Story extract - written today
With a Beatle as her husband, an expensive and huge new house, a two year old son and another baby well on the way, Cynthia surely has everything a young woman could want. When asked if she is happy in her extremely enviable life, she replies, "Very, though things do get difficult with John being away so often."
"Poor Cyn," he murmured softly as he lay the magazine across the table and took a sip of coffee.
"What are you reading?" his girlfriend asked lightly. She turned the magazine towards her a little so she could see it a bit better.
"John Lennon's wife. The way she has to pretend to be so happy all the time when he's always leavin' her or ignorin' her or hurtin' her. She's such a nice girl. It's not fair, really."
His girlfriend made sympathetic noises as he went on to give her some examples of how Cyn was treated by her husband. You could tell she truly felt sorry when she tilted her head and nodded that way. Not like with some people. And she didn't demand to know why he cared so much about some other musician's wife. She simply understood. Not only that, but she made it clear she understood.
She even wanted to hear what Cyn had to say once he'd told her a bit about her. She asked him if he would read the article to her and he nodded.
Though she is now eight months pregnant, Cynthia hasn't slowed down much. She has hired a cleaner to help with the housework but still afull time mother to her son with John. She is wearing a large paint covered shirt when we arrive at the house and tells us that she has spent the morning preparing the nursery for the imminent arrival of the couple's second child. She shows us into the room, surprisingly large considering it is meant for a child and freshly painted in a pale shade of blue.
"I know I've left it a bit late but the time has just slipped away from me," she says with a carefree smile as she absentmindedly caresses her baby bump.
In spite of the colour she has painted the walls, Cynthia is convinced that her child is going to be a girl. "I have my heart set on having a daughter and all through my pregnancy I've just had this feeling that she's going to be a girl. I must have looked at a million girls' names but hardly thought about boys' names at all."
When asked what names she has picked out after all this thought, she smiles again and answers, "Cordelia is one I've thought about a lot. John took me to see a play a while ago with a character called Cordelia and I haven't wanted to call her anything but that since. Well, except perhaps-"
The reader was interrupted mid-sentence by his girlfriend commenting on what a nice name Cordelia was, implying that she approved of Cynthia's taste in names. He nodded and said, "It is."
Inside his head, there were all sorts of thoughts about what this choice of name might mean. He wondered if she was trying to give him some sort of clue by suggesting she wanted to name her daughter after the daughter who remained loyal to her father, even after he banished her from his kingdom. Was she allowing him to hope that his daughter, whether she was called Cordelia then or something completely different, might want to seek him out and get to know him.
He scratched his head and went on reading.
"- except perhaps Angelina."
She goes on to tell us the story of how she discovered this name. This time she took the name from an unreleased Bob Dylan song, a source as far removed from Shakespeare's tragic heroine, who provided Cynthia's other favourite name. Our more musically minded readers might consider the privilege of hearing such rare songs one of the main advantages of being married to a world famous musician.
Cynthia would appear to agree with this sentiment, as she tells us, "We're very lucky to get to hear these sorts of things. John gets on quite well with Bob, so I've heard a few treats that not many other people have. I just hope Bob won't mind me borrowing his name."
The reader paused to take this in. It had been his intention in sending the song to Cynthia that she would understand who the song was written for and would use the name. He was glad that the plan seemed to have worked out but he just wished it had been safe to ask her directly. But he was never alone for long enough these days.
His girlfriend smiled and asked if he did mind. All he could do for a while was shake his head dumbly. When he did eventually find his voice, he admitted that he was, in fact, flattered.
Either name would be good, he thought, but he really hoped she did use both of them because he kept running over the names in his head and he thought they sounded perfect together. Cordelia Angelina Dylan. But, of course, it would be Lennon. It would always be Lennon. Never would she have his name because she would grow up as someoneelse's daughter. He had thought that by keeping a distance he could stop himself feeling any real pain over that. But here it was.
It wasn't really driven home until he read on. He skipped ahead a little, to where they were asking her what she'd name the baby if it turned out to be a boy. The answer was simple. And utterly heartbreaking.
"Robert. It would have to be Robert."
He swallowed hard. He knew he wouldn't be able to read on any further than this. Putting the magazine down, it took all his strength not to give into all these strange feelings right there in the middle of the bustling cafe.
His girlfriend reached out for his hand and lay her own impossibly small and delicate looking hand over it. She had been watching him the whole time he'd read with those deceptively sad eyes but now she used the full power of them as she asked softly what was wrong.
"It's nothing. No, it's not nothing. It's something, but, Sara, I don't think I can-"
She nodded. Oh, how badly he wanted to tell her all of what was on his mind. About Cyn, about the baby being his and about everything. He almost did begin to tell her, but she beat him to it with her own "There's something I need to tell you" and he let her go first. He listened to her and nodded and understood what this meant. And so the gentle-voiced Sara told Bob Dylan the news that he knew meant he was going to be a father for a second time. He accepted the fact there and then, even before before he'd become a father the first time round.