Doc Martin 1. Chapter 1

Martin woke with a sigh of contentment. Last night, after months of ghastly therapy, separately and together, he and Louisa had recommitted themselves to each other in tenderly romantic lovemaking. He felt healed and full of love for her, more than he had ever felt before, if that were possible. He told himself that this feeling was just the result of the hormones oxytocin and vasopressin that his body had released while they were making love, but he didn't care. He stretched and reached out to enfold her in an early morning embrace, but she wasn't there. Only slightly disappointed, he accepted that she was probably up with James, who was still an occasional early riser. Louisa, being the wonderful caring mother that he always knew she would be, and also wanting to let him sleep a little longer after his exertions the night before, had probably taken James downstairs for an early breakfast.

As the haze of sleep lifted further and the memories faded into the back of his mind, he noticed that the usual early morning cacophony of seagulls was missing. In its place was the sound of honking horns and revving engines. What could possibly be going on to make that kind of racket up here on the sleepier side of the village, at half six in the morning no less! He lay there for a moment thinking the clamour would stop. When it didn't he scrambled from the bed to the window and angrily threw the curtains aside ready to hurl epithets at the idiots responsible. The scene that greeted his eyes caused him to step back a moment and shake himself. Obviously he was still muddled by sleep. When he opened his eyes again, the same view greeted his eyes. He saw not Portwenn's quiet harbour but the park across the street from his old flat in Kensington.

Confused, he rubbed his eyes and took another look. Yes he was definitely in London... Odd... Did they come down to London to celebrate and he had just forgotten? That must be it, but it was very unlike him to forget something like that. "Louisa" he bellowed. When he heard no response, he stomped through the bedroom door and into the lounge. "Louisa?" he cried again. No response. He checked the kitchen and the spare room where they would have placed James' travel cot. There was no sign of either of them, or their things. He must have come down to London by himself and dreamt the previous night's activities. Disappointed, he thought, "_Unfortunate. It was all too good to be true I guess._" He wracked his brain trying to remember why he had come to London. He must have come for a reason; it was frightening that he couldn't remember.

He searched for his bag. He would have any appointments written in his diary; that should jog his memory. He went into the spare room where his desk had always been and there was his diary sitting open. He looked on the schedule where several surgical procedures were listed. That didn't make sense. He flipped through several more pages before realising that this was his diary from five years ago, from the day he had developed his haemophobia. He remembered meeting with one of that morning's patients the previous night, a Mrs. Smithson. Her family was particularly concerned with her prognosis and was clinging to her as he left her room. He had met with them again before prepping for the procedure. He remembered feeling somewhat disconcerted by their emotional agitation. He knew now that, in fact, their heightened concern for her was the genesis of his haemophobia.

As he thought about that day, he felt a jolt course through his body as it dawned on him that he shouldn't be in his old flat. Hadn't he sold it to pay off his father for Joan's farm? He walked slowly through the lounge to the entry way and opened the door to find the daily paper where it was always placed early in the morning. He opened it up. Tuesday, August 12, 2003. He stepped into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator which was filled with the healthy fruit and vegetables that he had preferred when he was living in London. He slowly went back to the study, stopping to notice that nothing in the lounge had changed from his surgical days. He studied his diary again and the notes lying on his desk.

Was it possible that he was still in London, still a surgeon doing the one thing he was ever any good at. That must be it! His time in Portwenn must have been a very bad dream. Or was this a dream and he would soon awaken in his bed in Portwenn. He shook himself, then walked into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face. He was definitely awake and the visage that stared back at him in the mirror was his younger self. He leaned over the sink, his hands resting on the sides and felt the relief wash over him. He allowed himself a small smile as he thought that yes he was in his old London flat; he was still a vascular specialist and still the head of a team of registrars, charged with setting them straight as they trained for surgical careers. His time in Portwenn _was_ just a very bad dream, and now the nightmare was over. Thank God!

He went back into his study to review his notes for the day so he could visualise the procedures while he showered and dressed, part of his normal morning routine. But then, an image of Louisa and James floated before him. If it was all a dream, then they didn't exist, were not a part of his life. He dropped into his desk chair and buried his face in his hands. His life in Portwenn had seemed so real. He should be glad that it was just a dream and that he was still working in London. He groaned aloud. Deep down he really wanted that life with Louisa as well. Was it possible that his dream was telling him that it was time to look beyond surgery, to at least consider finding someone with whom he could share his life? He considered it briefly, then rejected the idea as preposterous. "Humph", he grunted under his breath, "Unlikely." There was no sense in pining after what wasn't meant to be. He straightened himself up and prepared to begin his day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

By midmorning he had finished his scheduled surgical procedures for the day. All were fairly straightforward, procedures he had performed many times and all went well. Martin was particularly careful with Mrs. Smithson, quickly checking in with her and her family just before the start of her surgery. No one would call him a superstitious man, but why chance it he thought. Get in and out, don't get involved and just take care of her as he had been trained. Everything went smoothly and there was no hint of any haemophobia. He didn't know why, but he felt somehow that he had just missed a potential career meltdown by the thinnest of hairs.

Sipping his espresso, carefully brewed in the new espresso machine he had recently installed in his office, he wrote up his notes and once again thought about his Portwenn dream. God knows he was grateful that he was not exiled to the back of beyond as a small village GP and that he was still able to work as a vascular surgeon. But he did remember evenings and weekends spent with his little family and the joy he felt just being at home with them, hearing Louisa and James chattering back and forth and the big smile on James' face whenever he saw his daddy. And then the nights with Louisa, just lying next to her, breathing in her scent, and more; those memories made his body long for her touch. _ "Ahhhh….really best try to forget that Ellingham"_. He finished up his notes and headed down the hall for his midmorning rounds with his registrars.

Rounds went fairly well today except for Pitts; that arse is not keeping up. Best to have it out with him, let him know that he needs to step it up or he's out; maybe find another specialty that is not so demanding, dermatology maybe. Before his dream he would have suggested General Practice, but now he felt the challenges facing GPs were underrated. "There is no way I'll sign off on his moving up unless he performs 100%. The reputation of surgical training at St. Mary's has to be maintained; patients want to feel confident that a surgeon trained here is not just adequate, but is tops in his field." He muttered to himself.

A few minutes later he was in the corridor, walking purposefully toward the surgical suites where he had a last minute procedure scheduled for 11:30. He was oblivious to the visitors and others crowding the hallways when he caught a glimpse, just a glimpse of something familiar: the swish of a dark ponytail. Caught off guard, he stopped for a moment, chastising himself, "_That dream has you hallucinating, Ellingham._" He shook himself and started back down the hall, then reconsidered and turned to see a young woman staring at the hospital map on the wall near the high dependency unit, a young woman with a dark ponytail, just like his Louisa's. "_Get a grip man_", he told himself, "_You know she's just a figment of your imagination". _He turned back and tried to focus on his patient, but then paused a second time letting curiosity overcome his normal indifference_, "It wouldn't do any harm to take a look_". Slowly he turned and walked back to where she was standing and said, "Can I help you?"

She looked up and replied, "Oh that would be wonderful. My friend was in the high dependency unit here yesterday, but they transferred her to another ward this morning, and I can't seem to find it here on the directory". She gave him the sheet where the nurse had written the name of the new ward and smiled up at him expectantly.

He managed to keep his expression calm as he realized that she was his Louisa. Her smile was even more brilliant than in his dream. How could she be here in his hospital? All he could do was stare wide-eyed in wonder. He wanted to enfold her in his arms and never let her go, but restrained himself. After all she wasn't really his Louisa, but a stranger who bore an uncanny resemblance to the woman of his dreams. She even had a slight Cornish accent. After a few seconds when he did not respond, she tilted her head and gave him a quizzical look. He had an odd expression on his face, puzzlement, hurt, longing; she couldn't really decide, but whatever he was thinking she needed to get to her friend's bedside. "Can you give me directions? ….or maybe, not?" she asked again.

"Yes, yes. Sorry, you reminded me of ..." he mumbled and looked down at the sheet she had given him. Realizing that the hospital had transferred her friend to a ward located in another wing, he quickly spoke up, "It's in another wing. I'm heading that way myself and could show you, if you like." Perhaps he could take her the long way around and have a few minutes to speak with her, find out something about her. His patient could wait.

"That would be very kind if you're sure it's not out of your way."

