Authors: Mary Francis
*****
Seated close together in the passenger lounge, they waited for their
flight to be called, their hands clasped together and Charis wondered if anyone
could tell they were newlyweds. Ben had been dressed very formally for their
wedding in a dark grey suit and silver grey tie. She thought, as she’d told
him, that he looked “dishy”. She’d told him before that he was drop dead
gorgeous. He’d laughed it off but she knew he was the most handsome man she’d
ever seen. Now, dressed a bit more casually, she thought he looked even better.
He was wearing black, slim fitting trousers and a shirt that had narrow stripes
of blue, white, grey and black with a white collar and cuffs and open at the
neck, with gold cuff links and a gold watch. She thought if she lived to be a
hundred she would never see him look better. He smiled at her and her insides
lurched.
“I love you,” she whispered to him.
He put his arm around her and leaned close. “And I you, with all my
heart and soul.”
Charis felt as though she couldn’t contain another ounce of happiness.
Ben's attention was soon caught by another couple waiting for the
plane. They were Muslim, and he could tell that the wife was pregnant.
Too
pregnant, in fact, to be allowed to fly,
he thought. When their flight was
called he and Charis were among the first to board as they had seats in first
class. He was shocked when the Muslim couple boarded a little later and walked
back into the main cabin. Ben knew that airlines were rather strict about allowing
pregnant women to fly but he pushed it to the back of his mind and settled down
to enjoy some quiet time with his wife.
They hadn’t been in the air much more than an hour when a flight
attendant approached him and asked, “Dr. Sinclair?”
He nodded. “Yes?” he replied.
“Are you a medical doctor?”
“Yes, I am,” he confirmed.
“Well, I'm sorry to bother you but one of our passengers seems to
have gone into early labour and is having a baby.”
Ben groaned. This was exactly what he’d feared when he saw them
boarding the plane. He unfastened his seatbelt and stood immediately. “Where is
she?” he asked, the concern for her apparent.
“In the rear cabin,” the attendant answered.
“We'll need some room. Is there something…somewhere she can go?”
The plane was full and the only space they could make was at the
front of the main cabin. They moved the passengers sitting in the three centre
seats. The husband assisted his wife down the aisle and helped her sit. She was
doubled over in pain but the husband turned to head back to his seat.
“Where do you think you are going?” Ben asked.
The man stuttered something about it not being the right place for a
man as he continued to walk to the rear of the plane.
“Stop!” Ben was almost shouting at him.
The man turned, startled.
“Does your wife speak English?”
He shook his head.
“Good. I don’t want her to know what I’m saying to you. You're not
going to leave her alone - she needs you to be with her. This baby is coming
too early. She is probably scared that it could die…she may even think that she
is going to die, too. We have no facilities here to take care of a new-born
baby, let alone a premature one, and nothing available to ease her pain. I am
assuming that you are the father of the child?”
The man nodded. “Of course!” he said, somewhat indignantly.
“Well,” Ben went on, oblivious of the other listening passengers.
“You had the pleasure of her body, now you are going to help her through the
pain. She is surrounded by strangers. She needs you.”
Ben was surprised when some of the passengers started to clap. He
looked around with a sheepish grin and said, “I'm sorry, I forgot for a moment
where I was.”
He waited for the man to return to his wife’s side, then he
followed. He told Charis she'd have to help. She nodded immediately and said, “Just
tell me what to do.”
“Good girl,” he smiled at her. Then he turned to the flight
attendant. “We'll need your first aid box, plenty of cushions and blankets and
can you see if there is anyone on board who has any clinical training at all,
please?”
They made his newest patient as comfortable as possible by putting
the seat arms upright and padding the seats with cushions and blankets and even
managed to rig up a couple of blankets as curtains to give a small amount of privacy.
Ben had the husband sit in the end seat with his wife's head and shoulders on
his lap.
