Chapter 29

Martin opened the door to his hotel room and flipped on the light. It had been a long day. It started early that morning observing and taping the second of the procedures they planned to simulate, and it ended at dinner with Langan and Robert, his old tutor. By the time he reached his room, he was ready to call it a day despite the residual exhilaration he was still feeling after dinner with Langan.

He had almost forgotten the kind of hours surgery commanded, much different from general practice, where his day started at half eight and usually ended at five-thirty. After spending more than four hours in theatre starting at six-thirty that morning, he had spent the remainder of the day with the team discussing the technical aspects of the procedure they had just filmed, breaking for less than an hour for lunch. They were scheduled to observe and tape a second similar surgery at the same hour the next morning, and they decided to cut the day short and head on home around 4:30. Martin stayed back after most of the team had left to talk with Andrew, the software team lead. He had some ideas for ways to expedite the process for the next procedure, and the two of them spent nearly an hour discussing the pros and cons of Martin's ideas as well as several Andrew had considered.

It was nearly half five by the time Martin returned to his room. He had just over an hour to review the Truro employment offer in more detail and to call Louisa before he had to leave to meet with Langan for dinner. He needed to sound out her feelings once more about the offer. "Feelings", that was what he needed to get from Louisa. Aunt Ruth had stressed the importance of finding out Louisa's true feelings about his working in Truro, as well as his own feelings.

It was easy to evaluate the merits of the offer based strictly on his career goals. He had wanted to return to surgery ever since arriving in Portwenn; and now that he had conquered the haemophobia, he was in a position to do just that. However, his Aunt Ruth had asked him to consider a few other things before making the decision. He needed to think about why he wanted to return to surgery because it wasn't the only thing he was good at. She reminded him that he had proven himself an excellent GP and diagnostician during his time in Portwenn, and he acknowledged that, but he responded by stressing how much he loved being a surgeon, he had told her that before. Certainly, his love of that specialty revolved around his exceptional expertise; it was something at which he was so very good, and he knew that many of his patients came to him because of his reputation. After a childhood of being told he wasn't good at anything, it was a therapeutic boost to his ego, a constant solace to know that he was good at something, very good indeed. Did he truly miss the satisfaction he once felt in successfully repairing arteries and veins, or was it the intellectual challenge of developing new and more effective surgical techniques? Or was it the accolades lauding his knowledge and skill that he missed. He dismissed that last thought. He did his work to the best of his ability for the good of his patients, not for the prestige it garnered.

Did he want to return to surgery just because he felt that was where he had always belonged, or was it actually where he belonged. If he returned to surgery, would he feel satisfied at the end of every week that he had made a difference? The answer was most likely yes. Surgery provided immediate feedback; either the patient recovered or the patient died after he operated, and death had been a rare outcome for him. Feedback from his patients in general practice emerged much more slowly; unless the patient returned and let him know how his treatment faired, he often didn't know if they improved or not. Over the weekend, before he travelled to London, as he thought about the opportunity, he knew he had to accept the position. He loved being a surgeon and he felt he could provide a better service to the community as a surgeon than as a GP. The fact that Truro was practically bending over backwards to entice him to join them was a strong motivator, one he felt he couldn't pass up.

He felt it was important that he take the offer at least for the next two to three months, see how the logistics worked out, and how the longer hours affected his family because now there was Louisa to consider. As Ruth pointed out, his wasn't the only opinion that mattered …. He pictured Louisa in his mind's eye as he pressed her number into his mobile. Neither one of them was very good in expressing to the other exactly what they felt. They both tended to keep their thoughts to themselves. Ruth had impressed on him the importance of asking Louisa to tell him exactly how she felt about his taking the job in Truro. So it was, the evening after his conversation with Ruth, he broached the subject as they sat in the lounge after putting James to bed. He approached this task the same way Ruth had when she talked with him.

They were sitting side by side on the sofa. Louisa was reading one of her textbooks and he had his BMJ open on his lap when he finally garnered the courage to open the conversation. He closed his journal and leaned forward, rubbing his hands together, "Umm," he began as he frequently did, and he cleared his throat.

Louisa slid a bookmark into the page of her book and looked his way, "Yes?"

Martin started up again, "Umm … When I was talking with Ruth this afternoon, we talked about the pros and cons of the hospital offer and then she advised me to assess my feelings about taking the job."

He looked over at her and saw her open her eyes wide, "She did?"

"Yes, and she advised that I should ask you how you felt about me taking the job as well."

She took his hand in hers and smiled, "Martin, I already told you that I would support you in whatever decision you make."

"Yes, you did, and I appreciate your support." He covered her hand with his other one and continued, "But taking the job will mean that I will be away from the village most every weekday, and I wonder how you will feel about that."

She tilted her head at him in thought. He could tell that she was surprised that he would think to ask her about her feelings; a year ago, it would never have occurred to him to ask. She gave him a gentle grin, and then she answered, "Ruth put you up to this?"

