Comfort

Louisa was sorting through a carton she'd brought from her house. She took out a tatty tree-topper, wrapped in faded newsprint. "Gosh," she said in wonder.

Martin was finishing the washing up that evening. "What's that?"

"This… this is our old topper, from when I was a girl. Dad… my dad…" she had to stop, overcome with bittersweet memories.

Martin turned from the sink as he was drying the baking tray, the final piece of the dinner cooking tools. "Louisa?" He saw the stricken look on her face. "What's wrong?"

She turned the glass ornament in her hands. "I was about… seven I think, when my dad brought this home. It was brand new. He'd seen it in a shopfront and said he just had to… to… had to buy it." She reached for a tissue and blew her nose loudly. "Sorry, Martin… I…"

He sat down by her, not taking her hand, just sitting by her. He knew Louisa was emotional and now hormones would be affecting her more than the usual amount. He swallowed hard and told her, "Go on."

She turned teary eyes towards him. "This was the only ornament, plus a string of electric lights, oh, and some tinsel. It was a very tiny Christmas tree." She sniffed and wiped her nose with the wadded-up tissue. "Not much under it that year either," her voice trailed off, or any other, generally.

Martin, being Martin, took the used tissue from her, stood up, binned the tissue, and after washing his hands returned with a box of new ones. He silently set the box next to his wife's elbow. He'd learnt that sometimes Louisa needed to blow off the pent-up steam of her memories.

Louisa looked up, giving him a faint smile. "Thanks." She blew her nose loudly. "I'm just… oh Holidays… and dad in prison and mum…" she sighed. "Down in Spain and…" she shrugged. "Oh Martin, I…."

Getting the message, he scooted his chair closer to her then put his arm around her shoulders. He didn't say anything, just let her cry softly. After a minute or so, she lifted her head, wiped her eyes, and blew her nose.

Martin watched her performance, knowing she was getting herself together. "Tea?" he asked.

She nodded. "That would be nice."

He busied himself with the electric kettle, teapot and two mugs, giving Louisa time to recover from her 'good cry.'

Louisa felt the chair hard against her backside and back, the table under her arms, the softness and firmness of her new maternity bra against her skin, plus the silky new top she wore over it, and the warmth of the kitchen. In her handbag sitting on the desk she had a credit card, a cashpoint card and cash as well. Next to it her new mobile was charging. She peered down at her shoes which were not new but not old either. They were not worn at heel or toe and Martin had buffed them to a fine shine last weekend.

She had a car, the little blue Ford she was so proud of, parked outside next to Martin's Lexus. She had a nice warm house, a job she loved, food in the fridge and pantry, clothing to wear, the resources to buy nearly anything she needed or wanted. She cocked her head at Martin, watching her capable yet also tetchy and picky husband as he waited to brew up their tea.

Yes they had disagreements, but somehow, especially now they were married (and expecting a baby, she added) they toned it down and a lot of those things were just dumb. Like the argument they had yesterday over the washing powder. She protested over the ingredients, he had bristled, but after looking at the box himself, switched his mind around and said he'd buy a different brand next time; one that was eco-friendly.

She looked into the front room, thinking their Christmas Tree would go there, in the corner. A small one, on that table. "I'll post a package to my dad tomorrow; tell him the news." She bit her lip. She'd found warm socks to send along with new underwear and undershirts, a comb and toothbrush, a new safety razor, and a book on the history of Cornwall. She thought she should add some hard candies and chocolate bars as well. She sighed as Martin nodded.

"I'm sure he will appreciate it," he said. Can't be much fun for Terry Glasson in prison. "Do you wish to visit him?" It wasn't far. The facility was outside of Bath. Only a few hours' drive.

She shuddered. "I don't think so." She shook her head, dismissing some memories. Louisa got up, and crossed to Martin, put her arms around him, hugged him and kissed his cheek.

He raised a suspicious eyebrow.

Just saying thank you, she told him silently, with another squeeze. "I'll be in the front room," she announced.

He nodded.

