Page 101 of The Stranger in Room Six
And he was. He really was.
But most of all he was hers.
And no one, swore Mabel, would ever take him away from her.
69
We have a beautiful baby boy!wrote Mabel.
He is so like you, Antonio. I suggested calling him after you in one of my previous letters but you cannot have received it. How I wish you could see him. Beryl has kindly taken a photograph of us, which I am enclosing in this letter. I have one for myself too. His skin is olive like yours and I am sure he is beginning to follow me with his eyes, which Beryl says is remarkably early. He is three weeks old now and it feels as though he has been with me for ever. The sisters say I am a natural at feeding him. He sleeps by my side in a little crib. I hum him our special song. I’m a little sore from my stitches but Olive has given me some medicine to ease the pain, though it makes me quite drowsy.
Every day, I take him out in a pram that the sisters found me and we walk by the sea. The villagers are so kind, especially the post office lady. They often stop to see how I am without asking awkward questions about a husband. Perhaps it’s because so many men are away. Some say the war will end soon and others think it will be another year or more. Please come and find us as soon as you can.
The following week, there was a knock at the door. It had a different sound from the knocks that were usually made. This one had an urgent air to it.
Both sisters were out so Mabel walked as fast as she could with little Antonio in her arms, snug in his shawl.
Her heart began pounding. There was a feeling insideher – so strong – that her love had somehow come for her …
‘Aunt Clarissa!’
Mabel faltered on the doorstep, stepping aside just as she swept in. Behind her aunt was a tall thin man whom Mabel had never seen before.
‘You failed to tell me you had had the child,’ Clarissa frowned, glancing down at the little bundle in Mabel’s arms. ‘You broke your promise after everything I have done for you.’
Mabel’s heart was racing. ‘I’m sorry. I was so scared of what might happen; I want to keep my baby.’
‘Of course you do.’ Her aunt’s voice was softer. ‘You just need to sign these papers.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you are not yet of age. I am your guardian while your father is away.’
The drugs Olive had given her to ease the pain of those stitches below made the print swim before her eyes. Mabel’s hand wobbled across the page.
‘Now it is settled,’ said her aunt, taking Antonio from her arms and handing him to the man beside her.
‘Wait. What are you doing? Give my son back to me!’
‘Be sensible, Mabel. I’m only doing what is best for you. You will realize that when you are older. Besides, you have signed away your rights now.’
‘I work for an adoption society,’ chipped in the man. ‘Your child will be brought up by a God-fearing married couple.’
‘You lied!’ she screamed at her aunt.
‘It’s for your own good, Mabel. That’s the end of it.’
The man turned to leave, his foot on the threshold.
‘Wait!’ Mabel raced upstairs as fast as she could and tookthe piece of lace the lacemaker had given her. She hesitated for a second, before cutting it in half. Then she put the remaining piece back in her drawer, scribbled a swift note and ran downstairs again. ‘Give this to whoever adopts my son along with this piece of paper. It has the name of the village in Italy where my Antonio came from. Ask them, I beg you, to give it to him when he is older with the message that I loved him and that I wanted to keep him. Please …’
‘Mabel, enough! You are to return home with me.’
‘I need to tell the sisters.’
‘Don’t worry about them. They know all about this.’
‘No. That can’t be true.’
