A Mother's Love - Prequel - Part 1

Printer-friendly version
breastfeeding.jpg
          
"Tea will be fine," said Mary, smiling again before touching my arm lightly with her hand, "bye for now, nice meeting you, have a good week."

"Bye Mary, you too," I replied.

A Mother's Love - Prequel - Part 1

by Alys


Part 1
 
"Yes love, what'll it be?" asked the friendly middle aged catering assistant behind the counter in the Students Union cafe

"Cup of tea please, no milk or sugar," I responded with a smile.

"No milk? Are you sure love?"

"Yes, I'm intolerant to it," I explained.

"Oh, OK , you want some UHT* instead then love?," said the plump, middle aged woman, as she carefully filled one of the cheap china mugs in front of her.

"No thanks, it's made of milk and I can't drink it," I replied politely to the confused assistant.

"Oh yes, silly me, what about some extra sugar?," she offered.

I smiled and quietly responded, "No, thanks, black tea's fine."

"OK love, that's seventy pence then."

I handed over the correct change, took my drink and wandered over to one of the last stools free, next to the high counter around the walls of the cafe. As usual during the mid-morning break in lectures the place was packed and the noise levels were high.

I sat down, took a little sip of my still almost scalding beverage and looked out through the windows at the pedestrians walking past on Holloway Road. The normal mixture of students in the almost universal uniform of t-shirt and jeans, despite the slight chill in the fine early October weather, were making their way between the various buildings of the campus.

Sometimes there was a small group laughing and joking, sometimes a more studious looking individual, sometimes a pair of young people in earnest conversation, all of them walking with purpose.

By contrast the locals, who were intermingled between the young people studying at North London University, were older and more sensibly dressed. I watched a man in his late forties or early fifties as he slowly plodded along the pavement, shoulders hunched a little forward, lost in his contemplation and seemingly oblivious to the youth and vitality around him.

As I followed his progress I wondered about the friends and lovers he might have had in his younger days and whether I was seeing a vision of myself in twenty or thirty years.

"Anyone sitting here?" asked a female voice, breaking my reverie.

I turned round and smiled at the very attractive fellow student who had spoken to me," No, you're welcome."

"Thanks," she said as she squeezed in next to me, " This must be last seat left, is it always this busy?"

"Yep, always like this, aren't you based in Holloway Road?" I asked, referring to the main building in the Islington campus of the dispersed, inner city university.

"I only come here on Tuesdays, I'm at Kentish Town, I'm doing European studies and French Language. I only come over for the language lab." she replied while looking quizzically at me.

"Business admin, French and German," I replied to her unspoken question, "when are you in the lab?"

"After break," she replied, "my name's Mary by the way. Hey is that black tea you're drinking?"

"I'm Steve, yes it is black tea, a bit too brewed too. I can't drink milk, you too?" I asked looking at the dark beverage in her cup.

"Yes, it's a bit disgusting, I think I'll try black coffee next time, I just thought I'd try it for once," Mary replied, "I can't drink milk either, it makes me quite ill. You the same?"

"Yes," I replied before explaining how I had been very ill as a baby until the doctors had diagnosed cow's milk intolerance. We chatted for a while

Before I could reply the departure of the rest of the people sitting near me prompted me to look at my watch.

"Shit, break was over five minutes ago, we'd better hurry over to the lab." I said as I got up.

"You've got a session now too?" Mary asked as she stood up, "That's great we can walk over together, I've got no idea where the lab is."

An hour an a half later we walked out of the lab after a stimulating session of French conversation and language exercises.

"That was fun," Mary said, " I'm so glad I spent most of July and August working in Eurocamp."

"I think I've got a headache," I responded.

"Really, why?" my companion asked.

"I haven't spoken French since A'levels, it was a bit hard going after not speaking for three months," I replied as we made our way down the narrow stairs in the language studies annexe.

"Don't you like travelling? I had to get away after the exams I had great fun working in Brittany," said Mary.

"I was home over the summer," I replied, briefly.

I could see a question forming in her face and so thinking to divert any potential questions about my personal circumstances I gestured towards the greasy spoon, otherwise known as the 'Uni Cafe', outside in the street.

"You fancy some lunch, Mary, this place does some amazing food."

Mary stopped and seemed about to follow me before she looked at her watch and answered, "Sorry, Steve, I really should get the tube back to Kentish Town, my next lecture starts in about an hour and a half."

"Oh OK," I responded, feeling a little rebuffed which was not an unfamiliar feeling for me, "See you next week then?"

"Sure," she replied, smiling, "meet you in the Tower Block? The same time?"

"Great, yes let's do that, I'll get the teas or would you prefer coffee, or maybe something else....." I asked, a bit overexcited at the prospect of seeing Mary again.

"Tea will be fine," said Mary, smiling again before touching my arm lightly with her hand, "bye for now, nice meeting you, have a good week."

"Bye Mary, you too," I replied.

She turned and walked towards the underground station. I stood and watched her walk quickly towards the entrance of Holloway Road underground station. Just before she disappeared she turned and gave me a quick, friendly wave. I raised my hand to respond but she was gone in that instant.

The week before I saw Mary again was one full of sweet thoughts and of anticipation. For the first few days after meeting her I replayed our encounter over and over inside my head. On more than one occasion I found my mind wandering away from whatever subject matter I was supposed to be studying in lectures and back towards the short time I had spent in her company.

As the week neared its end I began to feel anxious about whether or not Mary would come to the language session. By the day of the lesson I found it difficult to concentrate in my earlier lectures and in the end I skipped the one before break, a rather dry one about Business Ethics, in order to make sure I got a table before the rush at break time.

"Hi Steve," said Janet the plump catering assistant behind the counter," the usual is it?"

