Chapter 4
Career
Two tiring days later, Edith is driving Charmaine's Range Rover to her meetings at Imperial Hospital in London. She decided not to press her luck by asking for the Bristol and is resigned to the slow pace of the lumbering vehicle. Worse than the lack of speed, the car smells unpleasantly of horses, dogs and children. At least she is away from the chaotic family life which has enveloped Nick.
His cousins have been quite kind to him, and Uncle Arthur has the lot of them pulling veges from his organic gardens. Simon's daughter, Judith, plans to read psychology at university and seems eager to chat with Nick. By the time Edith returns tomorrow, the girl will likely have a list of problems he is suffering from the divorce. Edith cringes at the thought. She has been receiving far too many parenting suggestions.
Yesterday at breakfast, Charmaine and her mother were appalled to learn that Nick was off to boarding school in September.
"He's only seven years old, Edith, that will never do," said her mother.
"If you'll be too busy at hospital, he could remain here and attend the village school. The children are doing quite well there. It's perfectly respectable and has excellent teachers," Charmaine added.
And then that bloody Patrick phoned to make certain Nick had arrived safely. Mum had a long chat with him and then allowed Nicholas a talk with his father. No, this was not their agreement. Nick is to be weaned from Patrick, but now her mother has told him to phone when he pleases. Surely Charmaine is to blame for turning her mother into a meddlesome woman. Must she tell her own mother to stay out of her business!
The last few days she helped move her parents to the completed wing of the house so that work may be finished in their rooms. Edith is irritated that David undertook the renovations with her father so ill. She questioned him, and in his typical fashion, he responded: "If not now, when?" Charmaine, of course, intervened. "If we're to live here, the house needed work to be done. It had gotten quite derelict. We planned it so that your parents would not be inconvenienced. They have done very well with it all."
Not wishing to become embroiled further in family matters, Edith said nothing more. Her mother was thrilled that her old family home was being refurbished and that David had brought horses back to Larchmont Hall. The last two had died a few years ago, and she missed them. Trained as an equine veterinarian in Scotland when women were not given spots in English schools, Rose Wallingford Montgomery had a full on veterinary surgery at Larchmont Hall for nearly 40 years.
An interesting family legend explained how Rose secured her place at the University of Edinburg. A servant girl at Larchmont Hall had a sister who was maid to a lady-in-waiting for the Queen Mother. The same maid was the source of a persistent rumour that Queen Elizabeth and her sister, Princess Margaret, were conceived through artificial insemination performed in a small Hertfordshire village by the local GP.
Edith's Grandfather Wallingford had been a gynaecologist in London before marrying grandmother and moving to her family home at Larchmont Hall. At a time when rural women rarely saw doctors, he set up a general practise, rather than one specializing in women's health.
For years reporters would appear in the many Hertfordshire villages searching for someone to confirm the story of the royal conception. Dr. Wallingford had the unofficial duty of denying the rumour. Supposedly, it was this service to the Queen Mother that had Rose admitted to vet school. Grandmother often hinted that Grandfather Wallingford had performed a much different service to the Queen Mum which was the actual reason for her kindness to Rose.
When Edith brought Martin Ellingham to Larchmont Hall, Mum regaled him with the family story. Ellingham explained beyond the point of boredom why the procedure was not possible in humans during the era in which the two royals would have been conceived. Of course, Edith knew he was wrong, but the weekend had been so fractious she wanted no more arguments with him.
Her intent in bringing Ellingham to Larchmont was only to flee London and relax after their brutal final exams at St. Mary's. Instead, Ellingham had produced a ring and asked her to marry him. Edith was so taken aback that she blurted the first thing that came to mind: "Martin, don't put me on the spot like this." For the rest of the weekend, they quarreled about what he called "their future." Edith repeatedly reminded him that she was soon leaving for Canada, and that he would not be part of "her future."
They stayed in touch her first year in Montreal, but Ellingham refused to see her when she returned to Larchmont that summer. Last she heard, he was managing a team of senior registrars at St. John's and was the heir apparent to his old tutor, Robert Southwood, at Imperial. Edith shivers with pleasure as she remembers her somewhat dodgy affair with Robert during her first year at St. Mary's. Perhaps she'll look in on him today. She saw Robert a number of times in Quebec, and he occasionally phoned her during visits to the States. But she always resisted the strong temptation he presented because of Patrick. Well now, Patrick is gone.
Approaching Imperial, Edith is caught up in the traffic near Parliament and sneers at the ill-dressed tourists who dare step in front of the Rover. Simon told her of a car park on a side street, and she slows the car to find it. A driver sounds a horn to hurry her, and Edith rewards him with a two finger salute. Ah, here it is.
As the attendant takes the key, Edith reaches for her leather briefcase and a pair of black Christian Louboutin pumps. She'll put them on when she arrives at Imperial. There is no possible way she could hobble there in the tall heels with their signature red soles. She is wearing a dark blue suit, with the skirt falling demurely below the knee, a white silk blouse, her St. Paul's pearls and Mabe pearl earrings. She looks professional, successful and feels quite confident.
