Martin ... the hours leading up to his wedding.
My only stipulation to Caroline and Gary was to keep the wedding simple.
Privately, I told them, "This is Louisa's day. Everything must be perfect. Spare no expenses to do that."
Over lunch with Victoria on Friday, the day before the wedding, we go over the details of the ceremony since she will be officiating.
"I'm happy for you Martin. You and Louisa are ready for each other."
"I have you to thank for that. Without your help, I would never have made it this far."
"You stayed on the path Martin. It was all your doing."
I look at my friend and realize that since she has been back in my life, I have learned to trust and accept my vulnerabilities. Like Chris, she has put up with me, prodded and poked and let go when it was time for me to venture out on my own.
Looking at my notes which Louisa and I had prepared, I tell her, "There's nothing really to discuss. It will be simple. James will give Louisa away and Chris will be my best man."
"So, no big bash for you? You do know that your Imperial colleagues are angling for an invitation," she teases.
"You know me better Victoria. We want to be able to talk with our guests as most of them had a hand in us getting back together. After, Louisa and I will spend a quiet evening at home."
Victoria assures him that she's only teasing. Then she gets serious. "Louisa is lovely. I can see why you waited for her."
"I didn't plan to. She was always out of reach, but there was nobody else I wanted."
Victoria pats my hand. "I know you, stubborn in love. That quality served you well. Louisa is worth the wait."
"I hope she feels that way. "
Victoria takes my hand. "Look at me. Louisa adores you. She will be your strength come what may."
Chris calls later.
"Everything alright for the big day?"
I know that's a code for don't screw it up and be there. "Everything is going as planned."
Chris has always been there for me and I'm forever grateful.
"Louisa and I would not be getting married tomorrow if you hadn't pushed and prodded. Thanks."
There is silence on the other end and I know I have caught him off guard. It isn't often that I tell him thanks. Yet, I'm always grateful for his help, solicited and unsolicited.
By default, James is spending the night at my house. Louisa has decamped to his flat for some "me" time. This morning at breakfast, she had suggested , rather offhandedly, that James and I could have a stag night.
"A stag night? Haven't you got it wrong? He's my son, not my mate. Furthermore, I'm not giving up my freedom." Not that I have mates, Chris is the nearest friend I could call a mate.
"Martin don't be so pedantic, you know what I mean."
"Actually, I don't. James and I will be here and we'll do what we usually do."
Changing the subject, I plead with her, "I'm going to miss you. Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Please don't start that again. It's only for one night."
So here I am locking up the house, and James is upstairs studying. Strangely, it turns out to be a father and son night with James playing the role of father.
I join James in his room and am surprised to see how well my desk fits in. Uncle Phil had made it for me to use during my summers with him and Joan. The desk is one of the few things Louisa had brought with her. Joan had passed it down to James when he was seven, about the same age I was when I got it. He has arranged a set of photographs on the desk. There is one of me reading at the desk which Louisa had retrieved from Joan's barn after her death, another of Louisa holding James as a baby with Joan's arms around them, and another his friends had taken of us at our table cum desk going over past exam papers. In another life, I would have harrumphed at such a display. Today I look at the photographs with a lump in my throat thinking, this is my family.
James's long frame is sprawled out on his bed and a few textbooks litter his bed. I take the side chair.
"So Dad, are you nervous?" Looking me straight in the eyes, he waits for my response.
"Yes and no. I have waited a long time for today. It's more like the butterflies you get before a stage performance. The nervous system goes into overdrive and the adrenaline rush allows the best of you to come to the fore."
He looks at me skeptically.
"Yet I'm strangely calm. At this point, your mum and I want the same things for each other.
"Do you wish you had married her on your first try instead of her marrying Dad and you becoming her second husband?"
I cut him short. That was his and Louisa's life in which I had no business.
"That was the path it took for us to be together. It gave me the time to become worthy of her love as well as yours. James, we weren't ready for each other. Now we are.
