Chapter 54
Back in Portwenn our paths didn't cross much. Even when we had agreed to meet, the inevitable emergency kept Martin away. So it wasn't before Thursday that we finally ran into each other. Literally.
I was trying to rush into the green grocers just before closing time as I had been running behind all day, when I ran into someone coming out of the shop at exactly the same moment I was trying to enter it. I just wanted to start swearing when my eyes fell on spotlessly polished fine leather shoes.
"Martin?" I gasped while looking up.
Martin was trying to balance his shopping so as not to let anything drop. A tomato had freed itself from the confines of a paper bag and was toppling over. Martin managed to snap his hand forward to catch it, but not without bumping his hand into my chest and squeezing some of its juice on me.
"Sorry, I'm sorry." He mumbled, starting to inspect my front for any damage. It was a bit weird having him standing there in front of the shop shamelessly staring at my cleavage. Automatically he grabbed his hankie and started dabbing at my front.
"It's alright. Nothing has happened." I tried to assure him, hoping to end his action before anyone read anything more into it.
"Louisa, I wanted… I mean I tried to call, after the weekend. Last weekend…" Martin started a long-winded explanation, for which I didn't have any time at all unfortunately.
"Sorry, Martin. I'm in a hurry. I have absolutely nothing at home, so I've simply got to get to the green grocer and the fish monger before they close." I looked at my watch and sighed. "Which is more or less now."
"Sure. Sorry." Martin stepped aside and when I passed him, I just saw the shop door close in front of my eyes.
"There goes my supper." I sighed.
Martin looked at his shopping bag dangling from his arm and at the paper bag full of veggies.
"I've got plenty." He said. "Uhm…if you haven't got anything, you can join me. I mean, for dinner. It should be more than enough for the two of us."
"You're sure?" I smiled up at him, suddenly I had all the time in the world.
"Absolutely. Otherwise it'll just go to waste."
"We can't allow that, can we?" My mood definitely heightened.
"Would be a shame. So if you want to…" Martin paused and squinted his eyes, looking at me sceptically. "You do want to?"
"Yes, Martin." I sighed relieved and smiled at him to prove my point. "I would like that very much."
Martin straightened up abruptly, his face relaxed. "Good. Dinner will be ready at six."
"Yeah, great. I'll be there. Sharp." There was a spring in my step when I returned to my cottage.
Soon at home I found out that I didn't have as much time on my hands as I had hoped for. Martin's strict eating regime caused me to hurry to get ready in time. After all, I didn't want to look like a stressed school teacher that had worried about snotty noses all day, but like a woman who could be suitable company for a suave man like Martin. So I quickly hopped under the shower before choosing my outfit carefully. Nothing too enticing, as I didn't want to be too obvious. After all, I didn't want to present myself on a silver plate, but try to awake Martin's hunting instinct.
After putting on some make up and sorting my hair, which I decided to wear down tonight, I just put on a whiff of Kenzo flower and I was ready to go.
Hurrying through the small lanes of my beloved home town I got a taste of why Martin abhorred it so much. I couldn't walk ten steps without anyone commenting how nice I looked and if I was up to something special. I greeted everyone friendly and just told them that it was a nice summer evening and I just felt like making the most of it.
I loved people being interested in what I did. I didn't like the anonymity of big cities when you could melt into the background and walk around unnoticed for days. In London, I bet you could even wear a monkey suit without anyone even batting an eye.
Here in Portwenn everyone noticed how you were feeling. If you were happier they were happy for you. If you looked sadder than normal, they would come trying to cheer you up. No matter how you were feeling, you weren't alone.
And alone was exactly how Martin wanted to be. He seemed most content when no one noticed him, which was difficult with him standing 6'3'' tall.
However, it seemed he had started to make one exception. He had invited me.
I made my way to the back door. Rule number one in the country – never use the front door. Even Martin seemed to embrace this habit. Passing his kitchen window I saw him pottering about at the stove, apron over his suit.
I knocked and a moment later Martin opened the door perfectly dressed in suit and coat. I noticed the apron hanging on a hook near the kitchen door.
"Louisa." He breathed my name.
I smiled to myself. "I'm not late, am I?"
Martin looked at his watch. "Not at all. Dead on time."
"Good." I supposed that was high praise coming from Martin. I looked around, seeing steaming pots and pans. "Can I help?"
Martin looked around as if he had to decide on the answer. "No. Everything's ready to be served." He gestured towards his kitchen table where two plates were laid out, two glasses and a carafe of water.
I took my seat and watched Martin filling the plate with chicken breast, fresh potatoes and ratatouille.
We started eating, but after a while I needed some conversation to go with my food.
"So how's the sale of your flat coming along?"
"Hm, no progress yet, as expected. The agent needed this week to make the necessary advert. It'll go on offer this weekend."
"Ah, right. So it'll probably be some time before they can sell?"
"The agent was pretty optimistic. It is after all a very popular area. The flat is a good size and is well maintained. He assumed it wouldn't take long before he could sell it."
"That's good, I suppose." I agreed with Martin without much conviction. I still didn't think it was right that Martin had lost a good investment just to throw the money into his father's throat.
"Hm." Martin grunted, whatever that meant.
"Does Joan know about this by now?" I asked, knowing well I was venturing into dangerous waters. I was rewarded with a scrutinising look from Martin. Feeling uneasy about the suspicion in his eyes, I quickly added. "Not by me, obviously, but maybe you've called her?"
Martin put his knife and fork down for a moment, and I waited anxiously for his answer. Instead he reached very slowly for his water and carefully took a few sips. It seemed almost like a ritual to clear his thoughts, or maybe he did have emotions he had to get under control. Obviously the water had helped, although I knew this effect only from stronger brews. Martin resumed eating his meal.
"I couldn't reach her." He informed me stiffly.
"So you tried to call?"
He nodded slowly. "Yes."
"Why didn't you try again? I think you should talk."
"Of course I tried again." He replied impatiently, just keeping himself from shouting.
"Oh, and she was never in?"
"Hm."
"Did you leave a message?" I knew I was getting nosy, but there must be something to sort this sorry affair between those two, especially as it was all a misunderstanding.
Martin rolled his eyes. "Yes."
"And she didn't call back?"
"Obviously."
I gnawed on my chicken carefully. I let a couple of minutes pass, but couldn't let the subject rest.
"You're supposing she doesn't want to talk to you?" I asked carefully and lowly.
Martin stopped chewing, then sighed. "A lot to do on the farm."
"That's nonsense, and you know it." I replied firmly. "That has never stopped her from visiting you. Or has she ever stopped talking to you for so long since you've been down here?"
"Louisa, my aunt is not obliged to speak to me."
Martin's harsh tone made me stop for a moment, but after recovering I voiced my opinion clearly. "This is absolutely childish, from both of you. I still think Joan has a right to know what you're doing for her, and she should give you a chance to explain yourself. You two not talking to each other for a week is….stupid." Martin looked up alarmed. "And no, Martin – I won't tell her. It's not my place to intervene. You two should solve it like adults."
To be continued…
