Chapter 2
Louisa's Tale
For years, we had a platonic relationship until that first date. I remember our first kiss in the taxi. It was phenomenal and our relationship could have developed further if he had not uttered those words, 'I assume you do have a dental hygiene regiment'. Martin can kiss like nothing I have ever experienced. His generous full lips engulf my mouth with yearning and desire, as if he focuses all his emotions on this one moment in time. It is like making love every time our lips meet. Since my return from London, six months pregnant, Martin is the man that every woman dreams of as a partner, husband; I am gratified I gave him that chance upon my return. When I saw that woman, Edith, sitting so contently at his kitchen table, I almost turned around, out the door and down the hill. It was at that moment that I realized I was jealous. When Martin spoke, it interrupted that feeling of abandonment and my tendency to run away. I will be forever grateful for his stumbling medical request for us to go to his consulting room. I never felt I made a mistake in marrying Martin; all he has to do is look at me with that look of desire in his eyes, now that I understand those eyes much better provokes desire in both of us. For the first time, I feel secure and happy with my life.
I admit Martin is not a social butterfly, but he needs to break out and socialize sometimes. I am happy with my now bi-weekly girl's night out. It was good when I did it weekly before the school term started, but I would rather stay home with my two men. My friends are not always so friendly towards Martin; they joke at his expense or are upset because he is rude to them or a relative during a medical appointment. I listen, but rarely interject other than to say Martin is the doctor, I am not. There was one time when Erica mentioned the 'Doc' yelling at her mother for not following her diet and ended up with diabetic ketoacidosis. My mother came in feeling ill and the 'Doc' asked her if she was following the diet he put her on. When she told him she celebrated the day before with food and drink, he told her she could never have it again. He exploded and called her an idiot. This time I had to stand up for Martin,
"The 'Doc' as you call him, knows his medicine and if he said these things would cause your mom to be ill, and then he had every right to raise his voice. He doesn't provide his patients with information for his enjoyment; he provides the best information for his patients because he cares for their health. Martin can be overbearing in his surgery. It is because he cares, and he gets upset when his patients ignore his advice."
There were a few shocked faces staring at me. Erica had the gull to tell me off. This is probably the real reason I now go out only bi-weekly.
XxXxXx
The one question that has me arguing with myself is what to do when the new school term starts. I haven't thought about my job since Phillip was born. If I was asked before his birth, I would have said I could do both, 'be a working mom and still have time for my baby in the evening'. Now I know better. If I didn't have Martin's help every day and night, I know I would have failed Phillip. Martin is there first when Phillip wakes, changing his nappy, getting him dressed, bathing him, fixing all of our amazing healthy meals and even taking the mid-night feeding just, so I could rest and recover from the pregnancy to giving birth. Martin is always there and that is just another reason I love him. A few days after our wedding, Martin asked me to extend my maternity leave to the following year...of course I declined. He then suggested mid-term in the autumn, again I said no. I needed to feel secure if only, for some odd reason, Martin decided, like everyone else in my life, to leave me; I needed to be independent financially. Phillip and I would be fine; alone without help, the way I grew up. To my surprise, a week later, Martin sat us down over tea to discuss childcare for Phillip. I just wanted to find someone from the village if we couldn't get Joan to do it full time, but Martin was adamant that he wanted a trained childcare provider in our house each day we were at work in the village. Martin had researched a nanny service and at those words I rolled my eyes at him; I did not like the word 'Nanny', it meant money. However, looking over the brochure on the website quickly changed my mind, it didn't sound like those London Nanny Services. Most of their employees were from our area of Cornwall and if we could employ a Cornish person to care for our son, the better. The following week, we received our list with appointed times for interviews. Our second interview made me smile, but Martin didn't seem to notice the girl. I felt so proud of Poppy. She had worked hard to find training and maybe now a good paying job in the village where she was raised. After a few embarrassing moments with Martin, we hired our son's nanny and it worked out very well. Poppy and Phillip visit me every lunch hour so I can nurse him and have a few hugs and I haven't missed not being with Phillip as much.