"Yes, please, Janet but could you make it two cups," I replied, smiling back at the friendly woman who had quickly got to remember my unusual daily request.

"Two cups? You must be thirsty love," Janet said as she poured out the hot brown liquid.

"For a friend," I explained as I handed over the correct change.

Janet gave me a knowing smile before she turned to the next customer in the queue.

I carried the two cups over to the stools in the window where I had been sitting when I had met Mary the previous week. I put the saucer on top of Mary's cup to try and keep it as warm as possible until she arrived.

The view out of the cafe windows was very similar to the previous week, although the hint of the forecast afternoon showers in the strengthening breeze meant most of the students were walking much quicker between buildings while the locals were favouring more rain resistant clothing.

After a short while sipping my tea and gazing out of the window, and thinking about Mary again, I noticed that the usual lecture time, continual trickle of customers for the cafe had rapidly swelled into a chatty, enthusiastic throng of young people which quickly filled the small cafe.

I ignored the hub-bub around me and turned my gaze to the people outside coming out of the nearby tube station, hoping to see Mary. I watched carefully as commuters of all shapes and sizes, colours and genders emerged from the dark interior of the underground railway. I studied every face carefully for the next ten minutes, each lack of recognition raising my hopes for the next person to appear out of the darkness.

Finally after ten minutes of disappointment I realised from the thinning out of the cafe that it was time for the language lab session. Resigning myself to not meeting Mary again I finished my tea and slowly, despondently left the cafe.

As I walked towards the pedestrian crossing between the two buildings I wondered if Mary had possibly quit the course.

The sound of a car horn came just in time to stop me stepping into the road without looking as I was lost in my own thoughts.

I stood by the side of the road and waited for a safe moment to cross and then made my way to the entrance to Stapleton House and the language lab.

I turned the corner from the pavement to the main entrance and stopped in surprise as I recognised the person standing next to the door with a smile on her face.

"Hi Steve," said Mary, "I saw you crossing the road and decided to wait for you here."

"Hi, I thought you weren't coming," I replied, feeling a bit tongue tied.

"Oh, did you wait in the cafe?"

"Yes and I got you a tea too."

"Oh, Steve, I'm so sorry about that, I missed the tube and had to get my friend to give me a lift."

There were no words between us for a few seconds as I stood and gazed at her beautiful face and she smiled back. I noticed she had thicker makeup on one side than on the other. I wondered if I detected a bruise on her right cheek.

"Have you hurt yourself?" I asked, indicating with my eyes the side of her face that seemed to show a little swelling.

"Oh that, it's nothing, just walked into a cupboard door in the flat, I'm always doing it, I'm always so clumsy," Mary answered with a rather nervous tone.

"I'm sorry, I hope it didn't hurt too much."

"Don't worry," said Mary, with her radiant smile restored, "come on let's go. we'll be late for our session."

*Long life milk


To be continued

up
203 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

Alys Does It Again ::)

Thanks for continuing this story. I was not expecting another prequel. Will be fun to see what happens, here.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Thanks and apologies

Thanks Stan for your kind comment as always :-)

Apologies for anyone waiting for me to finish my incomplete series. Hopefully I will be able to write more often from now on.

Hugs,

Alys

Heart

This story, the entire series has such depth of heart to them. So very nice to see more!

Hugs

grover

Good...

Angharad's picture

...to see you back.

Cofleidiau,

Angharad

Angharad

Diolch

Diolch

Cofleidiau

Alys

Nice you're back and you left us a huge clue.

Her face having heavy makeup to hide a bruise is either the aftermath of the wild party her girlfriends took her to that led to her having unprotected sex, or was it more like drunken sex or even date rape, with the HIV carrier or it might even be early signs of untreated HIV. I believe it, like other diseases that weaken the immune system directly or indirectly, say cancer, make one easier to bruise and slower to hear. I suspect it is the immediate aftermath of the drunken party, though.

Question, we know from the first few chapters of the first series that she is still close to them after college and the pregnancy. Do they know how she got HIV and do they ever do anything to help out her and her husband? That was one of the unanswered questions in the first two stories.
Thanks for posting again, you are a gem

John in Wauwatosa

John in Wauwatosa

Always Insightful

Thanks for your comment, John, as always it is much appreciated.

You always pose me interesting questions about where to take my stories, I will do my best to try and answer them :-)

Hugs

Alys

I meant to say "slower to heal" not "slower to hear"

Ooooooops!

Thanks again for finding the time to write again an d so well too. I know how the real world can sneek up on you.

John in Wauwatosa

John in Wauwatosa

Yay! You've been missed!!

Frank's picture

Hi Alys,

Glad to see you have come back to this story. It was a favorite of mine...any thoughts to reworking the originals? Or the ending of it?

HUGS!!!

Frank

Hugs

Frank

Future Projects

Hi Frank

Thanks for the comment, I'm glad you like this series.

When I've finished the prequel I do have a vague idea about how to continue the series so it's a possibility.

Hugs

Alys

We Know Where It's Going

joannebarbarella's picture

But you make the journey so interesting. I hope Mary didn't walk into a four-inch door,
Hugs,
Joanne

It Might Have Been…

…an even thicker one, Joanne. :)

Great to see you back, Alys, I've missed my regular “fix” of your well-written stories.

Keep up the good work,

Cofleidiau,

Gabi.

“It is hard for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.” Thomas Hardy—Far from the Madding Crowd.

Gabi.


“It is hard for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs.” Thomas Hardy—Far from the Madding Crowd.

If I Recall Correctly....

If I recall correctly, "A Mother's Love" is the first of Alys' stories to feature the 4" thick oak door. Glad your back Alys.