"No, it's not. It's this way", and he motioned for her to follow him down the hallway. "So your friend must be improving if she's been moved out of the HDU. Good news I'm sure."

'Yes, she had a really bad fall while we were out playing tourist yesterday. When she passed out and I couldn't wake her, I called an ambulance and came in with her to A&amp;E. They were concerned that she might have some brain injury, and maybe a skull fracture, something called a basilar skull fracture? Fortunately she regained consciousness this morning. I think they've ruled out the skull fracture, but they still want to keep an eye on her in case her concussion worsens. So much for my holiday in London, I'm afraid"

"Must have been a serious fall. They are right to keep her under observation." He started to explain the potential medical consequences of blows to the head, and then thought better of it. He only had a few minutes and he wanted to find out more about her. "So you don't live here in London then?"

"No, I live and work in Cornwall. Holly, my friend, and I were in school together, and I came up to visit her while we both had some time before school term begins in September."

"So are you a teacher, in Cornwall?" he tentatively asked her.

"Yes, head teacher at Portwenn Primary in North Cornwall"

"Portwenn?" The similarities to his dream life were too close to be believable.

"Yes, it's a very small village. Few people I've met here in London know it, although we do get quite a few tourists in the summer months."

"I spent summers as a child on my Aunt's farm near Portwenn. Those were the happiest days of my childhood," he stated as a smile flickered across his face at the memory.

"Really? Is your Aunt still living there? Perhaps I know her. It's a very small village you know. Do you visit her there now?" She seemed genuinely interested.

Aunty Joan, he spoke with her on her birthday and at Christmas every year, but it had been far too long since he had been down to visit, only twice since his childhood. The first time was on that ill-fated trip with Edith, his fiancée during medical school; he could tell Aunty Joan and Edith didn't get on, not that it mattered in the end. Then a quick trip down with Ruth for Joan's sixtieth birthday; what an event that had been with every moron from the village crowded into the farmhouse! "My Aunty Joan, Joan Norton, still lives and works her farm just outside Portwenn. I haven't been down there in a number of years, and she is elderly. Just talking about her makes me realise I should visit."

"I know Joan. Actually I've known her all my life, but I didn't know she had a nephew. I'm sure she would enjoy a visit. She is one of the most caring women I know, always there to lend a hand, looking out for everyone in the village."

"Yes, she was always kind to me." He stopped in the hallway. "Here we are; your friend should be on the ward here."

"Thank you so much. It was nice meeting you….I don't think I caught your name?"

"Ellingham, Martin Ellingham".

She held out her hand, "Louisa Glasson. It was nice talking with you Martin".

He took her hand, "Yes." He turned to walk away, and then stopped. He needed to get to know her, learn even more about her, but how? If he left her now, he might never see her again unless he ran into her in Portwenn. Against his natural reticence, he slowly turned back and gently called her name, "Louisa?"

She stopped and turned, "Yes?"

"Louisa, it was nice talking with you also. Ehm," he stalled. "Would you be free for dinner tonight, or a drink? Perhaps you could tell me more about Portwenn." He didn't want her to think he was asking her out on a date, as such.

"That would be nice, but I've got plans to meet up with some friends for dinner tonight at 8." She noticed the look of disappointment that quickly crossed his face, and then reconsidered. "I guess I could meet for a drink before then." She wasn't sure she should be meeting up with this man she had just met and knew nothing about, but he seemed nice enough and he was related to Joan.

"Yes. Good. I know a nice little café near here. I'll meet you in the main lobby at 6:15 and we can walk there together".

Just then a voice over the hospital intercom announced, "Mr. Ellingham to theatre 3, Mr. Ellingham to theatre 3."

"I've got to go. I don't have a card with me, but let give you my number. Do you have a pen?"

She rummaged in her purse and handed him a worn down pencil. He quickly wrote his mobile number down on the sheet she had handed him earlier, and then asked, "May I have your number as well, just in case?" She gave him her number which he wrote on the edge of the sheet and then tore off. "I'll see you at 6:15", and with that he strode off.

She looked down and realized he still had her pencil and she started to walk after him, "Martin, my pencil…" but he was already around the corner and out of sight.

**. . . . .To be continued**


	3. Chapter 3

Holly was sleeping when Louisa approached her bed. Even though she was now on a regular ward, she was still hooked up to several machines that were monitoring her vital signs. The ward sister told her that Holly was much improved, but she still looked terrible, even worse than last night when her face was covered with scrapes where she had hit a stone planter when she slipped and fell down some steps in Kensington Gardens. Now those scrapes had turned into bruises. She had two large red circles around her eyes that made her look like a raccoon. Her nose was swollen and red, as were her lips. Louisa wondered if she could keep Holly away from a mirror until her face started to heal. Probably not, and Holly would be mortified when she realized that even make up wouldn't camouflage the damage.

"_Well_," Louisa thought with resignation, "_There's nothing I can do about it. Time heals all wounds, and all that. Holly will just have to deal with it in her own way." _ She sat down in the visitor's chair to think about the tall thoughtful surgeon she had just met; at least she was fairly certain he was a surgeon, or an important member of a surgical team. Why else would he have been paged to a surgical theatre? And wasn't it odd that he had family in her village; she resolved to call in on Joan as soon as she returned home to find out all about him. He certainly was an attractive man, although solemn, only a momentary hint of a smile while they were talking.

It was all very intriguing; she hoped she would have some success in learning more about him when they met for drinks this evening. Dinner would have given her more time, but she was glad she had an easy excuse to demur. You never knew how these things would go; if drinks went well, there was always time for dinner some other time. Perhaps she could tempt him to visit Joan and meet her for dinner in Cornwall. "_Louisa, Louisa, don't get carried away_", she smiled to herself, while twisting a strand of hair around her finger. "_Wait and see how this evening goes. And don't forget Michael; a few days in London and you're already thinking about another man. Shame on you! But it is an interesting development_".

She pulled out her tablet in order to finish the novel she had been reading when she heard Holly stir. "How are you feeling? You gave me quite a fright."

"Groggy, and my head hurts. Get me a drink of water?"

"Sure". Louisa went down the hall and returned with a plastic cup and a pitcher full of water. "Here you go."

She watched Holly chug down the cup of water. You would have thought it was a pint and she was a footballer the way she finished it off, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Not quite the elegant lady she presented to her students and their parents in her role as head teacher at her posh girls' school. "Do you remember anything from yesterday?" Louisa asked.

"Kind of a blur you know. I remember we got up quite late yesterday morning after staying up so late Sunday night. What a wonderful silly evening we had, wasn't it? Then we headed down to do the tourist things we always said we would do. I remember that we took a river cruise from Westminster Pier. We should have done that years ago."

"Yes, that was really an eye-opener. It's amazing how much you can learn about the city from the perspective of the river. I plan to put a unit together on the history of London from the pictures we took there."

Holly continued, "Then we went to Buckingham palace, but we didn't make it in time for the changing of the guard. That's too bad; we have to see that some time soon. Then we grabbed a quick lunch and headed over to Kensington Palace. Didn't we walk through the gardens there? I can't remember."

"Well that's because you slipped when we started walking down some steps. You hit your head on a stone planter, and then tumbled down to the bottom. You passed out and I couldn't get you to wake up. You scared me half to death. Luckily we were near hospital; I called an ambulance and they got you into A&amp;E right away. And here we are.

"There was concern that there might be some brain damage or a skull fracture, but the scans didn't reveal any haemorrhaging or any obvious damage. You never did wake up last night and they made me go home, or back to your place as it was ... you know ... since I wasn't a relative. I was worried that you might be still unconscious this morning, but when I called, they told me you had revived and that you had been moved to this ward. I came as soon as I could after the start of visiting hours, but I had a little trouble finding you. This ward is a little off the beaten track, so to speak."

Holly wasn't happy with Louisa and wasn't shy about telling her. "I wish you had come earlier. I was so confused when I woke up and found myself in hospital. All they would tell me was that I had a fall and they were monitoring my condition. It was terrible being here all alone without any friends."

"Well, I came as soon as I could and I'm here now."

"Don't leave me again."

"I'll be here all afternoon", Louisa reassured her. "I'm still planning on meeting Randi and the gang for dinner tonight, and I promised I'd meet someone for drinks before then."

"Who are you meeting for drinks? Is it Dennis? You know he's finally found someone don't you, and he's engaged? Just tell him you have to stay with me until I'm settled for the night and you'll see him at dinner", Holly demanded.