XxXxXx
A week after our wedding was my birthday; I turned 38, not a bad age for a married woman with one child. However, the age, if I want to have more children can become a problem. Phillip was just short of two months old, too early for me to consider working on another child. Maybe later this spring, I'll start the conversation with Martin, slowly. A few days prior to my birthday, Martin announced he was taking me out on the town for my birthday. My thoughts, 'what is Martin's idea of a night in the town? Phillip is too young to leave for more than a short overnight, London is too far away.' Joan volunteered to spend the evening with Phillip at the house.
I woke the morning of my birthday to my men conversing in the nursery; Martin asking Phillip to keep his feet still and Phillip cooing loudly to his father's attention. Downstairs in the kitchen at the table, I received only a kiss on my cheek and birthday greetings from Martin. I felt letdown; I at least expected the 'Old Hag' card from him.
It was difficult to wait all day for school to end. I felt like a child waiting for the last school bell to ring, so I could run home to the surprise waiting for me; so many times in my childhood, there wasn't a birthday surprise, there was only disappointment of the forgotten promise. Finally, after the excruciating long day ended, I rushed home. I can't wait to change for the special surprise Martin chose. I quickly showered and changed into a pre-pregnant cream with flowers dress, looked at myself in the mirror, realizing with Martin's optimal nourishment and my exercise video I had lost those extra kilos, so I fit nicely in the dress with a fuller bust line.
I can hear Joan's voice as I come downstairs; they are in the kitchen warming Phillips bottle. Joan hands me two jars of her homemade canning, a jar of boysenberry preserves and one of pickled beets for my presents. Then Martin handed me a present and said it was from Phillip. What a surprise, I wonder if Joan had anything to do with the gift. I opened a beautifully wrapped box of my favorite perfume; if Martin purchased it, I could see him blushing the entire time. I wonder if Martin remembered, eleven months ago, this same perfume caused us to end our short-lived relationship when he said I smelled of urine. When he was 'wooing' me five months ago, he explained pheromones, love and his inability to express his feelings to me and I melted at his explanation. 'He said if he was in a room full of other women, blindfolded, he could find me by walking around the room inhaling the scents and pheromones that I gave off, as they were as unique as I was.' Martin surprises me with a long white box tied with a bright red bow. He is standing like a man going to the gallows, his fingers twitching at his sides; he is nervous. I sat down with the box across my lap. He stammers and blushes as I go about pulling the lid off, inside is a bouquet of beautiful flowers. I am overwhelmed by their beauty and silently tears roll down my cheeks. I once said Martin was not the heart and flowers type but twice now, in less than two months he has chosen the loveliest bouquets of flowers. I scared Martin a bit with my tears; he was never any good with a crying woman. He jumps to my rescue, afraid he has done something wrong and I quickly reassure him all is fine and I love his choice of flowers; he hands me his clean handkerchief to dry my tears. He explains what each bloom means and why he selected them just for me. I am wiping the last of my tears away when I notice the card lying near the bottom of the box. There is my 'old hag' card that he likes to give to the women in his life, but to my surprise, his choice is a single red rose embossed card and the beautiful poem he wrote. I can remember his blushing ears as I read the poem handwritten in his fine penmanship, and he signed it with little XOXO's above his Martin. He is truly my heart and flowers man today. I reached over to pull him toward me, pressing a long, passionate kiss onto his lips. I noticed Joan ignoring us as she busied herself with Phillip. Now a stammering Martin announces we have a reservation at the St. Tudy Tavern in Camelford.
On the drive out, we were quiet; well I was quiet, so I decided to rub Martin's leg, sometimes a bit too high just to see if I could stroke a conversation out of him. He finally took my hand and gently squeezed it; his nonverbal conversation, but I was satisfied with his answer. During dinner, discreetly under the table covering I stroked his thigh again, and he surprised me a bit with his own touchy feeling. We had a lovely dinner and an exquisite evening. I found out after dinner we were staying the night. A wonderful night without any interruptions with the man I love.
