Chapter Twenty

The week after the wedding was business as usual at the surgery. Morwenna seemed to be settling into her new role as receptionist very well. She had the kind of temperament that wasn't rattled by Martin's stoic demeanor or occasional outburst of temper, and was always cheerful and friendly. I was enjoying being able to sleep in a little bit and relaxing while she took over. It had given me time to do a little shopping for the baby, and to put together the swing and the cot that I had bought. We were slowly beginning to get things ready for the arrival of our little one.

We decided the best thing would be for me to move out of my cottage and into the surgery, at least for the time being, and then maybe we could look for someplace a little bigger in the future. The only thing we really had to make space for was the piano, and with a little bit of difficulty, we were able to wedge it into a corner of the sitting room area. It wasn't ideal but it would do in a pinch…I couldn't stand to go a day without playing at least a little something.

I was eating breakfast and Martin was in the kitchen making coffee when he got a phone call on his cell phone Monday morning. "Louisa? Calm down, speak normally…hold the phone where I can hear his breathing. Sounds like he's hyperventilating, possibly a panic attack…have him breathe into a paper bag for a minute or two, that should raise his carbon dioxide level. It's common, it's nothing to worry about. If his breathing doesn't improve call me back…" there was a pause, and he sighed deeply. "Yes, all right, I'll be right there."

"What's going on?" I asked when he had hung up.

"Louisa is on a field trip to Joan's farm and there's a child hyperventilating," he explained. "I'm sure he's fine, but she wants me to go out there anyway…complete waste of time."

I gave him a look. "You may think so, but it's a child in Louisa's care; of course you should go and make sure he's okay…it will make her feel better, Martin. I'll ride out there with you; I wanted to see Joan anyway."

"This is not going to be a social call, you know!" he groused.

"Yes, I know, I just want to say hello," I said calmly. "No need to fuss. Come on, let's go."

When we got there, there was a mob of children standing looking in the chicken pen at a boy sitting on the ground, breathing into a paper bag. Joan and Louisa were having a heated discussion.

"Has his condition improved?" Martin asked.

"Yes, a bit," Louisa answered.

"As I said on the phone, more than likely a panic attack."

"Well, there wouldn't have been an issue at all if…" Louisa began angrily, but Joan cut her off.

"He could have seriously hurt my birds!" she exclaimed indignantly.

"That doesn't justify locking him up in a chicken coop!"

"Well, someone has to teach him that sort of behavior is totally unacceptable!"

"By doing something even more unacceptable?" Louisa was clearly very upset. It was a good time for me to diffuse the situation. While Martin examined the boy, I led Joan away from the chicken pen and toward the house. She was nearly in tears.

"I certainly didn't mean to the cause the boy any harm, I just wanted to teach him a lesson, that you can't treat animals the way he was treating my chickens!"

"I know you didn't mean to hurt him, Joan," I said sympathetically. "And I'm sure he's fine now—no worse for wear. He should have been behaving himself."

"And now Louisa is upset with me," Joan lamented. "That's the worst part, I think. Oh, I just feel terrible about the whole thing. I shouldn't have done it, but he just made me so angry!" I led her into the kitchen and sat her down at the table, where she began to cry. I put my arms around her.

"It's all over now, and the boy is going to be fine. Let me make you a cup of tea," I soothed. I had never seen Joan so emotional. At that moment, she seemed very frail and defeated, which are two words I never thought I would use to describe her. Of course, I didn't condone her methods of teaching the kid a lesson—I was actually really surprised she had reacted that way at all; she was usually very patient when it came to children. What was going on with her?

Martin came in the kitchen door to fetch me. "I have to get back to the surgery," he said impatiently.

"I think I'll stay here for a while," I told him, and he glanced down at Joan, who was still quite tearful.

"Fine," he said. "Is everything all right?" he added quietly.

I pulled him toward the door and said, "Joan is just upset about the whole incident. Is the boy okay now?"

