A shameful death

                                         A shameful death

We lived in a large house with a big garden next to the vicarage.The house was situated in a charming village in the south of England. My father was the local doctor and my mother ran a small business selling her imaginative and unusual sculptures. Our home was always a hive of activity. My father had his surgery there and mother a large artist atelier at the back of the property. I was an only child. Both my parents were fervent protestants.Their belief imposed a presence at the Sunday service in the local church. My parents enjoyed a well established friendship with the vicar and his wife who were often seen in our house. My early years were spent playing with clay in mother’s atelier or sitting in father’s surgery while he attended to his patience. 

I was twelve years old when the vicar announced his wife was having a baby. There was great rejoicing in our village as the priestly couple were well liked. The birth produced a healthy and beautiful little girl. As I went to the local day school and came home around five o'clock I often found myself playing with baby Charlotte rather than clay. When she saw me she enjoyed jumping into my arms, giggling and kissing my cheeks. For me it was like having a little sister to love and protect. Secretly I thought the vicar’s wife had found, on many occasions, the perfect babysitter. But it was a two way street as I enjoyed the role. 

At eighteen I left the environment of my home and went to a university some hundred miles away to study medicine. I promised my mother I would come home for the weekend once a month. In the early days this was an annoying effort as I had to take a train ride with two station changes. After my first year my mother generously bought me a small car. On my monthly visits I saw Charlotte, either she came to our house or at church on Sunday. She was growing up to be a strikingly good looking young girl. In dealing with strangers she was rather shy and extremely reserved. In my opinion the problem lay in the exaggerated dominance and protection of her father. She could only have friends with whom he totally approved. My close relationship with Charlotte was founded by several years of playing together. When we saw each other it was always with cheek kisses and occasional hand holding, even in front of her father.

I was twenty six when I left the university with an honors degree in medicine. My parents and the Vicar and his wife accompanied by Charlotte came to my graduation ceremony.  Closing the door on my university years I took a two weeks holiday at home before joining a prestigious London hospital as an intern specializing in emergency accident surgery. While I was resting at home I saw a lot of Charlotte. She was now a teenager with dreams and ambitions about the future. As it was the winter time we played many indoor games like monopoly, various well known card games and charades. Sometimes we were joined by our mothers and a few village friends. It was a happy time and took my mind off the challenges of the future. Once in London I was faced with long hours and complicated surgery. I only occasionally thought about home, friends and parents. I corresponded by a weekly letters and a few postcards, this included Charlotte 

In my first year in London my mother came for a week to visit me accompanied by Charlotte. The hospital gave me a five day furlow so that I could show my visitors the sight of London. We had an enjoyable few days together. I remember the delight of showing a timid and shy teenager, blessed with an insatiable curiosity, around London. Over the next few years my life was devoted to additional studies and demands from my responsibilities at the hospital. I occasionally went home for a weekend to see my parents. On these visits I always saw Charlotte who was slowly losing her shyness in the presence of strangers. 

At the hospital I made great friends with a fellow doctor.  After much discussion we decided to create an independent medical practice specializing in accident surgery. The hospital gave us their blessing and became our first client. Before we open the doors of this venture I decide to take a well earned rest at my parents home as my father was in his last year before retiring. 

This vacation was about to change my life, it revolved around Charlotte. She had grown into a beautiful  young woman anxious to explore the world and shake off parental control. Her father, the vicar, was being very difficult. He strongly believed Charlotte should remain in the parental home until some young gentleman, of whom he approved, proposed marriage. There was no question of her being allowed to go to a university. He was greatly influenced by the period of Jane Austin’s observation of the bourgeoisie class. After long talks with Charlotte, discussion with the vicar and my parents I proposed marriage to Charlotte. 

At my proposal of marriage Charlotte did not immediately rush into my arms with a kiss and acceptance. She said, “You know Henry, I have always adored you. But… you are so bound up in your work. I think I would spend many hours alone waiting for you to take me in your arms. Also don't you think I am a bit too young. I have been so sheltered by my parents and never experienced life without their constant interference. No doubt we would live in London. Would I be able to adjust to life in the big city and be a good and faithful wife? A  man I have known all my life, a man I admire, a man I love giving cheek kisses to and holding hands. I might be suffocated by childhood memories. Will you give me twenty four hours of reflection before I give you my answer”. 

“Of course, but I know I would cherish you and devote my life to loving you”.

Charlotte and I were married in a bucolic country wedding in front of most of the villages. The service was conducted by the Vicar and blessed by both parents.

