Chapter 29

It had been a long day and Margaret was exhausted. She was up much earlier than she was accustomed in order to be at hospital by 6:30 to have a final word with Christopher before the staff wheeled him into the surgical wing of the hospital. There was toast and some strong tea in the hospital canteen to fortify herself for the day, and then a call to meet the estate agent that she had contacted the day before to find a suitable flat for what was likely to be the next several months. Over the years in talking with Miriam, she had learned much about the life of Martin and his family, in particular the part of town in which their home was located. She didn't have the exact address, but she did remember the name of the street and the park that was just opposite their home, and she told the agent she wanted to focus in that part of town. It was a very nice part of the city, but not as close to the hospital as she would have preferred, nevertheless it was a very short taxi ride over. She hoped that the location would give her an opportunity to see the family upon occasion, and if so, it would be worth the slight inconvenience.

She found a tastefully furnished flat in a building just two streets over from Martin's home which would serve her purpose. The flat itself was quite small with just one bedroom, but it was unlikely she would be entertaining. If Christopher were released from hospital but required to stay in London, they could always move to larger quarters.

Whilst she was out, she received a call from Martin's assistant, a bit of a girl who dressed in an outrageous fashion. She couldn't understand why Martin would hire such a flibbertigibbet. There must be some hospital rule that he couldn't fire her. At any rate, this girl told her that Martin would meet her in the lounge area of the maternity wing at 4pm sharp. And this girl had the temerity to admonish her not to be late.

So here she was at 3:55, sitting in a worn plastic chair waiting for her son to escort her to his wife's room to "view" her new grandchild. As much as she wished to hold the child and have a picture taken, she was certain that was too much to hope for.

The lounge was worse than a train station. The television was blaring with some reality show and all sorts of people were milling in and out, waiting for visiting hours to start. Her back ached and her feet were sore from walking what must have been miles on the city pavements, and the hard chairs provided no comfort. She had found a place with a good view of the lounge entrance, hoping Martin would be early. She had instilled in him at an early age the importance of being prompt for any appointment. She looked down at her watch as the minute hand finally reached the top of the hour, and when she looked up, Martin was entering the room, scanning it looking for her.

She stood and smiled at him with a show of affection; she was determined to break down the wall he had built against her and Christopher with all the kindness and good will she could muster. He had a scowl on his face as he nodded his head in her direction. Why couldn't the man return her smile? Good manners cost so little and made such a big difference. He waited for her as she walked across the room, "Good afternoon, Martin." She greeted him, sweetly reaching up to give him a hug as he stepped away, avoiding her embrace.

"Mm … hello. Follow me."

He turned on his heel and strode in the direction of the private rooms. She had to jog a bit to keep up, but it wasn't a long walk and he stopped outside a room where the curtains were drawn.

"I will go in and move the baby's cot to the window. You may see her for a minute or so and then I will return her to her mother."

"May I meet Louisa?" She looked at him hopefully.

"No, she is resting. Wait here."

"Could I hold the baby, just for a moment?" Perhaps she could persuade him to take of picture of the two of them together. She wasn't particularly hopeful he would acquiesce, but it was worth asking.

"No. Absolutely not." He opened the door and, true to his word, he moved the room's curtain aside briefly in order to pull the cot to the window. He stood behind the baby, blocking any view she might have had into the room to acknowledge or greet Louisa.

Margaret gazed at the sleeping child and was entranced. She had slipped one of her tiny hands out of the swaddling and her fingers were balled up in a fist that rested quietly on her chest. Margaret could see that she had delicate features, a petite nose, what they call a rosebud mouth, a creamy complexion and rosy cheeks. She definitely took after her mother, thank god. Her head was shaped beautifully, so unlike other babies she had seen over the years. There was a wisp of light brown hair peeking out of the cap on her head, but as Margaret gazed at her, she focused on her ears which had also slipped from the cap. Were they a bit too large for her head? She hoped that this little girl didn't inherit her father's ears. That would be a shame. Of course, with long hair they would seldom be seen, and they could always pin them back if they did grow too big.

It seemed like just a moment and Martin pulled the cot back behind the curtain and exited the room.

"Oh Martin, she is a beautiful baby."

He averted his eyes and indicated the way towards the lifts with his hand. "Mm … Yes"

"And you can always get her ears pinned back if they grow too large." She nodded her head thoughtfully as she offered what she considered a well-meaning and helpful bit of advice.

He squinted his eyes at her in disbelief, and refusing to respond, he changed the subject, "I've spoken with Brendall and he tells me that Dad has come through surgery as well as can be expected. I assume you can make your way back to his room."

"Will you be stopping by later to check on him."

"No, not unless there is a crisis. Brendall will keep me updated; he is quite competent and the staff will take good care of Dad."

"But Martin. He is your father." She wanted to chastise him, but held her tongue and kept her voice as gentle as possible, trying not to antagonize him.

"Mm … I must care for Louisa … good bye."

He had walked her as far as the lifts where he abruptly left her to return to his wife and child.

She reached out for him, "Wait, please."

She could see his shoulders rise and fall in a sigh as he turned back to face her, "What is it?"

"May I see the baby again tomorrow before you take her home?"

"Why? She won't look any different than she does today."

"Still, I'd like to see her."

"No."

Desperate to gain access to his family, she tried another tact, "Perhaps I can call on you in a week or two after you take her home. I'd like to get her a little something."

"No. That's not necessary." With that he turned and left.

She stood there at the lifts exasperated. True to his word, he had let her see the child, but it seemed that he felt his obligation to her had been fulfilled. She felt humiliated at his treatment of her. After all, she had been as cordial and gracious as possible, had apologised for his father's remarks and been complimentary of his child. Good manners would have required that he acquiesce to her request or at least pretend to consider it. She would have to plan her next move carefully.