Chapter 53 – Invisible

Useful; a nice word, but one which placed emphasis on the mere handiness of the man and not on other things. I had to bite my lip. I had needed a job, and I was pregnant, and I did miss Martin. So I had come back to the village and after too many ups-and-downs, had moved in with Martin. Being with Martin was handy. He cleaned house scrupulously, fixed me hearty meals, watched over my health like a hawk, and was a steadfast provider of various goods for our baby to be. But those weren't the real reasons I'd come home. So was missing Martin the prime reason I returned to Portwenn?

The Vicar smiled at us.

"What?" Martin spat at him.

The Vicar bobbed his grey head. "As I told you before if I may be of service, merely ask me how and when."

Martin started to snort then stopped as he turned to catch my eye. "Uhm… I don't… know."

"Thank you, Vicar," I said. "Appreciate it. Perhaps I can come see you again? Any idea on when they might discharge you?"

The Vicar scowled. "Up to the medicos. Any day Ellingham?"

Martin shrugged. "You're not my patient. Up to the hospital consultant. But I might expect in two days, perhaps."

The Vicar took my hand when I stood. "Miss Glasson, thank you for coming and the flowers – and the mags as well." He nodded gravely at Martin. "Ellingham."

"Vicar," Martin muttered.

Martin held my hand as we walked away from the Vicar's room. "That was nice of you."

He raised his eyebrows. "Nice?"

"To say it aloud like that."

"What?"

I glanced at him and his puzzled brow. "That you'd be useful," I told him, in the most lighthearted tone possible.

"Uhm," his mouth snapped. "I try to be, that is I hope that I am."

Our baby kicked me as a reminder. "Martin," I sighed, "You've been…"

"Louisa! Mart!" a voice yelled from behind us.

Martin grunted, "Parsons." He stopped walking, dropped my hand and turned to look behind us.

I turned as well and saw Chris Parsons trotting up to us. "Glad I caught you before you left."

"Hello Chris," I said. "Martin's told me he'll still be our GP. That's nice; very."

Martin and Chris looked at one another silently.

"Come on you two. What's that look for?" I asked them.

Martin ducked his head. "Nothing. Uhm, Chris, we were just leaving. I'm certain that Louisa is tired; needs her rest."

Chris beamed at me. "I'm sure you are. How are you?" he asked me.

"Doing fine, Chris. How's Diana?" I asked, mentioning his wife. "And the kids?"

"Fine, fine. And how's this baby coming along?"

Martin stepped in. "She's just had a scan, and as I told you in your office, despite the lack of rational vigor of SOME of your staff…"

I could tell his blood pressure was going up so I touched his hand. "Mar – tin. It's sorted." I addressed Chris next. "The baby is fine, apparently. And bigger obviously. The scan gave me a turn for a few minutes though. But thank God Martin was with me." I hugged his arm briefly in gratitude.

The baby aimed a kick right at my bladder. "If you two boys want to hash out medical stuff any further then excuse me while I find a loo."

Chris pointed down the way. "Round the corner."

I found the loo easily and when emerging from the washroom, could hear Martin and Chris, for they were standing just around the corner.

Chris was saying, "I could see that."

"What do you really want?" Martin asked him gruffly.

"Well… I…"

"What?"

Chris laughed. "Mart, you don't have to be this way with me."

He ducked. "Why does that even brook comment?"

"You know."

I head Martin sigh. "Chris, look, I'm fine and she's fine…"

"I saw you holding her hand."

Martin sighed. "She's the mother of my child for God's sake! What is it with you people?"

"And as you told me in my office not twenty minutes past that you are certain how you feel. So…"

"There is no need to say more. Quit hashing it over!"

"Calm down, Mart. God! And no I'm not hashing anything over. But good Lord telling her you're staying as GP because you've finally laid to rest any hopes of going back to surgery are just one thing."

Martin whispered something I didn't catch.

"As for the other…"

"Drop it Chris!"

"Mart, I'm probably the oldest friend you have and I do – uhm, shall we say value – what you confided in me."

"A friend yes; one amongst few, I fear," Martin grunted.

Chris sighed. "I won't say a thing to Louisa, nor will I tell my wife."

Martin shuffled his feet. "Good. Right."

"But with all this business behind you? You must see…"

"What I can see Chris is that you are butting in!"

"Okay, okay. I'll let it go. My you are a grumpy bugger. But you must see you can't go on this way."

Clearly this wasn't anything I was supposed to hear. I tiptoed backwards a few steps, silently pushed open the loo door, then pulled it shut so it made a noise. Then making sure my shoes made noise I left the short corridor and went around the corner into the main hall way.

Martin had his arms crossed and Chris was inspecting his watch. If I hadn't heard what I heard (not that I understood what it was about) I would assume Martin had just insulted his boss.

Martin's face softened when he saw me. "Ready?"

"Right," I told him. "Chris, give my best to Diana and the kids."

He nodded. "I will… and Louisa?"

Martin's head whipped towards Chris in a scowl.

"Yes?" I answered brightly.

Chris blanched. "Just, uhm, well I'll be thinking – hoping – things work out; the baby."

"Thank you." I squared my shoulders. "Ready Martin?"

Martin nodded as we left the floor and we didn't say anything to one another until we left the building.

Outside on the sidewalk there was a woman who was striking. She was wearing a black power suit, tan blouse, and four-inch spike beige heels, practically standing on her toes, with long and thick burgundy hair running all the way past her slim waist in luscious waves. In her elegant shoes she was about my height, but in weight she could not have gone over eight stone; perfect in every proportion for her slim build.

