” Gabrielle was touched that Max had contacted her parents, even more touched that he had kept it to himself.

She cried, she can't say that they were tears of joy (more shock) but her parents took this as some sort of a sign because before she knew it she was inundated with hugs.

“John go and put the kettle on,” her mother demanded dismissing her father to an unfamiliar kitchen, in an unfamiliar house. Some things never change.

“It's ok, I'll do it.”

“You will not, not in your condition,” her mother demanded and ushered her to sit down.

Before long in her mother's infamous interrogation style, she had caught up on the marriage, the Catholic blessing and her pregnancy. She seemed satisfied with her findings.

Her father returned with the tea and they all talked about the impending arrival. No apologies were made. Gabrielle doubted that any would be offered. She would instead assume that the gesture of travelling all the way to Belfast was apology enough, so she let it slip.

One question still hung in the air, Max. They had not met him yet and he was due home from work soon.

“Mum, Dad, Max will be home soon,” she said.

They looked at each other but didn't make to leave.

“Grand,” her father said affecting false casualness.

Sure enough ten minutes later, the sound of Max's key in the door alerted them to his arrival.

Gabrielle held her breath as he entered the living room, her parents eyed the door.

“Well the bus was,” Max stopped mid-sentence and looked at the arrivals.

“Max, meet my parents,” Gabrielle said.

“You actually came,” Max said eyes wide in surprise, “thank you,” he added humbly.

Her father was immediately on his feet shaking Max's hand, and her mother was behind him. It was a surreal scene, something she had never expected.

“Pleased to meet you Max,” her father said.

“Hello,” her mother said.

An awkward silence ensured so Gabrielle went to the kitchen and put on more tea. She thought she would leave them alone for a while to either get acquainted or knowing her luck
and
her mother
unacquainted. She started to make up some sandwiches and took her time about it.

When she estimated that at least 20 minutes had passed and that the front door hadn't been touched Gabrielle re-entered the room. She didn't know what to expect but certainly not what she found.

She stood in the doorway and surveyed the unlikely scene. Her mother was on the edge of her seat in deep conversation with Max and her father was nodding along knowledgably. Gabrielle released a little cough and walked into the room. She sat the tray on the coffee table and busied herself serving teas; it was as if she was invisible. It seemed her mother had found a fellow conversationalist in Max, they were talking about the boring issues that Gabrielle tended to glaze over at. Yet the pair was engrossed. She looked at her father baffled and he winked at her.

Two hours later her parents left.

Gabrielle may have once found her parents racist, but when she looked at the events that occurred that day she knows they never were. Mixed race relationships have always been a contentious issue, couples this very day face difficulties and lack of acceptance. It was 1974, her parents were from the country a place where they had encountered very few, if any people of colour in their daily lives. Yet when they met Max, when they got over their previous reservations, their concern for their daughter and potential grandchildren, they bonded firmly and quickly. Her parents were never racist they were simply protective and before meeting Max filled with protective trepidation.

Two days after their reunion, Gabrielle's labour began and they were reunited once again. Gabrielle was engulfed with so much pain, that she was filled with empathy and respect for that brave, brave woman on the maternity ward in Derry. That day Alison my sister was born.

Chapter Twenty

Alison soon became completely and utterly spoiled and enjoyed by her granny, her great granny, her grandfather, her many aunts and of course her doting father. Everyone loved baby Alison; she was a regular in her grandmother's house and amongst Gabrielle and Max's circle of friends. Wherever she went she was indulged with toys, sweets, games and hours of undivided attention.

Any concerns about Alison becoming too spoilt were short lived. In the Christmas of 1975, just when order was restored to the house, Gabrielle was given a little surprise; she was pregnant again. Just when Alison was sleeping full nights in her own bed and more importantly going to bed at reasonable hour, Gabrielle was faced with reliving the whole experience again.

This time though the realisation that she was pregnant was no ordeal. She basked in the notion of carrying a little baby again. The feelings of doom and dread she had experienced just two years ago were replaced with sheer exhilaration. She was utterly thrilled at the prospect of becoming a mother again. Having Alison had shown her that she loved motherhood; that she was maternal after all. Maybe there was indeed such a thing as a biological clock because everything had changed for Gabrielle, an unmistakable something ticked inside her. The mere knowledge of having a second baby had set it off, and now it was ticking rhythmically through her very being. With each individual tick of the clock she was prodded with another little jolt of joy. A countdown had begun.

