Once the commotion had died down, and Martin was satisfied of her recovery, Louisa told them that she felt well enough for the discussion to start.
Muriel Steele led them into a pleasant sitting room, well furnished with comfortable seating arranged around a low central table. Martin, unimpressed by her constant reference to him as 'Little Marty', had taken an instant dislike to her and hung back, hoping to stay unnoticed and detached, in the background. He was drawn to a magnificent picture window that took in the stunning coastal view and there he stood, stiffly, in front of it, hands clasped behind his back, until Joan sought his attention.
While everyone had made themselves comfortable, Helen Pratt, having made the tea, scurried in and out with plates of food which she laid out on the low table in front of them. Lester's eyes lit up at the spread. He was a bachelor who lived alone and he considered one of the perks of the job was to savour the culinary expertise that existed amongst the women of the village.
"Don't mind if I do." He said appreciatively.
"Sit down, Martin. So we can get started." Joan said, a little sharply.
Reluctantly, Martin turned back to face them and noticed immediately that all the armchairs were taken. Louisa sat, looking small, disconsolate and alone, on an elegant Georgian two-seater sofa, head down, fiddling with a tasseled cushion on her lap.
"Umm, Right. Happy to stand, Auntie Joan." He said uncomfortably. "I don't, ummm..."
Louisa's head shot up and she stared at him in disbelief.
"Martin?" She said, and her tone was almost desperate. He wondered where she'd learned to stare like that; to hold your gaze so you wouldn't look away. Couldn't look away.
"Ummm, yes. Right. Ok." He replied reluctantly, and navigated his way gingerly between the armchairs and the food-laden table, snatching up the front of his trouser legs and lowering himself reluctantly onto the small, low sofa beside her. He fidgeted for a few moments, trying to find room for his legs and, unsuccessfully, a comfortable position for his arms. Eventually he settled and Louisa shot him a grateful smile, which did not go unnoticed by Joan.
"Well then, Louisa." Lester said gently, leaning forward and resting his massive forearms on his substantial knees, and smiling at her. "Seems like you're a very well-thought of young lady in the village."
Louisa smiled wanly. The evidence of the enthusiasm with which he'd demolished a generous slice of Mrs Steele's sponge cake was sprinkled down the front of his pullover and he had icing sugar at the corners of his mouth. It was distracting and she had to look away.
He continued in his gentle, deep tone: "And that's a credit to you, my girl, because we all know you haven't always had it that easy. But I don't think I've ever felt such an outpouring of support as we've had over the last twenty four hours." Lester looked around him and the ladies of the committee nodded fervently in assent.
Louisa hung her head, desperately fighting the tears that welled again. Why could she stay composed so much better when people were harsh, yet go so completely to pieces when people showed kindness. She wrestled her mind back to the conversation, sucked in a deep breath, and attempted to focus on his words.
"We've had a lot of discussions this morning, fruitful ones we hope, and we think we've found some solutions for you, but Joan, aaah, Mrs Norton has asked me to impress upon you that you do have a say. You do have a choice. We can suggest what we think we'd like to see happen but that you do have a voice. Do you understand Louisa?"
Without looking up, Louisa nodded helplessly, and her shoulders shook as she gave a muffled sob. Martin closed his eyes and sighed inwardly. Why on earth did Auntie Joan think that he was equipped to deal with all of this? He decided that he would make his excuses and leave early in the morning before any fresh hell could be inflicted upon him. And then, as if in apology for his imminent departure, he contorted himself enough to reach into his coat pocket and passed Louisa a neatly pressed handkerchief.
Lester looked at her with concern before deciding to go on.
"I suppose where we need to start is at the beginning, as they say. We believe that your mum is in Spain, yes? So, what we need to know, firstly, is whether you want us to try and find your mum so you can go to her? Or whether you want to stay here with us in Port Wenn?"
Louisa couldn't contain herself any longer, she let out a desperate whimper before exploding into helpless sobbing; gasping for air and unable to speak as her body was racked by heaving convulsions.
Martin looked at her with alarm; he found her distress disturbing and he felt totally inept until, suddenly, it dawned on him that Louisa had wanted him here, next to her, for this very eventuality. When it became clear that she was unable to respond, he cleared his throat nervously.
"I, aaah, I think what Louisa wants to say, aaah, unequivocally, is that, for her, going to live with her mother is not an option. That is to say, she, aah, Louisa's strong preference would be that she stays in Port Wenn."
