Chapter Three

The following week, Louisa was just returning from her walk with James and settling him down for a nap, when checking her mobile, she noticed a voicemail from Martin.

"Um, Louisa, I was just wondering if you'd had any further thoughts on when you're returning to Portwenn." Pause. "Um, I hope you and James are well." Another pause. "Um, this is Martin Ellingham . . . obviously." Then the message was over.

After tapping on the phone icon, she held her thumb over Martin's name in her contacts list, contemplating whether to call him back. His voice was soft in his message, almost longing. Oh, Martin, she thought. Why couldn't he just fight for her? All she wanted was to hear him say how much he needed her - wanted her back. But his impassive nature always seemed to get the better of him.

Switching off her mobile, she placed the device down on the kitchen table. What she needed was a glass of wine; maybe some Tempranillo. Her mother usually kept a few bottles of red wine stocked somewhere.

"Maybe you could help me down at the restaurant?" her mother suggested when she came across her daughter opening and closing cupboards and cabinets.

Louisa turned to face her mother. "I don't know if I'm feeling up to it, Mum."

"Lou-Lou, you need to keep busy. It won't do you any good to sit around and brood over that man of yours."

Louisa finally located a bottle of wine and dug around in a drawer for a corkscrew. "I'm not brooding, Mum. I'm thinking; about the state of my marriage - my future."

Eleanor moved to stand beside her daughter, who was struggling to open the bottle of wine. "And this won't fix anything either." She took hold of the bottle.

"I just fancy a glass."

"But, Lou-Lou you need to make a decision soon. You can't keep running off with your little boy every time you and Martin have a disagreement."

Louisa grabbed a wine glass from an overhead cupboard and plunked it down on the countertop with unnecessary force. "I know, Mum!"

Eleanor stepped back at her daughter's outburst. "Okay. I'll let you be. I'm just heading out. You know where to find me."

Louisa nodded, focusing her attention on pouring her glass of wine. When her mother finally left for the afternoon, Louisa sat down by the collapsible cot where James was sleeping in her bedroom. Her little boy looked so peaceful and content curled up under his blanket with his toy purple dinosaur clutched in one hand. Of all the things she disagreed on with her mother, she was right when she said that Louisa couldn't keep running away with James when things with Martin were tough. She made a lifelong commitment to him, and having James strengthened that bond.

"Oh, James," Louisa said softly to her son. "I do love your daddy - very much. He just, I don't know, makes me so angry sometimes. He doesn't quite fit in with the crowd of Portwenn, does he? I know he longs to be in London again, but he chose to stay in Portwenn because of you and me. I thought we could finally settle our differences once we were married, but everything's just a mess." She shook her head and let out a sigh. "Maybe someday, when you're older, James, this'll all just be a story we can retell to show you how stubborn your parents can be." She leaned over and lightly traced the rim of his small ear. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me, James Henry. You, and having the chance to be with your father has given me a purpose in life. And I don't think I'm ready to throw it all away." Pulling his blanket up to his chin, Louisa leaned down into the cot to kiss her son's forehead. "Sleep well, sweetheart," she whispered to him.

Wandering back out to the kitchen with her still full glass of wine, Louisa eyed her mobile phone. She should really call Martin back. I mean, after all, he did contact her. She tapped his name and waited for the connection to go through. The line on the other end rang a few times before it was finally picked up. She heard Martin's voice but it was breaking up.

"Martin? Martin?" she said, but couldn't hear a clear response. Then the call abruptly ended. "Bugger!" she mumbled under her breath. The reception here was rubbish. Maybe later she'd try the payphone she saw down by the bus stop. She sent a text message to Martin saying she'd call him from a payphone at 4:30 UK time.

Stepping out on the balcony, her gaze immediately went to the picturesque castle situated on the hill. It was a lovely view, though she did wish she was on the coast. She loved the harbour and its sparkling blue water in the summer. And when it stormed, the crash of the waves against the rocky cliffs was soothing to her ears. She missed home - Portwenn. She missed the school and the kids; her friends and the village shopkeepers she came to know so well. She even missed Martin's Aunt Ruth. Though she could be a bit critical and frank at times, she was very resourceful and full of knowledge.

Taking a sip from her glass of wine, she thought of their home on Roscarrock Hill - their own little castle on the hill, so to speak. She thought she was making the right decision when she had decided to move in with Martin after James was born. Then his decision to move back to London changed all that. But it took Mrs. Tishell having a psychotic break to get Martin to realise how important she and James were to him.

