Chapter Eight Maureen’s House
Chapter Eight
Maureen’s House
Andrzej clucked over his adored wife as he helped her out of the car and into their comfortable, messy home.
On the drive back from the beach after her swim with the rest of the Selkies, he had regaled Maureen with stories of his morning.
He’d been taking a look at the Old Manse in Birsay to give the new owners some help and advice.
They had come up from the south, with all sorts of plans to turn it into a family home but the whole place was tumbling around their ears.
Andrzej told her: “He’s a good man and has lots of enthusiasm. We had a long chat about the history of the Brough of Birsay and the archaeological dig that was going on there. He was very interested.”
Maureen smiled to herself and felt sorry for the poor fella who would have been subjected to the entire ancient history of Birsay in great detail whether he wanted to hear it or not.
Andrzej rattled on, “As soon as they got here last month, they walked from the house across to the island, at low tide of course. He said the children loved seeing the puffins on the cliffs, but he really had no idea of just how important a location it was. So I put him right. He seemed really grateful and said he would tell his wife all about it. She’s just got a job in town as a solicitor. ”
Once inside, he helped Maureen take her coat off, plumped up the cushions and settled her on the sofa. He threw another log on the fire and said happily, “I’ve a stew on the stove for our tea. It’s your favourite, and I made dumplings.”
“I’m sorry, love. I’m just not hungry, Freya has filled me up with so much cake.” Maureen saw his anxious face and she said quickly, “Maybe a peedie bit later on though.” He smiled, and she put her arms out for a hug.
The two of them had adored each other for ten years, but it had taken Maureen’s breast cancer diagnosis to make them finally declare their love, with more than a little help from Evie, who persuaded them both they were destined to be more than just good friends.
Rory was upstairs doing his homework but he ran downstairs to greet them. His hair had long grown back, after he had shaved it all off to cheer his mum up when hers fell out from the chemo, and to raise money for the local breast cancer charity.
Maureen had cried at the loss of his curls but had been fiercely proud of her splendid boy who suddenly looked so grown up. He had taken a stretch over the past six months and was all clumsy knees and elbows like a baby giraffe learning to walk.
“What gossip have you got from the witches coven?” he said cheekily.
“Behave yourself. There’s no gossip to speak of at all,” replied Maureen.
He grinned, “Come off it, mum. You’ve spent the morning with Freya and all those mad Selkies. You must have a million things to tell us.”
Maureen smiled at him and ruffled his spiky hair. “Maybe when you are older.”
“You always say that.”
“Well, I’m sure you don’t really want to hear all the details about Hari’s nappies.”
“Yuck. I’m about to have my tea. Thanks a lot.”
“Actually, we did talk a lot more about Freya’s birthday party,” said Maureen.
“Was that not supposed to be a surprise?” Andrzej peered out from the kitchen.
“You know what she’s like. She managed to winkle it out of us when we were at her house last month, but she has promised to leave it all to us and not to interfere.”
“Good luck with that,” said Andrzej, going back to his stew, a recipe from his mother in Poland.
“Are you sure you are OK mum?” said Rory. “You look a bit tired. Would you like a cup of tea?”
“I’m fine, and I’ve had so much tea this afternoon I’m swimming in the stuff.”
Both Andrzej and Rory tried very hard not to treat Maureen like a priceless piece of porcelain, but they perched like anxious hawks watching for any sign of pain or tiredness.
She was well aware of their scrutiny and always tried to be cheerful and positive around them. Frankly, she was finding it exhausting.
Thank the lord for Freya. She was always just a phone call away and Maureen could cry and pour her heart out, telling her of her fears for herself and for Rory and Andrzej. She didn’t have to be brave for Freya and it was such a relief to have her as a friend.
“What on earth would we all do without her?” sighed Maureen. She couldn’t bear the thought of ever being without Freya and the mention of her upcoming birthday had made Maureen realise that she really was growing older.
Freya’s energy and positivity was extraordinary, and she seemed timeless, but she would soon be eighty years of age and she wouldn’t live forever.
Maureen pushed these morbid thoughts from her mind. As she well knew, with her own devastating illness, you never can tell when your time might be up, and the most important thing was to live each day to the fullest.
They’d give Freya the most special party of her life and cherish every single moment.