XxXxXx
My new life as a mother is gratifying, but even better, sharing parenthood with Martin; he's a great father since day one. Joan is proud of him, even more so than I am. Phillip is my pride and joy, but don't all mothers feel that way; well, maybe not all mothers since Martin and I had the worst. Phillip seems to change every day and I believe it is the interaction between Martin and myself with Phillip. I like to use the teacher approach, or should I say the normal approach with my interaction with Phillip. I sing and play nursery rhymes, while Martin looks at me with confusion because he feels the rhymes are rubbish. Phillip enjoys everything that makes me touch, tickle and play with his feet in any way to make him giggle during our time together. Phillip also loves his time with Martin; he treats Phillip like a small adult in his conversations with him, again with his playtime. Martin is serious as he rolls a ball to Phillip, making sure it is within his reach and not too hard to hurt Phillip, and he always ensures the area around Phillip is well padded, so when he does tumble over he is not injured. He reads to Phillip all the time. I came downstairs one morning, hearing Martin's special voice he uses with Phillip explaining a medical procedure that they were watching on his laptop. The child is less than six months old, excitingly watching the video with his father; it was funny how serious Martin was explaining the medical issue the surgery entailed.
We and his stand-in grandmother, Joan, love Phillip; he will never feel abandoned. What a difference for me to have the support Martin provides us, his family. When we perceive something differently when it comes to Phillip, Martin will get very quiet, look at me with his 'puppy' eyes and say, 'it is my duty to my son, my family'. Doctor Hayes would be proud of Martin's achievements over the past year, rising above his childhood issues.
Doctor Hayes continues to help Martin out quite a bit and to him I am thankful. That thought makes me think, how am I contributing to the marriage? What can I do better? Martin went through therapy for us — to get here — to get us here — together. We need to be able to talk to one another about everything — no holding back. If something bothers us, we need to speak up. I will call Doctor Hayes for a referral to a therapist; I am having the urge, the tendency to run away again — a habit I can thank my mum for and maybe my father too.
XxXxXx
Joan joins us for dinner once a week and we visit her on Sunday. She spends her time with Phillip after her morning delivery and, as usual, spoils him. She insists on babysitting Phillip once a month for our date night, something Martin enjoys, to be alone, just us, usually away from the village for a few hours. My Martin, a very different person than he shows the village, indulging me whenever, and whatever I want; I feel so cherished. Joan is a mother to both of us. It is sad as ours couldn't be bothered. Life is hard sometimes when the person that would be the wise choice for motherhood is unable, while those that do — should not. I take Joan into my confidence when I have no idea what to do or say to Martin when he acts the way he sometimes does. I thought at first she would be on Martins' side with every disagreement, but she sided with me some times but always helps us to work through the trouble. Lately, I have needed her help and her quiet reserve of knowledge is beneficial. However, I should have talked to her earlier about my current problem.
XxXxXx
I can't understand the slow change this past month in Martin. The change is only towards me, he is shutting me out. He is the same towards Phillip; actually, he seems to put in more effort with his time, the time he always gave me. I can feel Martin's abandonment towards me; my marriage is falling apart. My first instinct is to run away, take Phillip and leave.
At this unfortunate time, the Governors have requested that I attend the CE course for school headships late this spring; it would provide information on grants from the British government, and the EU Education Council. Stu McKenzie wanted more information on the EU STEM Education implementation and how it would affect Portwenn Primary, but more importantly, what grants came with the program. I have no choice. I have to go to London for a few weeks. What to do with Phillip? He is too young to take to London, even with Poppy minding him all the time. Housing me with Holly won't be a problem, but add Phillip and Poppy, no way that will work. Stu mentioned a short-term residence accommodation but I would need to pay for that out of my own pocket. What should I do? Would Martin let me take Phillip away? When do I break this news to Martin? How will I survive if I go to London on my own and Phillip stays with Martin for those weeks? There are so many questions and I have no answers. Maybe this time away from Martin will give us time to step back and look at our marriage. It is beyond me why fate is so determined to interfere with my life with Martin. A cruel joke about an unknown power is always between us; this time it is called Danny.
