Chapter 17

Margaret and Christopher both enjoyed their time at the Copenhagen conference. It was geared towards general surgeons at or nearing retirement who wished to maintain their credentials, and they ran into several old acquaintances and enjoyed renewing the friendships. At their time of life, they found that they had many interests in common, travel and philanthropic activities among them. Of course, Christopher was able to find a number of golf partners among his peers and was able to set up several rounds of golf after he had met the required minimum hours of "continuing education."

None of the other couples had settled outside of the UK, but several were contemplating the move and quizzed both Margaret and Chris about their lives in Portugal. Chris was in his element entertaining everyone about the delights and challenges of golf in their part of the world. Margaret had less to say about the attractions to be enjoyed if one were not a golfer, but she did play up the beauty of their community, the relaxing atmosphere and social life they enjoyed. Funny how, for most of their friends, the biggest obstacle to relocation was family, especially grandchildren. Grandchildren! Margaret couldn't believe it. Was there to be no end to the talk of grandchildren? Infuriating as it was, Margaret was determined not to be left out of the conversation. If it had to be grandchildren, she could "talk" grandchildren; didn't all her friends have the little angels? So, despite having none of her own, Margaret was cordial in her review of the various grandchildren photos proffered, and she was quick to point out the advantages of a holiday destination for luring the children and grandchildren for long visits.

The weather for the conference was perfect for the tours that the organisers had arranged for those not attending the seminars, clear blue skies and neither too hot not too cold. The excursions appeared to be interesting, informative, and likely entertaining. Margaret decided to skip the outings aimed for those with children, the Tivoli gardens, the Zoo and the National Aquarium. Instead she opted for special tours to the castles located in or near the city, the famed Rosenborg Castle, the ornate Christiansborg Palace, Amalienborg Palace, Frederiksborg Castle, and even the Kronborg Castle where the spirit of Hamlet is said to roam.

After two full days of touring Danish castles with their tapestries, jewels, ornate rooms, and historical tales, Margaret was ready for more amusing activities such as visiting the famed Strøget, where the shopping was "to die for". She and Ginny Norman, a friend from many previous conferences spent two glorious days exploring all the shops along these pedestrian streets packed with luxury brands and other sights and attractions. Margaret was quite pleased with her purchases. She found several splendid items to brighten up their home, among them, an exquisite Royal Copenhagen porcelain tea service to add to her collection, and a Georg Jensen silver pitcher perfect for her dining room sideboard. Best of all, she had found the perfect evening dress for the upcoming charity gala in November, and to top it all off, she found shoes and a bag to match. She knew that once again she would outshine all the others attending.

Margaret had always enjoyed the evenings at these conferences and this colloquium was no different. She was pleased to learn that she hadn't lost her edge with the opposite sex. She loved "innocent flirtations", and she was always at her most captivating when she was surrounded by two or three gentlemen exchanging clever banter or innocuous teasing. After the first evening's cocktail party, there was never a shortage of men attending to her needs where ever she found herself. They were delectable … and the food was excellent as well. Meals catered for these conferences could be hit or miss, but the chefs at the conference hotel had outdone themselves preparing traditional Danish dishes that appealed to most everyone attending. The luncheons provided during the tours were satisfactory, but she and Ginny had delighted in their one experience with a smørrebrød. Not wanting to waste any time with a long and leisurely lunch their first shopping day, they dropped into a small café for a quick sandwich and a cup of coffee for lunch. By the second day, after they had each found several treasures to ship home, they splurged with the traditional Danish lunch, delicious.

As the conference was nearing a close, Margaret and Christopher decided to extend their trip to Scandinavia for an additional two weeks, passing time in Oslo and Stockholm with Ginny and her husband Harry. They had been acquainted with the Normans before Christopher had retired, spending time with them at various conferences over the years. Harry was a good ten years younger than Christopher and had been affiliated with a hospital in Wales. Margaret and Ginny had struck up a friendly acquaintance during those conferences and had renewed their friendship this week as well, enjoying their shopping trip especially.

In Oslo, they took a cruise on the Oslo fjord where the scenery so close to a major city was spectacular. It was late summer and quite cool on the water. Margaret was glad she had packed a warm jacket and scarf. Every evening they sampled the best restaurants the two cities had to offer after full days touring museums and historic buildings. For Margaret, the highlight was the visit to the Drottningholm Palace and the tour of the Drottningholms Slottsteater, the theatre built in 1766 for Queen Louisa Ulrika. In general, she wasn't particularly interested in mechanics, what woman would be she thought. She joined the tour only because the others thought it could be enlightening, but she was completely enthralled by the tour backstage learning how the theatre's mechanical operations put in place back in the 18th century were still in use today. The guides invited several members of the tour to use the equipment to make a thunder and lightning "storm", and Chris, never one to shy away, jumped at the chance. Watching the crew change the sets during the production, made the opera they enjoyed that evening even more sensational knowing just how much work had gone into creating an authentic experience.