After a long silence, when I know he is thinking how best to say something, James opens up to me about family secrets. One in particular makes me angry.
"After Dad died, the village seized upon a what they thought was a juicy piece of gossip. They didn't mean to hurt Mum, but they did. Somebody spread the rumour that she was on the hunt for another husband to take care of her, just as she had gotten you to take care of her by getting pregnant with me. They whispered behind her back, the third time's the charm. They even took bets to see how long it would take her to find someone. It got so vicious, she hardly wanted to leave the house.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "She has never said anything to me about this. She speaks so well of the village."
"That's how she is," he says and continued.
"One night, she went to a party at the pub for one of her former students. When she arrived, everybody went quiet. She knew what was happening and throughout the night, tried to find out who was spreading the rumour. She didn't stop until a woman, we both knew, forced her husband to own up. She told him in her loudest voice that he was a sorry excuse a man and couldn't stand in the shoes of either you or Nathan. She never set foot in that pub again."
I feel rage boiling up in me which I struggle to contain. James must have seen the effect it was having in me because he said, "Let it go. It doesn't matter now. I shared this with you because I want you to know some of the pain Mum has endured."
Though unsaid, I understood that James was entrusting Louisa into my care with the hope that I would treat her well and be her protector.
"You don't have to worry James, I will look after your Mum."
My poor Louisa, my poor James. I know the ugly, parochial underbelly of the village that can erupt without warning. I had experienced it firsthand. But Louisa and James ... they deserved better. For the first time I began to understand why the village is no longer a happy place for Louisa.
To lighten the mood, James and I attempt a game of chess. We are competitive, a bit of a perfectionist, and have always enjoyed the cut and thrust of the game. Tonight it holds little interest for us. I know he's thinking about Nathan and the life they had. I feel a closeness to him that I had never felt before. He must have felt it too. As I got up to go to bed he held my hand and said, "You and Mum will have a happy marriage."
Louisa had called earlier and she is as emotional as I had expected. My job is to calm her and assure her for the umpteenth time that we will be there for each other tomorrow. I think I did this fairly successfully because after 10 minutes she said she was falling asleep.
"Martin, I want you to know that I love you and always will." Those were her last words to me before she admitted, as I suspected, that the wine she had consumed with her friends had gotten to her.
"I love you too. Please get some rest."
After the call, and all the talking I have done today, I am emotionally exhausted. Sleep comes quickly.
I give myself a full body stretch and make a wish that Louisa will enjoy her day. Looking through the window, the sky is clear and the tree tops glisten with dew. A perfect day. I give thanks that my wait is over. I missed not having Louisa in our bed last night, though I respect her reasons for wanting "Me" time.
Has it only been 15 months since that fateful day at Chris when we came back into each other's lives, I ask myself. If Louisa had not decided to have James, with or without my support, had not sent him to me when it was time to go to medical school and had I not honoured my promise to Laura, Louisa and I would still be living separate lives. There are no coincidences, Victoria likes to remind me.
Since she moved in permanently with me, it has taken us a little time to adjust to living with each other, but we're doing fine, despite our differences.
I am a creature of habit. I wake up every morning at about the same time, eat the same breakfast and have pretty much observed the same routine for as long as I can remember. That is, until James came to London. Then I willingly tweaked my schedule to accommodate him. My philanthropic projects have taken me slightly off course. However, they have brought a richness to my life that I could never have imagined, chief of which is that James and Louisa are now a part of those projects.
Living with Louisa, I have made some adjustments. Unlike me, she revels in the uncertainty and gentle chaos of her everyday life. She gets up most mornings wondering what's for breakfast. Getting dressed is a well choreographed dance of picking and choosing, until she finally selects the first item she had chosen. We would be reading in the lounge and she'd be overcome by emotions, sometimes lust, and come sit in my lap demanding that I come off course and fly with her. Those interludes usually end well, so I didn't mind. I have to eat dinner by a certain time, same for bedtime. Not Louisa. She now doesn't mind eating early because it gives us more time for each other before bed and for dancing which is something we enjoy. Louisa goes to bed when she pleases and sleeps fitfully. She wakes up at least once during the night, lies awake racking her brain about nothing in particular, then burrows her way into me or collapses on my chest, before she falls asleep again.