“You need to comfort her and try to be a support to her,” Ben
instructed him. Then he turned and spoke to the woman in Arabic. She seemed
surprised…and relieved. He asked questions and she replied in a soft voice. The
flight attendant reappeared and informed him that they’d found a French woman
who was a retired nurse, but she didn't speak English, and turned to the older
lady standing behind her. Ben spoke to her in French. They had a rapid
conversation and then the nurse bent over her new patient and began
preparations for the birth. Ben told Charis he may need her to assist him, so
to stay close.
The mother's contractions were coming strong and fast. Ben rolled up
his sleeves and set to work. In the end Charis wasn't
really
needed. She
spent her time kneeling beside the mother, holding her hand and letting her
squeeze when the contractions came. She wiped her face, gave her little sips of
water and tried to be a comfort, all the while watching Ben. He was completely
involved with what he was doing; gently talking to and encouraging his
patient.
It had been decided that the French nurse would take care of the
baby as soon as Ben had made sure it was relatively healthy, while Ben took
care of the mother. He was speaking French to the nurse, Arabic to his patient
and English to Charis and the flight attendant, who remained hovering nearby in
case Ben needed anything more.
The Captain's voice came over the intercom. “Ladies and Gentlemen, we'll
be making a slight detour to Rome so that two, or possibly three, of our
passengers may be taken to hospital. Please remain in your seats when we land
so the medical personnel can get in and out without hindrance. We’ll be
landing in about thirty minutes.”
Charis' attention was diverted by Ben.
“Well, he'll be here before then,” he said. “I can see the head.”
Again Ben spoke quietly to the mother and she nodded and Ben smiled
at her, and suddenly Charis knew that all his patients were at least a
little
in love with him. He was completely absorbed in what he was doing; kind and
gentle and thoughtful with his patient. She understood Allison's insistence on
having him take care of her for her next baby, and why Helen had been so happy
to have him for her doctor. Then Ben was telling the mother to push, to breathe,
to wait and to push again, and suddenly the baby was born – a boy!
“A little early,” said Ben. “But he looks healthy enough.”
The baby started to cry. The mother tried to raise herself to see
and her husband helped her up to get a glimpse of their baby. Charis felt her
eyes fill with tears.
So this was the miracle of childbirth
. She could
see, and feel, the parents’ joy and the relief that Ben felt with the safe
arrival of the child. She knew he’d been worried. Ben clamped the umbilical
cord, the nurse wrapped the baby and handed him to his mother. Charis knew the
picture of the little family would live in her mind forever.
Ben was still busy; the afterbirth had to be delivered and the cord
cut. By the time they landed in Rome, it was all over. Ben accompanied his
patient out of the plane to the waiting ambulance. He was not gone long and
within a short time they were back in the air, on course for London.
“You're a very good doctor, aren't you?” Charis asked.
“Well, I hope so,” Ben answered her. “I try to be.”
“Will they be all right?”
“I think so. The doctor who came with the ambulance seemed competent.
And they had adequate equipment with them.” He smiled at her, “They'll be
fine.”
She was so proud of this new husband of hers; the way he had handled
the situation, spoken to the husband and his tender care of the new, young
mother. Ben in his turn was proud of Charis…the way she’d been so willing to
help. He was quite sure she’d never seen a baby born before but she had taken
it all in stride and knew instinctively how to speak to and help the mother.
“Shall we have children?” he asked her.
“Do you want children?” she responded.
“Yes,” he nodded. “One day I would like to have a family. Lots of
little girls who look just like their mother.” He smiled at her.
“It would be nice to have a big family,” she said. “But not yet.”
“No, not for a while,” he agreed.
She hesitated, and then almost in a whisper, managed to say, “My
mother and Grandmother both died in childbirth.”
“Yes.”
“I really don't want to die. I can't bear the thought of leaving a
child without a mother.”
“I promise you, my love, there is no way I would ever let you die in
childbirth.” He was emphatic. He waited for her to go on but when she didn't he
said, “You would tell me if you had any problems wouldn't you? Especially if
they were ones that may affect you with having a baby?”
“I don't know,” she said. “I've never had to talk to a doctor about
anything.”
“Never?” He was amazed.
