This is a work of fanfiction. The characters and storylines belong to Buffalo Pictures.

The Rain in Spain

Chapter 2

Louisa had dozed off, the warmth of the baby in her arms lulling her into much needed sleep. It was only when the flight attendant came by to collect the remains of her after lunch tea did she wake.
"We'll be landing soon, Miss. This may be a good time to secure the little one in his seat."

"Yes, thank you," answered Louisa. She was groggy and still trying to get her bearings- yes, she was on a plane to Spain. Wasn't there a song about the plane in Spain, or was it the Plains in Spain? She shook the barmy thought from her mind along with the groggy remains of her nap before gently placing James in his seat. He was fast asleep, but woke the minute Louisa clicked the seat's harness in place. In the last few weeks James had developed a dislike for the car seat and voiced his displeasure with high pitched howls that made driving anywhere a chore. Thankfully the village was small enough that there was no need for a car, and he seemed to do fine in his pushchair from where he could admire the seagulls and be fawned upon by the villagers.

James low cries quickly escalated into a full blown wail. Louisa dug his favorite green dinosaur from the nappy bag and waved it front of the crying baby, but it only made things worse.

"Can you keep it down? Some of us are trying to read," snapped the man seated next to Louisa, the one who had snored most of the way from Heathrow.

"Sorry, I'll see what I can do," answered Louisa.

He grunted and turned his attention back to his newspaper.

One thing Louisa could not abide was rudeness. Manners don't cost anything, she had once said to an uncouth, gun wielding hermit. She'd expect bad manners from an old man living in shack but not from a well-dressed executive type. "Excuse me, but you're one to talk. You snore loud enough to wake the dead. At least my son has a good reason for making noise."

Louisa held her breath, waiting for the man to lash back. What was wrong with her, picking a fight with this complete stranger?

The man put down his newspaper and let out a low chuckle. "That's what my wife says, that I snore loud enough to wake the dead. I'm the one who should be sorry. The little tyke obviously doesn't like to be strapped down."

James Henry had quieted down somewhat, his attention taken by the man talking to his mother.

"No, and I'm sorry. It was rude of me to mention your snoring."

"So English of you to apologize for something you shouldn't." He extended his hand. "I'm Max Cleary, at your service."

Louisa tried place his accent as he let go of her hand. "Nice to meet you. American?"

"Ah, you've found me out," he answered with a warm smile. "From Chicago to be exact. Traveling to Malaga on business. You?"

"Holiday," or running away, she added silently. Ruth's words had sat with her in that comfortable way the truth often did, casting doubts on her decision to leave Portwenn. Maybe Ruth was right about the need to face her marital problems head on, but she couldn't take another moment of Martin, well, being Martin.

There was an announcement from the flight deck followed by a flurry of activity from the attendants.

"Almost there," said Max, stowing his paper away. "You've been to Spain?" he asked Louisa.

"A long time ago, when I was at uni. Seems like a lifetime now." It had been a lifetime ago, the sunny beaches and cool nights in the company of Danny, her then boyfriend. Now she was older and wiser, a mother and wife. There would be no cavorting on the beach at midnight with a bottle of Cava.

"All secured?" asked the attendant who had brought Louisa's lunch and tea. She handed over a packet of Rusks. "For the baby to chew on. The change in air pressure can be painful for little ears."

Louisa thanked her and handed a cracker to James who gummed it with gusto. A few minutes later they were taxing to the terminal, and Louisa took out her phone to check for messages. Nothing from neither Martin or her mother. She had secretly hoped Martin would call, leave a message saying how much he missed her and the baby. But that would be unusual behavior for Martin, and she'd more likely get an earful about the idiotic villagers followed by silence as he ran out of things to say. That's how it had been all along between them, she taking two to his one half-hearted step.

The plane had come to a stop and there was a rush of belongings being pulled out of the overhead compartments. Max had retrieved his overnight bag and brief case, and offered to do the same for Louisa. "Are you going to be okay? I can stick around and give you a hand. It's the least I can do after the racket I made with my snoring"

Again, a warm smile lit up his features. Not handsome in the traditional sense, thought Louisa, with his boxer's nose and receding hairline. But nice nonetheless, and she let him take the nappy bag while she carried James in his car seat.