Our approach to problems, or what she calls problems, are fundamentally at odds. Yet, we manage to muddle through to a solution. Case in point is our wedding ceremony. Left to me, we would have gotten married at a register's office, with James, Chris, Jenny and Victoria as our witnesses.
I had agreed to everything Louisa suggested except her having a bridesmaid, and two at that.
"Why?" I asked querulously. "If you must, one is enough. Have her read something unless you're going to need help with your dress."
Once we decided on the number and what the person would do, she had another problem. "It has to be Caroline or Isobel, but it's hard to choose one over the other without offending one of them."
I couldn't see the logic of her reasoning. "We said we want a simple wedding. Throw a coin or something. Your friend Isobel had wanted to be your bridesmaid, let her have her wish now. Furthermore, Caroline and Gary are coordinating the event."
I had never understood why a heavily pregnant woman would take the risk of premature delivery or miscarriage by taking a long train ride to the village to be Louisa's bridesmaid. As it turned out, even if we had gone through with the wedding, she wouldn't have been a bridesmaid. She would have been in a hospital bed with her newborn baby which, with no other recourse, I had delivered.
We differed on what Isobel would read. Louisa wanted something that applied equally to the bride and groom. I tried to make my preference known without hurting her feelings.
"Our wedding is about you, about making you happy. My role is to make that happen."
She looked dubiously at me. "Are you sure?
"I am sure," I said, "and I have something perfect for the reading." With that, I went to my study and returned with the poem I had found the day after our engagement. I wasn't sure then what kind of wedding we would have, but I knew it would be my way of publicly pledging my love to her.
She liked it. "This is beautiful. It is perfect. You're full of surprises. This is so romantic."
Louisa and I are different but similar. She is my yin, and me her yang. She talks, I mostly listen. She tolerates the city, it is all I have ever known. She enjoys gentle chaos, I prefer calm. She worries, I prefer to fix it and if I can't, move on. Her temperament is mercurial, I'm as steady as the Northern Star. She's outgoing, makes friends easily. I prefer my own company and a small circle of friends. Together, we complete each other.
She hadn't brought much with her. The only big items were James's desk, her rocking chair and decorative pieces. According to her, Joan had given her the chair as a gift and she had kept it to preserve the memories of times spent nursing or playing with James or just soothing him as a baby. Joan had taken her to Truro to get a few bits and pieces and had surprised her by taking her to a posh furniture shop where she showed her the rocking chair. She had protested vigorously and told Joan that the money could be used to get things for James or put towards his schooling. Joan was equally adamant and had told her that I was not a mean person, and I would provide generously for James.
Louisa had relented and graciously accepted the chair. She had even given it a name, "Joanie."
What Joan didn't tell her was that I had selected and paid for the chair, after asking her what else Louisa needed besides things for the baby.
"Don't know that she would accept anything personal from me or you. But she could certainly do with a good rocking chair to replace that piece of junk Bert gave her. He means well, but she's not some charity case."
To this day, Louisa doesn't know I was behind this gift. Auntie Joan had helped me a lot to give her things or extra money, by keeping me abreast of what was happening. Dear Auntie Joan. She would be happy to know that her "chalk and cheese" were finally getting married.
A knock on the door interrupted my reverie. It was James, right on time. It was 7 am, the time we had agreed to rise for what would be a busy day.
"Good morning James. Ready to give your mum away into my care?"
"Yes. She will be in good hands. The best."
We sit in my bedroom sipping our espresso which he had brought up with him.
"Has your mum spoken with you?" I ask.
"No. She texted me to come over about 15 minutes earlier than planned. Said she had something to show me. Has she called you?"