“No,” she said. “Maybe when my father was alive. I expect I had some
childish ailments but I don't remember. And once I was at school the Matron
used to take care of all those kinds of things. I've never been seriously ill…just
an occasional cold, sore throat or tummy bug so I've never had any reason to
see a doctor…professionally that is,” she added grinning up at him.
“So you've never had a medical examination of any kind?”
She shook her head.
“A pap smear?”
She shook her head again. “No, nothing.”
“Well, that is all going to change, young lady,” he said. “We'll get
that taken care of when I get you home.”
“Only if
you
take care of it,” was her spirited response. “I
don't do the doctor thing.”
“But you must be registered with a surgery?”
“Well, yes I am. But I never go.”
“Who are you registered with then?”
“I believe it is a Dr. Isabella Norris. But I've never seen her. I
only saw a nurse when I joined the surgery a couple of years ago.”
“I know Bella very well. She's a really good doctor. Her husband,
Frank, is the senior partner at St. Anne's.”
He let the subject drop and told her to try to get some sleep
because once they got home he didn't intend for either of them to sleep much.
PART VI
HONEYMOON
Because their plane being diverted to Rome
added almost two hours to the journey, it was late when the newlyweds arrived
home. Charis was relieved to see Mrs. Everett's house in darkness. They’d
managed to sleep for an hour or two on the plane but it had been a long day and
were both extremely tired. Climbing the stairs to their bedroom, they decided
to leave the unpacking of their suitcases until the following morning.
A short ten minutes later they climbed into bed and Ben gathered his
wife in his arms and kissed her; softly, sweetly, tenderly.
“Happy Mrs. Sinclair?” he asked.
“My cup runneth over,” she said, her hand caressing his cheek, before
they fell into a deep, restful sleep.
Ben awoke to a bright, sunny morning, the smell of bacon cooking
wafting up from the kitchen. Charis was making breakfast. He suddenly realised
he was starving.
As Ben came downstairs he noticed that she’d obviously been up for
some time because she’d already showered and had made a breakfast of grilled
sausages, bacon, eggs, tomatoes and mushrooms, with toast and juice. They sat
and ate and as he complimented her for the second time, she warned him not to
expect this for breakfast every day – it was special for the first day of their
married life. Ben laughed and told her it was delicious but he couldn't eat a
breakfast like that
too
often or he’d have to go on a strict diet. When
they’d cleaned their plates and emptied their glasses Ben went up to shower and
Charis tidied the kitchen and put the dishes in the dishwasher.
By the time he came out of the bathroom, Charis was lying in their
bed waiting for him. He reached for her and held her close.
*****
Over the next two weeks, they spent a lot of time at home, just
enjoying being together. But they also ventured out. The weather was kind to
them, as it usually is in London in early summer, and their little garden was
as beautiful as Ben thought it would be, so they spent as much time as they
could there, too. The wisteria bloomed over the pergola, and the roses were
beginning to flower. Charis had planted climbers and ramblers to cover the
brick walls and the trellis that hid the shed. The late tulips and the peonies
were fading but the oriental poppies and other perennials were budding, ready
to bloom. It was only a small space but Ben thought Charis had turned it into a
miniature Garden of Eden.
They went for walks, hand in hand, along the embankment, stopping every
so often to watch the river. Sometimes they went for a stroll in one of the
many London parks. On one particularly beautiful day they took the little boat
from Westminster Bridge down to the Tower, recreating Charis' childhood outings
with her father. Ben watched her enjoyment and asked questions about her previous
visits and she’d loved telling him the stories that her father had told her of
all the things that happened there.
On the first Tuesday of their honeymoon they bought their car. Ben
had already decided what he wanted so he contacted the local Jaguar dealer to
make sure they had the model he wanted. They did…and not just the right model
but also in a colour they both liked the moment they saw it. It was a dark blue.
Almost like gun metal,
Charis thought. Driving home they joked about feeling
very grand indeed.
Of course, Ben didn't escape meeting Mrs. Everett for very long.
Charis had warned him not to say
anything
about being a doctor or she'd
be bothering him all the time about her ailments…real and imagined. She
appeared to be pleased that Charis had married and questioned them on all the
details of their wedding and how and when they met.
