Chapter 15

Enlightenment

The next day Edith was in a bit of a fog following Ellingham's phone call and the question Dad posed. She knew the unfortunate answer. Martin did not love her.

What was fortunate, and a welcome distraction, was the arrival of even more participants for the gymkhana. The lot were teenagers from clubs near London and were quite pleased with themselves. At one point she questioned why she felt it necessary to pursue a career helping people procreate. It seemed there were more than enough children swarming through the fields of Larchmont Hall.

Adding to the chaos, one section had been overtaken by merchants who had set up a market offering everything from flowers and early vegetables to bits and pieces of tosh, hopefully labeled as antiques. After being caught up in a much-too-loud argument between two rival pony clubs, Edith made her way to the relative quiet of the market. Her sister-in-law, Helen, was fluttering about her tea tent, where Edith took refuge with a pot of fortifying South African Rooibos tea.

Business was a bit slow at the moment, and Helen tried to make overtures to Edith. It was not that she didn't like the woman, it was just that Edith had nothing in common with her. After marrying her brother, Simon, they had gone off to London where Helen had studied cookery. Now back in Larchmont, she had taken over her mum's tea shop, but with aspirations for more. Edith humoured her as she chattered on about fondants, custards, tarts and chutneys, and then she slyly turned the conversation to Martin.

Must the entire family, down to the in-laws, discuss her personal business? Thinking to respond politely, Edith found herself crying over Martin to a sympathetic Helen. More surprised than embarrassed by her outpouring, she finished her tea and accepted a hug from her sister-in-law. Little wonder Mum and Ellingham favoured Helen. She was quite comforting and kind.

Taking a different route back to the races, Edith passed a number of cars and caravans with London identifiers on their registration plates. Likely the parents of the teenage brats, she thought. One caravan was open at the side, showing a display of Asian objects similar to those in Ellingham's bedsit. A woman quietly waited as Edith approached the caravan. She coolly allowed Edith to examine and pick up several statues before she said in accented English: "Are you a collector?"

"No, I've a – well – a friend who has some antiques his great grandfather brought from Hong Kong. These only reminded me of him."

"All of the statues are from Hong Kong. They are meditating Buddhas and were made at the Po Lin Monastery on Lantau Island, a sacred place. Would your friend fancy a Buddah?"

"I'm not sure. He's about to become a house officer at a hospital in London and is not all that religious. He refers to himself as a man of science."

"Well, then, have a look at this figure of Amitofu. He was a king who saw the misery of others and made a vow not to attain enlightenment until he reached the Pure Land. Only there could all be relieved of their suffering. Every type of misery can be cured by chanting his name. It would be an appropriate gift for a doctor."

"Perhaps, I should have it for myself. I'm a doctor as well."

"Do you also believe only in science?"

"I suppose I do, but one never knows for certain. My brother's to become a priest and he makes a persuasive argument the other way."

"Please consider the present for your friend. I can provide you with the English translation of the papers which accompany each of the Buddhas from Po Lin. You will find the story of Amitofu very compelling."

Edith had thought of a gift for Martin but was afraid he would read more into it than she wanted. Perhaps, he would find the Buddha statue a connection to his great-grandfather whom he recalled fondly. It might make their last dinner together more palatable.

Edith asked the woman for the price and was shocked at her response. It was quite a sum. As much as she wanted to buy the statue for Ellingham, she simply did not have the money. Edith thanked the woman who introduced herself as Lilly Wu. Walking away, the woman offered her a steep discount on the statue. The new amount was more what she could afford but was still high. Edith reluctantly thanked the woman but said she could not buy it.

Continuing on, Edith saw her brother Arthur strolling the grounds with his latest conquest, a stunning woman from London who looked quite put out at the moment. As she joined them, the woman pouted: "I'll be in the car. I've had enough of this." Arthur shook his head, saying to Edith: "Let her sulk – she'll come round – they always do. What about you? Peter said you had a row with your boyfriend, and he returned to London. What did you do to him?"

"Nothing, really. Wouldn't give up Montreal and marry him."

"Oh, good Lord, Edith. Your aren't that sort of woman." Pointing to his care, he continued: "Now Margaretha hasn't two brains and her only chance in life is marrying a rich man. If not me, she'll easily find another. You don't have to put up with someone like me to have a good life."

Surprised at her brother's compliment – even if a bit backhanded – Edith mentioned the woman selling Chinese antiques. She knew this would pique Arthur's interest as he thought himself an art collector. They walked back to the caravan, and Arthur soon spent an outrageous sum on a number of pieces. Another discount was offered by Lilly, and Edith purchased the Buddha, hoping it would please Martin. He could never be happy, but pleased was in the realm of possibility. Arthur stayed on to chat with Lilly, saying he would bring his car round to collect their purchases.