She had escaped the grandchildren obsession of her friends and managed to cope with the subject during the conference, but even on this trip there were women of her age comparing pictures and anecdotes about their grandchildren. Some with older ones weren't shy about listing each child's accomplishments. Even their travelling companions, Harry and Ginny, made a few comments about their precocious oldest grandson who was about to enter medical school at the age of 15. One evening at dinner the conversation drifted to the topic of children and grandchildren. Harry was of the opinion that one's offspring were the primary source of joy in life, more so than even attaining the pinnacle of one's career ambitions. Christopher was not to be persuaded, but Harry persevered. "You have a son, don't you Ellingham? Martin Ellingham, head of vascular at Imperial? Outstanding reputation. You must be very proud of him. I bet you have lots to catch up on whenever you get together."

Margaret bowed her head wanting to sink under the table, but Christopher had no such qualms, "We don't speak, haven't since he finished medical school."

"Really? That's a shame. If you don't mind my asking, what happened?"

"Ungrateful child. He refused to do the honourable thing for his country and serve in the Navy. All the Ellingham's have served with pride for generations. But he refused."

Harry was sympathetic, "Not everyone is cut out for military service, you know. How long has it been? Have you tried to reach out to him? It's never too late to reconcile."

"No point. What's done is done." Christopher blustered, trying to change the subject. "So … what's on our agenda for tomorrow?"

Harry shook his head, "Never know when you might need his help. You should think about it."

When they returned to their room that night, Margaret returned to the subject of reconciliation with Martin. "I've been thinking. Harry is right. If either of us were to become ill, it might be good to have Martin available to work with our consultants to ensure that we have the best of care."

"Nonsense. I am perfectly capable of understanding our options if the time comes. You seem to forget that I am a surgeon as well."

"Christopher, it's not a matter of "if", it's a matter of "when". What if you are incapacitated, and unable to speak? I would have to rely completely on the consultant's advice."

"That's a long time off. And if that happens, just let me go. I don't want to be hanging on attached to some ventilator or worse."

"I just think …. "

"Let it drop. We are not reconciling with Martin!"

xxXXXxx

When she returned from her trip, things had settled back into a semblance of normalcy. The novelty of Portia's granddaughter had waned and conversation was currently focused on the spate of strokes experienced by two of the men in their wider circle of friends. It was a sad time and the four close friends were forced to think not only of their husbands' health but of their own. None of them had a long time-horizon left on this earth. Time was short and they needed to make the most of it.

With that in mind, the four friends decided to plan a few trips for the next year. They had each travelled with their husbands to locales both familiar and exotic; but except for Margaret's recent trip to Scandinavia, it had been a decade or more since any of them had ventured beyond Portugal or a short trip back home to England. They started to compile a list of places to revisit or explore: Budapest, Amsterdam, St. Petersburg, India, Sicily, Thailand, Japan; the list grew as they each thought about the places they had dreamed about. They finally settled on an inaugural week- long trip to Paris.

All of them had visited Paris many times before, but thought that it was time to enjoy the delights available in the autumn. They would visit a few museums, the Louvre of course and spend a day at Versailles. There was always something new to see at both venues. And two or three days of shopping at the "les deux grands magasins", Printemps and Galleries Lafayette on Boulevard Haussmann had to be part of the trip. They wanted to do something just a little out of the ordinary and thought a tour of the catacombs might be just the thing, perhaps not. A night at the Moulin Rouge, or le Lido, or even possibly the Folies Bergère would be fun. Dinner at the Eiffel tower would cap off the trip. All in all, their week-long trip ended up being ten days and it was wonderful. They all agreed that they must do it again … in the spring. They would start planning after the holidays.

With the realisation that leaving a legacy was even more important than ever, they worked hard to make their annual November fund raiser more successful than ever. Margaret agreed to chair the planning committee once more, and she threw herself into the preparations. It was hard work and time consuming and Christopher grumbled at the clutter that had overtaken the villa, but it was entirely worth all the extra effort she had to expend. Everyone agreed that it was the most lavish and entertaining event they had sponsored in the past ten years, and the donations to their charity had far surpassed any year in the recent past. The local newspapers had full page spreads of the gala highlighting Margaret's contribution to the night's festivities. She was quite pleased with the results, and enjoyed accolades from the community as well. She had been surrounded by admirers all night long, and the photos in the local paper were excellent, highlighting her beauty as well as her organizational skills. She was quite pleased with the coverage both in the society pages and in the fashion pages where there was a lengthy description of the ball gown she had acquired on her trip to Copenhagen. Margaret had to admit she looked absolutely fabulous.

