Chapter 47

Louisa was feeding Joanie when her mobile rang, and she had to stretch over the baby to the table where she had laid it. "Hello"

"Louisa, it's Ruth."

Louisa sank back into her nursing chair and greeted her husband's aunt. "Ruth, thank you for calling. What a day! Poor Martin."

"Yes, I've cancelled my trip to Portugal and am back home. I just spoke with Martin and he's updated me on Christopher's condition. It doesn't sound good."

"No. His Dad was doing so well. And now … well ... it will be weeks before he can start rehabilitation again."

"If he ever does." Ruth wasn't optimistic. "Hip fractures are dangerous at his age. There can be all sorts of complications."

'Really?" Louisa hadn't thought beyond the surgery needed to repair the hip. "What kind of complications?"

"As I said there are all sorts of possible complications. The surgical site can become infected, although that is uncommon nowadays with strict adherence to sterile procedures and the use of antibiotics. The same for UTI's, urinary tract infections and bedsores, but those can be managed … usually. I believe pneumonia is a common complication, and can be fatal if not caught in time. That's one of the reasons patients are encouraged to breathe deeply after every surgical procedure."

"Yes, I remember I had to blow on a tube several times a day after Joanie's birth even though I didn't have any general anaesthesia. They told me it was a precaution to keep my lungs clear."

"Really. That's very interesting. I don't know all that much about it, but I would think an epidural wouldn't necessitate such caution. Well, you learn something new each day, or you should. With respect to Christopher, I suspect the most serious complication may be a DVT – deep vein thrombosis, blood clots in the legs due to inactivity. The clot can break off and lodge in a blood vessel in the lungs, a pulmonary embolism which is frequently fatal."

"Oh my."

"It's good that he was becoming more active before his fall. DVT's can occur whenever the legs are immobile for any period of time. It can be a risk to airline passengers on long flights if they don't move about the cabin from time to time. I'm a psychiatrist, not a practicing medical doctor, so there may be other complications. But it's not a good situation. I'm sure Martin has considered all those possibilities."

"Yes, I suppose he would have. We haven't discussed it."

"So how is he doing?" There was sincere concern in Ruth's voice. Louisa knew how fond Ruth was of Martin, but she wasn't sure she could answer Ruth's question with any certainty.

"You know Martin. He says he's fine."

'Yes, but how is he really?"

Louisa thought about Ruth's question. How was Martin, really? When she asked him this morning how he was doing, he gave her his standard answer, 'I'm fine, thank you." It used to frustrate her when he gave her that answer when she knew that he must be feeling something, sadness or anxiety or fear or anger; but she had gradually learned that he really thought he was fine. He was still physically healthy; therefore, he was fine. She had learned to be more specific, to ask how he was feeling and that sometimes provoked a more nuanced answer, but not always. He still was not a man who was able to recognise, let alone articulate, his deeper emotions until much later after a troubling event, if then.

She had learned to read the unspoken clues to his feelings. When he was deeply disturbed by something, it was common for him to lose his appetite or suffer from insomnia, or close himself up in his study to work on his clock. He had exhibited each of those behaviours at one time or another in the month following his parents' appearance in London. The two weeks in Cornwall had been a healing time; he ate and slept well. Of course, the fresh air and vigorous exercise walking on the cliffs and exploring tidal pools and playing with the boys had stimulated his appetite, as had the availability of fresh fish and vegetables. She was certain that her attentions most nights in their bedroom had helped him sleep soundly as well.

The return to London and the need to attend his father's and mother's needs had initially affected both his appetite and his sleep, but with Ruth's assumption of those duties, he had been getting more sleep in the past week or so. She wasn't sure how this latest turn of events would affect him.

"I really don't know. He was doing fine … really. Your help with his mother has been a godsend. But now? It's too soon to say how he will handle his Dad's return to hospital. I don't think his mother plans to return to London right away. I'll let you know if I think he is struggling."

"Good. I can't say whether we should encourage his mother to return. There's really nothing she can do to make Christopher recover faster, and her presence would undoubtedly be an irritant to us all. Best to let her stay where she is unless Christopher starts asking for her."

There it was again. Joan never had anything good to say about Martin's parents, and neither did Ruth. Louisa found it disturbing. What was it about these people that was so abhorrent? "You know Ruth, I've been thinking. I'd like to meet Martin's parents. He doesn't want me to meet them, but I just feel I should. If they are as bad as he says, we may not get along, but I feel so helpless."

"There's nothing you can do to help, you know."

Ruth paused and neither of them spoke for a minute. Joanie had finished nursing and was starting to squirm; Louisa knew she needed to be winded or she might be difficult later. "Ruth, I want to continue this conversation, but I need to tend to the baby. Can I call you back in a few minutes? I've been feeding her as we have been talking, but I need to wind her. It will only take a few minutes. I'll call you right back."

Louisa winded Joanie, then changed her nappy and put a fresh onesie on her. With the baby cleaned up and on her play mat, Louisa picked up her phone. Ruth answered on the second ring. "Ah. Took a bit longer than you led me to believe," Ruth wryly observed.

"Yeah, I guess it did. Needed a nappy change and all the rest. You know what I mean."

"No matter. I've been thinking. I understand how you might be feeling side-lined with all that's happened with Martin's parents. Perhaps you should meet them, just for you own peace of mind."

"I'd really like that."

"Yes. I'll speak with Martin. I will warn you that his father can be quite nasty. He may be very critical to your face. You should know that he refers to you as 'that fisherman's daughter'. He's convinced that Martin married well beneath his station."

Louisa felt a pang of insecurity flash through her heart. It was the one fear that she always carried with her despite Martin's assurances that her social background meant nothing to him, that to him, she was as well-bred as any London socialite. She responded with a light-hearted rejoinder, hoping that Ruth wouldn't see through her spritely spirit to the hurt she felt in her heart, "Does he know what my mother does? If he thinks that being the daughter of a fisherman is bad, what would he think of my mother being a hairdresser? And that she has been his wife's hairdresser for several years now. I wonder if he knows that?"

Ruth had known Louisa long enough to recognise that her playful tone belied her true feelings. Ruth knew that her remarks might be distressing, but she had to let Louisa know what she was up against. How could she comfort her without downplaying the real situation? "I doubt that he knows about Miriam's profession. You know how hairdressers and their clients share personal information; I'm certain that's how Margaret discovered that you and Martin were married. Undoubtedly, she was so ashamed of the connection that she would never tell Christopher. I don't mean to hurt you, but that is the way she is."

"Okay." Louisa's tone was quiet.

Ruth took a deep breath and plunged ahead with words she found hard to speak despite the heartfelt sentiment behind them, "And you must know that I love you, just as Martin loves you. I have never thought you were his inferior. In fact, you are the best thing that ever happened to him, and I am so grateful that he found you."

"Oh Ruth," Louisa started to sob.

"Perhaps I should call back at another time." Just like Martin, Ruth could be uncomfortable with excessive displays of emotion.

"No. It's just so hard. I know that Martin loves me. And I have come to love you too Ruth. Why do his parents have to be so difficult?"

"They always have been, and at their age, it's doubtful they will change. Let me think on it. I will talk to Martin and try to convince him that he should introduce you to them. Okay?"

"Yes. I would appreciate that. They might not change their minds about me, but at least I will see what he is dealing with … put a face to his tormentors."

"Yes … his tormentors … good description."