"No, it's not Dennis; I haven't thought about him in ages; nice to know he's found someone to take care of him. I hope he will take care of her as well. No, it's not one of our old group. It's someone else actually, someone I met earlier today in hospital"

"Someone you just met? Not even an old friend? You're going to leave me early to meet up with someone you just met? Well that's just absurd! You can't; you can't". Holly was insistent.

"Holly", Louisa used her head teacher voice and looked at her friend sternly. "I will be here all afternoon and then I am leaving at 6. I will be back right at the start of visiting hours tomorrow morning, and if you're lucky, maybe they will let you go home. In the meantime, you need to rest and get better."

"Yes Miss", Holly replied in her best chastised schoolgirl voice, casting her eyes downward in mock submission. Then she laughed. "Oh it hurts to laugh. Okay, now tell me who he is"

"What makes you think it's a 'he'?"

"Why else would you be prevaricating?"

"I'm not prevaricating."

"Then tell me why you're so intent on meeting him for drinks."

"Okay, okay. His name is Martin. I met him while I was trying to find you this morning. He offered to guide me over here, and it turns out he spent his summers in Portwenn when he was growing up. I know his aunt who still lives there. He's very nice, and I think he might be a surgeon. I heard them paging him to one of the theatres."

"He's probably married with six kids."

"Maybe, but it can't hurt to meet up for one drink and talk about my village. It could be fun."

"Or he could be a letch. Be careful."

"He seems nice enough, but you're right. I'll be careful."

"Alright, permission granted this one time, but you have to tell me all about it. And don't forget to tell him how wonderful I am, just in case he's single or he has some single friends for me. You know how hard it is to find eligible men these days"

With that they went on to other subjects, lamenting the end of their tourist days and gossiping about all their friends whom Louisa would get to see at dinner that night.

. . . . . To be continued

**I'd like to thank all the readers who have left reviews so far. Your thoughts and comments are much appreciated. Thank you.**


	4. Chapter 4

Louisa sat across from Martin, staring at the menu in the very posh restaurant where all the staff seemed to know him. She had been somewhat disappointed when he had called at 5:30 yesterday afternoon cancelling their meet-up. Something about an accident and having to stitch up the survivors. He had been very apologetic and offered to take her to dinner tonight as recompense. Holly's doctors had told her she would be in hospital at least one more night, and since Louisa did not have any plans, she accepted Martin's offer. She thought, "_Well...why not; it's better than sitting here with Holly eating take out from the hospital canteen._"

Early the next morning before going to spend the day with Holly, she used Holly's home computer to research this "Martin Ellingham". There were all sorts of papers and medical articles that he had written, none of which made any sense to her, but he seemed to be highly regarded if the bios accompanying the conference brochures at which he had presented were to be believed. Some of the articles and brochures offered an accompanying picture which she studied to try to get a sense of the man. He was evidently a man of great gravitas, austere even. She thought him handsome if in an unconventional way and he was relatively young at just 41 years of age. Holly had asked her nurse if she knew anything about him. The nurse confirmed that he was on staff as a surgeon, specializing in vascular surgery, that he was considered a brilliant surgeon. When Holly pressed her for more personal information, did he have a family and such, the nurse just looked at her with an odd expression and replied, "No idea", shaking her head as she left the room.

When Louisa met Martin in the hospital's main lobby, she almost didn't recognize him out of his hospital scrubs. He raised his hand to signal her as she left the elevator. When she realized that the distinguished man in the impeccable dark suit, with stylish cuff links on the French cuffs of his perfectly pressed white shirt, all set off with a tastefully patterned red tie was the man with whom she had a dinner date, she caught her breath. "_Oh my_" she thought. "_I certainly __hope__ he isn't married with six kids._"

"Good evening", he greeted her. "How is your friend doing?" He had looked up Holly's records, and knew perfectly well that it was likely that Holly would be discharged tomorrow, but he didn't want to let on.

"She's improving. She's hoping to go home tomorrow; she just has to make it through the night without any problems ... So how was your day?"

"Routine"

She wasn't sure how to respond to that, so she asked him about yesterday's accident victims, "So ... were you able to stitch up the survivors last night?"

Looking confused, he replied, "What? Oh ... yesterday evening, yes. Bad accident, motor bike and a minivan, lots of broken bones and severed arteries. Sorry I had to cancel on you."

"But the victims are going to be alright? You were able to save them?" She was genuinely concerned.

"Em, all but the passenger on the motor bike. She had lost too much blood even before she reached A&amp;E. I don't know why people won't wear helmets", he started to rant. "She was probably too concerned about messing her hair to worry about dying in an accident."

"That's a bit harsh, don't you think? Maybe she couldn't afford a helmet or perhaps she thought it was just a quick hop out to dinner and she didn't think she needed to bother with it. She didn't think." Louisa was appalled at his attitude and pulled away from him a step or two.

"Of course she didn't think; people never do", he almost shouted. Martin looked over at her and saw the alarm in her face and realized she was horrified at his outburst. This evening wasn't starting out well; best to pull back and tread more gently; she wasn't one of the A&amp;E staff who saw the results of such carelessness day in and day out. "It was unfortunate", he added in a more normal tone, "Perhaps I sound callused or uncaring, but if you saw what we see every day, the after effects of such carelessness, you would grow frustrated as well. How can we prevent such casualties if people won't take precautions?"

"Ah, I hadn't thought of it that way. So you see this kind of thing often?" She looked at him with more understanding.

"Almost every day". He needed to change the conversation. He didn't want to talk about his work; he wanted to learn more about her. "I made a reservation at a restaurant just a little over a mile away and thought we could catch a cab" he said as he flagged one down.

London traffic really was horrible; that mile took almost 15 minutes. They passed a few landmarks which Martin pointed out, providing a brief commentary on each, and soon pulled up to a charming little restaurant tucked into a residential street near a secluded park. Martin paid the cabbie, jumped out and opened her door before she realized they had arrived. "Oh this is just lovely Martin", Louisa exclaimed as she admired the flowers spilling out of the window boxes lining the front of the establishment.

'Yes." He held the door open and motioned for her to enter.

"Ah, Mr. Ellingham, so nice to see you this evening. Let me take you to your table". The maitre d' greeted Martin with a slight smile raising his eyebrows to indicate to Martin his approval of his beautiful dinner companion. Giving a slight bow to Louisa, he addressed her directly, "Miss, follow me please", and he escorted them to a table in a secluded corner of the restaurant. They had barely settled when their waiter, Charles, brought water glasses, a basket of crusty whole meal bread and menus. "Can I get you something to drink?"

Martin tilted his head toward Louisa, indicating she should order. As she perused the wine menu, she selected a glass of her favourite white and looked up at Martin, who said, "I'll just have water ...for the moment".

"This is a charming restaurant, Martin"

"Yes, I have always found the meals here to be of a high nutritional value. They use the freshest ingredients and the chef prepares each dish using herbs, spices, and quality oils to ensure his cuisine is healthy as well as delicious. I hope you will like it."

After they had placed their order and the waiter had brought their salads, Martin asked Louisa if she had always lived in Portwenn.

"Yes, I was born in Portwenn and grew up there. My father was a fisherman and Mum worked in the school, then in the souvenir shops during the summer."

"Ah, she was a teacher then just like you?"

"Em ... well, no. She really didn't have much of an education; there were few opportunities in Cornwall when she was growing up. She was the lunch lady, in charge of preparing school lunches." "_It was a good thing too_", she added to herself. "_After Dad died, most of our suppers were the lunch leftovers, but Martin doesn't need to know that_."

"But you went to University, yes?"

"Yes, I had wonderful teachers when I was young who encouraged me to work hard so I was able to get a place in college here in London. It was a bit challenging working part-time jobs and keeping up with my class work, but I was determined to better myself. I taught in London for a few years after uni, then moved back to teach in the local primary school. The school governors gave me the chance to prove myself last year when the old head moved on. Its hard work, but I love it, making our school the best in the area. It's very rewarding."

"I'm sure you were the best candidate for the job". Martin remembered how she was the best candidate when he was forced to sit on the interview panel in his dream. Of course reality may have been completely different, but the woman sitting across from him seemed very well educated, self assured and competent. She probably was the best candidate for the job. "Being head of the school, I imagine that you are involved in all aspects of village life."