The first thing she notices is that the hospital is teeming with medical students. St. Mary's and several others schools have merged into one large medical school at Imperial and students roam the corridors. Walking toward a lift, a student holds the door for her saying: "Take your time, ma'am," as if she's a pensioner. Edith nods curtly saying, "9th floor."
"Off to gynae, are you," the student chirps.
"Yes."
"Me, too."
"Hmmh."
"Having a procedure are we?"
"We are not having a procedure. We perform procedures."
"You're a doctor, then?"
"Right."
"Gynae?"
"Reproductive endocrinology."
"Big money I hear. Maybe I should specialise in that instead of obstetrics."
Edith gives the student an appraising glance: "Stay with obstetrics. You seem suited to a banal sort of work."
Ignoring Edith's snide comment, the young women gushes: "I love your shoes."
"Of course you do" is her dismissive response. Does nothing stop the boldness of this girl? What has happened to medical students in England? No student in New York would dare talk to Edith in this way. Of course, no one here knows who she is – at the moment.
Walking down the corridor to Walter's office, Edith notices heads turning as she clicks by with the red soles of her shoes flashing. Bemused, she looks over her shoulder and glares at several nurses who are staring after her. Good. Let the gossip begin!
Walter's secretary smiles politely as Edith enters saying: "Oh, Dr. Montgomery, I will let Mr. Zeffren know you're here. Shall I bring you a cup of tea?"
"Yes, plain with a slice of lemon."
"Sorry, I don't believe we have lemons."
"Find one."
As the bewildered secretary looks about, Walter appears and ushers Edith into his office. "Edith, may we bring you something?"
"Your girl is looking for a lemon." Turning toward the secretary, Edith repeats, "Tea, lemon, yes?" and takes Walter's hand.
The only interruption during the next two hours occurs ten minutes into their conversation when Walter's secretary enters bearing a cup of tea with a wedge of lemon. As she hands it to Edith, her hand shakes slightly, and Edith exclaims: "Mind, it's hot!"
Sufficiently cowled by Edith, Marion asks: "Shall I bring you anything, Mr. Zeffren?"
"No, Dr. Montgomery and I will be meeting colleagues for lunch at one. People are overjoyed, Edith, overjoyed to meet you."
With the needlessly-long catch up finished, Edith addresses her work with the Zeffren Clinical Group. She has only to complete her identity check at the General Medical Council so that she may be registered and have a licence to practise. Walter confirms that once this is finished, there will be no waiting periods. Imperial has seen to everything.
Edith and her American lawyer have reviewed the employment contract, and there are several issues. First, she expected to work in London at the clinic affiliated with Imperial Hospital for one year. Instead, Walter wants her to head the clinic in Cornwall, which has proven quite successful.
Harried London women stay several weeks at a spa near Truro where they receive acupuncture and therapeutic massages to increase their chances of conceiving during a fertilization cycle. Edith will concentrate on natural IVF to encourage the older and wealthier to use his clinic.
Whilst at McGill, Edith participated in the earliest research in maturing eggs outside the ovaries, greatly reducing the cost of fertility treatments. In Vitro Maturation will be the next phase of reproductive technology, and Walter needs Edith's knowledge. The business has gotten quite competitive, and one must have an edge. Edith is his edge.
More to the point, she can continue her research on geriatric parents over 35 and the effect of age on the health of their babies. In the last ten years, autism, schizophrenia and bipolar disorder have been linked to older parents. If there is more than an eleven year age difference between the parents, the likelihood of a health problem with their child increases considerably as Edith saw at Cornell. Her research will be quite noteworthy as it will focus on several areas of current interest in medicine.
Thinking she must, Edith spars a bit more with Walter about the post in Truro, but the opportunities there are greater than she expected. It's only for a year or so, and then she will return to Imperial and a Harley Street clinic. Edith will use her time well in Truro.
"All settled then, Walter. My son's leaving for school in September, and I can be in Truro just after that."
"I didn't know you had a child, Edith."
"Yes. Nicholas. Seven. Sensitive child. He's off to boarding school, so you'll have my undivided attention."
"I'd expect nothing less from you, Edith. We've followed your career from McGill to Cornell. Now that you've returned to England, I think you'll find we're right up there with the big boys. Or shall I say girls?"
"No, Walter, big boys will do. I'd rather be with the big boys."
After what she considers a dreary lunch with Walter, two REs from his London clinic, and a gynaecologist from Imperial, Edith appreciates more that she'll be away from London medicine. It all seems a bit staid and orthodox to her. In Truro, she'll be in charge, and Cornwall offers fertile grounds for her endeavours.
Walter leaves her after lunch as he has meetings with investors eager to make money over the grim spectre of infertility. His secretary will have completed the paperwork while they were out. Have a look at it, and they'll talk again next week. Remembering to be gracious, Edith rewards Walter with a rare thank you and somewhat genuine smile. Yes, he has done well sending her to Truro. She'll begin her literature review tomorrow. Plans will now unfold for the rest of her day and night.
Continued . . . . . .