He pulled away from her slightly. Could she really not believe that he would want to know her feelings, although he knew the answer to that question without asking, "Well yes, but I also think that your feelings on the matter are just as important as mine. And I want to know what you really think."

She turned away, chewing on her bottom lip and staring out the window toward the harbour where the sun had recently set. Learning to trust each other was something Dr. Timoney had impressed on them if they were to have a successful marriage, but there were times that they both struggled at being open with one another. Finally, she took a deep breath and responded in a somewhat restrained tone, "I have to admit that I will miss having you nearby and … in fact … if I were honest … I would prefer that you remain in the village as the GP."

That was exactly what he thought she would say, but she continued, "But I truly want you to take this opportunity to return to surgery because I know how important it has been to you, and …." She paused here, brushing his cheek with the back of her fingers mimicking one of his gestures of affection and holding his gaze before continuing, "Martin, you have been supportive of my decision to change careers; shouldn't I offer you the same support? You sacrificed your earlier chance to return to surgery when you decided to remain in the village with me when James was a baby. I can't ask you to make the same sacrifice again."

Hearing her discuss her feelings had tempted him to turn down the offer, but he knew that he needed to be as open with her as she had been with him. He told her that he wanted her to be happy, but that he also wanted to try surgery again.

The decision to offer his services to Truro three days a week while remaining in the village the rest of the week was the compromise at which the two of them had arrived after that difficult conversation. Martin would work as a surgeon and head of the vascular unit three days a week in Truro and stay in the village working on his IT project and supervising the vascular unit from afar the remainder of the week. He couldn't promise that there wouldn't be times he would be needed in hospital during his Portwenn days, but he would make every effort to stay in the village those days.

He ran through that conversation with her before he called for the evening. She picked up the phone after just two rings, "Martin. I wasn't expecting to hear from you so early. Is everything alright?"

"Yes. We stopped early today … early morning tomorrow. I also am having dinner with Langan tonight in less than an hour."

"Really?"

"Yes, he stopped by just after lunch and invited me to join him. I believe he wants to grill me about the IT project … how the team works together and whether I think I the result is worthwhile."

"And do you think it is worthwhile?"

"You know that I do."

They were both quiet for a moment, then Martin spoke, "How was your day?"

"Fine, busy with school work, as usual. I was just preparing dinner when you called."

"Ah. Anything special?"

"Uh … no nothing special." She was actually preparing 'toad in the hole', what Bert referred to as an old English standard. Martin would be horrified if he knew that she would be feeding it to James, but she just fancied it this evening. Quickly changing the subject, she asked, "Would you like to speak to James?"

"Yes. Is he nearby?"

"He's upstairs playing with his toys." She walked toward the stairs and, covering the phone, called up to James, "Daddy is on the phone James. Do you want to talk with him?"

James immediately bounded down the stairs, crying out, "Daddy, Daddy."

Martin lowered his voice as James picked up the phone, "Hello James. How are you this evening?"

"I'm good Daddy. Mummy and I went to the beach looking for sea glass after school."

"Sea glass?"

"Yes – it's all different colours -white and green and blue and sometimes pink. We put it in a jar in the kitchen window. It's pretty."

"Sounds nice. You will have to show it to me when I come home this weekend."

"Yes."

Louisa motioned to James that she wanted to speak with Martin, but James wasn't ready to give up his time with his daddy, and he continued to speak with Martin, "Will you come home tomorrow?"

"No, not until Friday night."

"Is that soon?"

"In two more days. Tomorrow and then the next day, and I will see you the following morning."

"'kay." James paused a moment and then added quietly, "Mummy wants the phone. Bye daddy." James returned the phone to Louisa and wandered back to the stairs.

"James sounded a little subdued there at the end." Martin observed.

"Yes. He misses you," Louisa confirmed.

"Mmm."

"I read the offer the hospital made you. It seems quite generous."

"Not really. Standard department head salary."

"Oh."

"It does come with significant responsibility, additional managerial duties, paperwork, that sort of thing."

Louisa sighed, "More time away from home."

"Not necessarily. Most of that paperwork can be done in my home office."

"Good."

They both were quiet for a minute, then Louisa spoke. "You'll call again tomorrow?"

"Of course."

"I'll speak to you then. Good night."

'Yes. Good night."

The dinner with Langan had been lively and inspiring. Langan had heard about Martin's successful work on the NHS officer and his subsequent offer to join the North Cornwall hospital as head of vascular. He congratulated Martin on successfully overcoming the crippling haemophobia ... finally, and he encouraged him to take the position. Martin confirmed that he planned to accept the offer and to start within the next several weeks. Langan had asked Martin's old tutor, Robert to join them and the evening had been full of stimulating conversation, discussing the latest research and development projects in vascular medicine currently being undertaken at St. Mary's and other London hospitals. Much of the research was cutting edge and had not been reported in any of the major journals, and Martin had been away for far too long to be aware of the latest developments and thinking. He was particularly intrigued by an initiative on which they were working with a research laboratory in America. It involved generating strong laboratory grown blood vessels for use in vascular grafts; the results so far were extremely promising. It felt wonderful to be back in the loop and Martin found himself looking forward to returning to surgery once more, and engaging with the sharp minds he had once counted as colleagues.

