Chapter 37

Louisa and Martin went downstairs. Louisa had poured herself a glass of wine and placed herself onto the couch. Martin had settled himself at the small table, still uncomfortable about the way the day had gone. He didn't dare to make eye contact. He felt ashamed that he had turned out to be as bad a father as he feared he would be. At least he thought so.

Louisa let a few minutes pass. Finally, she addressed what had been lurking under the surface the whole day.

"You know, Martin, when my mother left us, I really felt very bad. I felt guilty and rejected. Somehow I thought she left because I was too much trouble. That father was deserted because of me."

"But that's rubbish!"

"No Martin. Let me tell you about it." He leaned forwards and listened quietly. "I felt I had to make it up to him for making mum leave. There was no chance to discuss anything with anybody. No one ever told me why she had really left us. Everyone plastered on a smile and kept going on as normally as possible. Dad showed me all the affection and comforted me. I really grew close to him over this loss. We were all we had." Martin grunted his disapproval, but Louisa decided to ignore it. "The village was supporting me with all its love and help, but I noticed it was far less supportive to my father. I didn't know why then." Martin mumbled "I wonder why." But again, Louisa ignored him.

"Dad was never good at practical things, so the house became rather shabby and untidy quickly." Martin distorted his face in disgust. "Therefore I started to take things in hand. Tried to sort out regular meals, keep the place tidy. That sort of thing. Father always lauded me, what a good girl I was and how beautiful, always telling me what he almost bought me. Always inventing some stupid excuse why he finally hadn't. But he made me feel special. He relied upon me, and I felt so grown up, because I had someone who needed me. Whom I had to care for. I learned pretty quickly to be independent, to be strong, but I didn't mind. Really I didn't. I liked to be in control. And dad always appreciated what I did."

"The whole village made it easy for me, knowing what I'd been through. I always had their full support. Looking back, it was quite a good time. I missed my mother, of course, but I did feel special. And I felt loved. There was never a steady income, though. Sometimes dad hit it big, came home with loads of presents and lots of unnecessary crap. He never had a sense for what's important. Then we would have a field day and he would be spoiling me. Then long periods of droughts. All the promises about a proper job, but not just any job, but the job, a big one. Of course. And of course it never came. We struggled to keep the boat afloat. And somehow we always did. On the way we had lots of laughs. Dad was always good at making me laugh.

Then one day those rumours in the village. Everyone looking at us suspiciously, even with hostility. It wasn't so bad for me. Just whispers behind the back. Some faked sympathy, but for my dad it became intolerable. Everyone isolated him. I tried to make life bearable for him. I failed. He left the village. I was completely deserted and had to cope on my own. Dad didn't want me to come with him. He wanted to make a name for himself. Build a home for us before he let me come. Of course he never did."

"But I don't regret much. The only thing I really cursed myself for is always believing his damned lies. I really did."

"Joan said that loyalty in families is often close to delusion."

"Maybe she's right. I believe now. She has a very down to earth approach to life. Lots of common sense."

"I wouldn't know what I'd have done without Aunty Joan."

"You really do care for her, don't you?"

"The only family I ever had."

"She was like a mother to you, wasn't she?"

"Yes. Holidays at her farm were the only good time I ever had."

"You must have been devastated when you weren't allowed to visit any more."

"Worst thing was that no one explained to me why I wasn't allowed to visit. I thought Joan didn't want me too. I thought I did something to annoy her, too. It was just when I returned as GP here that she told me that I had always been welcome."

"But your parents must have said something?"

"Just that I was never to spend my holidays in Cornwall again. They never explained anything."

"But you must have noticed that you were welcome?"

"I never notice anything."

"So what did you do during your holidays afterwards?"

"I had to spend them with my parents. Dad wanted to brush up my manners." Martin spat the last words in disgust.

"I can't imagine you being a rascal and Joan said you were always a quite sensitive, shy and quiet little boy."

Martin looked up. "You talked with her about me?"

"Sorry, Martin I realised that I needed to try to understand you. You were quite right when you told me that 'love' is quite a big word when I hardly knew you. I was attracted, but love should be more. And for that I have to know more. I want to understand what made you the person you're now."

