Chapter 43

Margaret felt that the supper with Ruth had gone better than she could have hoped. It seemed that Ruth actually wanted to help make arrangements for Christopher's care and to aide her in managing their affairs. True Ruth had a superior attitude, implying that Margaret was something of a child, unable to care for herself, but she had borne the humiliation with her usual sangfroid, refusing to let Ruth disturb her equanimity. Ruth had been gracious and agreeable to Margaret's every thought until she had mentioned her expectation that Martin should help defray the costs of Christopher's nursing care. At that Ruth exploded, "No, absolutely not. He doesn't have the financial means to cover that expense."

Margaret replied, "I find that hard to believe. He is head of a department. Heads are compensated quite well."

"Yes, they are; but remember, he is with the NHS. Vascular surgeons are at the top of the pay scale, but even so, NHS pay rates are not excessive."

Margaret was not going to let Ruth intimidate her, "I assume he treats a few private patients on the side as well. I'm certain he has surplus funds he can use to help."

"You are also forgetting he has a young family to support and three children to educate. That will consume all his 'surplus funds'."

Margaret shook her head and replied in a haughty tone, "Well, he should have thought about the expense before he had three children."

Ruth lifted her head, her eyes narrowed to slits and focused on the wall over Margaret's shoulder, and an uneasy silence fell over their table, broken only by the hum of the conversations at the nearby tables. She drummed her fingers on the table top and shifted her eyes to Margaret, examining her with an icy stare.

"Touché." Margaret thought as she leaned back in her chair and, glaring right back at Ruth, smirked after taking a sip of her wine. It was obvious to Margaret that Ruth was stymied. Martin should have thought about the expense of so many children; there was no defence Ruth could supply to excuse his poor planning.

Ruth finally spoke, slowly and distinctly, disdain colouring her voice, "Martin and Louisa wanted all three of their children, despite the expense of raising them. Those children are a blessing that I never expected Martin to have."

Margaret chuckled, waving her hand in the air as if to dispel Ruth's assertion, "A blessing? Are children ever a blessing?" She couldn't help wondering what Ruth was thinking, "Children a blessing? More like a curse. Ruth must be delusional."

"Yes, not that I would expect you to understand. You never wanted nor cared for your own child."

There may have been some truth in Ruth's assertion, Margaret thought, but it wasn't Ruth's place to bring it up. "How dare you! Of course we wanted him. Are you accusing me of neglecting my own child?" Margaret was furious and she raised her head proudly, "I don't know how you can say that." She leaned in across the table and continued in an accusatory tone, "We provided him the best of care, a comfortable home, good food, an excellent education."

"Yes, all his material needs were met. But did you love him, show him affection?"

"I don't know what you mean. Of course we did, but surely you remember what a difficult child he was, always underfoot."

Ruth shook her head in dismay, "No. I remember a sensitive, bright and curious child of four. And I remember a six-year old who had all but shut down due to the remoteness of his father and the coldness of his mother."

"Ridiculous. You don't know what you're talking about. You never had children."

"I do, and I regret that I never took the time to know him better. At least Joan did. She loved him." Ruth paused a moment to stare out the window. It had been threatening rain when they entered the café, and now the rain was pounding on the pavement.

Margaret looked down at her glass and realising it was empty, signalled to the waiter for another. This dinner had become just as dreary and stormy as the weather outside.

Ruth waited for their server to bring Margaret's wine and then she continued, "Joan may have been his salvation. He learned about love from her, and from Phil. It is due to their care for him that he is able to care so attentively for his family now. It is the reason he is able to love so completely now."

"Humph. I haven't seen any of that love; he treats Christopher and me as an inconvenience."

"And you don't know why that is?"

"We're his parents. He should have some regard for us."

"Yes, a father who beat him with a belt or a table tennis bat, and a mother who locked him in a cupboard under the stairs. I heard all about that from Joan. She was in tears describing the bruises on his legs when he came to visit when he was little. Then, you cut him off without looking back when he refused to join the Navy, not speaking to him for years. Did you really expect him to welcome you with open arms?"

Margaret had had enough and she stood to go, "I don't have to sit here and listen to this."

Ruth dropped her head as she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and held up her hand, "Wait. This bickering isn't getting us anywhere. Please sit back down. We need to forget about the past and concentrate on the present. We need to plan your move back to Portugal and find a caregiver for my brother."