The evening had been perfect except for the presence of Edith at the table. Unfortunately, she had been in Robert's office when Langan invited him, and when she heard that Martin was joining them, she invited herself along. She had very little to add to the conversation since none of the discussion revolved around gynae, but she did offer some insights to the personalities involved. It seemed that she continued to be an active participant in the hospital gossip pipeline.

It had been a successful evening all around; and as Martin exited the lift and walked down the corridor to his hotel room, he continued to contemplate the research that was being conducted there in the London hospitals and wondered how soon he would be able to join any of the research projects once he had established a solid department in Truro. The thought of being involved with cutting edge research was exhilarating. He removed his jacket and hung it in the wardrobe and then loosened his tie, hanging it up as well. He checked his phone to make sure he hadn't missed any calls, and then placed it on the bedside table after setting the alarm for an early wake-up. They had another full day planned for tomorrow and he needed a good night's rest to be at his best. After removing his cuff links and watch and placing them both in his travelling case, he entered the lavatory to relieve himself and then flushed the toilet. As he headed to the closet and began to unbutton his shirt, he heard an insistent knocking at the door. He was inclined to ignore it; there was no one who could possibly want to talk with him this late in the evening. It was obviously someone who was looking for someone else and confused his room for theirs. Martin felt if he ignored the knocking, they would move on, but the knocking persisted. He marched to the door and peered through the peephole. He immediately recognised the visitor and muttered under his breath at the intrusion as he rebuttoned his shirt. He opened the door to Edith's beaming face and growled, "What do you want?"

She pushed her way into his room and asserted, "We didn't get a chance to speak at dinner, and I thought it would be nice to have a catch-up. What say you?"

He peered down his nose at her and snapped, "I don't think that's necessary."

She took off her jacket and laid it over the chair, then walked toward him and put her hand on his arm, "Oh, I think it is. It's been such a long time."

Martin sighed. It had been a few years, over three in fact since he last saw Edith. It was just before James was born. He felt that they had done all their catching up then; there was nothing more to say, but they had been close once, and he was too tired to deal with her. "Edith, I don't have time for this tonight. I have an early morning and I need my rest."

She reached up to stroke his cheek, "Yes, you always needed sleep, especially after … "She glanced at him seductively, "You do remember, don't you?"

She reached up and kissed his cheek causing him to step back in shock. What was she up to?

She continued to speak, "I always knew you had it in you to defeat that haemophobia. If you play your cards right, you could be back here in London in no time." She stroked his chest fingering the buttons on his shirt and pressed herself up against him, "We could get together then. It would be just like old times."

He took hold of her hands and pushed her away. "I don't think so."

She gazed at him knowingly, "I was surprised to learn you married that school teacher, given your fear of intimacy."

Martin stepped back, indignant, "I do not have a fear of intimacy. I just didn't want to be with you."

Edith shook her head gently from side to side, "I still don't think that was the problem. You know we were good together."

Reaching over to the chair he picked up her jacket, placed it in her hands and walked her to the door. "Good night Edith. "

She grabbed hold of the door jamb, anxious to stay, but he pressed her into the hallway and closed the door firmly with a severe "Good night."

He stepped back into the room and ran his hand through his hair." Edith," he sighed. Yes, she had meant something to him once, and because of that, he felt a certain obligation to be polite with her; but he would have to be firmer with her if she continued to approach him. He thought about Louisa, with whom he had no fear of intimacy, and he felt a deep longing for her. He picked up his phone to check the time and decided it wasn't too late to call her.

"Martin," she picked up on the third ring. "is everything all right?"

"Umm … yes … yes. I just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you."

"I miss you too," she replied in a tender tone. "How was dinner?"

"Good. I had a haddock fillet, perfectly grilled."

"That's good, but I suppose I meant how was the conversation, how was Langan?"

"It was excellent, very stimulating. We discussed new initiatives taking place. I can't wait to be involved again."

As soon as he expressed his enthusiasm, he regretted it for fear she would take it the wrong way, but she didn't. She laughed, "You sound like a little boy who just raided the sweets shop."

"Mmm …" he paused, "I know it's late, but how are you and the children doing?"

"We are all fine. James is asleep, and I am preparing for bed."

"And the baby?"

"He is ramping up his nightly calisthenics routine."

Martin thought about the new baby for a moment, wishing he were there to feel its healthy movement, "Yes. Tell him or her I miss him."

"Yes, I will."

"Good night then,"

"Yes, good night."