Chapter 4

O-perating, in More Ways than One

December 19

The school day was passing in a routine manner. Joanie seemed to have mostly reverted to her normal sweet and shy self, thanks also to the return of Melanie. Melanie was the daughter of Mrs. Holmes, the Portwenn primary school art and music teacher. She was a self-assured girl who had initially been… pushed into becoming Joanie's friend, both by her own mother and Louisa. Pushed because Joanie herself was too shy to go looking for friends, and because, even though the school was small, Melanie had simply failed to notice Joanie. At first Melanie had begrudged her mother this seeming imposition, but as Melanie had gotten to know Joanie better she had learned to appreciate her.

Joanie's natural inclination was to follow Melanie and accept Melanie's proposals. Yet Joanie had a mind of her own and did by no means follow blindly. Whenever Melanie proposed a project or a game, Joanie was sure to improve it, she had a lot of great ideas. Sometimes what the two little girls ended up doing had no resemblance to Melanie's original suggestion, though Melanie never noticed. For example, Melanie decided they should draw a large Cornish Christmas Bush for their art class team project. Joanie had been enthusiastic about the subject, as after all her mum always had a beautiful Cornish Bush as part of their home's Christmas decorations. However, Joanie had sweetly pointed out that it was better not to have just a flat drawing of a bush, but to cut two large round cardboard pieces and mount them together in the shape of the bush; then they could cover the ugly cardboard with a collage, planning each colored paper cutting first, without using the glue right away, but moving the pieces around carefully until they had achieved the best effect. This way they would have a three-dimensional collage that could be hung from the ceiling, like a real Cornish Bush. It would be a lot more eye catching than Melanie had originally envisioned. Once Melanie had understood what Joanie was suggesting, she had proclaimed that that had been exactly her idea from the start and had gladly become the enforcer of Joanie's methodology, making sure the other team members would not mess things up but do exactly as they were told. Melanie and Joanie were therefore very well matched, Melanie as queen, Joanie as éminence grise: Melanie could tell anybody what to do, but without Joanie she would not have known quite what to tell. Had Louisa fully realized the dynamics of this relationship, she might have worried a lot less about Joanie's ability to interact.

This day then was quiet, with Melanie and Joanie working very hard at their project, which they had to finish in time for the Christmas pageant. The art for the pageant was a lot more fun than singing on stage, thought Joanie with an inner sigh.

"So are you singing or not at the pageant?" asked Melanie, seemingly reading her friend's thoughts.

"Mum has not asked again, so maybe not. Daddy said I don't have to," said Joanie softly.

"The doc says you don't have to, then you don't have to," pronounced Melanie.

"Doctor Ellingham is my daddy. You can call him my daddy or Doctor Ellingham, he doesn't like doc. "

"But he can't hear me, can he?"

"No, but I can," said Joanie sweetly, though looking at Melanie with a rather intense stare and raised eyebrows. Melanie knew better than to say anything wrong about the doc, as she could not afford to lose the brains of her operation.

"OK. If Doctor Ellingham says you don't have to sing, then you don't have to."

"Mum is the Head Teacher though… But maybe she changed her mind. That would be good. I could just sing all wrong of course, but Ellinghams don't cheat, daddy says."

"Right… How would singing all wrong help?"

"Because then they would not even want me to sing," replied Joanie cutting a piece of green paper.

Just that moment Louisa walked into the classroom and to the two little girls' table. She sat on one of the small stools.

"Joanie," said Louisa "I have an idea for the Christmas pageant. It is something you could do to participate without having to sing on stage."

"Oh mum!" exclaimed Joanie with a big smile. She spontaneously got up and threw her small arms around her mother's neck. Louisa suppressed a tear to see her little girl so happy and caressed her daughter's hair.

"So what do I do then?" asked Joanie.

"Well Joanie, we need a stage hand, someone to help Mrs. Holmes with handing out props, making sure everyone has what he or she needs, and especially opening and closing the curtains. You know that Al volunteered his work to install an electric switch that opens and closes the curtains?" and here a big-eyed Joanie nodded vigorously. "You will be the curtains operator. It's an important job, but I know you are good at remembering things and following directions, so I'm sure you can open and close the curtains at the right time. Not close it when the singers are still singing. "

Both Melanie and Joanie giggled at the thought of closing the curtains at the wrong time, especially during the king of the elves' solo. Oh well, this could be fun. Joanie was happy now.

"Will you tell daddy then?"

"You can tell him when he calls. I imagine he'll call tonight."

"OK, he'll be happy then, my daddy."

"Your daddy will be happy with anything that makes you happy, Joanie."