Joan's eyebrow climbed up her forehead as she stared at her nephew in disbelief. It must have been a very interesting morning, she thought to herself. Noticing her expression, Martin looked away quickly and tucked himself even more tightly into the arm of the sofa. When it became clear that, despite there appearing to be a tacit understanding between them, her nephew had absolutely no intention of offering the poor girl any consolation, she stood up, went over to the couch, and placed her hand on Louisa's shoulder.
"Is that what all this is about, Louisa?" Joan said to her gently. "Did you think we'd send you to Eleanor?"
Louisa nodded vigorously, still struggling for for breath against the incessant tide of tears that seemed to be overwhelming her.
Joan looked up at Lester. "I think you'd better go on." She said firmly.
"Louisa," Lester said slowly and calmly. "Remember that I said you had a choice. We have another option for you. You remember Ms Freethy? I believe she taught you in at Port Wenn Primary? You got on well, didn't you?"
Louisa nodded again. "Yes," she said in a strangled sob. "She...wwas...rrrrreally...nnice."
"Well Ms Freethy thought well of you too, Louisa, and she says that, if you'd like, you could go and board with her until you finish school. What do you think of that idea? Do you think that might work out ok?"
Louisa was breathing loudly now, fighting desperately to get herself under control so that she could speak. Her diaphragm was so tight she felt as if she were being crushed.
"Yesss," She said, her voice breathless and hoarse.
She sat for a moment, feeling the reassuring arm of Joan around her shoulders but when Louisa finally raised her tear stained face from her hands, it was to Joan's nephew she turned.
"Martin," she said beseechingly. "What...ddo..yyou...ththink?"
His level of discomfort then became almost unbearable. Martin knew nothing of this teacher, her motives, or her circumstances so how on earth was he supposed to have an opinion? But, clearly, the girl expected him to say something, even sliding her palm across the velvety seat, and gently nudging his hand with hers.
Once again, Louisa's imploring expression disconcerted him and he swallowed hard. Worse still was Joan's dumbfounded one. She'd noticed with amazement that he hadn't flinched at Louisa's gesture, despite his acknowledged dislike of being touched. Even worse still, he knew that his aunt had noticed, and the look on her face, with her quizzically arching eyebrow, just about disappearing into her hairline, made Martin's blood run cold. It was the final straw.
Scrambling inelegantly to his feet, he said: "I need the lavatory," and bolted from the room.
ooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooo
Lester and Joan patiently explained the rest of the situation to Louisa, but it was soon obvious to them that she wasn't in the right emotional state to take too much more in. Joan kicked herself for not realising how terrified the poor girl had been of being sent to her mother, and it seemed that the relief at that being no longer the case was overwhelming her ability to take in the details. Wisely, Joan suggested they adjourn, and asked Louisa if she'd like to accompany her in the search for her elusive nephew whom they'd not seen since he'd excused himself half an hour earlier.
"Fresh air." Joan said indubitably. "Do us all good."
They all watched as Louisa now flashed them one of her dazzling smiles; marvelling at the transformation from the broken and inconsolable child of an hour ago to the admirable and self possessed young woman who now stood before them.
"Thank you all so much, you don't know how relieved I am. I love this village so much...I...won't let any of you down, I promise."
Joan felt tears welling. She cleared her voice vigorously.
"Oh, my dear..." was all she could manage.
Lester smiled at her encouragingly.
"I think you've probably had enough for one day, young Louisa. I think we should all go home and reconvene tomorrow. How do you feel about a visit to Ms. Freethy in the morning, eh? Check out the lay of the land, so to speak?" He asked, his eyes twinkling.
"Yeah, that'd be great. It's really lovely of her. I can't quite believe it if I'm honest." Louisa smiled and Joan noticed that she was edging slowly, backwards, out of the room. Smirking to herself, she suggested that Louisa might like to go and locate Martin and then perhaps they would head back to the farm. Unsurprisingly, to Joan at least, Louisa did not need to be asked twice and she scooted rapidly from the room.
Joan looked around.
"I'll cover everything else tonight when she's had to time to collect her thoughts. I'm hoping to catch up with her teachers early next week, just to fill them in. Knowing Louisa she won't want to miss too much school." She said, relief very evident in her tone.
"I think it probably went as well as one could expect, under the circumstances." Muriel added, thanking fate that her only child had been born a boy as she could in no way imagine herself coping with a teenaged daughter, no matter how pretty and smart that daughter might be.