She went to the desk, picked up her mobile phone, unplugged it and tapped the screen, which lit up. She scrolled down through the contacts. Ah, there. She was biting her lip, thinking what to say. "Right," she said aloud squaring her shoulders, then she tapped the 'Call' button.

The phone on the other end started to buzz. After a few moments, she heard a click and a woman's voice.

"Lo?" Louisa heard along with a hubbub of voices.

Louisa took a deep breath. "Mum?"

Eleanor Glasson said, "Lou-Lou! My little girl! How are you? Give me a 'sec, it's bloody noisy in here."

In the kitchen, Martin felt himself get very tense. He had heard a few stories about Louisa's parents, and they were much like his own horrid parentage, merely having lower monetary funds and a lot less education. He hoped she was doing to the right thing.

Louisa chewed on her lips, listening to the ambient noise until she heard a door slam, and the background got silent.

"Here, I am, Lou-Lou!" Eleanor told her. "Stepped outside the cantina. What's going on?"

Frozen for a second, Louisa slowly sank down on the sofa. "I wanted to…"

"Holiday's coming up, sure," her mum said. "Happy Christmas to you, a bit early. All that."

'All that?' Louisa's nerve faltered but talking a deep breath she told her. "Mum, there's news."

"What?"

Why was she even calling this woman? Louisa reflected. Yes, Eleanor was her mother, her mum, but the gulf of any affection had been mined out long ago. Closing her eyes she told her, "Mum, the news is… that I'm married."

"Reall? My, my. To who?"

'To whom' Louisa corrected in her head. "The village doctor, his name is Martin Ellingham."

"Huh. He good to you?"

Louisa looked over at Martin. "He is, and we're living in the surgery cottage. Doc Sim's old place. It's just on the hill opposite the harbor. I'll send you the address."

"Well… that is news. Congrats, my girl."

Louisa listened to the silence. "I… I'm sending a package to dad tomorrow."

"That old bugger. Serve's him right to be a guest of Her Majesty," Eleanor spit out in anger.
"Serve's him right, I say. Shoulda been in the clink a long time ago! Anything else?"

Her hand brushed against her waist where there was now a definite small bulge to her tummy below her belly button. "Yes, mum. I'm having a baby as well."

"Really? Oh that's lovely. Gonna give me a grandbaby? Now you make me feel old. Me a grandma." She laughed. "At last."

Trust mum to make it about herself. "Baby's due mid-July," Louisa added.

"You must be, only a couple months along then."

"Yeah. Couple of months." Her hand stroked her tiny bump. "Maybe you can come for a visit in the summer?"

Eleanor coughed. "Summer? Have to see. That's when we get real busy here; tourist season. I bought into a B and B up near Benahavís, up the valley from the beach. So, I'll have to see."

Louisa bit her lip. "Ah." She looked at Martin who was giving her a concerned look. He'd clearly heard one side of the conversation. "Well, let's see then?"

"Right. Thanks for calling Lou-Lou. Quite the news. You doing okay? Pregnant and married, what a lot of news this is!"

Louisa winced. Pregnant and married and in that order. "I'm fine. Thanks for asking. Well, mum, good night."

"'Night then, Lou-Lou. Bye."

Louisa heard the connection click off. She lowered the mobile from her ear, switched it off and then returned it to charge. "That was my mum," she told Martin as she went into the kitchen.

"Yes. I heard."

Louisa looked around the room, the home she was making with Martin. So different from what she had grown up in. She took his hand and tugged it. "Come on."

He raised his eyebrows. "To?"

She cocked her head towards the stairs. She needed Martin.

He looked at his watch. It had just gone nine. "I just made tea."

Louisa shook her head side to side. She pulled him into a close hug and began to kiss him urgently and with great need.

Later she lay with him wrapped up by her arms and legs, his sleeping lips pressed against her neck. She kissed his brow. "Love you, Martin." He murmured something unintelligible in return. She brushed his tousled hair back, then lay for some time in the dark, feeling very thankful, comforted by the cottage around her and of his warm and bare body.

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