A/N: this is another relatively short chapter because I need to do the next part justice and so it didn't seem right to cram everything into one update. I hope you enjoy it! please do review if you have a spare minute, they keep me going!
"I can't quite believe I agreed to this," Max muttered under his breath as he struggled to wedge his best friend's enormous wife into the passenger side of Robert's Mercedes. He inwardly cursed the elderly baron and his son in law for going to the base in the same car, for if the two men had travelled separately there would've been no means of transport left for Maria to mutinously commandeer.
As he reflected on their previous exchange, the impresario couldn't help but feel as though he'd been somewhat duped by the young woman. The previous distress written on her face that had led him to acquiesce to her request had been miraculously replaced by a bossy, almost aggressive determination now that she'd gotten her own way. Gone was the vulnerable girl and in her place sat a fiery duplicate that he was no more accustomed to dealing with. She was a perfect reminder of the reason as to why he'd stayed unattached for the majority of his adult life. He simply couldn't fathom how any man, whether simple and humble in nature, or fierce and proud in countenance, could ever keep up with the emotional demands of the fairer sex. Maria's behaviour had him absolutely baffled - sweet and demour one minute, then a fiery tornado of activity the next - though he and others around him had put her uncharacteristic impatience down to the hormones of late. He hoped to God it was merely a passing phase, for Georg's sake if anything else.
"Hurry," his passenger demanded as if on cue, struggling with the effort of bending into a sitting position with the added strain of her swollen stomach weighing her down, "we need to get a move on before Margaret notices we're gone!"
"Because she'll do the sensible thing-" Max huffed for breath under Maria's alarming weight, resisting the urge to use his foot as leverage to force her large frame further into the car, "-and try and put a stop to this madness?"
Maria chose to ignore him however and merely stuck her chin out resolutely, looking entirely too authoritative for Max's liking, "quickly now," she snapped, "if we move fast enough we'll be back before they know it."
"I hardly think it's me who's slowing us down," the impresario grumbled intelligibly, her eyes falling to her swollen stomach.
"What was that?" Maria's eyes narrowed into slits, a look that could kill a man at ten paces.
"Nothing, nothing.." Max added hastily, and then much more loudly "are you sure this is a good idea?"
He'd hoped that by raising his voice he would somehow alert Margaret and the children to their mutinous escape. With any luck, the ten of them would still be walking about the grounds close by and would hear his desperate cry for help. No doubt he would get a terrible scolding from the baroness for even considering driving a heavily pregnant woman halfway across the south of England, but the elderly lady's scorn would likely be far less terrifying than Georg's. Yes, Max thought, Margaret was his last hope for getting out of this mess and saving his own skin. She had the hearing of a hunting dog despite her age, and would surely be alerted to his subtle message if he called loud enough.
But before he'd had a chance to scour the surroundings and determine whether anyone was coming to his rescue, he felt Maria's fist wrap firmly around his tie and, with a strangled cry, he was jerked abruptly down to her eye level.
Confronted with the most terrifying glare he'd ever experienced from a woman so seemingly sweet, Max gave a minuscule whimper, entirely at her mercy as she clutched at his tie with alarming strength and glowered at him from over her fist.
"Get in," she growled, her eyes burning with resolution before she finally released him. Moving like a bat out of hell, the impresario almost tripped over his own feet in his haste to get to the driver's seat, noting that a pregnant and hormonal Maria was far more terrifying than Georg, Margaret, and even the most stern admirals he'd had the displeasure of meeting in the navy put together. The sooner the baby was born, he thought, the better!
As the car ambled leisurely through the countryside, Max was almost able to forget the purpose behind their impromptu journey. The spring sun was shining down upon them, a gentle breeze was dancing through the surrounding countryside and they'd hardly encountered another soul during the long hours they'd been on the road. It almost felt as though they were going on a little trip, a luxurious adventure whose destination was anywhere but a dangerous and volatile naval base in which a raging sea captain would no doubt have Max's head on a silver platter. He and Maria hadn't spoken much since their departure from Northampton and Max had been somewhat glad for it, given the young woman's unpredictable countenance of late, but now that the waters seemed to have calmed, he found his curiosity was getting the best of him.
"So what is so urgent it couldn't possibly wait?" He broke the silence, throwing his passenger a curious sideways glance, "Georg really won't be pleased," he warned, "in fact I wager he'll be absolutely furious."