The woman turned her head to toss her scrumptious hair and I saw her gray eyes, and a flawless complexion; eyes and lips made-up perfectly. From the way she stood there, lazily rolling a baby buggy back and forth, she was the very image of beautiful and modern motherhood. From the tips of her finely manicured nails and sparkling rings, to her head she was gorgeous.

I was quite envious of her, considering my rotund self, but I wasn't sorry to be pregnant, or to be fat, just grateful that our baby was healthy.

I looked at the pretty lady again and saw one thing I was not happy to see, she was smoking. She could have been a fashion model, and perhaps had done in the day, but the thought of not just inhaling cig smoke but blowing it into the face of child? Ugh. I watched as a cloud of smoke billow out of her mouth and stream right over her child, who coughed.

Martin was looking down at the concrete steps, with one hand on my elbow and the other around my waist. "Steady Louisa, the steps are an uneven pitch. Can't have you fall. Whoever poured these steps ought to be found and made to replace them! Entirely unsafe!" Clearly he had not seen the stunning woman ahead of us.

The boy baby in the buggy looked to be about a two-years-old, with a mop of hair that matched his mum's. Would our child favor me or Martin? I'm dark but he is fair. Well time would tell.

We stepped onto the flat pavement and I felt Martin relax, but then he glanced up at the fashion model.

She looked up and gave me a little grin, but when she saw Martin, her face split into a huge smile, those gray eyes sparkling at him sending plenty of come-hither messages as she tossed her hair and cocked her head.

Ah, I thought, she likes tall men – in suits – even those with large ears.

Martin looked up, glanced at me and cleared his throat. "The car is just over there. Won't be a minute." He marched forward towards the fashion model, leaving me behind.

Feeling like a sack of spuds I watched as martin marched forward. The lady flicked her cig onto the grass and watched as he approached.

Whatever she thought was going to happen, didn't.

"Smoking?" Martin exploded at her. "This child is your child? Whether it is or not, even if you are an aunt or some sort of a child-minder, you have NO right to expel noxious and dangerous fumes into his face!"

"Well, I am outside and the wind…" she waved a pretty hand. "Blows it away. And he is my son."

"NO. Listen woman! You are injuring this child! I am a doctor! I have a duty of care to those who are my patients as well as when I see danger being visited upon the weak and helpless!"

"Well!" she spat back. "I never!" She turned to go on her high-shoes.

"And you actually bought those shoes! Are you mad? Your ankles and toes, your entire foot actually, as well as knees and hips, and your spine, will be maimed and twisted by those ridiculous things! Have some sense woman! Wear practical shoes!"

That's when she flipped him a very rude gesture.

"AND PICK THAT UP!" he practically screamed, pointing to the smoldering cigarette lying in the grass a few feet away.

Despite her defiant body language, his tone of voice made her daintily step into the grass and pick up the litter. She trudged back to the pavement, threw it at his feet and stomped it out with one delicately applied toe.

"There! Tosser!" she sneered, then sashayed away, her slim bum rocking to and fro.

Martin shook his head, bent down to pick up the crushed fag, and with distaste took it between finger and thumb. "God," he muttered as he deposited it into a handy bin. I watched as he turned, plucked his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his hands. "Some people," he murmured as he walked up to me.

"Was that necessary?" I asked.

"That woman was endangering her child – her baby."

I sighed. Martin didn't see the beauty that had been displayed in front of him. "You didn't actually see her."

"What? Of course I did!" He pointed at her retreating back. "Likely lighting up another fuming fag as we speak! Well on her way to emphysema in a few years no doubt! God knows what damage she's already done to her child. Unable to defend himself."

I shook my head. "No, Martin, you didn't. Not really." That was my Martin. He didn't see the delicious young woman in the expensive clothes. He only saw a health issue. "Hard to save the world, isn't it?"

He looked at me. "Ahm, I likely embarrassed you."

I gazed up at him. Martin Ellingham - protector of the weak. For him, some things would always be invisible, such as the smoke from a burning cigarette blotting out the sexy woman holding it. I nodded. "Little bit, maybe." He was only doing what he thought was proper.

He shook his head. 'Sorry, Louisa…. after… the uhm… your… ultrasound…" he sighed. "Now that it's almost here."

"Yes it was amazing to see our baby. Gratifying that it's fine - him or her. We ought to think about names."

Martin froze.

"What? Something wrong? You saw something?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. Let's go to the car."

"Mar-tin!" I stamped my foot. "If you know something then tell me!"

He closed his eyes for a moment. "Ah, I saw something."

"Oh my God. Something's wrong?"

He shook his head. "No. But, I am not sure if you would want to know the gender of the baby."

"Not actually, no. But now you've got me worried."

"Louisa, firstly nothing is wrong. But I could tell…"

"What?"

He squinted down at me. "On an ultrasound certain… features… of the developing foetus are readily apparent on an ultrasound; such as head circumference, lengths of arms and legs, number of fingers and toes, details of the spine, chamber so the heart and so on."

I looked at him strangely. "Martin, just spit it out! What did you see?"

He sighed. "Are you sure you want to know? I can just as easily not say. First you say one thing but mean another."

"Mar-TIN Ellingham! If you don't tell me right now I will…."

"You'll what?"

"Ooooooo!" I held my head. "You are insufferable! Maddening!"

He squared his shoulders. "Fine. Louisa, I got a good look between the baby's legs, and our baby is a boy."

"What?"

"A boy, Louisa. It's a boy. We're going to have a son."

I threw my arms around him and kissed him full on the lips, so happy that what had been invisible had become discernible.