Joanie's eyes were shining. Melanie intervened: "Can I try the curtains too Mrs. Ellingham?"

"Not during the pageant, Melanie, you'll be too busy on stage to worry about doing the stage hands' work."

"I'm the curtains perator, " said Joanie solemnly.

"Yes you are! O-perator" smiled Louisa, truly glad that this solution was meeting with Joanie's approval.

"O-perator,"repeated Joanie. "Will anyone see me mum?"

"No, curtains operators stay behind the curtains, never in front. "

Joanie smiled broadly: this was perfect!


That afternoon the children went back to Ruth's cottage for tea, stopping here and there to admire the Christmas decorations on store fronts and private houses alike. It made the village look happy, thought Joanie. She particularly liked white blinking lights and red ribbons, while James paid more attention to a big wooden replica of a smiling Father Christmas. After some of this sight-seeing they were both cold and hungry and ran to Aunt Ruth's place.

Al was not at Ruth's this day. Ruth had already arranged scones and biscuits on the same platter as the day before, and the tea was steaming and ready to be poured. The children eagerly helped themselves.

"James, Joanie, I need to make some important phone calls," said the old lady after a while.

"Is it about your book on all the mad people in the village?" asked James.

"It's entitled Village Madness, and it's not only about Portwenn, but yes. They want to make a documentary from the book."

"Did it make you rich Aunt Ruth? Your book?"

"Well, I don't know about rich, but it is a non-fiction best seller. That means a lot of people buy the book."

"Good." commented James.

"So can I trust you two to look after yourselves for a time?" inquired the old lady.

"Of course Aunt Ruth!" James assured her enthusiastically, as this was an unforeseen opportunity to activate his plan. "But can we play with your computer?"

"You could use the laptop computer I suppose, but I don't think there are any games in it, James." said Ruth.

"Oh yes there are."

"How do you know?"

"Because there are games in your computer when you buy it. When dad bought his new laptop he spent a long time erasing all the games, except chess."

"I see. I think we need to look at these games together first."

Ruth had James bring her laptop to the kitchen table and opened it.

"Here you go James. Where are these games?"

"Let's see… you press this key and it takes you to all the icons…and you look for the games icon… and there it is, the green one!"

"I never saw this," mumbled Ruth clicking on the games icon. "So… only four games luckily. Chess, solitaire, scrabble and… puzzle pieces. "

"Dad had a lot more games."

"I'm sure he was ecstatic."

"What's static?" asked Joanie.

"Very happy" replied Ruth.

"No he wasn't" said James.

"I know, I was being sarcastic," answered Ruth.

"What's scastic?" asked Joanie.

At that moment Ruth was saved by the phone ringing in another room.

"Those games look harmless James, you can play."

"Thank you Aunt Ruth," said James, but already Ruth was out the door. James started speaking to his sister then in a whisper: "Joanie, now we get the train ticket and book the hotel for mum."

"Why, where is mum going?"

"To London silly, to be with dad. It's their second honeymoon."

"Why?"

"So they make up."

"You don't need that anymore 'cause I'm the curtains perator now."

"Joanie, how many times do I have to tell you: they did not scream like that because of you not singing in the pageant. It was something more important."

"Sure?"

"Yeah."

"Like what?"

"Like…" James hesitated, as he did not want to tell Joanie what he had heard their parents screaming to each other "…like I don't know, but they need the second honeymoon, like Mikey's parents."

"What's Mikey got to do with it?"

"Nothing, never mind. I'm getting the ticket now. You keep a look-out and tell me if Aunt Ruth is coming back."

"You are not going to tell Aunt Ruth?"

"No, it's a surprise."

"OK." Joanie shrugged and went to stand by the kitchen door.

James was not sure how to find the website to buy the train ticket, but he typed "train tickets Bodmin" in the search bar and after a few tries on the results he recognized the website his dad had been using by its logo and colors.

"Here it is," he whispered. "Going from… Bodmin Parkway… to London… December 20… 17:21. There, now for the credit card… Joanie…JOANIE!"

"Yeah?"

"Do you see Aunt Ruth's handbag?"

"It's on the kitchen counter behind you, you silly."

"Ah, perfect."

James opened the handbag and took out Ruth's wallet. There were quite a few banknotes and plastic cards. James had seen his parents use credit cards enough times that he knew the VISA symbol. He picked one VISA card at random and entered Ruth's card information, just like he had done the day before with his father's. Except of course this was an unauthorized purchase… But it did go through. James went to the printer icon and clicked on that.

"Joanie!" he whispered "Go to Aunt Ruth's printer in the other room and take the paper I'm printing now."

"What is it?"