"No. Her wish was that after last night, I would not see or speak with her until you brought her to me. You don't need to get here until 11 am. Caroline's instructions."
"Let's go downstairs. I'll make us a real English breakfast, something to fill you up until lunch." I smile. Sounds like our roles have been reversed. James is fathering me.
He prepares soldiers and fruits which ordinarily I would have enjoyed. I didn't eat much. Too many butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.
When Caroline and Gary, sans their spouses, arrive at 9 am, I was already showered and sitting quietly by myself in the lounge. They had done some decorating the previous day out in the courtyard and had warned me that it was off-limits until I came outside for the ceremony. This morning they would complete the finishing touches.
I don't mind. I'm sure Louisa will appreciate the extra touches. I leave them to it and go upstairs to see that everything is ready for when my bride comes home.
Her new towels are hanging in the en suite. Her toiletries are everywhere, yet they add a homey touch to what has been a masculine domain for so long. The bed is made up with the new bed linen she likes, a composition of rust and grey with tiny yellow branches and a matching duvet. A huge bouquet of perfumed yellow roses are on the table in the bedroom's seating area. Caroline had suggested it and I agreed with her. Her clothes are neatly arranged in the closets, a job I had tackled yesterday. I unwrap the package sitting on my bedside table, a rose pink negligee set that she had admired the last time we went shopping and place it under her pillow. She had liked it when we saw it at the store, but as usual, had hesitated about buying it because of the price. I had called the store right after we left and had them deliver it to my office. I open her top drawer to check that her other wedding gift is still there. It is a string of pearls and matching erring which I'm sure she will like.
At 10 am, Aunt Ruth and her husband arrive. Dennis soon buries himself in a law journal he had brought along, "Weddings are not my thing," he explains when I look inquiringly at him. I leave him contentedly reading in the lounge while Aunt Ruth and I go into the study.
"Well Martin, you have finally pulled it off. How long has it been?"
I don't want a battle of wits today, so I hug her as I open the door to the study.
"Too long," is all I can muster.
"Better late than never I always say. I haven't seen Louisa since Joan's funeral although we have spoken regularly on the phone. How is she?"
"She's fine. Went through a rough patch leading up to and after her husband's death, but she's fine now."
"She has been through a lot," Ruth observes then zeroes in on me.
"You look well. Better than I have ever seen you look. James being in London is the best thing that could have happened to you. I'm surprised to hear that you have become a real father. James tells me about the things you do together and speaks well of your Science Is Cool project. Guess you always had it in you. I wish Joan were here to see you. I suppose I'll have to do. Louisa being back in your life must be the icing on the cake. You're a very lucky man, Martin."
Louisa was no bloody icing. She is everything, I mentally correct her. And as for Auntie Joan, I too wish she were here.
Her next remark is a direct rib at me, but I don't care. In her own way, Aunt Ruth means well.
"Louisa is much younger than you. Are you up to the rigours of someone many years your junior? May and December is not all it's made out to be. The body does slow down with age, as you should know."
"Aunt Ruth, Louisa and I are perfectly happy with each other." And look who's talking, you got married very late in life.
"If you say so," she shots back looking as if she didn't believe me. Ruth is all over the place today, being Auntie Joan and Aunt Ruth all in one.
"I'm glad you kept our mother's ring that Joan gave you all those years ago. She would be so happy that Louisa is finally going to wear it. Louisa was the daughter she never had. Martin, you made a good choice and I'm proud of you. " She leans over and uncharacteristically, kisses me on my cheek.
And on and on she goes. After Joan's death, she had taken it upon herself to keep an eye on Louisa and James. She spoke with them regularly and sent cheques for birthdays and Christmas. Ruth loved James, found him quite endearing, she said. He loved her back as she reserved her soft side for him. When she discovered that he wanted to be a doctor, she had been very helpful. In fact, she had been pivotal in getting him to agree to come to me in London.