Martin looked up towards her. He felt she had trapped him into starting the conversation he was hoping to avoid. However, this time the atmosphere was a bit different. She had been quieter. But why brush up those old stories?

"Look, Louisa, do you really think it's necessary to talk about this? It's ghastly for me."

"Peter has a right to know about his grandparents. I bet it won't be long before he asks questions about them."

"Just tell him we have nothing to do with them."

Louisa sighed. "I told you my story, and it's not a very nice one either. Why don't you repay the trust?"

Martin sighed and got up. He went over to the window. He had found out in the sessions with Whitby that it was easier to talk when you didn't face the person you were talking to. Now he looked out to the harbour, one hand behind his back.

"Did you ever meet my parents?"

"Unfortunately not."

"You're lucky, really."

"Never heard anyone mention your mother, but Mark and Pauline were quite impressed with your father."

Martin grunted.

"What, Martin?"

"It was so embarrassing. Being in that damned pub just because Dad insisted on socialising with the village folk. And of course we had to run into love struck Mark Mylow and this horrid woman. Dad was gawping at her. It was disgusting! All that stupid sweet talk with Mark about his 'big step'. Gawd! Then the sneering about Mark when we went back to the surgery. I can tell you that the big impression wasn't mutual."

"What did he say?"

"Something about Mark having to use his job not to lose her – he had to lock her up to keep her."

Louisa was shocked. Martin paused. He didn't know if he should tell the whole thing, but now that he started to talk it didn't matter. So he continued. "Dad said Mark and I were two peas in a pod – I'd had to drug them to keep them." Louisa didn't know what hurt her most. What his father had said or the calm way Martin talked about it. He was talking about it matter-of-factly.

"He never thought much about me. He belittled me for all of my life. I was too weak for his taste – he would have liked to have a real man. Not such a whimp. He would have loved it if I would have been the one bullying the others, not the one being bullied. I'm quite a coward, really. I hate physical violence. I always tried to hide away. Much to the disgust of my father."

"I also disappointed him in not being interested in money. I don't have many wishes. I've got everything I need. I was never into status symbols. Dad liked to show off. Could never understand why it didn't mean anything to me. We always had enough money. I never had to worry about monetary things. And I never did. I simply didn't care."

"We had our biggest falling out when I refused to follow him into the Navy. Can you imagine – me in the services? I know. It's ridiculous. But he couldn't see it. He insisted. I had finished my studies, was in my late twenties. He had no power over me, legally. But he insisted. I always tried to please him, do him proud. Don't ask me why. I wanted to be a good son. I had disappointed him so much, didn't want to disappoint him again. But I couldn't do that. We didn't speak for years."

"When he wrote to say they were coming to visit me in Cornwall we hadn't spoken a word for seven years. I hoped he had forgotten all about me. But again, I couldn't refuse. I should have. I couldn't. They were my parents after all. The only thing I learned about family was that it should appear intact and that others had to believe everything was fine. To pretend that everything was alright. It was rooted deep down within me and I obliged. I even had them stay at my place. If I had only known. They weren't coming to visit me at all. Why should they?"

"Dad made it pretty clear that I was a loser in his eyes. Could there be anything more worthless than being a GP in Portwenn? That wasn't a career! The house was not big enough, I should invest more, get a decent house. He couldn't see that being responsible for the welfare of a community can be quite rewarding." Louisa smiled. She had no idea that he felt about his position in Portwenn that way.

"Then he innocently questioned me about the value of properties in Cornwall. I'm such an idiot! I honestly answered what I thought Joan's farm was worth. Of course he quoted me when he addressed Joan about his claim on her farm. Joan was really angry with me. Mother putting the pressure on me telling me she wanted us to go home. Joan throwing me out. Dad being smug. I was lost." Martin sighed. Louisa wasn't sure if she should ask the question that was burning in her mind. To test if she had figured out what happened. She had to risk it now or would never find out.

"I'm glad that you could solve it for Joan. How much did you pay your father?"

Alarmed Martin turned around and glowered over at her. "Joan did tell you then. Can't anyone keep anything to themselves?"