"Yes, he's fine…back to his insolent, irritating self." I smirked. "I really need to go…I will see you later, all right?"

"All right, I will see if I can get Joan to bring me back to town later this afternoon," I answered, and gave him a kiss.

After Martin had left, I went outside and explained to Louisa that Joan wasn't feeling well and maybe it was best that she and the kids go back to the school. "She's really very upset about the whole thing," I told her.

"Well, I'm sure there's no harm done, Theo seems to be all right now. I was just surprised that she did it," Louisa replied, adding to one of the children, "Oi, Lucy Holmes, back in line, please."

"I am too. I'm going to stay here with her for a while…she really doesn't seem like herself today," I said.

"Well, please tell her that all is forgiven and I'm sorry I got so angry with her, will you?"

"Of course."

I wish that would have been the end of the whole situation, but each of the next three days, Martin was called to Theo Wenn's house because the boy was running a fever and vomiting. Theo's parents had heard about what had happened on the school trip and were very unhappy, to say the least, and they were blaming Theo's illness on Joan.

"He's not responding to the antibiotics," Martin told me. "I don't suppose his test results have come back, have they?"

"Not yet," I answered.

"Well, the Wenns are talking about hiring a solicitor to go after Joan for damages," he went on.

"What? That's absolutely ridiculous!" I exclaimed.

"Of course it is. And Joan can't afford to hire someone on her own…I'm going to have to help her."

I shook my head in dismay. "Is there a possibility she could be responsible for him being sick?"

"Unfortunately, yes, his condition could be caused by bird feces. That's why I'm hoping the test comes back soon so we can know for sure."

I sighed. This was the last thing in the world that Joan needed right now.

Martin and I went to Joan's for dinner Thursday night to discuss the situation with her. She was nearly beside herself with worry. "What am I going to do, Marty? A solicitor will cost thousands of pounds! I can't even afford a fraction of that," she exclaimed. She hadn't touched her supper, even though I coaxed her several times to eat something.

"If you need a solicitor, Aunty Joan, then I will make sure that you have one," Martin told her.

"Absolutely not, Marty…I will not be a burden to you and Anna," she said vehemently.

"You're not a burden, Joan…you are our family and we love you! Of course we are going to help you if you need help, that's what a family is for," I said, putting my arm around her shoulders. "Now, please don't worry about it anymore. I have a feeling the test will come back and we'll find out it has nothing to do with you at all."

"We don't know that, Anna," Martin cut in, not helping the situation. I gave him a withering look. He cleared his throat and went on, "…of course, it's not out of the question…"

How I wanted to go over to the Wenns and give them a piece of my mind! It had been an unfortunate incident, and Joan hadn't handled it very well, but it certainly didn't warrant all the stress it was putting on her. If they were decent people, they wouldn't dream of suing an elderly woman, especially when their son was partially at fault…if he hadn't been acting like such a little monster, none of this would have happened in the first place.

Besides the issue with the Wenns, Joan had been busy organizing our wedding reception, to be held in the village hall that Saturday night. She and her friends were going to begin baking and cooking the next day, and the decorations were to go up Saturday morning. I begged her to let me help, but she flatly refused.

"We are doing this as a gift to you and Martin, Anna," she told me, "and I don't want you to have to lift a finger…especially not in your condition. No, I won't hear another word about it. All you have to do is show up on Saturday evening and enjoy the party."

I hugged her fiercely and kissed her on the cheek as we left her house that night. "Thank you so much for all you are doing for us," I told her. "Just please don't overdo it…we want you to be able to enjoy the party too. Promise me you will call me if you need us to help with anything."

"You just leave everything to me…"

"Joan!" I interrupted. "I'm not leaving here until you promise me!" She scowled at me, and I grinned back at her. Stubbornness definitely ran in the Ellingham family.

"All right, I promise," she finally said.

"Good." I kissed her cheek again. "We love you."