“Phew,” said Ben when they escaped. “What an inquisition!”
“That's why I always try to avoid her,” explained Charis. “She's a
real busybody! And such a gossip! Everybody in the mews will have all the
information we've just given her in no time at all.” They were both relieved
they’d managed to dodge most of her questions.
Another of their outings was food shopping, to the closest
Sainsbury's supermarket. It was a job that neither of them had enjoyed before,
but it took on a whole new meaning when they went together and had fun filling
the trolley with their favourite foods. They decided that whenever possible
they would try to do the shopping together – it would be much more pleasant
that way. Occasionally they ate out at a nice restaurant, but mostly Charis
cooked for them at home and Ben's faith in her cooking skills was not
displaced. He noted that all their meals were well balanced and nutritious.
Charis had informed him that she enjoyed cooking, and Jennifer had told him that
Charis was a very good cook. Ben however thought she was an excellent cook.
“I can see I’m going to have to watch my weight!” he told her after
a particularly tasty meal.
They spent an evening at a nightclub dancing, reminiscent of their
night in Cairo. She even wore the same dress, dark blue chiffon with a beaded
bodice. Charis loved the feeling of being enveloped in Ben's arms, safe, secure
and loved, whispering softly to each other and Ben kissing her gently on her
cheek or forehead as they moved to the music.
Another wonderful evening was spent at the ballet. Charis was
enchanted with the dancing and Ben was enchanted with Charis. He watched her
face as she watched the ballet and smiled at her delight in it all.
Ben's mother, Emily, e-mailed photos of the wedding to them and they
chose several to print. Charis decided she would buy a photo album and knew
she’d have a wonderful time sorting the pictures and putting it all together…but
she'd do it when Ben went back to work. She didn't want to spend the time while
he was at home. Together they picked out a couple of their favourite photos to
enlarge and display somewhere in the house. They sent a message of grateful
thanks to Giles for his kindness in taking them in the first place, and told
him how much they loved and appreciated him.
The highlight of the first week was their visit to Meadow Lea Hall. Ben
had suggested they go and Charis had rung the tenants to see if they would
mind.
Howard and Tricia Maitland were an American couple…in their fifties
and empty nesters. Howard had been fortunate in his career; financially
successful and retired early. He’d always dreamed of living the life of an
English gentleman so they’d come to England and rented Meadow Lea Hall on a
five-year lease. When the five years were up the lease could be extended on a
yearly basis. Charis knew that as their adult children left college, settled
down and started having children, they would return to America. So far they’d
been living in her home for four years and had come to love the place and
looked after it as though it was their own. They seemed genuinely happy for
Charis and Ben to visit.
On Friday morning Ben and Charis drove out of London in their new
car onto the M4, heading towards Bristol until they came to junction seventeen.
They took the road to Chippenham for a few miles, then turned onto a side road
to Castle Combe. Just a couple of miles past Castle Combe they made a left turn
towards Bath, then down the next lane and there it was - Meadow Lea Hall.
Ben would have known it anywhere from the picture in their sitting
room. Glorious in its setting of trees, shrubs, lawns and flowers with fields
beyond, rolling hills to the south and the Cotswolds rising in the distance to
the north, he could imagine Charis here as a child learning to love her home
and her heritage. He helped her from the car and turned and gazed at the house.
Built of Cotswold stone, long and low, it looked as though it had grown out of
the ground. A covered porch jutted out from the building with a wing either
side. It was built in two stories, with dormer windows in the upper floor. A
semi-circular driveway led up from the lane, a low stone cavity wall with
flowers tumbling over it between the two entrances. Banks of rhododendrons lined
each side of the drive with an immaculately manicured lawn in front of the
house. The heavy oak door opened and the Maitlands waited to greet them.
They’d prepared lunch and the four of them enjoyed a friendly chat
as they ate. Afterwards, Tricia Maitland suggested that Charis might like to
show Ben around her ancestral home. Charis eagerly accepted the offer.