Looking at Ruth, soldiering on despite her advanced age, I can see that marriage had softened her up. Dennis is a good man who matches her wit for wit in his own way. She's fond of saying that his job is to decide who gets prosecuted and she gets to meet them when he's done.
I was brought back to the present with a knock on the door by Gary signaling that it was time for me to get dressed. Caroline has it down to the last detail, I groan.
I put on the suit Louisa had requested I wear. My tailor had made me a new suit in Louisa's favourite colour - navy blue. She said it was the colour I had on when she met me at Chris. Dressed in my navy suit with a blue shirt and yellow tie. I proceed downstairs to meet with our guests.
Pauline meets me at the foot of the stairs with an excited scream and begins her usual jumping from one topic to another. I can scarcely keep up with her and just as well.
"Oh Doc, you look so handsome, so happy, so distinguished. You and Louisa are going to be very happy. I just know it. "
Although Pauline was a certified nurse and a successful business woman, I could see that she was still at heart the irrepressible receptionist I remember from my Portwenn surgery.
"I love, love, love your house. You're still the last of the big time spenders, I see."
No point in correcting her that the house is no longer mine, but mine and Louisa's.
Seeing that other guests are coming in, she pulls me into the study.
"Doc, we have had our ups and downs and I'm sorry about that letter."
I stop her. "Here's your letter. I wanted to hand it to you the next time I saw you." I take it from my pocket and put it in her hand.
Recovering quickly, she says, "You kept it all these years? You're something else. All's forgiven, Doc."
"Thanks," is all I get in before she rattles on.
"Now, back to what I was saying. You're the best doctor I have ever known. Louisa was always the one for you and I'm glad you're finally together again. Promise me you won't bolt before she comes."
"Pauline!"
"I know, I know. You're a big time consultant, but please promise me you two will stay together come what may. No running away again."
I nod wearily. "Pauline, this is it. I'm not going anywhere, and certainly not without Louisa."
Having given her my solemn word, I move on.
Downstairs looks lovely. Gary and Caroline have done a superb job. It will make Louisa happy. Gary's special creations are everywhere. I see why Louisa was so taken with them. They pull you in. You want to come closer and try to guess what each piece in the composition is, as I was doing.
Lunch is our wedding gift from Zee and Marissa. There's no sign of tables and chairs, I suppose they are somewhere outside. I trust that Caroline and Gary have taken care of the details as I don't want a repeat of the catering fiasco of my first attempt at marriage.
Neither Caroline nor Gary will allow me outside. "It's a surprise," they insist.
So here I am, feeling like a prisoner when Mrs. Green comes over to me. "You look happy, Mr. Ellingham."
"Humm," I mutter.
"I have good news for you. I managed to reschedule or cancel your appointments for next week."
I cannot believe my ears as a mental picture of my calendar flashes in front of me: meeting with the University Council; lunch with Mr. Akio, a brilliant vascular surgeon visiting from Japan; Practicals with final year registrars ...
I lower my voice deliberately and sort of scream at her. "There's nothing good about that, Mrs. Green. I had some very important commitments for next week."
"Well, they can wait," she says cheerfully. "Everybody was very understanding. As you know, you have a reputation for being a confirmed bachelor, married to your work. We are all happy for you."
I seriously suspect that Mrs. Green is suffering from a mild form of dementia. What she's telling me makes no sense. My personal life has nothing to do with my professional life.
She continues. "In case you didn't know, that's what people who have just been married do. They take time off, they go on a honeymoon, they spend time with their bride."
I know she means well, and I had sworn that nothing would upset me on Louisa's day. "Thank you Mrs. Green."
She smiles and I almost choke trying to return her smile.
Caroline walks over to me. "It won't be long now before Louisa arrives."
I see Chris walking towards me with a smile. I'm glad he's by my side, once again. I close my eyes and take deep breaths. The room is a quiet murmur of voices and I feel all eyes on me as I stand erect by the window. I open my eyes to see Chris standing before me.
"It's 10:55 AM," he says, "time for us to go outside."