She laughed, "You can't even begin to imagine!" and she was off, telling him all about the challenges facing the village and how it affected her students. He was more than happy to listen to her and responded only with the occasional grunt or well placed "Yes" in order to indicate his interest. She was lovely and animated and he felt himself being drawn happily into her world, even smiling gently when she laughed.

They had both finished their meals and the waiter had brought the desserts menu when she exclaimed, "Oh - here I am, monopolizing the conversation without letting you get a word in. Please tell me something about yourself."

"Nothing much to tell really. Born here in London, went to boarding school at age six, then attended medical school, got my surgical training at Imperial. I've been a surgeon for the past twelve years and I lead a team of senior registrars at St. Mary's as well.*"

"No hobbies or outside interests, then?"

"I repair antique clocks and enjoy the occasional concert, but my career is very demanding if I am to keep up with the latest techniques and do the best for my patients."

"Um, how much longer are you in London?" Perhaps he could arrange to see her again before she left.

"I was planning to leave the day after tomorrow. Term time starts in just two weeks and I need to get back and make sure the school is ready for the students, hold tours for the new students and their parents, all that sort of thing. If Holly is released tomorrow as planned, I can help get her home and settled before I leave. If not, I may stay an extra day to help her out, but I really do have to get back. Of course I really didn't plan on spending the last three or four days of my holiday in hospital nursing a friend, but that's okay. I'm sure she would have done the same for me."

As Martin was settling up the bill, Louisa commented to the waiter how delicious the entire meal had been. She specially asked that he let the chef know how much they had enjoyed the meal. "Yes, very satisfactory", Martin added. Charles, their waiter, had served Mr. Ellingham before and knew that was high praise from his guest and knew that his tip would be very satisfactory as well. He thanked them and bid them a good evening as they exited the restaurant.

It was still relatively early in the evening and they could hear music coming from the park nearby. "Oh, let's go over to the park and wander for a bit, Louisa suggested. "It's so pleasant this evening. I haven't been able to enjoy these impromptu concerts that happen so frequently here in London."

Rather than sit on one of the benches, they strolled around the paths admiring the summer flowers spilling out of the beds lining the walks. The small band was playing show tunes, many from the musical Camelot and Louisa hummed along, occasionally singing softly, as she loved those old show tunes.

"You have a lovely singing voice. Have you had professional training", Martin couldn't help remarking.

"Oh, no, but thank you," she blushed. "Sometimes I just can't help myself when I hear these old tunes. You know legend has it that King Arthur was born in Cornwall and that Camelot was located in Cornwall as well, so these songs are special to me, make me think of home."

"Well, they are just legends, aren't they? There are many towns and cities that lay claim to Arthur, not just Cornwall. There are some scholars that speak of a tribal leader or king, if you wish, with a name that could be akin to Arthur, who may have had a power base in the west of England or Wales, but there is no real historical or archaeological evidence that he existed."

"That may well be, but in Tintagel they did find archaeological evidence of a settlement with the name "Arthur" inscribed there, and it is fun to speculate about it. And the song about Camelot still does make me think about home, no matter what the sceptics say," she responded defensively. She was nothing if not loyal to Cornwall and its claim to Arthur and didn't appreciate what felt like an historical lecture correcting her.

Fortunately Martin did not recognize the combative tone of her voice, and as he wasn't particularly interested in a conversation on the origins of the Arthurian legends, he took the opportunity to ask, "You are anxious to be home then?"

"Yes. As much as I enjoy the excitement of London, it will be nice to be back in my village". She was glad he had changed the subject. Although she was an expert on the history of Cornwall and its legends and myths, she felt it would be impolite to start an academic argument with a new acquaintance. She had enjoyed the evening thus far, and hoped there would be a time in the future for them to have that discussion.

"So", Louisa was still curious to find out more about Martin. "Did you always want to be a doctor?"

"Medicine is the family business; it's what we Ellingham's do."

"Your parents are doctors as well?"

"My father was a surgeon and my grandfather was an eminent physician in his time. I also have an aunt who is in medicine"

"Not Joan, I am pretty sure"

"No ... she was the family's black sheep and decided to marry a Cornish farmer. Just about killed my grandparents, or so I'm told. No, my Aunt Ruth, Joan's sister, is a psychiatrist, here in London."

"In private practice?"

"No…. Oh God!" He had just stepped in some dog's droppings. "Why can't people police their dogs? Don't they know the law requires pet owners to clean up after their disgusting animals? Oh God!" With a look of total revulsion on his face, he tried to clean the offending substance from his shoe in the grass at the edge of the walk.

Louisa looked on, somewhat amused, but sensing that a chuckle on her part would not be welcome, instead tried to sympathize. "Oh dear, how unfortunate. Some people are so inconsiderate. Here I have a tissue in my purse if that will help." And she offered Martin a packet of tissues. She found a bench nearby and sat down to rest. She continued to hum along with the music and watched while he meticulously cleaned his shoe.

"So you were telling me about your aunt who is a psychiatrist." She patted the bench indicating he should sit next to her and he perched on the edge still looking at his shoe, turning it this way and that to ensure he had removed all of the noxious excrement.

"Yes, Aunt Ruth, she works at Broadmoor. She assesses the criminally insane."

"Oh..." Louisa found that unsettling. "Are your parents here in London as well?"

"No." He definitely didn't want to discuss them and he did have several procedures scheduled for early the next morning, and he needed to finish cleaning his shoes. "Em... It's getting late for me I'm afraid. I must rise very early tomorrow."

"It's been a lovely evening, but I understand." Louisa stood up, twirled around, and pointed. "There's a tube stop just the next block over..."

"No, let me see you back to your friend's home", he took her elbow as he hailed a cab.

Louisa gave the cabbie Holly's address and they settled into an amiable silence. Aware that his shoe still reeked of dog faeces, he apologized. "So sorry about the smell"

"What smell?" she asked as she sniffed the air.

Pointing down he replied "My shoe. I couldn't get all of it removed". He reddened slightly with embarrassment, which she found charming.

"Well I can't smell it, so don't worry." All the while she was thinking. "_What a little old lady he can be. Hard to believe he and Joan are related. Joan would shrug that off without a thought"._

He hated to end the evening, but he did need sleep to be on top of his game the next morning; he also wanted to see her again and so once again he pulled some courage from wherever it usually hid when he was interested in someone, and said in as casual a voice as he could muster," If you find yourself here longer, I could escort you to some of the more interesting historical sites here in London, or perhaps to a museum or play?"

"That's very thoughtful of you. I'll let you know. And you will let me know if you come down to Cornwall to see Joan?"

"Yes."

They pulled up to Holly's home, and Martin jumped out to walk her to the door, signalling the driver to wait. "I'm sorry that I have to cut our evening short, but I have several procedures scheduled early tomorrow morning."

"Oh no, no. That's perfectly understandable. I really enjoyed our evening. Thank you for inviting me. Good night" and she extended her hand.

With a shy smile, he took her hand in both of his and gave it a gentle shake. "Yes, I had a nice evening as well. Thank you for joining me. Good night"

He continued to hold her hand, gazing at her as if he wanted to tell her something, but holding back. She looked up at him and smiled and then pulled her hand away to turn the key in the lock, "Good night, then."

"Yes, good night."

***Author's note: In S1, E1, Martin tells the interview panel that he led a team of senior registrars at St John's. In S1, E2, Adrian Pitts quips that Martin abused himself and others at St. Mary's. And in S3, E5, Holly tells Louisa that Martin and Johnny Bamford were consultants together at St. Thomas'. Given the inconsistencies, I have chosen to put Martin, in my story, at St. Mary's because their vascular surgery unit is world-renowned. **


	5. Chapter 5

Holly was discharged the next day, and Louisa thought it was a good thing too. She was driving her nurses mad with her constant complaints and demands. The food was terrible, cold and tasteless; the internet service was unreliable; it was too noisy on the ward, and on and on. Louisa had brought a clean change of clothes for Holly to wear home, a lovely casual outfit that she, Louisa, would have been thrilled to call her own, but Holly was not pleased. "Why would you choose that for me to wear? The slacks are no longer fashionable, too baggy for this year's look, and the colours are dated as well. I've been meaning to take it to the second-hand shop, but just hadn't made the time to clean out my closet".