"She didn't tell, but it wasn't too difficult to work out. If your father thought he was entitled to part of the heritage there are just two possibilities for him not to claim it. There could be legal proof that he was wrong and had no right to claim it. Joan would know more about that and she's quite capable of fighting her own battle. So there would have been no need for you to interfere. The only other way I can think of is that he was compensated. Joan is always short of money. Therefore she would have had to sell her farm to be able to pay him off. So I guessed that you paid him off." Martin nodded. It made sense. "How much did you pay?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Must have been quite a sum."

"I could manage."

"Why are you so shy about it? Joan told me you didn't even want her to know, but that your father didn't respect that. She was not sure if she would be on speaking terms with you if he hadn't told her. Why did you risk that?"

"It was nothing. That was what families are there for, isn't it? Everyone would have done it. Joan shouldn't feel she has to be thankful."

"Oh Martin." Louisa sighed in exasperation. "Even you must know that very few people would pay so much money for someone else. Especially when it was just an aunt."

"What do you mean 'just an aunt'! Joan is the only family I ever had!"

"I wasn't belittling her. Honestly. But it's not the closest relative – like parent or child. And even for them I hardly know anyone who would do it."

Martin grunted disapprovingly. He didn't have to think twice at the time. He hadn't seen any other solution, so it was natural for him to pay his father off.

"But what did your mother say about it?" Martin grunted.

"She had caused the whole turmoil. Father and his brilliant investment." Martin spat out a bitter laugh. "He had lost all his bloody money in some dodgy business. They just had their villa in Portugal as it was officially mother's. So she was about to leave my father to move in with some lover. Father had virtually nothing."

"But she surely wouldn't leave after such a long marriage just because he was financially unlucky."

"You don't know my mother. She had married my father for his money and status. For more than 40 years that was the only reason why she had stayed with him."

Louisa just thought about it and it hit her, that this was covering almost all of Martin's life.

"So throughout your whole life they were just married out of convenience."

Martin nodded.

"So you never saw signs of love between them ever?"

Martin shook his head. He took a deep breath. "Dad lost interest after I was born. He didn't see her as a woman anymore, just a mother. A 'deflated balloon'."

"Martin!"

He realised that Louisa felt offended. So he quickly reassured her: "It's not what I think! I'm just quoting! Honest!"

Louisa looked in shock towards him.

"It was what Mum said."

"You're not serious?" Louisa gasped. Martin turned towards the windows again.

"She never wanted to be a mother. She wanted to fool around with dad and have a posh, carefree life. A needy child like me didn't fit in."

Louisa couldn't bear any longer to watch his back. She got up and went over to him. He didn't turn around, so she leaned against his back to show him that she was there.

"Why did they have you in the first place then?"

"I suppose Dad wanted a 'son and heir'. Couldn't have been more disappointed. Fortunately they never tried it again. I suppose mother would have objected strongly." Something suddenly hit Louisa.

"Why do you know all this? Who told you?"

"Mum did. During the last visit. She didn't speak to me. She was staying at my place and didn't speak to me. I couldn't bear it any longer and asked her why. Then she told me that I had ruined her life. 40 years wasted just because of me. 40 years clinging to my father, just because of me." Louisa was shocked and squeezed his arm to comfort him. Suddenly he turned around and with anger in his eyes he shot at her.

"Actually, do you know what I did after she accused me of ruining her life?"

"What?"

"I apologised!"

"You, what? There are dozens of things that come to my mind that I would have done to her. Apologising is none of them."

"I know. I can't believe it now, either. At the time it seemed right to me. Now I'm furious that I did it. Today, I certainly would react otherwise. At one point I thought I should tell her what I really think. Then I realised, that there's no use in bothering. I simply don't want to see them again, ever."

Martin was quiet for a time. Then he sighed and continued.

"You know, funny thing is that I was always convinced it way my fault. I mean…" he swallowed "…I'm not really the most likable person. No one ever liked me. So why should my parents?"

"I was always pretty sure the way they treated me was perfectly justified. To keep me in check, they had to be strict. Before talking about it with Whitby, I never questioned it. He told me that their behaviour was outrageous. I would have never realised that myself, and even when he told me, I just accepted it intellectually. It was a pure head thing."

