Everyone has been so kind. Your nice reviews and commentaries keep the little energizer plot bunnies going... and going... and going, as you will see here. No rotten tomatoes for this one please; I don't much like tomatoes.
Their wedding was arranged quickly, well as quickly as could be considering the bureaucratic red tape involved and the scores of returning soldiers wishing to get married as well.
They told Andrew about it all over dinner one evening. His initial reaction had been astonishment to be quickly followed by a bit of pique. Christopher could see that his son was hurt by it and tried to decipher if it was because he thought his mother was being replaced by Sam or if it was because Sam had rejected Andrew after a paltry attempt at a reunion and was now accepting him. Either way, Christopher wasn't pleased with Andrew's attitude toward either of them and told him so.
Andrew stewed for two days and showed up on Christopher's doorstep on the third. "Thought I might take you and Sam to a celebratory lunch," he said merrily.
"Thought you didn't approve," Christopher replied icily.
"Look Dad, I'm sorry. I just... you caught me unawares, is all. I am happy you've found someone. And... Sam, well... I think she always cared more for you than me anyway. I teased her once that she'd eventually agree to marry me if only to have you as her father in law. But after thinking about it, and seeing you together the other night, I can see it is genuine and... well, if the war taught us anything, it's to grab happiness whenever you can. Just took me a little time to get used to it. And I suppose my pride was a bit wounded too. Hey, at least she'll be a Foyle now... part of the family. I'll be alright with it, I promise."
They did have that lunch, where Andrew apologized to Sam for his boorish behavior. And while all three of them knew things would be uneasy for awhile as Andrew adjusted to the idea of his father and Sam, they also knew it would be fine in the end.
Reverend and Mrs. Stewart proved to be a bit more complicated, neither able to grasp why their only daughter should marry a man more than two decades older than she. It was Aubrey Stewart who approached them most reasonably. But Christopher understood when even he expressed concern and he made a trip to London to voice it.
"I understand completely," Foyle told his soon to be uncle by marriage when they met . "Sam's still young and it must seem to you and her parents as if I might be taking advantage of her. I assure you that it is not my intention. I care for her very much and she assures me she returns those feelings. My one regret is that she'll most likely be left a widow at a young age. Until then, however, I intend to do everything possible to see to her happiness."
"Oh, I don't doubt any of that, Christopher. I suppose we were all rather caught unexpectedly. She's had one or two prospects, younger men and we'd hoped with the young men returning she would finally settle down. We had no idea that her choice was in front of us all along," Aubrey said. "Although, I will admit I saw that she was rather admiring of you when you both visited the vicarage that time, but if you felt anything beyond companionship for her then, I certainly did not see it."
"Right, well... to be fair, I'm not sure either of us recognized it either, not until recently."
"One question her father will have when he arrives and while I'm not completely comfortable asking but feel I must is this. This isn't a marriage of necessity, is it?"
Christopher looked into the clergyman's eyes and answered honestly. "I asked Sam to marry me after trying to deny to her and to myself how strongly I care for her. I told her once that I she is invaluable and I couldn't go anywhere without her. The truth of that was made clear to me on my journey to America. Even so, I returned with the intention of staying away from her but fate intervened and brought us together again. My erm, willpower only goes so far. I couldn't deny what I feel any longer and you can, um, imagine my surprise when she admitted her feelings for me? She convinced me that our union would not be inappropriate. As I told her, I am marrying her for all the usual reasons."
The vicar responded, "Sam visited me after you left for America. I have never seen her so forlorn. I honestly feared for her... emotionally. It was a relief when she found a job because I thought it might help take her mind off of her melancholy. And it did help, but the melancholy remained. I was relieved when seeing her upon my arrival this morning, she is more herself."
"Right... wull, I did see some of that when I came back. And it was when I asked her about it... that's when we admitted our feelings."
After a few solemn moments, the older man smiled. "Yes, yes... I've always thought you had a fondness for my niece and I can see now that it is more than just a little. I can also see that this perhaps comes as much of a shock to you as it has to her family?"
Christopher's mouth angled down as his eyes twinkled in agreement. He rubbed his fingers across his brow and then spoke. "A shock, yes. Still can't believe that Sam can have such regard for me. Also, erm... feeling very fortunate?"
Aubrey Stewart nodded affably and the conversation moved on to other topics. The three of them had dinner that night and put Aubrey on a train the next morning after getting a promise from him that he would be back for the wedding.
Christopher bought them lunch and walked her back to her flat. "Mmight be good to have a lie down?" he suggested at her door, having noticed how tired she seemed.