Danny Steele, my former boyfriend, first lover and now the problem intending to mess with my marriage, returned to Portwenn. The first time he abandoned me, we were at university in London. It took him less than a month for his popularity to go to his head and I, the Cornish country girl, wasn't good enough to be his girlfriend any longer. At first, I struggled with his decision; it made me mature a bit quicker. My second abandonment: he came back to the village to care for his mum; actually, he wanted to place her in a retirement home and be done with her. Everyone in the village thought Danny loved his mum, but I knew different. Danny wanted to be his own man and mum wouldn't let him; she continually interfered with his private life. He didn't know I came back to the village to teach and become the Head-teacher until we ran into each other. I didn't have a relationship with Martin and thought, what the hell; if Danny was staying to fix up his mum's place and work here in Cornwall, we could have a life together. Until that phone call, the next big job in London ended it for me; abandonment again from Danny; why can't I learn?
Danny reappeared in December, out of the blue, showing up in the pub. He wanted to start up again with our relationship; I guess he didn't notice the ring on my left ring finger announcing 'married woman', or the looks from my friends at the table that should have provided him with another indication he was barking up the wrong tree. He insisted on walking me home that night, but, thankfully, Morweena and Al were sitting at the bar and overheard his request as we walked by. Morweena came running up to us just outside the door, reminding me that she desperately needed to talk tonight as I promised. She smiled a cheeky grin at me. I didn't see Danny again; luck had him busy in Truro until mid-January.
I found out from my friends that Danny asked plenty of questions regarding my marriage. Every friend he asked told him I was happy; even the few that didn't like Martin and felt I really wasn't as happy as I always said. The gossip-vine filled Danny in on our short engagement, non-wedding, my disappearance to London and my pregnant return. Some even told him they thought I had met up with him in London, got pregnant and left after a row. Many of them were surprised that the 'Doc' invited me to stay with him during the pregnancy. After the birth of Phillip, he bought a house for the three of us to live in. Some said he bought a big house, so we could continue with separate bedrooms; many villagers still believe this is true. All were surprised just before school started and the announcement of our marriage became known at the open house, as I introduced myself as Mrs. Ellingham.
The past three months have been a living hell, as I wait for the shoe to fall when Martin hears about Danny's return. My fear, how will Martin react to Danny returning, and as I see, trying to put a claim on me. Martin usually doesn't pay attention to the gossip and Morweena doesn't allow discussion of Danny in the surgery reception. My pray is I can get rid of Danny before Martin finds out.
I feel terrible getting Poppy involved with this deception; Danny showed up unannounced one day at school. Poppy and I were in my office. I had just finished feeding Phillip, enjoying a bit of downtime from writing up a grant request and snuggling with Phillip when suddenly there was a quick knock and the door opened. Standing in the opened doorway is Danny. A few minutes earlier, he would have found me partially dressed with my son suckling on my breast. I am angry and decided to stop being nice; Louisa Glasson Ellingham is telling this unwanted arse off. I left Danny in my office as I walked Poppy and my son down the hall, just before she left the building; I asked for her assurance not to repeat what happened in my office to go any further. Her scared large eyes told me I made her uncomfortable, but she agreed. I spent the next hour, with my office door wide open for all to hear but especially see, as I tried to explain my position to Danny; however, he couldn't see why I would want to be married to Martin. He believed every piece of gossip and the rumors that the village provided him. He loved me, and he was here to rescue me from this unwarranted marriage. This was the hardest hour of my life; I sat down and systematically, item by item, explained that his thoughts about my marriage were wrong and that Phillip was indeed the biological son of Martin Ellingham, my husband. Still, he did not listen. He pulled out some papers to present what he wanted our life together to include. I wanted to scream to the rooftops that I love Martin, he loves me, and we are married forever. I told him to leave or I would call PC Penhale. That was the last time I saw him for a while.
End of chapter