If Gabrielle was excited then Max was ecstatic. Even more promising was the fact that they were settled in a home of their own, one that had ample room to cater for another tiny person. Yes, this time around they were prepared in every sense.

Young Alison was a different story, like her mother before her; she loathed the idea of a sibling. After months of explaining the benefits of sisterhood, and not just any sister hood but
big
sister hood, they achieved success and converted Alison from a reluctant to eager big sister. Alison became more engrossed in this pregnancy than anyone else. By the time Gabrielle was due, Alison had become expectant big sister extraordinaire. She drew a new picture every day for her little brother or sisters nursery. Her parents ignored the fact that in each picture Alison was portrayed as a huge figure dominating the tiny dot that with closer inspection was to be her new sibling.

With this pregnancy Gabrielle's family were with her every step of the way, her grandmother on hearing the news had begun knitting tiny cardigans and booties. Both her mother and grandmother fed her with ‘castor oil sandwiches' before the birth and stocked up on cabbage leaves for after.

The baby was due in November; once again a lemon room was prepared. This time Gabrielle was more primed as to what to expect. The labour went as smoothly as any labour can and when she was handed the little white bundle she didn't hand it back. On birth Alison had looked every bit as white as this little girl did. Gabrielle knew to expect the pigmentation to creep into her skin over the next few weeks and for her straight downy baby hair to be replaced by a network of tight wiry curls.

Max was once again over excited about the prospect of his second daughter, so much so, that it now exceeded the excitement he had displayed on the news of his first daughter. He was so high that Gabrielle honestly believed he could have flown. His reaction was so great that this was little girl was named after him; converting Max to its female equivalent Maxine. Max was so engaged with this new arrival that it was only right that she should be named after him.

Maxine by all accounts was a lovely child; she had a gentle nature and seldom cried or caused any fuss. She was adored by all and like Alison was spoiled beyond belief. She had huge brown eyes and as she grew, her hair settled into loose brown curls. She effortlessly progressed from a good natured baby into an easy going child.

Max's parenting skills propelled him into the status of a modern man, he loved his girls, his family were his world. He devoted his free time to tutor the three year old Alison. He insisted that she would read, write and count before school; his theory was that she needed to start ahead to stay ahead. Alison to put it mildly was not as laid back as her baby sister. She was a highly strung, bad tempered child and utilised her new found voice to its full. She constantly screamed to get her own way. This personality did not combine well with her father's attempts to teach her to read and write. The pair of them would sit at the table night after night. Max would take her through the alphabet and Alison would take him through her litany of ear splitting hysterics. He availed of many different methods to entice her to learn, colourful books, art sets and even nature walks. He would take her to the park and point out flowers and trees and try to phonically coax her into grasping the alphabet. By the summer of that year Alison had only managed to recite the letters a – e and Gabrielle swore her husband's hair had grown thinner. Gabrielle found the whole situation hilarious, rather than admit defeat Max continued trying, yet it was clear to all but him that his efforts were in vain. Even so Gabrielle was impressed; such actions showed a dedication that not many fathers possessed.

Once a bee flew in the open kitchen window, little Alison immediately began to swipe at the bee and her father stopped her angrily. He knelt down and caught the bee and as it landed on the table,

“This is a little life Alison, you cannot hurt any living thing,” he said

“If you treat God's creatures nicely, they'll be nice to you,” he said as both of them studied the bee walking around his palm.

“Now watch and I'll set if free,” he got up and walked towards the window.

“Ooooouch!” he screamed jumping nearly to the ceiling,

“The buggers stung me,” he exclaimed.

“Well if you're nice to God's creatures they'll be nice to you eh Max,” Gabrielle said through fits of laughter. As for Alison one lesson and perhaps the only one she absorbed from Dad's months of tuition was that bee's sting; don't hold them in your hand.

Unfortunately, Max's love of God's creatures had not been perturbed by his sting. He had been talking about getting my sisters a dog since Alison was born, and so far Gabrielle had rebuked his pleas. She had enough to contend with two young children and work, without taking on a dog as well. Her husband worked full time so it didn't take a genius to know that Gabrielle would be left with the dog.

