Lunch outside was looking a little celebratory. Martin was the perfect host. He had set a beautiful table, used fine linen and decorated the table with candles and flowers. I laughingly protested his extravagance.

"Nothing but the best for my guests," he insisted.

"But we're not guests. It's only us."

"No Louisa, everybody who sits at this table is important to me and I get a chance to show it. I don't do a lot of entertaining, hardly ever, but when I do, I want it to be special."

I thought about it and shut up. I needed to encourage this Martin. Yet, I wasn't sure how the lunch would turn out. Chris wisely said nothing to Martin or myself besides greeting us with a smile. He took his place besides Jenny when we came downstairs. Jenny didn't care, she kept up her usual chatter to nobody in particular. Martin busied himself serving us. He wasn't a talker. Me, the fallen mum? I kept quiet waiting on James to speak. We all were. I noticed that he didn't say much for most of our meal but for "thanks" and "Please." It never ceases to amaze me that when he's in a mood he looks so much like Martin, the old Martin, as he now did: face tight, lip set, a slight scowl. I knew that very soon we would be on the receiving end of a mini tirade. In the forthright manner reminiscent of his father, he went right to it after we had eaten.

"Look, we're all family and today I feel as if I'm the only adult." Martin glowered at him, but he kept going. "I don't want either of you to be hurt. I can't live that life. Dad hurt and hiding behind a wall, Mum suffering in silence. It's too early, Mum. Don't let your grief for Dad and the emotions of my graduation cloud your thinking. Give it another six months before you two get wrapped up in each other. I still have more years of medical training ahead of me and I just want things to be as they are now."

He paused for breath, looked around the table, and this was when Chris waded in. I have always liked him and will now love him forever.

Chris began tentatively. "James, I understand your concerns after all you have been through as a family, but I trust your parents to make the right decisions. I have known them for a very long time, and believe me, they have come a long way. Whatever has happened between them doesn't mean that they are going to be a couple, although I hope so. Please give them a chance. Your mum has dedicated her life to your happiness and your dad too, even though it might not have looked that way. They have been through the fire, neither want to be burnt again. Be patient. Your parents WILL do the right thing."

Martin and I were speechless. He recovered first, walked over to James and put his hands on his shoulders. "James, your mum and I are sorry for the pain our actions have caused you. We're grateful that you love us, in spite of. Louisa has many decisions to make about her future and I want to help her and be a part of that future. I have never stopped loving her and if she will have me in her life again, I promise you, I will take good care of her. There's no rush. We will heed your advice and take things slowly."

James looked pained, I could see the unease in his eyes. Like his father, their eyes never lied. He pleaded yet again. "I know it is not in my place to tell you what to do, but I just want you both to be happy."

I knew more than anyone at the table what the two men in my life had suffered as children, Martin more so than James. Yet, if Martin knew what I was thinking he would correct me and say, "For the person hurting, it's hurt plain and simple. A child doesn't have a sense of degree." And he would have been right. I looked at my handsome grown son who had brought me such comfort from the minute his life began in me and felt a deep compassion and regret for the turmoil I had caused him.

"James, I, we would never do anything to make you unhappy. We promise you."

He leaned over the table looking slightly uncomfortable with all the attention on him, squeezed my hand and said, "Promise?"

Martin and I replied in unison, "Promise."

Jenny, bless her heart, blew away the storm clouds when she asked, "Who wants dessert?" There were cries of, "Me, me," even from Martin. Everybody had apples and cheese except Jenny and me. We had wine which gave us the giggles as we remembered our conversation about my morning activities.

Before I left with James, Martin followed me upstairs, ostensibly to help me gather my bits and bobs. After we had done that, he gave me a proper goodbye kiss with a promise of more to come. "Hold that thought," I told him cheerily. "You had better make it worth my while after all the turmoil you caused this afternoon."

"Promise," he said smiling. Then, "By the way, you're responsible for the turmoil as much as I am. It took two to tango."

I laughed. "I concede. We don't miss the villagers do we? Now everybody knows what happened in your bedroom."

"I don't care. Let's go downstairs before they come looking for us." With that, he took my carry-on and led the way.

Driving over with James to his flat, I said, "I'm glad you expressed your fears about me and your father getting back together. That was brave of you. In the past, your father and I didn't know how to be honest about our feelings. We either didn't want to expose our weaknesses or offend each other. I raised you right."

"You did," he retorted with a chuckle. "I had to get it off my chest or forever hold my peace."

I didn't drive back with the Parsons to Cornwall on Sunday. Instead, I stayed for the rest of the week enjoying this other side of London. Although James had resumed his studies with him becoming a house officer at the hospital almost right after graduation, he was able to spend a few hours here and there showing me the sights and sounds of the London he had grown to love. In the evenings, Martin joined us at James's or took us out to dinner.

I spent the last night, the Sunday, in London with Martin. Earlier, we had gone for a walk around a lake a few miles from his home, then on our way back, we stopped for dinner at the restaurant where we had gone for the graduation dinner. Martin had made a reservation and we were escorted to a quiet spot, next to a window with a great view. I was feeling emotional about leaving so I wasn't particularly hungry. Martin insisted that I eat something, especially if I planned to have wine, which I did. I perused the menu, ordered a good glass of wine for myself and a salad. Martin also selected a salad and his usual water. When I asked for another glass of wine, he raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

When we got back to his home, Martin suggested that I have a glass of water so I would be alert for the trip home. Then he took my hand and invited me to mediate with him. A meditating Martin was something I had to get used to. He had explained that it was one of the single most effective practices he had found to relax and centre him, especially before surgery.

"I'm fascinated by the technique of conscious breathing, slowing down the nervous system to relax the body. Breath is the difference between life and death and as a scientist and surgeon, I often wonder if my patients get that. Breathing is such a natural act that we never give it a thought."

I had meditated a few times before but hadn't developed a practice. We sat in his meditation space which was illuminated by candles and silent, except for soft chants wafting around us. I found the music soothing but not enough to still the riot of thoughts racing through my head. Martin must have heard me sigh because he put his hand on mine and said, "Accept your thoughts as they come but let them go immediately. Listen to the rhythm of your breathing, it will help to block the distractions. "

I don't know how long we sat there, but I followed his advice and found it a surprisingly calming experience. I noticed how relaxed Martin was. A gentle smile hovered around his lips, and his eyes pulled me into a comforting embrace. After, we sat in silence, holding each other.

We didn't speak much that night. We were still processing, in our own way, the leap in our relationship. We got ready for bed, cuddled up into each other's arms, and almost immediately fell asleep. The next morning, Martin woke me up with a kiss, a cup of coffee and toast. We dawdled in bed for a little until it was time to get dressed. He helped me to pack, then took me to Paddington in time for the noon train. I knew Martin was shy about public demonstrations, so I reached up, kissed him on his cheek, and boarded the train for home. I watched him from the window until he was a little speck on the platform. I knew my life had changed forever. To what, I wasn't sure.