"I'll ring Karen tonight and confirm a convenient time later, if that's alright?" Lester said, smiling at them congenially. He paused, and looked down at the table. "And, Joan, are you going to be talking that plate of sandwiches with you, or...?"
"Enjoy," Joan said, throwing a knowing glance at him. "Helen, lets just get this washing up done, and we'll be on our way."
Louisa wandered out into the sunshine, her spirits soaring. She realised that she had wound herself up, quite stupidly as it happened, letting the Eleanor thing just eat away at her pointlessly. If you had told her yesterday, after she first heard about her dad's arrest, that she'd feel this elated in just a day's time, she would have been appalled. But it was all relative, she supposed. Tomorrow she would start seriously thinking about the implications but she thought that maybe boarding with Ms Freethy could actually be quite cool.
All she wanted to do now, though, was to find Martin.
He wasn't in his car so, instinctively, she followed the pathway round the side of house to where she knew that there was a terrace, and garden benches sited to take in the coastal panorama. He was there, sitting with his back to her, elbows on the top of the bench, long legs stretched out in front of him. The terrace was pleasantly warm and sheltered, and extraordinarily peaceful today, with just the distant and faint booming of the waves crashing into the rocky cliffs.
"Martin." She said, just loud enough so he'd hear her.
Immediately, he dropped his arms to his sides and sat up straight, turning his head so that he could just see her. To his inordinate relief, she was smiling because he knew he had reached his absolute daily limits of kindness and patience.
She wandered over and stood in front of him.
"What were you doing?" She asked casually.
"Ummm, nothing. Thinking." He replied carefully.
"What about?"
"Mind your own business." He said, but not unkindly.
She grinned. "I think we're just about ready to go, actually. Are you ready?"
Martin let out such a theatrical sigh of relief that she laughed out loud. He stood up and dusted himself off.
"Martin, I'm sorry your weekend got ruined. I'm really sorry that I've been horrible. It's been a pretty rubbish few days really." She said, and she meant it.
He held up his hand as if to silence her.
"Mmmm. I don't imagine realising that both your parents are nefarious deadbeats has been a happy discovery for you."
Louisa winced but, under the circumstances, decided against challenging him. To be fair, she had actually asked him not sugar coat anything, even if she had been attempting sarcasm, although that remark was a bit brutal, even for Martin.
She opened her mouth to respond but was distracted by the sound of crunching gravel as a vehicle drove up the driveway in front of the house. They heard a car door slam. Martin looked at her, and indicated with his arm that she should lead the way but she hesitated, looked up at him and bit her lip. Suddenly, he had the uncomfortable thought that she was going touch him again, in which case Auntie Joan was sure to appear around the corner. Involuntarily, he took a step backwards and stared back at her warily.
She looked at him, puzzled.
"What?" She asked
"Aaah, nothing."
"No, Martin. Tell me!"
She fixed him with that penetrating gaze again, But he'd learned his lesson, for now anyway.
"Nothing to tell." he said firmly, and again gestured in the direction of the car. "Shall we, umm, shall we go?"
Louisa eyed him suspiciously but, to his relief, she did as he suggested and they made their way back toward the car. Martin suddenly recalled that he needed to speak with the policeman before they left. As they came around the corner of the house, he also remembered he should ask Louisa what said policeman's name was, and he was just about to open his mouth, when she stopped suddenly in front of him.
Martin realised that she'd hesitated because there was someone peering into the windows of his car. He felt himself go tense, until he saw that it was just a boy and he relaxed. The boy noticed them, and he grinned. Burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans, he took a few swaggering steps toward them.
Ignoring Martin completely, he fixed his eyes on Louisa.
"Hi Gorgeous." He said in a croaky voice that sounded to Martin like it had only broken that morning. Martin rolled his eyes, and he couldn't prevent his face breaking into a derisive sneer.
"Oh, hi Danny." Louisa said, without much enthusiasm.
"How's my girl?" The boy asked, attempting to sound playful.
Martin felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He detested the arrogant little upstart instantly.
Taking a step forward, Martin stood up ramrod straight, folded his arms and glowered down at the boy who barely came up to his elbow. Even Louisa was taller than he was.
"And you are?" Martin said, with just a hint of venom.
"Oh, Martin, this is Danny Steele. We went to primary school together. This is his house." Louisa said quickly, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
Danny smirked at him, and held out his hand but the gesture was ignored, and Martin merely responded with a disparaging, sideways glance.
"Don't touch my car." He said darkly, and walked away.