"Yes, I do feel a bit off," she admitted. "Perhaps you're right. Will I see you later?"
"I'll come around for tea? Mmmm, bring something to eat in?"
"Sounds lovely," she said, her eyes looking almost fevered. She looked pale too, he thought. "You be alright until then?"
"Yes, just tired," she insisted.
"Right," he replied, unconvinced. "Wull, I'll erm... stay near my phone, should you need me then..." He kissed her gently on her forehead and watched as she disappeared behind her door. She gave him a faint smile as she closed it, leaving him standing in the hall staring worriedly at her door.
Christopher stopped in at the tailor's shop for a quick fitting on his new suit. He hadn't bought any new ones in years and thought perhaps he should for his wedding. As he stood in front of the mirror while the tailor fussed and preened over the suit, pinning here and marking there, Christopher stared at his reflection. A small grimace worked across his face as he took in the whole of himself standing there. Yes, he was still fit and trim, well as fit and trim as a man his age could expect to be. But the lines in his face were deepening and the hair kept receding or was turning greyer with each day, and the skin sagged in places, and... He sighed. What could Sam see in him? He looked more like a father of the bride than a groom. He chewed on his lower lip for a moment as he tried to imagine himself in ten years, or even five, and wondered what she would think of him then when the hair had thinned more and what was left was white and the lines had turned into bags and jowls and fit and trim meant he could still wear the same clothes because he'd lost muscle and the remaining skin sagged. How long would it be until she came to him asking for her freedom? His mouth twitched as he renewed his promise that he would let her go when the time came. But would his heart be able to stand it, he wondered.
After the fitting ended, Christopher headed to his own flat. He had some letters to write, more like announcements of his intended nuptials to friends and distant family. There was no expectation that any of them would travel to London for the wedding and honestly, he preferred that they did not. But they had worried over him after Rosalind's death and continued offer support and care over the years and deserved to hear that he had good news to share.
Later, when Foyle returned to her flat, he found Sam worse, very much worse. "Right then," he said. "Getting you looked at." Sam needed help down the steps and once he had her in his car, he drove as quickly as he could to the hospital, where of course he was mistaken for her father. Not one to pass on opportunity, however, he allowed the mistake to continue so that he could remain close to Sam.
Of course, he wasn't allowed in her room for the examination but remained in the hall just outside. It wasn't a conscious decision on his part; he simply couldn't bear to be too far away when Sam might need him, or want him. The doctor appeared a lengthy quarter hour later and looked at him quizzically. "She presents as a victim of radiation poisoning," the doctor explained dubiously.
"Radiation?" Foyle asked. "Sshe was exposed to a small dose a fortnight ago. Checked out by a doctor then and said to be fine."
"She said she had been ill for a day or two but it passed. More recently, she's had a mild headache and growing fatigue. And apparently the baby suffered from it," explained the doctor. "Your daughter is having a miscarriage. And she is ill. Perhaps it is the miscarriage but more likely her body trying to manage the radiation too. I can help her with the radiation sickness but the baby won't stand a chance. Or I can try to stop the miscarriage but it will delay treatment for the radiation. I will add though, that even if I can stop the miscarriage at this point, the baby's chances would be slim. And it would most likely be born with some deformity."
Christopher bit the inside of his cheek mercilessly. He'd allowed this to happen, letting her get so mixed up in his investigation. Closing his eyes to fight back the rage that engulfed him, anger at himself, at the men who attacked her, anger with the world that seemed so determined to crush Samantha Stewart, he had but one thought. "Doctor, the baby is the result of an attack. She neither knows the father of the child nor wants the child. She planned to have it adopted after giving birth. She will be upset that the child is lost, but it is her life you protect," he said emphatically.
The doctor's eyes grew wide and then he nodded. "Thank you. I know how to proceed now."
"And she will be alright?" Foyle had to know.
"Yes, in time she should be. She'll need a long rest after this though. And she should consult with her own doctor before another pregnancy, have the effects of the radiation monitored for awhile. The exposure seems to be minimal so I would think that once she has regained her strength there wouldn't be any difficulty. But we really don't know much about the lasting effects; we're still learning, you see. "
Christopher's stomach dropped. Sam wanted children, he knew. She didn't deserve this, the worry, the threat to her own future dreams. "Right, then rest she will get. And when can I see her?"
"Let's get the antibiotics started and I'll have a sister fetch you, hmmm?"
Foyle nodded. Having been through the hospital routine before, he understood the procedure and could be patient now that he knew he was not in danger of losing Sam. The waiting area was too far down the hall, however; so he settled against the opposite wall and waited.