We left for London. For the first six months of our marriage I tried desperately to spend as much time with Charlotte as possible but it was difficult as my work had many calls on my time. Charlotte seemed very happy with her new found freedom. She excitedly told me about all the extraordinary statues, art galleries and places she had explored in the city.  When I introduced her to my friends I could detect in their eyes how an overworked doctor could satisfy such a beautiful creature. Maybe I didn’t know myself but once married I realized Charlotte's presence was what made my life worth living. I also understood she was like a beautiful butterfly that wanted to spread her wings and explore all the adventures that the world had to offer. Living alongside a doctor, always harassed by his work, was already putting strains on their marriage. It was obvious I might lose her. I had to devise a way of entrapping the beautiful butterfly, to permanently secure our union. I knew without her my life would be a descent into hell.

After a few sleepless nights I came up with a macabre solution. It was to clip her wings by permanently damaging the optic nerve rendering her blind. It had to be achieved without any side effects to her overall health. This I did by lacing her morning tea with a special poison. If administered over a short period in small proportion the poison I selected would achieve the required result. It took a week which included two visits to an optician. On each visit I accompanied Charlotte who was naturally deeply disturbed and concerned about the possibility of losing her sight. On the second visit the optician, although he was a little bewildered by what was happening, concluded that Charlotte would most likely be blind in two days. There was no procedure or operation at this stage that could reverse the situation, her optic nerve was practically dead.  He told us that he had sent all Charlotte’s data to a specialist for a second opinion. The conclusion was the same. 

The first month of Charlotte blindness was the most difficult. It fluctuated from despair to the challenges of living without sight. The second month was on a much more positive note. I employed a teacher to instruct her in reading braille. She slowly learnt to cook again by feel and smell. I had installed a stove designed for blind people. In the third month Charlotte finally accepted her blindness and took up the challenge of living in the dark. She kept saying. “It's so wonderful having you as my husband showing me and explaining the world around us. I am so lucky to be married to a man so gentle, kind and considerate with his young wife that has been afflicted with a disease that caused blindness.”

As the months and years passed  Charlotte coped like a champion with her blindness. We developed a harmony of living together that was a mixture of profound love and respect for each other. My fears that she would leave me in a thirst for another life of adventure had been completely abandoned by her misfortune. Both our parents and a few village friends visited us regularly to animate and enjoy a day with Charlotte. 

Then the inevitable cycle of life descended on the family. Within the next ten years both sets of parents died. It was a sad time as Charlotte by this time had become very close to her father who spent hours reading and talking about the scriptures. I inherited our family’s home and told Charlotte that within the next five years I would semi-retire and we would go and live there. She was excited as it would represent a set of new challengers. “Darling,” she said. “I will be able to smell the flowers, walk in the fields, hear the animals, maybe we could buy a dog”. 

Six years later we were happily installed in my parent’s house. The villagers were delighted to see Charlotte back living amongst them. They created a support group making sure Charlotte was visited every day. We bought a dog that was often seen in the village leading Charlotte around the shops. I took up gardening and spent hours teaching and describing various plants to Charlotte. In the summer we spent the evenings on the terrace intoxicated by the various flowers’ perfumes from the garden. The neighbors devised a plant and flower recognition competition for us. Charlotte also learnt the art of clay modeling. It did not take her long to create some fascinating bowles and statues that we regularly sold at the village bi-annual fairs. I once took her to Paris, Madrid and Copenhagen.  It was a period when as a couple we felt at peace with the world and profoundly happy.

In my eighty third year tragedy befell our household. I had been in London for two days giving a couple of speeches and returned tired to Charlotte's open arms. She was full of the villages’ gossip from an evening with the village festival committee. Her dog and I sat in silence listening. After dinner, a meal cooked by Charlotte, I retired to bed for an early night. The next morning’s dew welcomed a bright spring day. After breakfast I headed for the garden as I intended to pot a few plants. After about five minutes of bending down to complete the task I felt a violent pain in my chest. I knew immediately I was having a serious heart attack. I just had time and the energy to return to the house and lie down on my bed. I  call Charlotte. She came quickly with her dog. 

With great difficulty and with a breathless voice I said.

“My love, I am in the process of having a violent heart attack. I have taken something but I fear it is too late. I am going to die. 

She bent over the bed and took me in her arms.

“Please don’t leave me. I am married to a remarkable man. When we got married I was so young, so curious of what the world had to offer. But when my misfortune of living in darkness happened you were the most wonderful person. I fell profoundly in love with you. You showed me the world’s beauty and its ugly side. I have spent an enchanting and blessed life.  Don’t leave me. I will give the phone to call an ambulance.

In a very slow whispered voice I said. “First, I have something ….to tell…..” the mouth kept moving but there was no sound. Within seconds I had left this earth to that place they call heaven. 

David Nutt                                  November 2024