That night she saw that Arthur had deposited the statue outside her bedroom door. The story of Amitofu provided by Lilly Wu was quite fascinating and for the first time since Ellingham left, Edith felt a bit better. Martin might appreciate the Buddha for its association with his great-grandfather as well as medicine.

By Monday evening, the members of the Montgomery family remaining at Larchmont Hall were exhausted. They gathered at the kitchen table and Edith rallied to produce sandwiches, tea and the sweets remaining from Helen's tea tent. They nibbled the meager supper and pronounced the gymkhana a huge amount of work but a successful charitable undertaking.

Mum drove Edith to the train station the next morning, lecturing her about what was needed for her move to Montreal. She pressed a cheque into Edith's hand exhorting her to buy some decent clothes for her new post.

Arriving by taxi in Kennington, Edith accepted the deskman's help in carrying the Buddah and luggage to the flat. Inside, she collapsed into bed, fully-clothed, and slept until awakened by the ringing phone. Dashing into the hall, she breathlessly squeaked "hullo."

"Edith, it's Martin, Martin Ellingham. Could we have dinner at six on Thursday evening. I'll come to your flat at half five."

She was so tired, that she did not have the energy to admonish Martin for his formality with her or the early dining hour. Perhaps in Canada there was man who would dine with her after seven in the evening.

Edith followed Mum's advice and took herself shopping on Wednesday. She bought trousers, simple blouses and jerseys to wear under the starched white coats worn by residents at Royal Victoria. As a bit of fun, she went to the more expensive floor of Selfridge's to see if she could spot some of the dresses featured in "Marie Claire" magazine. Those dresses and more were found, but Edith saw no reason to buy one, even if she had the money. She would never wear it.

Noticing her thin frame, a saleswoman suggested looking at the sales rack which held mostly smaller sizes. Of course she found the perfect blue and white dotted dress with a cap sleeve and a thin white band below the bustline. Her pearls would work well in the rounded neckline, and she could wear it to dinner with Martin on Thursday night. She could not recall ever wearing a dress with him.

Punctual as usual, Martin arrived at the flat at precisely half five. Edith smiled and stretched to kiss him on the cheek. She could feel the tension in his body as he stood woodenly next to her. He had a taxi waiting, and suggested they be off. Walking through the reception, the deskman called: "You look lovely this evening Miss Montgomery." Edith thanked him and Martin said nothing. No conversation occurred in the taxi, and she chose to think it a companionable silence rather than the strained meeting of two people who had lost any sense of the intimacy they once shared.

Martin took her to a restaurant she was quite certain had been recommended by Robert Southwood. It was one of the showy American-style places favoured by the nouveau riche of London. After coaxing a limited amount of information from Martin about Chris and Michelle's wedding, Edith was too dejected to do anything but lapse into a predictable conversation about medicine.

Martin was interested in details of her residency and argued that the training at St. Mary's was much more rigourous and suitable. She quickly conceded his point, not wishing to get into it with him. Although she wanted a cheese or sweet after dinner, she settled for the coffee Martin ordered. No need to wind him up about the evils of sugar and fat.

Dinner had taken well under two hours, and Martin quickly found a taxi to the flat. Bloody hell if he called this a celebration. As soon as he dropped her, she'd be off to a club in Vauxhall, listen to music and give a proper goodbye to London. She thought of asking Martin to come along, but knew it would do nothing to soothe his sour mood. It was times like these that she wished she could drink. Wine would take the edge off the reality of being with the sullen Martin Ellingham.

When the taxi arrived at the flat, Martin reached across to open the door saying "Goodbye Edith." Her heart sank to say farewell in this way, and she asked him to send the taxi off. She had gotten a present for him and would dash to the flat to retrieve it. Martin sighed as he followed her into the building.

Entering the lift, Edith assured Martin it would take only a minute, and he could be on his way. She tried to smile and flirt a bit, but he stared stonily at her. Completely chagrined, she realized that Robert Southwood had made him take her to dinner. Ellingham could now report to his Lord and Master that he had obeyed his command.

Edith had not wrapped the Buddha, not sure how to do so, or if it was even appropriate. For the trip, she had left it in the old newsprint in which Lilly wrapped it, but discarded it earlier today. Martin stood at the door, ready to flee, as she walked to a nearby table where the Buddha and the translated papers waited.

She picked it up and held the heavy statue out to him with a smile.

"It's a representation of the Buddha Amitofu and was made at the Po Lin Monastery in Hong Kong. He was quite a compassionate Buddha and is revered by physicians. These papers tell a good bit about him. I thought it might remind you of your great-grandfather and would go well with his antiques. Thank you, Martin, for making medical school a bit more bearable. You're a dear man, and I appreciate everything you did for me."

Martin was not taking the statue, and Edith's arms began to shake as it was quite heavy: Trying to stay composed, she said: "Right, then, I'll just let it rest her for a moment. Or if you'd rather not take it. . . "

"No, no," Martin interrupted her. "It's good. Very good. Um, yes, it's good."

Continued . . . .