"Mum's ticket. But shhh! don't show it to Aunt Ruth, it's a surprise, remember?"

"Yeah." And she tiptoed into the other room. She came back rather quickly, triumphant.

"Here!" she whispered "Aunt Ruth is still in her bedroom talking on the phone."

"Good, now the hotel."

James typed "Savoy Hotel London" in the search bar as Martin had done the day before. He found the hotel website even faster than the one for the train tickets.

"OK, we should get the best room," said James.

"Yes, mum likes nice hotel rooms," approved Joanie.

"Mmm..." mumbled James "The ones that cost more are nicer, of course." He spent a few moments clicking here and there and looking at photos. Then he said: "Look at this room! It's huge! It's even got a living room with flowers. Mum likes flowers. I think we should take this one."

Joanie looked at the pictures of the room, or suite as it was, and smiled: "Prettyyyy!" she whispered "I like it. Yes, take this one, mum will like it a lot!"

James then chose the suite and again used Ruth's credit card. This time he did not print anything, as it was bad for the environment. He just copied the hotel confirmation number at the bottom of the train ticket sheet and wrote "Savoy." He folded the paper, put it in his pocket, closed the laptop and bit off another chunk of scone just in time for his grand aunt's return.

"Could I please have some more tea Aunt Ruth?" he asked.

"Sure. Did you play a game then?"

"Yes, a great game."

James couldn't know it, but clearly in the gene pool lottery of life he must have drawn some from Terry Glasson, or he could not have perpetrated this subterfuge with such aplomb. Except he far outdid his grandfather on his first heist, because the total bill for the train and the Churchill Suite at the Savoy Hotel was 1,311 pounds!


The conference room in the London government building was a bit bare, but did have all the necessary equipment, which was mostly a working computer attached to a working projector projecting onto a working screen. There was also a working microphone, but Martin did not need it. His steady, self-assured voice carried through the room without problems. He used a large number of well selected photos illustrating a variety of commonly misdiagnosed conditions and diseases. The young GPs were very attentive, some brighter than others, all in awe (and rather scared) of the legendary Cornwall GP who regularly out-diagnosed correctly even specialists. His practice was number one in the country in practically all areas except bedside manner. No other GP in the country knew half as much as Ellingham, or had equal intuitive powers or surgical skills. People were now coming from neighboring towns when they had a serious health problem which their local doctors could not figure out, and Martin was always eager to meet a medical challenge. The young GPs took copious notes and downloaded all Martin's PowerPoint slides and the information that went with each picture. Towards the end of the day Martin administered a test on the day's materials. He distributed the test and sat down. Louisa came to mind pretty quickly.

Sometimes Martin looked back to the very difficult, wrenchingly emotional two years between the time he and Louisa had become engaged the first time, and the time he was kidnapped by old Mrs. Winton. He had had a difficult life before that, but those two years had been such a roller coaster of despair and bliss, such a confused tangle of events and feelings that in retrospect he thought it was an utter miracle that he and Louisa had come out of it loving each other in a more mature way, more deeply bonded to each other. It was a testament to the depth not only of their sheer passion for each other, but above all to their mutual respect. If they had not had a profound respect for each other as individuals who shared and upheld the same core values, their relationship would never have worked in the long run, it would have become just sex and quarrels in the end, as it had been with Edith.

The greater peace of mind that had followed those turbulent two years had also allowed Martin to revisit his assumptions about his career. While being a small village GP was as unglamorous as vascular surgery was prestigious, it did provide the opportunity to help people in a very direct and substantial way. Martin thought of his most important task as being the first line of defense, the first health triage area that sick people would most frequently come across. Though surgeons saved lives in a highly skilled fashion, a village GP could do that for a lot more people than a surgeon by diagnosing and prescribing correctly. While Martin also saved lives in spectacular fashion from time to time thanks to his old surgery training, he thought that on the whole one saved more people just by helping prevent stroke or heart failure, by diagnosing cancer early, or helping people quit smoking. Once he had come to the conclusion that glamorous had only ever mattered to him because it had been mandated by his horrid parents, being a GP had become far more bearable. He had even been able to return to research, though in a very different way than before. He designed several studies on the effects of various treatments, collecting data from his own practice and others in Cornwall; he published a number of papers about diagnosing techniques; he taught classes at Truro hospital at least once a month. He felt, in other words, that by having accepted his career in Portwenn he had become a more useful health professional than when he had been dreaming a return to surgery.

He collected the tests on the first day's materials and stopped by to answer questions. Finally he was done and realized he was really hungry. He put away notes and papers in his briefcase, put his coat on and left.

After a simple but nourishing meal at a nearby restaurant, he went back to his hotel room. He wanted to review his notes for the next day, but he decided he would call home first.