"Just seeing Peter being happy when he's with you, seeing him – being so much like me – actually thoroughly happy, I realise what kind of life I could have had. How different things might have been. How much I missed."

"It's not too late?" Louisa suggested hopefully.

Martin looked down at Louisa, thoroughly sad. "Oh Louisa, it's so darn difficult." He sighed. "I really try to make it work, but I have to watch myself all the time, always on guard that I don't hurt you again. And then, I go and do it. Then my old habits get the better of me and I can see how much I hurt you. I don't know how long I can stand that. You know about old dogs?"

"But thankfully you're not a dog." Louisa laughed. "I don't think I told you yet, but I'm very proud of you. Proud, how you have tried to get a grip on your life. I'm also quite flattered that you went through all this for me. It will be difficult, but we will get there. Maybe you can even be happy someday."

"Just make sure that Peter is happy, I would like to see what could have been if my childhood had been different."

Now he had capitulated. Louisa put her hands around him, squeezed him as good as she could and whispered into his chest. "I'm so sorry."

"Please, don't be. That's exactly why I didn't want to tell you."

"Were you so shocked to see me pregnant because of that?"

"I think it was part of the problem. Mother made it clear she had ceased to exist as a woman because she had me. Now I had done the same to you."

Louisa reached up to stroke his hair. "You silly man! I always wanted to have children. I was delighted. Not about the circumstances, but the child was the best thing that could have happened to me." Louisa stayed in that embrace, trying to cope with all this sad information. Then suddenly she thought about her behaviour towards Martin while she was expecting Peter. She looked up at Martin, gently placing one hand on his cheek.

"Oh Martin! And then I behaved so insensitively towards you during my pregnancy! You must have felt that history was repeating itself!"

"I thought it was perfectly understandable. Given what I had done to you."

"It was bound to go wrong between us. You really should have told me. Thank you for your trust."

Bashfully he looked down, taking on a definite shade of red. Louisa smiled. She was glad that she finally knew. He really hadn't had a chance to react correctly to the news of being a father. She took his hand and dragged him to the sofa. He sat down and she curled up beside him. He had absentmindedly started to stroke her hair. After a while Martin said: "You know, I wanted to tell you about my parents at the time of their visit." Louisa was surprised and looked up at him.

"But when I came around to offer to talk to you, you just told me to shut up."

"You had chosen the worst possible moment to turn up. That's why I wanted to apologise later, but then you were too busy with Danny."

There was still jealousy in his voice. Although Danny was somewhere in London, it was him she was leaning onto now.

"Oh, I remember. When you came because Danny's lungs had collapsed. When you made that horrid comment about Danny and me having a history together."

"Before I even came into the house, I already wanted to apologise. You didn't let me."

"Actually, I thought Danny was dying, so I didn't feel like chatting."

"So we both chose the wrong moment to speak."

"The tragedy of our relationship. I hope we're more in tune now."

She sat up slightly to rest herself against his shoulder, stroking it lightly. He smiled down at her.

"Do you know how it felt seeing you and Danny renovating his house for the two of you?"

"I guess I know how it feels – like seeing Edith in your kitchen."

Martin took in a deep breath to protest violently against this comparison, but for once decided to keep silent.

"At least they're both a thing of the past now. Let's allow them to rest there, shall we?"

"Yes, Martin." She was glad that he finally was able to control himself better. She had noticed that he was about to say something nasty. It was almost palpable. The more she appreciated that he had changed his mind. She was even more glad that he put his arm around her and pressed her closer.

"In one point your father was right." Louisa sighed contentedly.

"What point's that?" Martin raised an eyebrow.

"You drugged me to keep me."

"You can't possibly think…you're not accusing me…?" Martin stuttered indignantly.

"Face it, Martin. Whenever you touch me you send a true overdose of endorphins through my body. You should know."

Martin smiled, leaned down and with a gentle kiss he gave her another shot of her hormone therapy. By now Louisa was sure of one thing - she wanted to reward him for finally opening up to her.

To be continued…