"I had thought that something with a little more room would be more comfortable given the bruises on your backside. Well, it's what you've got; I'm not going back to find something else. Would you rather wear the hospital gown home? We could tie it up quite nicely to preserve your modesty, pretty little bow? ... hm?" Louisa shot back at her friend, all the while thinking. "_Honestly, I love her to bits, but she is such a pain in the arse sometimes_".

"Give it here. I'll just have to make do." Holly took the outfit and shook out the slacks eyeing them critically. With a loud sigh, she pulled the curtain separating her bed from the rest of the ward to ensure her privacy and started to dress. "Can you make sure to gather up all my discharge papers and flowers and such? Thanks, you really are a dear putting up with me".

"Right" Rolling her eyes, Louisa slipped through the curtain and went to rustle up some boxes to put the flowers and balloons that all of Holly's friends and colleagues had sent. Holly had only been three days in hospital, but she had received enough flowers to fill up several florist shops. She must know half the people in London. Louisa wasn't sure where they would put them in Holly's flat, but, again, that wasn't her problem.

She managed to get Holly, herself, and all of Holly's "stuff" into a cab and then out again and into her flat. Fortunately they did not encounter any of Holly's many friends or acquaintances. Louisa would never have heard the end of it if anyone had seen Holly attired in last year's fashions; she had an excuse for the condition of her face, but it would be impossible to explain wearing last year's colour palette. As to the bruises and contusions on her face, Holly had insisted that she was not to have visitors while in hospital. She was hoping the discoloration and swelling would subside before she had to face the world the following week.

Once Holly had changed into something more fashionable and they had settled with a hot cuppa, Holly started in on Louisa's "date" with Martin the night before. "Okay, dish. What happened last night? Tell me everything".

"Not much to tell really. We took a cab from hospital to a lovely little restaurant near St James Park. He obviously goes there frequently because they greeted him by name and were very attentive. The food was wonderful; you could tell it was extremely fresh; and as Martin pointed out, it was very healthy too. He seems to be very health conscious, but I really didn't learn much else about him.

"He is very quiet and serious. As best I could fathom, his life revolves around his work, not much else. His father and grandfather were both doctors and he has an aunt who is a psychiatrist at Broadmoor."

Holly's eyes widened.

Louisa nodded slightly. "Yeah, I know; kind of creepy. Oh, and he likes to repair antique clocks!"

"Oh, ho," Holly threw back her head and crowed. "So, did he try to lure you back to his flat to 'show you his clocks'?"

"No ..." Louisa grinned at her friend and shook her head. "He was a perfect gentleman. We walked around the park and listened to a concert. Then he took me home, quite early; I was back before half nine. There was one moment when I worried he might try to make a move, but he didn't. He walked me up to your door and we shook hands, and he held onto my hand just a little too long, like he wanted to say something. But then we said goodnight and he left."

"So you didn't invite him in for a drink?"

"No. It really wasn't that kind of date. Plus he said he had to be in theatre early this morning"

"Doesn't sound like you'll see him again if he took you home so early."

"Hard to say. He offered to show me around the city if I were here longer and he promised to call me when he visits Portwenn."

"So I assume there isn't a wife and six kiddies tucked away in the suburbs somewhere?"

"I don't think so. He didn't mention a wife or children, but he does wear what appears to be a wedding band on his right ring finger, which is odd. I'll have to ask him about it if he comes to visit in Portwenn".

"That is peculiar. Usually if a man is cheating on his wife, he hides the ring in his coat pocket, not in plain sight on his other hand. But you never know; I'd be careful if I were you. You remember that I asked my nurse if she knew whether he had a family".

"Yes, and I heard her say she had no idea. Did you find out anything else whilst I was gone"

"Well I asked my night nurse and she responded the same way...brilliant surgeon and no idea about his personal life. Although I could have sworn I heard the nurse mutter under her breath as she left, 'Mr. Ellingham married? Can't even imagine it'. Or something like that. You have to wonder. Like I said, I'd tread carefully until I got to know him well. So do you think you can lure him down to Cornwall"?

"As I said, his aunt lives near Portwenn; I see her frequently around the village. I'm thinking I may pop in on her and see what else I can find out about him."


	6. Chapter 6

Martin was in a quandary. On the one hand, he had thoroughly enjoyed his evening with Louisa and he wanted to see her again, so much so that he'd found himself daydreaming about her almost constantly. On the other hand, he had been and still was content with his orderly life in London, immersed in his surgical career, his quiet evenings at home working on his clocks, and the occasional outing to the theatre or symphony. It satisfied his soul, or so he had thought. Did he really want to risk his tranquillity by chasing after a young woman who was bound to complicate his life in ways that he could only begin to imagine? His Portwenn dream life had been chaotic after James' birth when he and Louisa moved in together, and chaotic it had remained even after they had gone through all that gruelling therapy.

How much younger was she? He did some research and based on the information on the Portwenn Primary site, he estimated she was age 32, nine years younger than he. Was it foolish of him to even think she could be interested in a dull, set-in-his-ways middle aged bachelor like himself? He was aware that he had certain attributes that could be considered desirable despite his unpleasant demeanour and social awkwardness. He was of a higher social class than Louisa and that might hold some attraction for her, but the lines between the classes were more blurred these days and not likely to mean much. He was a doctor and even more importantly, he was a surgeon. Many women were attracted to doctors, especially surgeons. He knew from experience how that went; women throwing themselves at him, sometimes even showing up in his bed, always anxious to please him until they really got to know him at which point they either tried to change him or dumped him for a new conquest. He'd actually fallen for a few of them only to experience some hurt in the end. It was better to avoid those types at all costs. But he didn't think this Louisa was one of those women. After all he was the one who had initiated contact, not her.

Of course the whole idea that she could be attracted to him was ridiculous. He was not a loveable person. Only his Aunty Joan, and occasionally Aunt Ruth, had ever shown him any affection. Certainly his parents hadn't wanted him; he was a nuisance; they never actually said so to his face, but they spent as little time with him as possible, and they hadn't spoken with him in years.

Wasn't that a big part of his "therapy", accepting that someone could love him despite his difficult ways. But that therapy didn't actually happen did it? It was all part of his dream, a figment of his imagination. Of course he reminded himself that dreams can have their basis in one's subconscious, in all the information and stimuli that one encounters over the years. He specialised in vascular surgery, but he was also a student of all the different fields of medicine. For a surgeon, even a highly specialized surgeon such as himself, it was important to understand all bodily systems and how they interacted with one another. This included the brain and how problems with mental health could affect the recovery of his patients. He had studied various types of mental health therapy and was conversant in psychiatry. As a plus it enabled him to talk shop with his Aunt Ruth on occasion. Perhaps some of his dream therapy had not been far off the mark. Perhaps he should consult with Ruth about his own situation.

After spending the evening with her, he determined that he had seen Louisa in A&amp;E the afternoon she had come in with Holly. He remembered hearing someone speaking in a Cornish accent, and when he turned his head in that direction, he had caught a glimpse of a beautiful young woman with long dark hair. He paused for a very short moment to glance at her, and then hurried on his way. He had been called to evaluate an accident victim needing emergency surgery, and there was no time to spare. After he had stabilized the patient and he was on his way to theatre, he noticed that she was still there, telling the reception clerks her name and giving them information about her injured friend. It was warmer than usual in A&amp;E and she had pulled her hair up into a long ponytail, and he was struck by how lovely she was. He stopped to stare, ignoring the chaos swarming about him, straining to hear what she was saying. He caught just enough of her words to pique his interest, but soon he recalled his patient and went to prepare for surgery. In less than a minute, he had forgotten her, or so he had thought. Obviously she had made a big impression on his subconscious since she figured prominently in his dream.

This was ridiculous, all this obsessing over some Cornish schoolteacher. Could it be what they call a midlife crisis. Not likely.

He was not meant to be a family man; his life was in medicine; that was where he could do the most good for mankind. By the end of the week following their dinner, he had all but talked himself out of any interaction with Louisa. He really knew nothing about her and doubted that she would be anything like "his" Louisa. Despite his best efforts however, she continued to haunt his dreams at night and fill his thoughts during the day. Whenever he caught a glimpse of a young woman that might be her, he found himself making an excuse to look more carefully, just in case. He was certain that this obsession would end soon, or so he hoped.

Then last night Aunty Joan called. Evidently Louisa had been to visit and had mentioned her encounter with him. "Martin", she burbled. "Louisa said that you were planning to come down to visit me. I can't tell you how excited I am. So when can you come? It's been much too long."

