Proserpina
When I woke up to the familiar need to throw up, I was feeling drained. Leaning against the bathroom wall, I sighed. My life was unravelling and I had not contacted my colleagues at the Buddhist Centre all week. The blog remained un-updated too and I sighed, the tears trickling down my cheeks.
Worse, I missed the feel of Lucien in the bed beside me; his warm, reassuring presence, the way he would take me in the morning, rolling over on top of me even as I came out of the throes of sleep, the exquisite feel of his stubble against my body, his shaft urgently digging into me before plunging inside …Yes, I missed it all.
But I was damned if I was going to mope. I had to be strong, had to fight.
*
Splashing water on my face, I determined to look my best today; Lucien was going to bring his ‘son’ and his former playmate here this evening for dinner; a terse message had arrived on my phone to that effect. Well, I was going to be prepared for it, I thought, thrusting out my chin.
It was still early as I padded across to the terrace and stood, watching the dawn. The early shades of pink and lavender, blending into the darkness and the reds that emerged, magnificent, I thought as I stood hugging my waist. Making up my mind, I took out my yoga mat and walked down to the lawn.
A few of the men patrolling the lawn greeted me, surprise flashing in their eyes as I sought out the isolated spot I always chose for my yoga exercises. Facing the rising sun, I shut my eyes, sitting in the traditional lotus pose and purposefully shut my mind to any other thought. I was not going to collapse in a mess of tears. I would be strong.
*
Camille had a cup of my favourite fragrant chamomile tea ready and waiting when I went back to the house. We sat at the long table in the kitchen, sipping. She knew, of course, how could she not? After all, Beston was her husband.
I sighed and pushed my damp hair off my forehead.
“You need to check your BP,’ she said firmly, ever the nurse and I glanced up.
I smiled and reached out to hold her hand. We sat in silence till Beatrice came bustling into the kitchen. She took one look at me and nodded. ‘Way to go, gal.’ she said smartly and I dimpled at her. I knew she had guessed that I was going to stand up and fight with dignity.
*
The day slipped by , slowly enough. My children, all seven of them were in the house . But unlike the times this did happen earlier, they were subdued and almost silent. Tara spent the morning playing on her piano, Mozart was the composer of the moment and she kept trying to play something from The Magic Flute, again and again. Finally, Claude stomped up to her and I heard him yelling that she was playing something that sounded like a requiem for the dead.
Before I flew across to the living room , I heard Paddy and Piers intervene. Hands on my hips, I stood in the doorway as Ria pulled her young sister into her arms, glaring at Claude. The boys, Dom and Louis stood to the side, bewildered.
Stepping into the room, I said quietly,
‘ Claude…’ He whirled on me,
“Mumma, she…’ I shook my head and smiled, as I took a deep breath and spoke softly, cuddling Tara who had rushed into my arms.
“You are my strength, my dearest children. We are all a little upset, okay, very upset now. I shall not stand by and watch you squabbling. I love you…,’ and squaring my shoulders, looking them in the eye, I went on,
“So does your father.’
Piers made a jerky movement and spun away but I walked over to him and gripped his upper arms, willing him to look at me, this young man who had such a clear-cut map regarding his future. His handsome face was hard but I saw the despair in his eyes as he finally met my eyes.
“Mumma…’ he said in a gruff voice. Ria had come to stand by him, slipping her arm though his.
They were taller than me but Piers stood the tallest.
‘Mumma, how could he have done that to you?’ he blurted out, his eyes bloodshot and full of pain, “We have only seen him…he looks like he cannot have enough of you…and yet?’
I smiled tiredly.
‘We were going through a rough time then, Piers, and we did not know if we loved each other at all…’ I whispered softly. Then, meeting his eyes, I said in a stronger voice,
‘I want us to be a strong family, all together in this.’
Straightening my spine, I went on in a clear, loud voice,
“Your father is bringing …Him…your…uh…brother… here to meet us for dinner.’ I squeezed the hard muscle of my eldest son’s arm as I went on, looking at the circle of faces that had gravitated towards us, solemn and unsmiling.
‘No one misbehaves, is that clear?’ There was a pause. Then the irrepressible Claude declared in a mock-solemn voice,
‘Orders shall be obeyed, oh Chief.’ Tara giggled, her head of short blonde curls bobbing as she hugged Ria. The kids relaxed visibly. When I showed that I was calm and accepting of the situation, they were also beginning to thaw.
I turned to leave as Ria rushed to me, throwing her arms around me as she said,
“Mumma, I love you . And Pappa.’
I sighed.
“I love him too,’ I whispered sadly.
*
I went to the kitchen and supervised the dinner, putting the final touches for a large , lavish dinner. After all, I told myself in a brittle way, Lucien was bringing his Son home.
So I had put together a Balsamic Chicken roast, seafood stuffed salmon fillets, which were a favourite among the children and of course, Lucien’s favourite beef soup. To add to that, I had also prepared drop biscuits with sausage gravy. After a lot of soul searching, I decided to prepare a light vanilla cake, vanilla custard, and chocolate ganache the Boston cream pie. Beatrice looked at the spread and scowled.
‘You should have ordered takeaway,’ she grumbled but I had been adamant. Besides, it was not often that all my children were at home together. And the dishes were all favourites of my kids.