"Hello Martin," said Louisa. "How was your class?"

"Mm… as you would expect, some good students, some not so much. Is everything well?"

"Yes, all is fine."

At that point Martin began to hear pressing young voices in the background. The children were asking to talk to him.

"Martin, I actually have to get back to the pots, I am cooking dinner right now. But you have two very eager young people here who want to talk to you."

"Right. I miss you."

"And we miss you too." Louisa passed the phone to James who was jumping up and down.

"Dad!" he said "How are you?"

"I'm fine James, and you?"

"OK. Where are you? "

"In my hotel room. "

"At the Savoy."

"Yes."

"Are you by yourself dad?"

"Yes."

"All by yourself? No company at all?"

"Yes, and no, no company at all."

"Are you sure dad?"

"Yes I'm sure! I have not suddenly developed Alzheimer's."

"What? You with Al Zeimer? A man?"

"JAMES! Pay attention boy: I said I am here by myself, I'm not with Al or anybody else, man or woman. Why do you keep asking whether I'm with somebody? "

"Oh, nothing…just curious is all."

"Did you have a good day?" Martin asked to change the subject.

"It was OK. We went to Aunt Ruth for tea 'cause mum needs to do a lot of paperwork. "

"Good of Ruth to help."

"She had scones and biscuits. "

"Or the usual empty calories. "

"They were really good dad, you should try a scone some time. "

"Mm… How is your sister? "

"Fine. She's right here and she really wants to talk to you. "

"Ok, put her on then James."

"Bye dad."

"Bye James."

Joanie took the phone with a huge smile and yelled: "DADDYYYYY!"

"Joanie, don't scream. You sound happy tonight," said Martin quite pleased.

"I'm curtains perator!"

"You are what? "

"Curtains perator!"

"I'm not sure what that means," said a baffled Martin.

"Silly daddy!" Joanie giggled. "It means you open and close the curtains. "

"What curtains? "

"The pageant curtains. It's a switch that Al made."

"I see. Do you mean you will be opening and closing the stage curtains at the Christmas pageant? "

"'xactly. And I have to stay behind the curtain. "

"You don't have to sing then?"

"No. Mum says this is a more important job. And nobody will see me."

"Mm… I always like to see you."

"OK."

James voice could be heard in the background now saying: "Supper is ready Joanie, mum says to come to the table! "

"I have to go daddy."

"Can you do me a favor Joanie and tell something to your mother for me?"

"Yes."

"Tell her: well done!"

"Well done. OK. Got to go, bye!"

"Bye Joanie."

Martin hung up, satisfied. It was indeed well done, he felt really proud of his wife, she seemed to have found a solution for Joanie which made their little girl happy.

Martin reviewed all his notes, modified a few items on the PowerPoint slides and added a few pictures. He also revised and adjusted the test questions the young GPs would have to answer tomorrow. Finally satisfied with the way he would cover the material, he switched off the laptop, stretched a bit and decided to call it a night. He got ready for bed in a few minutes, went under the blankets and switched off the light. Better get a good night sleep, as he had a lot to do tomorrow. The day would be long indeed, considering they would have dinner together as a class after the test. Martin didn't think much about having a pre-organized dinner with the young GPs. The food would probably be ghastly. However, it might be better than tonight's loneliness, especially considering that some of those young doctors were rather bright and had asked good questions throughout the day.

Martin turned around a few times and sighed. Though he was sleeping on a single bed and there was no huge empty space near him, still the lack of Louisa's warm, soft body was unmistakable. He had so grown used to having her close to him at night that he felt rather deprived at the moment. Louisa, the love of his life. She was truly wonderful. She was beautiful, and he did not mean just her appearance, she was a beautiful soul as well. She cared for people deeply, for the entire village in fact. She worked hard at her job to make her school the best it could possibly be. She was a loving mother, always thinking of little and big ways to make the children happy without spoiling them. She was a loving wife too. Her fiery temper he did not appreciate when she directed her anger at him, but… it was the source of much that was accomplished at the school, of several village improvements, and, when all was said and done, of several advancements in their relationship: if Louisa had not pushed him to come out of his shell he might never have taken those essential steps to get closer to her. What a smile she had... She could be as naturally lighthearted as it was equally impossible for him to be. To think that this wonderful woman loved him, was his wife, was his! He grabbed one of the many unnecessary pillows on his bed and hugged it tight. It did not smell like Louisa at all, rather like some fake, dead flower. Disgusting detergent smell. He threw it away, only to reach for it again a little later, as it was still better than hugging himself. Slowly he drifted off, eventually.