"No doubt," Maria replied coolly, "but the real question is..." she met his gaze with a wicked grin, "will his fury be aimed at me, or you?"
Max snorted in defeat, "I think we both know the answer to that question."
Maria gave a satisfied nod, still grinning devilishly, and Max visibly relaxed in the knowledge that she was at least in better spirits than when they'd left. He wasn't sure he could bear another minute of her previous tyranny.
"You know.. We could've done with a few women like you in the navy," he chuckled, recalling just how easily she'd used strategy against him to obtain exactly what she wanted.
"Do you not think having a woman on board would be somewhat.. distracting?" Maria smirked, raising an eyebrow.
"I didn't mean it like that!" The impresario protested with a grin, "I just mean it would've been rather amusing to watch you put arrogant sea captains in their place with that tenacity of yours," he chuckled boyishly, "I'm not sure Georg ever knew what hit him when you came along and defied every rule he'd ever implemented."
Maria smiled at the memory of her very first meeting with her stoic sea captain. How disagreeable he'd been, all whistles and orders and brisk retorts. He hadn't been at all what she'd expected, especially when the hardened exterior had softened to reveal a beautifully complex and fascinating man. Who'd have thought there was such a playful, mischievous and fiercely passionate soul hidden underneath that scowl.
"What was he like?" She asked suddenly, her eyes alight with curiosity, "as a captain?"
"Exactly as you'd expect," Max shrugged, and then after pondering for a few moments, "brilliant, strategic, ruthless, cunning, brave. He earned respect wherever he went and he never lost a battle. Though he was heartbroken when we lost the war, and the navy along with it. He resented it, he was bitter that we'd fought so hard for nothing."
He gave a wistful smile then, as though recalling his own memories.
"He'd have made Admiral by now if things had turned out differently. And quite simply, he just missed the sea," Max continued, "Agathe snapped him out of it whenever he wallowed in self pity. She even bought him a sailing boat despite Salzburg being so far from the water," he gave a wry chuckle before his face turned grave, "But then, well.. you know..." he trailed off, the meaning behind his silence all too clear, "I don't know what he did with the boat after that."
A long silence hung between them then, each of them lost to their own thoughts before Maria eventually broke the comfortable quiet.
"Well it certainly sounds as though you had quite a few adventures along the way," she grinned, watching the impresario's eyes suddenly glimmer with mischief.
"My lips are sealed Fraulein!" He quipped, sending her a playful smirk that entirely suggested otherwise.
"Oh but surely the gossip is simply too delicious to ignore Max!" She fixed him with her most salacious grin, and that's all it took for the impresario to acquiesce, for when it came to getting gossip out of Max Detweiler, there was no need for Maria to employ any kind of strategy whatsoever.
Before long, the two of them were howling with laughter as he regaled her with tales of his seafaring adventures, of Georg's foibles as a young sailor, of his own inability to adopt any sense of discipline, of exotic countries and bizarre acquaintances. She would go quiet with melancholy over a particularly sad story of loss, or gasp in surprise at an unimaginable turn of events. And so it was, for the better part of two more hours. The time seemed to fly by until they were darting through the dense Hampshire countryside, moving closer and closer to their destination, though both parties were too enraptured by their animated conversation to notice.
"And that's where we met a lovely group of native dancers," Max chuckled, cocking an eyebrow and babbling happily as he recalled a humorous memory, one hand gripping leisurely at the steering wheel, "we didn't have the foggiest idea which language they were speaking.."
But Maria had stopped listening to his animated monologue and had instead become entirely distracted by a peculiar sensation of warmth flooding the material of her skirts where she sat. It was the most bizarre feeling... almost as though she'd suddenly sat in a lukewarm puddle. Her brow creased in puzzlement as she looked down at herself and discovered, with abject horror, that her dress was entirely soaked through. It was almost as if... surely the baby hadn't kicked her bladder without her realising it?! She'd had a few close calls throughout her pregnancy when nature had called unexpectedly, especially as the baby had grown bigger, but she'd always managed to make it to the bathroom with her dignity intact. Had she just gone and relieved herself right there on the plush leather passenger seat of Robert Whitehead's car?! The thought left her absolutely mortified.