Her call had surprised him, and unable to find an excuse, he had committed to a visit the week-end after next. He was really looking forward to seeing his Aunt whom he thought of with great affection. She had been the most supportive of all his relatives, and he had adored her as a child. Ellinghams were notoriously undemonstrative, but Aunty Joan was always there with a hug for him in the morning when he arose, and at night when she tucked him into bed and often during the day "just because you are you" she would tell him. He had loved spending summers and Christmas breaks with her and Uncle Phil, but that had all stopped when he was twelve. No one ever told him why; he had assumed it was because he had become a nuisance. He was pleasantly surprised when Aunty Joan had welcomed him and Edith so warmly when they had visited during a short break while in medical school. After that, he had only been back that one time for her sixtieth birthday, a quick weekend trip with Aunt Ruth.

As he thought about that visit, he wondered if Louisa had been one of the well-wishers. He hadn't noticed her there, but then he had slipped away soon after the guests had started to arrive, and the din had become unbearable. He had walked over to the cliffs, and looked out over the water and remembered his childhood holidays, the happy memories of those times warming him. Yes, they were happy times.

He had been remiss in his failure to visit Aunty Joan more often. It was not because he didn't want to see her. He had been focused on establishing his career to the exclusion of all else; now that he had secured a respected position in his profession, he could take a few days to visit. He decided that he would catch a train down to Bodmin station right after morning consultations on Friday and rent a car. He would spend Friday evening with Joan. He thought he would explore the towns around Portwenn on Saturday, maybe even check out the ruins at Tintagel that Louisa had talked about. He thought he would take Aunty Joan out to brunch on Sunday and perhaps wander the coastal path Sunday afternoon. He planned to take the train back to London to arrive in time for rounds Monday evening and to prepare for Tuesday morning procedures.

He found that he was really looking forward to his trip, but he thought it best that he avoid Louisa. It would still be early in the school term, and it was likely she would not have any time to visit with him. He might catch a glimpse of her while in the village or they might run into each other and exchange pleasantries, but no need to spend any time together. Then unexpectedly she called him on the Tuesday evening before his trip.

"Hello, Martin? I ran into Joan this morning in the village and she said you were coming down this weekend."

"Yes."

"I was wondering if I could show you around the village; maybe take a walk up the coastal path if the weather permits. What do you think?"

"_Blast it_", he thought scowling, but he was also tempted and decided it would be rude to decline. "I don't want to intrude on your time. Won't you be busy with the school?"

"It's the weekend, Martin. No school on Saturday or Sunday. I may have to do some preparation on Sunday evening, but I'm free all day Saturday. How about it? I could pick you up around noon or one."

"No need. I plan to rent a car whilst I am down there. I could drive in and meet you. Are you sure you don't have anything better to do?"

"Nonsense. I want to repay you for the lovely evening you treated me to whilst I was in London. Give me your e-mail address and I'll send you directions to my cottage...and don't forget your hiking gear. The coastal path can get rocky and we may want to explore; it can be a bit tricky without good footwear".

"Well, if you really want to."

"Wouldn't you enjoy it?" She was beginning to think that he wasn't interested in seeing her. Perhaps she had misinterpreted his attentions on their dinner date, which is how she was thinking of it nowadays. At the time, it had seemed to her that he couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

"Yes, yes, I would." "_Not so sure about the rocky part of the coastal path though._" He added to himself.

"Good, then it's settled. I'll see you around half twelve. We can grab a bite at the pub and then set off. What's your e-mail address?"

After he gave her his address and had hung up, he started to feel a mixture of excited anticipation at spending time with her and an overwhelming sense of anxiety that things would go wrong. He didn't relish lunch at the pub or meeting all the villagers that they were bound to run into; making small talk was never something at which he excelled or enjoyed. Maybe if he didn't bugger it up too badly, he could talk her into dinner somewhere quiet away from the village. He'd have to research quality restaurants in the area before he left...and purchase some hiking boots.


	7. Chapter 7

Louisa returned to the village the day after Holly was released from hospital, and was immediately overwhelmed with work getting school ready for the new term; she'd had no time to visit with Joan and ask her about Martin. On a quick lunch break one afternoon she happened to run into Joan on the Platt long enough to mention that she had met Martin and wanted to ask Joan over to learn more about him, but not until term time had settled in. Joan was thrilled to hear news of her nephew and called Louisa a week into the school term to invite her over for tea the following Sunday afternoon.

Louisa had known Joan as long as she could remember and now considered her a friend. Both were very involved in village life and could always find something to discuss whenever they saw each other, but they rarely sat down together over a cuppa, just the two of them.

"So how did you happen to meet Martin? Oh, and tell me how he looked; did he look healthy?" Joan wanted to hear all about her nephew and to know more about this acquaintance.

"I would say he looked healthy, and very distinguished, quite posh. You'll be happy to know that he was a perfect gentleman. I haven't been out with anyone that gallant in ages, maybe never." Louisa raised her eyebrows and grinned.

She continued. "So ... how did we meet? Well, I was visiting my friend Holly for a week. I don't know if I've told you about her. She and I roomed together whilst in university, in London. We had arranged to spend the week visiting all the tourist sites, but she was hurt the second day out. We called an ambulance and they took her to hospital. Turns out, it was the same one where Martin works. She had been placed in the HDU the night she was admitted, but had been moved to another ward by the time I got to hospital the next day. I was standing at the hospital directory trying to determine how to get to her ward when Martin walked up and offered to help me. He was very nice, and…"

Joan had to interrupt her. "Really? Marty offered to help you? That doesn't sound like the Marty I know. He can be rather reserved and that's putting it mildly."

"Yes, I suppose he can be. But that morning, he was very courteous and helpful. He asked me about my friend and recognized my Cornish accent and we got to discussing Cornwall and how he spent his summers here when he was a child. We ended up going out to dinner the next evening, to a very nice restaurant I might say."

"Yes, Marty would be very particular about where he dined." Joan tried to hide her surprise at Martin asking Louisa to dinner. Everything Louisa had said of Martin contradicted what she thought she understood of his character, painfully shy, aloof, and antisocial. Perhaps his professional success had bolstered his confidence in other parts of his life.

"I have to admit I did most of the talking, so you are definitely right about his being reserved. That's one of the reasons I wanted to get together with you. He really didn't have much to say about himself. What can you tell me? What kind of person is he? Does he have any family? That sort of thing"

Joan slid her forefinger along her cheek in thought. "Ah, you mean, 'is he married?'" She glanced at Louisa with a twinkle in her eye. "Well not that I know of, and I'm fairly certain he would tell me or Ruth. He was engaged once in medical school, but that didn't work out. She went abroad for her career. Good thing too; she was a bit overbearing if you ask me; wouldn't have made him happy. No, Marty always wanted to be a doctor, and I think he is one of those men who are married to their careers. And he is very successful, a credit to the family name, or so I hear."

"Yes, the hospital nurses we asked all spoke very highly of his skills. He told me that his father and grandfather were both doctors and that his aunt was a psychiatrist at Broadmoor...that's your sister, right?"

"Right, my sister Ruth. I was the only one who rebelled, married a Cornish farmer. Actually this farm belonged to my Uncle Dick, my father's brother, another renegade from the Ellingham clan. When he died, he left it to me and Christopher, Martin's father. Christopher wasn't interested in farming, and said that Phil and I could have it, and I've been here ever since."

"It's funny. When we were talking about his family, I asked if he saw his parents often, and he said 'no', and then changed the subject. It was odd."

"Ah...Marty's parents, the less said the better, in my opinion. No warm fuzzies there. I don't think he and his parents have spoken in years."

"Oh dear. How sad. My mom and I certainly have our issues, and I don't see her much now that she's moved to Spain, or Portugal, or Italy, or wherever she is at the moment, but I do love her, and we still speak occasionally. She did her best to raise Alan and me especially after Dad died, and she did make a loving home for us, at least until I went off to college."

Joan continued. "I should let Martin tell you about his parents himself, but suffice it to say, I don't think they really wanted to be bothered with a child...let the nanny take care of him until he was old enough to send off to boarding school and then to my farm for holidays. They spent as little time with him as they could. But he seems to have made a success of himself anyway. I do worry sometimes that he may be lonely."

"I can't believe what you've said about his parents and his childhood. No child should be raised like that. Makes me feel sorry for him."