. . .

At 5:30 down at the payphone, Louisa dialed Martin's mobile number. It rang continuously until the greeting came on, signaling her to leave a message. She placed the phone back in its cradle. Why didn't he pick up? she wondered. She messaged him earlier saying she was going to call. Was he too busy? Did he not want to talk to her anymore? Oh, why must communication be so difficult between them?! Letting out a tired sigh, Louisa turned and started her trek back to the house.

Her mother was in the kitchen when she returned. Louisa could smell the spices of one of her mother's recipes. It smelled divine and she was hungry.

"No luck?" her mother asked, turning away from the cooker.

Louisa shook her head. "I don't understand, Mum. I texted him saying I was going to call but he never picked up."

"Maybe he was busy. You know how doctors can be, Lou-Lou. He was probably just called out on an emergency or something."

Louisa sighed. "Yeah, I suppose so."

Eleanor looked at her daughter in sympathy. She couldn't bear to see her so unhappy and exhausted. "Maybe you're just not meant to be with each other, Lou-Lou."

Louisa looked away from her mother. "I have to feed James his dinner . . ." She excused herself towards her bedroom. James was sitting up in his cot in a sort of makeshift playpen. He was chewing on the ear of a stuffed animal when she reached down to scoop him up. "How's my little boy, hmm?" she cooed, kissing his forehead. James reached out and grabbed at Louisa's ponytail. She shifted him in her arms, preventing him from latching on to her hair. "C'mon, James. Let's see what grandma has for your dinner."

After dinner and when James was bathed and put to bed, Louisa relaxed on the sofa next to her mother. "Mum, did you ever love Dad? Or was your heart always with Javier?" she asked.

Eleanor turned towards her daughter, completely caught off guard by her question. "What? Where did that come from?"

Louisa shrugged. "I don't know. I've just been thinking about Dad recently and I just wondered."

Eleanor sighed. "Lou-Lou, your dad, well, he and I . . . It was sort of a spur of the moment relationship. I suppose I loved him at one point and then you came along and there just wasn't enough money to get by anymore. I hated having to deal with your father's gambling debts and when I met Javier, he took me away from it all." She reached over and took Louisa's hand. "I am sorry, Lou-Lou, for walking out on you - for leaving you."

Louisa took in a deep breath. "I think I can forgive you, but I'll never forget those times when I wished you were still there."

"I'm sorry, Lou-Lou. I really am."

"I know, Mum." Louisa glanced in the direction of her bedroom where James was fast asleep. "I just don't want James to have to go through the same thing that I did. I want to make my marriage with Martin work, but he keeps shutting me out. He doesn't talk to me about his troubles. He keeps everything inside, and I know he wants to express himself, but there's just something that's holding him back."

"Maybe it's you that he needs."

Louisa let out an exasperated breath. "I try to get him to open up with me, but he won't. I just think that James and I are too much of a burden in his life."

Eleanor shook her head. "That's nonsense! Despite his rudeness, I've seen the way he looks at you. Just give him another chance, Lou-Lou."

"I don't know, Mum. I want to go back, but what if we can't fix our problems? Then what?"

"That's marriage, sweetheart. There will always be problems and disagreements. You have to have faith in each other." Eleanor stood up with her empty wine glass. "Do you want another glass?"

Louisa shook her head. "No thanks, Mum. I think I'm gonna sit outside for a bit."

"Suit yourself."

Taking a seat at the little wrought iron table out on the balcony, Louisa was amazed by the beautiful sunset. The dark orange and yellow hues of the sun was the perfect backdrop for the castle on the hill. She remembered standing up there with James. You could see across the whole village, like their cottage on Roscarrock Hill. Except the only things missing was the beautiful harbour, the Cornish accents, and the constant smell of trimethylamine down by the Platt. She missed her home, but most importantly, she missed Martin.

When she married Martin, Louisa didn't expect their marriage to be perfect or idyllic. They had each other and their son, and she was content. But could she really leave Martin behind and live like this? Like her mother said, she had to have faith that they could work things out and be together. James deserved to have both of his parents.

The sun continued its descent below the horizon. The castle was now bathed behind in a deep orange, with the darkness settling in from above. Her thumb and forefinger found her wedding band, and she absently twisted it around her finger. It was time to go home. There was no denying it. Thoughts of Portwenn never left her mind. She was finally feeling that urge to return home - back to her own castle on Roscarrock Hill. And of course, back home to Martin.