Chapter 9

I sit through the morning session. The presentations don't hold much interest for me. Maybe it's because the findings are not so new after all, maybe it's because my mind is distracted by private matters.

Before I'd met Louisa, I could never imagine anything could distract my attention from clinical matters, anything could make me not pay 100% attention to my job. I've learned now that there are more important things in life. If I'd been given the choice to keep my job and lose my family or lose my job for the sake of Louisa or James, I'd choose the latter.

I ponder about that while someone prattles on about how to buy time in case of a stroke. I tune into the speech from time to time to make sure that I'm not missing anything of any value, but until now it seems I can easily follow my thoughts.

Finally it's coffee break. Noon. That means it is tea time in England.

I will never understand why every conference is interrupted every third hour and a parade of absolutely useless snacks is offered. Especially in our profession people should know better.

I take a glass of bottled water and withdraw into a quiet corner. No one seems to notice my departure. The good thing is, hardly anyone is ever interested in you here. I'll miss that.

After thinking about my plan the whole morning I'm far less convinced about its soundness as I've been during the night or even this morning, but I've set the wheels rolling, and now I've got to stick with my plan.

After calming my nerves with a sip of water, I speed dial the farm's telephone number again. It rings three times.

"Hello?" It's the familiar voice of my aunt, and I'm not quite certain if I should be glad that she answered or not.

"Uhm…Ruth, it's me. Martin."

"Ah."

"Yes. I wanted to talk to you."

"Obviously."

"Ehm…yes."

"I thought you were on a conference somewhere over the Big Pond."

"Ithaca." I specify.

"And suddenly you've got the irrepressible urge to talk to your old aunt?"

"No."

"What is it then? Did they talk about a new treatment for Sjögren's?"

"It's a surgeon's conference."

"Oh yes, I forgot. You're back to real medicine again."

"Surgery."

"That's what I mean."

"I have no time for chit-chat. I'm calling during a coffee break."

"Then fire ahead. I'm all ears."

"Can we stay at your farm this weekend?"

"Why?"

"Simple enough question – yes or no."

"Martin, don't tell me you're so occupied that you can't even explain your sudden wish to come to Cornwall years after you couldn't leave it quick enough?"

"It's personal."

"So it's Louisa."

"She doesn't know."

"I thought she might have insisted on a visit after what I told you the last time on the phone."

"She doesn't know."

"So you kept that information to yourself? Very wise."

"She didn't want to know."

"How could she decide that she didn't want to know without knowing what you're talking about?"

"She doesn't want to know anything about Portwenn."

There is a pause at the other end of the line and I can practically hear my aunt thinking.

"You do realise what that means?" She finally asks.

"I'm not a complete idiot."

"No, no idiot, but sometimes…when other people are involved."

"Louisa isn't any other people."

"I realise that."

"Good."

"But if she doesn't want to know anything about Portwenn, how come you need a room for the weekend?"

"I think she should know."

"Sort of a surprise visit?"

"Uhum."

"And you really do think that this is a good idea?"

"Yes." I state with more conviction than I'm feeling.

"Did you think about the possible consequences? Are you willing to accept them?"

"Yes." This time I can answer wholeheartedly as I had hardly done anything else but think about the possible consequences in the last twelve hours and I am hell bound to do whatever it takes to make our life a happier one.

"Right." I hear my aunt. "You're old enough to know what you're doing, but don't come whinging if Louisa makes plans you don't like."

"I won't!" I am hurt that obviously all of my relations seem to takes me for an egocentric needy little brat.

"Great. I'm reminding you in case you do. So, I will have two guests over the weekend?"

"Three."

"Oh no! You're not bringing James, are you? I'm really not used to accommodating children. How exactly do you make a house childproof?"

"James is well-behaved and we won't leave him alone."

"Tut, tut, tut. Who would have ever thought that I would live to see the day. To see an Ellingham have family feelings? You're really one of a kind, Martin."

"I'd say it is quite normal to care for your offspring. Humans are not nidifugous and depend on their parents for the first years of their life."

"Is that your idea or do I hear Louisa speaking?"

"It's a biological fact."

"I do know biology, Martin, but to be honest, in this family I've never experienced anything like it."

"Then you'll need to get used to it."

"Will you all be staying in the same room, or do I have to prepare two separate rooms – or even three, in case Louisa is not so enthusiastic about your surprise?"

"Very funny." I sneer. "Two."

"Good. Two rooms coming up. I'm ashamed to admit to it, but I'm looking forward to seeing you."

"Good. Uhm, can you pick us up at Bodmin Parkway?"

"Oh, so you need a room and shuttle service?"

"We can take a taxi."

"Don't be ridiculous. The old Merc has seen better days, but it will survive one trip to the station. When will you arrive?"

"I'll check then call you as soon as I have booked the train. I assume you still don't have an email address?"

"Wouldn't make much sense without a computer. I like the physical experience of writing."

"How's the progress on your book?"

"Martin, how long are the coffee breaks at your conference? Don't you have to get back?"

With that, she rings off.

To be continued…