"Well don't let him hear you say that. He is a very proud man and would never want anyone to feel sorry for him."

"Okay. I'll be careful not to pry too much."

She reached over the table for more tea and to take a chocolate biscuit. As she stirred sugar into her cup, she said, "I may have talked him into coming down to Cornwall to visit. He seemed interested in seeing you, said it had been a long time. But I haven't heard from him, so I don't know if he'll actually come. Maybe he was just humouring me, or being polite?"

"I'll give him a call. He may think I'm too busy for him or some such nonsense and need a push."

Joan thought about it for a moment. "When he was twelve, his father decided it was time for Marty to focus on his studies full time and stopped his visits to the farm. I argued with Christopher, telling him that everyone needs a break, but I'm afraid that just made him more determined. He was always a stubborn arse. I always worried that Marty might have thought that I didn't want him, that he was too much trouble. And he's only been down here once or twice since then."

"_What a sad story, such a terrible father." _Louisa thought to herself. It was sad hearing Joan's memories and she tried to comfort her. "I think he would like to come. He spoke very fondly of you. If he does decide to come, let me know. I owe him a dinner, if nothing else"

Joan grabbed a biscuit and then changed the subject."So tell me how you and Michael are getting on these days. Getting serious?"

"Oh Joan. I don't know. I am really fond of him, but I'm just not sure if he is "the one", you know? He's pressing me to take it to the next level, but I just don't see any future in it."

"What do you mean 'take it to the next level'?"

"You know...spend the night, that sort of thing."

"You mean you haven't slept with him yet. Why ever not? You've been seeing each other for how long now, almost a year? What are you waiting for?"

"I just don't want to take that step unless I think there may be a future for us, and you know he's never made a secret of his intentions to leave Portwenn when his contract is up at the end of next year. He'll be moving back to America. He's hinted that I could move back with him, but I don't want to leave Cornwall let alone England!"

Louisa paused in thought and Joan chimed in, "I know you love the village, as do I, but it's not like you have family ties keeping you here. You really are free to go wherever you like."

'Yes, but here is where I like. Portwenn is home. Maybe if I really did love him, I'd follow him back to America. But, you know, there is something about him that isn't quite right for me, although I can't put my finger on it. And until I'm sure, I just don't want to let sex confuse me."

She continued thinking out loud, "After Dennis and I divorced, I dated a number of different men, and slept with several of them after just a few dates, but I found that really didn't work for me; too traumatic when it ended. I decided that it was best to take it slow and save that step for when I found a man I thought I could have a future with. It's just that that man hasn't shown up yet."

"Unless you are looking for a farmer or fisherman, good men are hard to find here in the back of beyond, and you're not getting any younger. You may have to look a little further afield". Joan raised her eyebrows suggestively. She couldn't help thinking that maybe she could play matchmaker between Louisa and Martin. Maybe Marty had improved his social skills in the past 20 years; his encounter with Louisa gave her hope, not a lot, but some.

"Yes, I suppose you are right. I'd really like to have a family, which I would love to raise here in Portwenn. But I could accept moving to another part of England as long as I could keep a cottage here and come down for holidays and long weekends. But it would have to be the right man."

"Keep your eyes open then."

**Author's note: HDU stands for High Dependency Unit for patients that require more care than is available on a general ward, but who do not require the critical care provided in ICU, and intensive care unit.**


	8. Chapter 8

Martin pulled his rental car into the yard at Havenhurst farm. Joan had been keeping watch out the window as she prepared an early supper for them both. She couldn't wait to see her little Marty; he was the closest she had ever had to having a child. She ran out the door and paused for a minute just to take all of him in. It was hard to believe that the sensitive and shy little boy she had loved and nurtured all those summers ago was the same tall distinguished man in the bespoke suit who unfolded himself from the luxury sedan that had parked just outside her kitchen window. He looked wonderful, if a little pale. A weekend in the Cornish countryside would certainly put some colour in those cheeks. But for now, she needed to feel him in her arms, and to that goal she rushed to give him a hug. "Little Marty, it's so good to see you." She grinned up at him as she hugged him again. "But you're not my 'little' Marty any more are you?"

"Aunty Joan" he responded with a slight smile as he returned her hug. He turned to lift his bag out of the boot, and as they walked into the house, she said, "I've prepared a chicken for dinner just the way you liked it when you were little." They went into the house, and Martin sniffed, "Yes. Smells good."

As they entered the kitchen, Joan tilted her head towards the stairs and asked, "You do remember the way to your old room?"

"Of course" he replied as he jogged up the stairs to unpack for the weekend. As he put his things in the wardrobe, he couldn't help noticing how shabby the house had grown. Was it always like this and he hadn't noticed? The stair banister was wobbly, and some of the paper was peeling off the walls. And the plumbing in the bath creaked and sputtered when he went to use the toilet and wash up from the trip before dinner. He worried. It appeared that Aunty Joan wasn't able to keep up with repairs.

He looked out the window and saw the fields of vegetables and grains, almost ready for harvest. He had never been here this time of year. As he stared out the window, he began to see the farm with the eyes of a ten year old boy, the old tractor, the chicken coop, the sheep out in the fields, the great vegetable patch, and the fields of grains spreading out to the sea, and Uncle Phil walking up to the house for the midday meal.

He couldn't remember the first time he came to the farm, but he knew the story. It was the summer when he was three, and he was to stay with his Aunty Joan for the next four weeks. His parents had scheduled a long vacation and his nanny had to go visit a sick relative, so Joan had volunteered to care for him while she was gone. He had come down with his nanny and his father; they left after the first night and he cried when his nanny left. Joan picked him up in her arms still sobbing and took him out to the barn to see the new kittens; they were just a few days old and still had their eyes closed. He watched as they pushed against their mother's belly with their paws as they nursed. Aunty Joan had picked up one of the kittens and put it in his arms, showing him how to stroke its soft fur. The feel of the little kitten wiggling in his arms stopped his tears and set him to giggling. She took him to see the other farm animals and then packed a picnic lunch for them to take out to the cliffs where they had looked for butterflies. Except for the times that Uncle Phil took him out on the tractor, he spent the rest of that visit by Aunty Joan's side; she called him her little shadow. And he cried when his nanny came down to take him back to London.

That trip had been so successful that his parents arranged with Joan for Martin to visit again the following summer and then on school holidays as well when he went off to boarding school. He could remember asking Aunty Joan if he could just stay with her instead of going back to school. She had hugged him tightly and told him she would love to have him stay, but that it was important to get a good education, and that his parents had chosen a good school for him to attend, better than the village school he would attend if he were to stay with her. The thought of his schooling pulled him out of his reverie. He had to admit that he had had a superior education; that was something he would have to research for his own children were he to have them.

He headed back down the stairs, glancing again at the peeling paint, and entered the kitchen where Joan had set out dinner. As they sat down to their meal, Joan exclaimed once again her pleasure with his visit, "I am so glad you've come. It's been so long. I think the last time was when you were in medical school and you brought that friend of yours...what was her name?"

"Edith". He looked down at his plate with a sour look. He certainly didn't want to discuss Edith, recently back from abroad to open her own fertility clinic and who seemed to be everywhere these days, always suggesting they go out to dinner or attend some concert. She even had the temerity to suggest they spend a weekend away together. So far he had managed to fend her off, but she seemed determined. She was never one for taking no for an answer. So he changed the subject. "I was here for your sixtieth birthday, if you remember."

"Ah yes, but that weekend was a whirlwind. We really didn't get to visit, just you and me, did we? Well you're here now and we'll be able to have a right good catch up, now won't we."

"Yes, I was focused on my career to the exclusion of everything else. It wasn't until I ran into Louisa at hospital that I realized how long it had been and that I really wanted to come down and see you."

"Ah, yes, Louisa. Lovely young woman. I'm so glad you ran into her. Will you see her while you are here?" She hoped he would take the time to visit and thought to herself, _"I might as well encourage him right from the start. Maybe something could come of this._"

"She wants to show me around the village. I'm meeting her at her cottage at half noon tomorrow."

Joan was delighted. "You'll certainly get a complete introduction to the village. Louisa knows every nook and cranny and every one of the folks who lives there."

"Great." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Well, behave yourself. I had hoped you wouldn't have inherited your parents' penchant for bluntness and unpleasantness. Do try to be somewhat polite with the villagers. Just smile and say 'nice to meet you'. You can do that, can't you? "

"I'm not a complete idiot you know. But I do say what I think. It's just better that way. Be honest and straightforward. No need to sugar coat things."