The room they had been dining in opened off the large oak panelled
central hall, with a sitting room on the opposite side. They climbed the
impressive staircase to the upper floor and apart from the room that was
occupied by the Maitlands, explored the rest of the rooms. Charis showed Ben
her childhood bedroom, which was just as she’d left it. He could imagine her
living there - he thought it had her personality stamped all over it, echoes of
her home in Chelsea; a bookcase filled with her favourite books that she’d
loved as a child, a large doll’s house in the corner, some pictures on the
wall, including photos from her schooldays with Jennifer, a small dressing
table in the opposite corner to the doll's house, a writing desk and chair, a
rug on the floor and cushions on the bed, and all decorated in pastel colours.
Charis took Ben by the hand and led him outside and they strolled
through the gardens. A four car garage with an enclosed kitchen garden and a
small orchard was at one side of the house, with a small greenhouse and the
infamous garden shed that Charis had been locked in by Mildred. Another walled
garden was on the other side of the house; a flower garden, almost ready to
burst into the peak of summer perfection. Lawns swept down to the little stream
which separated the garden from the home farm at the rear of the house. All
around them were carefully tended flower beds, shrubs and trees. Charis told
him that her mother and grandfather had designed the gardens and Ben realised
Charis had inherited her talent from them in creating their little garden in
Chelsea.
Once back inside she showed him the study where her grandfather,
William, had retreated to when his Jane died, and later where her father had
written several of his books. They toured the kitchen where Mrs. Patterson had
given Charis her first rudimentary lessons in cooking. The love of her home was
obvious to Ben, it was something that was
part
of her. He resolved right
then that someday they would indeed make it their home.
They learned that the Pattersons had gone to Scotland, just the day
before, to visit their son and his family, so thanking the Maitland's for their
kindness, Ben and Charis had a short visit with the Ridleys before making their
way back to London.
They rode in silence for the first few miles, both engrossed in
their own thoughts. Finally Charis spoke. “Did you like it?”
“It is possibly the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen,” he
replied.
“You're not just saying that?”
“Of course not,” he smiled at her. “It's not the largest or grandest
house I've been to, but it has a warm and wonderful feel to it…the kind of house
that would be a perfect place to raise a family.”
“Would you
mind
living in my house?” she asked him.
“Of course not,” he said again. “One day we'll make it our home…raise
our children there.”
“But your work is in London.”
“It is now, but not forever. London isn’t the best place for a
growing family. We're both country people and doctors are needed everywhere.
Maybe in a few years I could have a practice in, or near, Bath. Or maybe we
could expand the Health Centres to other areas of the country, including
Bath.” He smiled at her once more.
They arrived back at their Chelsea home in time for Charis to cook
dinner. She’d put some chicken breasts and a sour cream sauce in the slow
cooker before they left and the house was filled with a delicious smell. All
she had to do was cook rice and a few vegetables and dinner was served. Ben set
the table and opened a bottle of Shloer for them to drink. Charis had learned the
reason that Ben refused to drink alcohol was because he’d seen the carnage it
wrought and the illnesses it caused in his experiences in the A&E.
As they ate their meal, which tasted as wonderful as it smelled,
they talked about Meadow Lea Hall and he asked her more questions about her
childhood. Their conversation continued as they cleaned the kitchen, loaded the
dishwasher and walked upstairs to the sitting room.
“Play something for me,” he said. “Do you know any Chopin pieces?”
Charis sat at her piano and played Chopin's Nocturne in E flat and
Etude in E major, while Ben gazed at her. He was so grateful for the sudden
change in his life and at times couldn't help but wonder what would have
happened to his precious wife if he hadn't been there in her time of need. He’d
told his mother that Charis would have killed herself, and he was still certain
that’s what she would’ve done. The thought chilled him to the bone.
Charis had thought him an Arab at first and therefore a Muslim. In
fact, as she now knew, he’d been raised in a Christian home, where Christian
ethics and values were taught and lived. He’d never thought much about God
having a hand in his life, but he considered it now and realised that the way
things had happened was no coincidence. Some force beyond himself, some divine
intervention, had put him
exactly
where he needed to be, and when. For
the first time since he was a boy, he silently offered up a prayer of thanks.