Margaret hesitated, but then sat back down, still furious with the accusations Ruth had hurled at her. Ruth had no idea of the difficulties involved in raising a child, how they were always wanting attention, always whinging for one thing or another. Margaret wanted to continue defending herself, but Ruth was right on this point. They needed to plan the move. She needed help in making the arrangements, and it appeared that Martin refused to help. She would have to accept Ruth's offer of assistance and try to maintain civil relations with her.

Ruth had agreed that she should return to Portugal within the next few days. After all, she and Christopher had been in London for over two months with the villa empty all that time and no one checking on it. For all she knew, a pipe could have burst or vagrants moved in taking advantage of their luxurious villa's amenities. She even had nightmares about returning to an empty home, cleaned out by thieves, despite the fact that their community was gated and secure.

By the time they had finished dinner, they had agreed that Ruth would research home health services in Portugal and travel to Portugal herself to make the arrangements for Christopher's care. Margaret would return to Portugal and assess their home to arrange for the accommodation of a live-in nurse. In the meantime, Ruth urged Margaret to maintain contact with Christopher and encourage him to work with his therapists to regain his strength. Margaret was hesitant about her influence over him at this juncture in their lives, but Ruth pointed out that Margaret knew him better than anyone else. Surely, she knew what would motivate him, and as Margaret thought more about it, she realised that Ruth was right. She had felt her influence slipping during these months in London, so she might be a bit rusty, but she knew how to charm him, how to manipulate him to achieve her ends. She had mastered that art years ago. She would have a heart to heart with him before leaving for home. She really didn't want him to be totally incapacitated when they returned to Portugal. It would be so inconvenient.

Despite the ultimate productivity of their dinner, Margaret still felt belittled by Ruth's attitude, but she kept that to herself. It was a small price to pay to be free of the onus of making the arrangements herself. Given their long-standing history of animus, it all seemed a little too cosy and Margaret had decided to keep up her guard whilst taking advantage of the help. She was prepared to treat Ruth as any other hired help, someone to tolerate as long as they were useful.

xxxXxxx

Margaret stood outside the terminal where Carly had agreed to meet her and waved as she saw Carly's silver BMW pull up to the curb, where she popped the boot. She motioned to the porter to stash her bags into the car and gave him an appropriate tip. With a dismissive nod of her head, she opened the door to Carly's motor car and slipped in, leaning over to greet her with an air-kiss on both cheeks.

"It's so good to be back in Portugal. London has been just unbearable this winter."

Carly was all sympathy, "I know dear. You have had a time of it. I remember what it was like when my poor Reggie was ill, a never-ending round of hospitals and care homes. It was such a stressful time, and the worst of it was watching him slip away…just terrible."

'Yes." Margaret sniffed. She really wasn't up to another rehash of Reggie's medical history. "Christopher isn't doing well at all, and now I have to make some decisions about his care, whether to leave him in London, or bring him back here."

"Oh, you can't be serious about bringing him back here." Carly was aghast at the thought. "How would you ever be able to care for him? And medical care is so much better in London than here in the Algarve. I mean it's a lovely place to live and to play, but I wouldn't want to require serious medical care here, especially since we don't speak the language fluently."

"That's certainly something to consider … but Carly." Margaret paused as she considered how to go on. Whether Christopher stayed in London or returned to Portugal was not her primary concern. She herself planned to do whatever it took to return to their home; she wanted to be back among friends, not living as an outsider in London, tethered to a sick old man with a terrible temper. She would have to phrase it carefully to give the appearance that Christopher was her primary concern; after all it was her duty as his wife to ensure he received the best of care. "You know we both loved our life before we left London, but it's not the same. Without a close circle of friends, it's dreary and tedious, and Christopher hates it in his care home. He wants to come home, and so do I. I think the sunny days and time with his friends, even if he can't join them on the golf course, would be so much more therapeutic for him."

"You do have a point." Carly agreed as she made her way onto the main highway leading away from the airport towards their community down the coast.

'But it would be so hard on you …. Having to watch over him 24/7. How would you manage."

Margaret waved her hand as if it were no problem. "I'll have to hire help of course. I'm thinking a live-in health aide. We have maid's quarters in our villa. I think it would work out well."

"I don't know where I would even begin to find help like that."

'I'm certain there are services one can use. There are in England."