They walked in silence, dodging the crowds, until they arrived at baggage claim. "Someone meeting you?" asked Max. "Yes, my mother." Louisa looked around the terminal teeming with passengers waiting for luggage, loved ones or both. There was no sign of Eleanor and Louisa signed inwardly. Her mother wasn't reliable at the best of times. Maybe she should have made alternative arrangements but this would have cost a pretty penny. Her mother's village was at least fifty miles from the airport, an expensive taxi ride Louisa would rather avoid. "It's nothing Lou-Lou. My friend has a car I can borrow. I'll be there as promised." Eleanor had promised many things to her daughter over the years, promises that had been broken without a second thought.

"Ah, my car is here. Are you sure you don't need a ride?" A capped driver had collected Max's bags and was loading them on a trolley.

"No, no we'll be fine. Thanks all the same." Louisa flashed him a brilliant smile as she scanned the carrousel for her luggage.

"If you say so. Safe travels, Miss…"

"It's Mrs. Ellingham." Max glanced at her left hand. "Of course, silly of me. Well, safe travels, Mrs. Ellingham." He was gone before Louisa had the chance to thank him, swallowed by the throngs milling about the terminal. There was still no sign of her mother, and she wondered if she should have accepted Max's offer. But she taught her pupils never to accept lifts from strangers and she was not about to break that rule even though it meant getting stranded at the airport.

"We'll find a way, won't we James?" She scanned the carrousel for her bag, but didn't see the black case with a bright red ribbon tied on the handle. "Hope that didn't get lost," she grumbled, thinking of the light cotton dresses she had packed. The air was oppressively humid, even with the air conditioning, and she would have liked to change out of her long sleeved top and fitted skirt.

"Right. Time for a nappy change, darling. Maybe Granny and our bag will be there when we get back." James answered with a gurgle followed by "dada".

"No, daddy isn't here. But mama is." She leaned over and kissed the top of his head. Wisps of blond hair tickled her nose and she smiled wanly as he made a grab for her. "Enough you silly. Let's find the nearest toilet."

Louisa locked the pram next to one of the changing table and swung the nappy bag on the counter. She was in the process of taking out the wipes and nappy cream when saw her reflection in the wall length mirror. Her ponytail had come undone, and tendrils of dark brown hair framed her face, pale under the glare of florescent lights. She quickly pulled her hair back, noting the dark smudges under her eyes. They looked hallow or haunted, she couldn't decide which, and to her consternation the sharp pin prick of tears filled her throat and threatened to spill onto her cheeks.

"You right, Miss?" The toilet attendant was standing behind her, a short plump woman with a red kerchief covering her head. She was holding a mop in one hand and bucket in the other.

"Si, yes of course. Gracias" The woman shook her head. "If say so." She lumbered away, and Louisa busied herself with changing James' nappy.

By the time she wheeled the pram back to arrivals her bag was on the carrousel. The concourse had thinned out, with just a few remaining stragglers, and no sign of Eleanor. Louisa grabbed her bag before it made another round and then looked at her phone – still nothing from her mother.

"Typical," she muttered. What had she been thinking, relying on Eleanor to collect them from the airport? Louisa berated herself silently for her stupidity, the earlier sadness replaced by anger. Why did everything have to be so difficult?

James had started to grizzle, it being past his lunch time. "Right. Let's find a place to sit." She wheeled pram and case to a bench with a view of the sliding doors leading to the car park. "Just in case Granny decides to show up," she said, lifting the baby from the pram. A bottle was soon found and he was guzzling it happily as Louisa fished her phone from her purse. Still no message, so she rang Eleanor's mobile.

The call went straight to voice mail. "Mum, it's Louisa. I'm at the airport with James. I thought you'd be here by now. Call me when you get this."

James had finished his bottle and was now drowsing in Louisa's arms. The concourse was empty except for a man a wheeled trolley emptying rubbish bins. She glanced at her mobile, but still nothing.

"Great. What now?" she murmured to the sleeping baby.