Her travel companion was still chattering away incessantly, entirely oblivious to his passenger's distress, though he might as well have been speaking Spanish for all Maria knew or cared. How was she going to explain to him that she'd involuntarily wet herself in the front seat of Robert's Mercedes?! She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so embarrassed!
And then, all of a sudden, as though she were struck by a bolt of lightning, reality hit her like a brick to the face. Her heart all but stopped and the world shifted on its axis, her lungs feeling as though they were being filled with lead. Margaret had warned her about this.. about what was to be expected when you were so close to expecting. And suddenly she knew.. it was clear as day as her mind reeled with the realisation... she hadn't wet herself at all..
"Oh my goodness!" She cried, her hands flying to her stomach.
"I know!" Max chortled, "the native dancers never did give Georg his hat back!"
"No, not that you fool!" Maria screeched, "my waters just broke!"
"What?!" Max shouted, whirling to face her with a look as though she'd just declared alcohol prohibition across Europe.
"The baby is coming!" Maria shrieked again, panic erupting in her chest as her heart hammered against her rib cage.
"I don't understand!" Was the spluttered response.
"What is there to misunderstand?!" She admonished, becoming shriller by the second, "The baby is going to come out!"
"Well for God's sake, hold it in!" Max cried, entirely panic stricken as his eyes darted from the road, to Maria, back to the road again, gripping the wheel so hard that it looked as though it might pop right off the dashboard.
"And how do you propose I do that?!" Maria replied, absolutely incredulous. If she was about to be forced to have Max Detweiler as a birthing partner, God had another thing coming.
"I have no idea!" Max stammered, "deep breathe?!"
Maria opened her mouth to tell him exactly how appalling his advice was but the words died on her lips, replaced instead by a roar of pain as her first contraction shot through her body. She looked to Max mid-scream for some kind of reassurance, only to realise that the impresario was screaming just as loudly himself, his face contorted in abject fear. The pain eventually ebbed away, as did Maria's cries, but Max's deep bellied roar of panic still echoed around them as the car hurtled down the country lanes.
"Max just calm down!" Maria shouted over the din, holding her stomach with one hand and the side of the car with the other as the impresario abruptly fell silent, "just breathe!"
Gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles were white, Max began deep breathing on Maria's count, "in two three, out two three.." in an attempt to calm his unwavering hysteria. How utterly ridiculous they must've looked, Maria thought fleetingly, a heavily pregnant woman in labour encouraging a screaming moustachioed gentleman to inhale through his panic attack while they darted through the relentless Hampshire countryside in a bottle green Mercedes convertible. The entire scene was beyond ludicrous.
"What the hell do we do now?!" Max cried, having regained the ability to speak, "tell me what I should do!" But before Maria had a chance to respond, another contraction rippled through her body and she doubled over groaning in pain again - a deep, hoarse, lengthy groan that bore an uncanny resemblance, Max thought, to a braying ox. Releasing a curse word into the air above, he inwardly kicked himself for having wished the baby would arrive sooner rather than later, for he certainly hadn't meant so soon that he would have to deliver it right here in the passenger seat!
"Fraulein! Are you alright?!"
Another defeated moan.
"Just hold tight, we're nearly at the base!" He spluttered, putting his foot to the ground in his desperation, "just.. just tell the baby to wait!"
Another intelligible groan.
"Sorry?! I can't understand you!" Max panicked, "tell me what you need!"
"I said.." she rasped through a grimace, "you are an imbecile.."
Even in his limited knowledge about the miracle of birth, Max knew his advice was probably the most ridiculous imaginable. The baby was coming now whether he liked it or not. But with any luck, they'd make it to the base in time and Georg would surely have a better understanding of how to handle the emergency situation? He'd done this seven times before for Christ sake!
But Max gulped with dread as it dawned on him that Georg had been away at sea during all seven of his children's births. And he wondered - as he threw a worrisome glance Maria's way to discover her keeling over in pain and shooting daggers at him as though he alone was responsible for her discomfort - whether they'd make it in time for his friend to witness the eighth.
A/N: I originally thought about having Maria's waters break at the base itself, but having it happen with only Max to deal with the imminent panic seemed far too fun to ignore! I'm not too familiar with what it feels like to go into labour so apologies if I haven't done it justice! I hope you enjoyed the update, let's hope they make it to the base in time for an unsuspecting Georg to lend a hand!