The loud 'chacker chacker' sound from outside the window woke Paul with a start. He turned his head to look at the time, it was only 6 am. Damn magpie, he hated the noise it made. He put his arm out to feel for Katie and was surprised to feel an empty space. It wasn't like her to get up first, she liked to wait for him to make the tea. The bedroom was still quite dark due to the blackout blinds they had had installed. 'Chacker, chacker', the noise was even louder now.
Paul and Katie had watched the magpie build its nest on the pylon outside their house all Spring. It had taken a while to build. Katie had taken his hand one day and whispered, 'maybe it's a sign. It will be our turn next'.
Paul had tried to squash down a sense of foreboding and the rhyme from his childhood about magpies, One for sorrow, two for joy.' They had only ever seen the one magpie.
He heard some noises from the bathroom and what sounded like sobs. He had a sick feeling in his stomach. It had happened often in the last year. Last spring they had decided to start a family, 'trying for a baby' was what Katie had said. It sounded terrible to him then and it still did. It had taken all the romance out of their relationship.
He felt himself drifting back to sleep and in his half awake state could hear his mother's voice. 'Never forget to salute the magpie or you'll have bad luck.' Unbeknown to Katie he had been doing just that all spring.
Paul had grown up with his Irish mother, Derval, who believed strongly in superstitions, in the little people and the rest. If her left hand itched she knew she was going to have money. If she spilt the salt she would throw some over her shoulder to hit the devil in the eye. Once Paul had broken a mirror and she had wept all day at the thought of seven years bad luck and still blamed it on the fact that he hadn't married Patty O' Carroll but instead an English girl.
His mother would never admit it but she adored Katie and loved coming to stay with them. When his mother had come at Christmas Katie had really enjoyed hearing all about the little people and the traditions passed down from Derval's grandparents and great grandparents. On New Year's Eve Derval had made Paul cross the threshold with bread in one hand and coal in the other and on Twelfth Night all the decorations had been taken down and packed away. Paul shivered as he remembered the moment they had kissed and drunk to each other with champagne and both made the silent wish, 'This time next year there will be three of us.' They had thought it would be easy. It wasn't. The last time, the doctor had told them all the things they could do. That's when the magpie had started building its nest, almost like it wanted to taunt them.
Paul shook himself awake, maybe he should go and make the tea and try and console Katie.
They both had lessons later in the morning.
Probably because of his mother and her belief in omens and signs Paul had studied Maths and went on to take a PhD and was now professor at the university.
Maths never let you down, he always thought. You knew where you were. It was easy to mark essays and papers because it was a question of right or wrong. There was no room for opinions or points of view, or emotions of funny ideas. He was quite the opposite of Katie who taught Art and believed in expression and imagination.
There was a lot of noise from outside the window. Paul went to pull up the blind. He stared in amazement at the commotion going on around the pylon. There were two magpies flapping around the nest. At the same time the door was flung open and Katie appeared in the doorway. He turned round and saw she was holding the tray with their mugs of tea. Her face was tearstained and her eyes were red but she was radiant, beaming and seemed to be almost laughing. She put the tray down and ran to the window to hug him waving the now familiar white stick and kissed him, her face wet with tears,
'Hey Maths teacher, what do you say? One plus one makes three, sometimes.'
As he stared at the result on the pregnancy test, realisation dawned on him and he held her tight and pointed to the nest. When he spoke his voice was thick with emotion.
'And one for sorrow but two for joy.'
Katie giggled and touched his lips. She grinned,
'Three for a girl, four for a boy ...'
'