"Yes, but we aren't in England, are we?"

"No, but Christopher's sister Ruth is coming over in a few days to help me find someone. She's very resourceful."

"She sounds wonderful. You are so lucky to have her."

"Mmm … yes." Margaret nodded, then turned to gaze out the window, not wanting to show her true feelings.

They continued on their drive when Carly suddenly blurted, "Ruth? Wasn't she at school with us, way back in the day?"

"Yes."

"Seems like you two didn't exactly get along."

"Isn't that an understatement?" Margaret huffed. "Did you know she tried to scuttle our marriage?"

Carly looked puzzled, "I don't remember that."

"Yes, you do. It was that business with Mrs. Jessup. Everyone stole from her nasty little shop, but 'little goodie two-shoes' Ruth seemed to think it mattered."

"Well …." Carly drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, "Not everyone stole from her shop."

Margaret shrugged her shoulders, "It was a long time ago."

'Yes. It was. So, you are friendly now? That's nice."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far. She has offered to help and I have accepted. I'll be glad when it's over and I don't have to spend any more time with her and her 'holier than thou' attitude."

"That must be hard." Carly was truly sympathetic. She was lucky that her children were able to help when Reggie was so ill. They were concerned for her welfare as much as their father's.

"Yes … it is. And she is doing it more for Martin's sake than for Christopher or me."

"For Martin?"

"It was terrible, Carly. He was so distant. Yes, he referred us to one of the best specialists in England, at least he did that, and he claimed to have checked in every week or so, but he rarely spoke with us. I told you he went off to Cornwall for two weeks over the holiday, never even checking in to see how we were coping. I had to call him when Christopher started acting up on Boxing Day. Do you know what he did? He referred me to a social worker and then rang off …. Just hung up when I still had questions. Can you believe it?"

Carly listened politely with her mouth screwed up. Margaret could tell she was debating how to respond. Finally, she said, "Mags, I hate to say it, but what did you expect?'

"I thought some respect, some concern for his father and for me."

"But you have been estranged for years. Did you really think he would suddenly become the devoted son?"

"Devoted? No, Martin was never a devoted son, was he? But yes, I did expect he would exhibit some concern for our welfare."

Margaret paused and looked out the window as they approached the exit for the road leading to their village. "I'm disappointed in you Carly. I thought you were my friend. I thought you would see my side of things."

"Darling, I do see your side of things and I totally understand how you would hope he would be attentive. But I can also see why he might be hesitant given that you have been estranged for so long. I'm just saying that it takes time to reconnect, to forget all the past hurts. I remember when you and Christopher first cut him out of your lives. He wouldn't join the Navy, wasn't that it? I remember your telling me how bitter Christopher was, and how he severed all contact with Martin because of it. He said some very nasty things to Martin, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did. He was furious and he couldn't control his anger and said some very hurtful things. Christopher can be quite unpleasant when he doesn't get his way. … and," she added in a sardonic tone, glancing out the window, "that's an understatement."

Margaret sighed, "I may have been at fault myself, not making the effort to heal the rift. What you don't know is that I have been trying to convince Christopher that we needed to reconcile with Martin for the last three years or so, just for this very reason, and he would have none of it. Now it's too late."

'Well, it may be too late for Christopher, but it isn't too late for you. Were you able to meet Martin's wife after they returned from Cornwall?"

"There was really no time," Margaret sniffed. "Once we decided to move him back here to Portugal, I had to make arrangements to come back myself."

Margaret continued to gaze out the car window, relishing the landscaping along the road leading into their community, "It's so nice to be back home, so sunny and comforting."

She turned back to Carly, "Yes, Martin's wife. Her name is Louise. I'm hoping to make her acquaintance when I return to London. Her mother lives nearby here in Portugal, and she comes to visit every February. I was thinking I could host a pool party for the children one day when they were here, invite them over for an afternoon. I'm sure that James, their oldest would enjoy that. He is such a nice well-behaved child." Margaret was thinking it could be a way to show off her grandchildren to her friends, impress them with the children's good looks and superior intelligence.

"That's a good idea. You'll have to get the mother to agree though."

"I wouldn't think it would be too difficult."

Note to my readers: Thanks to all of you who have left reviews and comments and personal messages. They provide motivation when I am stuck, and it's good to know you are enjoying this story, deviating as it does from the canon.