As always during the holidays, Miriam was a key player in making Margaret look her best. Margaret generally enjoyed the pampering that she received at Miriam's hands, despite the occasional stress she had to endure when Miriam offered pictures of her family. She had been visiting with Louisa when Margaret left for Scandinavia and had brought back several photos of the children. It had only been 5 months or so since Robert's birth but already he had changed, sitting up in his high chair at the table, grinning with a smear of applesauce plastered across his lips. And here he was sitting upright on the floor playing with his toys and laughing heartily. Oh, how nice it would have been to be able to share his pictures with her friends. And James, still such a handsome boy. Miriam went on and on about how advanced he was, reading at a year 2 level according to his mother. He had celebrated his fourth birthday in July several weeks before her visit, so most of Miriam's photos were of Louisa and the children on the beach splashing at the water's edge, at the playground, or around the farmhouse playing with Joan. Miriam had even caught a few snaps with Ruth as she was reading a book to the two boys. Seeing Ruth at the farm always surprised Margaret though it shouldn't have. Ruth was a frequent visitor to the farm years ago when they were all young, bringing the odd fellow around for the family to vet. Once Christopher's career took off, they rarely returned except to drop Martin off for the summer, but she supposed the two sisters remained close, she really hadn't ever thought about it until now.

Margaret and Chris had a quiet Christmas as they always did now that most of their friends had grandchildren. That was fine with Margaret because it gave her more time to prepare her special New Year's Eve holiday celebration. She was fortunate that Miriam had an early morning slot available to arrange her hair in a simple but elegant style, nothing quite as elaborate as the previous year. Louisa had sent her mother a new photo album with pictures of the family's Christmas, and Miriam was full of talk about their holiday celebration. It was just the Ellinghams that year. Miriam's son and his family had spent the holidays with his wife's family, but even so, there were plenty of photos to share. Margaret flipped through the album dutifully, pausing at several close-ups of the two boys. There was one picture of Martin sitting with the two boys reading a book. Robert was seated on his lap clutching a small giraffe and a small brown bear to his chest. His head was resting on Martin's chest and his eyes were focused on the book. Martin, in his shirtsleeves with tie askew, had his arm wrapped close around James who was also intently staring at the book. She looked more closely at the picture to see the title of the book, The Night Before Christmas. How appropriate, she thought cynically, although it was a beautiful picture of a father with his sons, even Margaret had to admit that. Miriam noticed that Margaret had stopped to inspect it and commented, "Yeah. That's Louisa's favourite of all the photos. She says it's her three boys, the way she always wants to remember them."

"Mmm … "Margaret turned the page where there were several pictures of Robert. He was growing up so quickly. There were pictures of him standing at the tables scattered about the lounge, grinning with pride. It was obvious that he was ready to walk. When Margaret commented on his achievements, Miriam confirmed that he was standing on his own now and that it was only a matter of time before he took those first few tentative steps. "They grow up entirely too fast. Joan says that Martin was early to walk as well, precocious in so many ways. You should hear her brag on his childhood accomplishments. She claims that James and Robert are both following in his footsteps …. so to speak. She let loose a laugh at that last line.

Margaret smiled, graciously acknowledging the pun, "Ah, yes."

Martin was an early walker. Funny, Margaret mused, that she didn't remember his first steps. She supposed that the nanny encouraged him, or possibly Joan during that late summer trip she and Christopher took to … somewhere. Their nanny had just given notice and Joan took the train down to watch Martin until they could find a new nanny. Martin would have been nine months perhaps, several months before his first birthday at any rate. He was sitting on the floor when they arrived home from their trip playing with some blocks. Joan picked him up and handed him to her. She remembered Joan nattering on about how clever he was. He was a big baby and heavy. She remembered giving him a kiss and returning him to Joan so she could go upstairs to freshen up from the trip. Joan left for Cornwall shortly after their return, after they had engaged a new nanny, who was diligent in giving them a full report of his activities at the end of every day. She must have reported his first steps one of those days, she couldn't remember. Margaret recalled that she always made a point of dropping into the nursery every morning before she went out, and she did remember him crawling over to pull himself up, tugging on her skirts. At some point he was toddling over to her. Was he standing and walking before his first birthday? Was that earlier than for most infants? She had no idea, but she did remember how annoying it was, how she had to straighten and smooth her skirts before going out after those few moments in the nursery. It was a long time ago.

She flipped through the remaining pages of the photo album. There was a nice photo of Joan sitting in front of the Christmas tree with the two boys. Amazing how photogenic those children were. How fortunate that neither had inherited Martin's overly large ears. Margaret thought Joan looked a bit off, a bit weary; maybe having all the family about and caring for the new baby was too much for her. Martin needed to keep an eye on her, but really, that wasn't any of her business, was it? She had a party to host that night, best to keep her focus on that. She placed the photo album back on Miriam's table, "Very nice pictures." She glanced toward the windows at the front of the shop, "Looks like the weather should be nice for all of tonight's festivities."