Gabrielle still remembered little Patch, she remembered being devastated when he died. Animals had ways of getting themselves killed from road accidents, to illness; she had no intention of inflicting death on her children. Northern Ireland had other ideas.

One day she arrived home after a late shift to see no sign of Max or her daughters. Aside from Rod Stewart's husky tones filling the empty kitchen, the house was quiet. It was then she heard gleeful little giggles coming from the garden. She went out smiling; wondering what could have filled the children with such delight. Her smile soon faded, for there was Max and her daughters with a huge dog. It was Alison, who saw her Mum first.

“Mummy, Mummy come and see, Daddies got us a dog.”

“I can see that,” she said, her voice was deadpan.

“Gabrielle meet Lucky,” said Max.

Hmm.
Lucky
evidently wasn't
lucky
by nature getting chosen by this fool she thought.

“Max, I need a word now,'' she said and beckoned him into the kitchen.

“I know, I know,” he said, “but I knew when you saw how much the girls loved him you would come around.”

“Did you now.”

He smiled that big stupid childish grin again, she had enough.

“Max, what are you playing at?” Gabrielle demanded. “Did you not think to discuss this with me first?”

He looked shamefaced,

“No because you would never have agreed.”

“Exactly, Max. There's good reason for that, just who do you will be looking after this dog.”

“Gabrielle
I will
, you know that,” he said.

“When will you be doing this Max, between your teaching the girls? When you're studying or how about when you're working all day every day.”

“I'll make time,” he said.

“Yes Max, you will indeed make time, you'll make time right now and tell those children that the doggy has to go home.”

She was furious.

“I have two children Max and a job and a house to look after and you think we need a dog,” she added.

She gave him his orders storming from the room in a rage, before adding, “I'm going to the shops, I want that dog gone, by the time I get home.”

On leaving in such a rush she realised she had forgotten her purse, she slipped back in quietly, careful not to alert anyone of her presence. She shouldn't have worried because Max was so deep in conversation he wouldn't have heard her had she entered with a brass band,

“Mum, what am I to do,” he was pleading,

One thing that annoyed Gabrielle most about Max was that he aired all their dirty laundry to her mother. Gabrielle completely enraged crept to the landing where he was sat by the phone. She snatched the phone from his hand and slammed it down.

“Since when was she
you're
Mum,” she snipped and as planned went to the shops.

When she got home that night, three pairs of pitiful eyes fixed on her morosely. As usual she was the villain, this time the one who had forced Lucky to go home.

Tensions remained high between she and Max over the next few days, but a new surprise was soon to dissolve them. This news put the argument over Lucky's demise and the general subject of canines to the back burner for quite a while.

Gabrielle was pregnant once again and by now she was so familiar with Max's jubilance that she let it wash over her. She was excited about this pregnancy too but for other reasons. Now that they had two girls she wanted a boy and she felt in her bones that this child was male. She had decided that her little boy would be named Christopher and as the pregnancy progressed she would talk to her bump referring to him by name.

It was during this pregnancy that she admitted a certain defeat. In a few months she would have three children, all aged under five. She would have to give up her career and focus on her children. The notion of no longer working didn't appal her as it once did. She had had four years' experience of motherhood and work, and already struggled to balance 12 hour shifts with two children. She knew that with three children this struggle would soon become insurmountable.

When she was six months pregnant she donned her nurse's uniform for the last time. She was struck by a little reluctance, as memories of her struggles to become a nurse surfaced, her training, the hours of studying and her parents finding the financial support she needed in tough times. Yet she had enjoyed her career, however short it was. She was sure that fragments of it could be put to good use, especially in motherhood. Perhaps when the children were at least of secondary school age and a bit more independent she could reconsider. Who knew what life would hold? Maybe she would enjoy being a mother and a home maker and never return to work; when the children were older she could be a lady of leisure.

All that she was certain of at this point was that nursing had to go. Motherhood came first for her now and that would be her focus for the considerable future. Little did Gabrielle know that she had no need to worry about giving up her career, she was fortunate in those days to have had a choice.