"Just don't embarrass Louisa. Be considerate of her feelings. When I spoke with her, she seemed pleased that she could show off the village to you, so don't be too critical. Remember the old adage…'if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all'."

"I'll keep your excellent advice in mind" he replied while rolling his eyes. In an effort to show her he did have some social graces, he added, "This chicken is delicious and I am really enjoying the fresh vegetables. Vegetables fresh from the garden are impossible to find in London."

"Thank you."

They spent the rest of the evening reminiscing about his childhood visits to the farm and his Uncle Phil, picnics in the farm fields looking over the sea and trips to the other towns in the area. Martin wanted to ask if they had ever taken a sail with a man named John Slater, but decided against it. Perhaps he was just a figment of his imagination, and if not, he didn't want to stir up memories for his aunt that might dampen her mood. He wanted her to know that it wasn't his decision to stop his visits, but she brought up the topic first.

"When you stopped coming to the farm, did your father tell you why?"

He looked down at his plate and told her, "He told me it was time to grow up, be a man, and focus on my studies." He considered whether to admit how distraught he had felt when his Dad first told him his visits to the farm were over, then decided he must say something, "I did miss you and Uncle Phil. But I suppose he was right; the extra work enabled me to attend medical school a year earlier than I would have otherwise."

"Mmm."

Joan seemed to be thinking about it, and Martin couldn't contain his curiosity." Was there another reason? Was it no longer convenient?"

Joan stared at him for a few moments, thinking. "No ... no... certainly not!" Then she paused before adding, "You know he and I fought about it. I wanted you to continue coming, but he was adamant. He thought I was spoiling you." She was angry, but then she changed her tone, smiled over at him across the table and added, "But now you're here, and I hope you will be back much more often."

He gave her a small smile back, "Yes."


	9. Chapter 9

When Louisa had e-mailed him with the directions to her cottage, he was disappointed that it was not White Rose cottage. The memory of the short time they had spent together in that cottage continued to fill him with joy. Even though he knew it was unrealistic of him to expect her to live there, he still had a hard time conceding that those memories weren't real. Her cottage was further up the hillside with no parking area so he had to use the car park and walk the short distance over to her cottage. He must stop comparing her life to that of his dream, and he vowed to start by accepting that she didn't live in White Rose cottage.

Aunty Joan had insisted that he take her some flowers from the garden, and he felt a bit foolish walking through the village carrying a bouquet of flowers for fear that at any moment a coven of teenage girls would sail by just looking for someone like him to ridicule. Fortunately there were no girls and few tourists, few people anywhere. Early October was undoubtedly a bit late in the season for tourists, and everyone else was inside for lunch. There was some activity down by the Platt and a few small groups were clustered outside the pub, but he didn't have to walk near either of those spots so he was able to slip up to her cottage unseen. He should have known however, that in Portwenn, nothing went unseen; there were eyes peeking out of curtains in several of the houses on his way. His arrival and his possible identity were being discussed around the village almost before he knocked on her door.

Louisa had also been on the lookout for him and opened the door just as he finished knocking. "Martin, it's so nice to see you." She greeted him warmly with her brilliant smile.

Martin nodded his head and thrust out the flowers in her direction, "For you". He looked at her expectantly.

She was a little taken aback at his abrupt manner, but recovered immediately and graciously thanked him, "Oh they are lovely. It was so thoughtful for you to bring me flowers". She was surprised that he would think to bring her anything at all. She certainly wasn't expecting flowers.

"They're from Joan" he added bluntly.

"Oh…." Then remembering her manners, she turned and stepped back from the door. "Please come in. Can I take your jacket?"

"No ... um ... I'm fine"

"I know I had suggested that we go to the pub for lunch, but I was thinking last night that the lunch offerings there are typical pub grub, not the healthiest food around. I thought perhaps we could just have a quiet lunch here in my cottage, maybe take a short tour around the village and then go for a walk along the cliff path. Is that alright?"

"Yes ... good."

Looking down at his polished black dress shoes, she asked, "You remembered to bring your hiking boots, yeah?"

"Yes, they are in the car. I should go back and get them." What he didn't tell her was that he had just bought them a few days ago along with the dark chinos and navy blazer he was wearing. When the clerk was ringing up his shoes in the camping and hiking outfitters where he found the boots, he pointed him in the direction of the sportswear department suggesting a new pair of jeans or some cargo pants for his outing. Jeans - never. Cargo pants? Martin didn't even know what those were. But he did realize that his usual attire might not be suitable for the challenges he might encounter on the coastal path. So he opted for a pair of dark pants in a rugged fabric and a navy blazer reminiscent of his public school uniform. Not his usual elegant attire, but he felt they were appropriate for the anticipated activity and he felt somewhat at home in them since they were similar to his standard suit. No chance of seeing anyone he knew down here anyway. He paired them with a dark grey dress shirt and a navy and maroon patterned tie and felt it was a good result.

"No, no we can get them later after lunch. And you could probably ditch the tie."

Seeing the horrified look on his face, she added, "or not. I thought it might be more comfortable."

"Hm." He grunted.

"Let me get these in some water," she motioned with the flowers he had brought and went to a cupboard to pull out a vase and started to fill it with water. "What can I get you to drink? Water, soft drink, cider? Or perhaps a cool glass of white wine?

"Water will be good."

"I made some simple chicken sandwiches on whole meal bread and a green salad. I hope you like it."

"Sounds adequate. I'm sure they will be quite nourishing – good choice."

"_Adequate_?" She thought, "_Adequate? I did go to some effort. I'd like to think it is more than adequate. Well, let's just get on with it._" "Yes, let me get lunch served up," she said more tartly than she had intended, and pulled a tray of sandwiches and the salad from the fridge.

"Can I help with anything?"

"Maybe get some glasses from the cupboard right there and pour the water for us both while I serve up the plates. It's still warm enough to dine outside. What do you think of eating out in the garden?" She nodded her head to the kitchen window which looked out over a small terrace bordered by a garden of flowers overflowing their beds. It was a riot of gold marigolds, blue asters, and rusty coloured chrysanthemums. A small table was set with two plain white plates resting on bright red placemats. A small bouquet containing some of the asters and a small spray of red roses rested in a delicate delft vase. It was quite charming. Martin couldn't help but be impressed with the effort she had made. "Good idea."

Holding the two glasses he had just pulled from the cupboard, he turned toward the door and held it for her as she carried the plates out to the terrace and then went back to fill the glasses with water. "Tap alright?"

"Yeah."

As he was carrying the glasses out to the terrace, she asked, "How are you finding Joan? Do you think she is doing well?"

"She seems healthy, but I wonder if she is having difficulty keeping up the farm. The house seems quite shabby. Of course it could have always been that way, and I don't remember. I was a child when I last spent any time there. I've been back once or twice, but only for short visits and I really didn't pay much attention to the state of the house."

"Most farmers here don't spend much keeping up the house. All their profits go back into running the farm. And a lot of them are in debt. Many end up selling their land to developers for holiday cottages. Pity really"

"Hmmmm," Martin thought he should ask his aunt about her finances. He wouldn't want her to lose the farm that she loved so much and that held such happy memories. He might be able to help her out.

"So how has the start of school been this year?" Casual conversation was never his strong suit. During the past week, as he thought of possible topics of conversation, he had written them down and reviewed them before driving over to her cottage.

"Oh, you know, the usual. Some things never change and then some new and unusual problem pops up that you don't expect. There are always the new parents who are concerned that their little Johnny or Suzy is placed in the right class, and meeting with those parents can be time consuming. Then there are the parents who don't believe in childhood vaccinations. The rules are very clear that all children must be up to date on their jabs, but some parents always want you to make an exception for their child."

Martin exhaled loudly in indignation. "What is it with these parents who think that vaccinations are harmful? Do they have any idea how disabling or deadly some of these childhood illness were? Actually still are. If their child were to catch one of these illnesses and die, they would be the first ones screaming about how the NHS wasn't doing their job protecting the public health."

"Yes, we rarely see anyone with polio, or measles or chicken pox anymore so we have all forgotten how sick they can make the children"

"I haven't. We see several cases of measles each year, and if not properly treated in time, the children can lose their sight. Polio has almost been eradicated from the world, but cases still pop up in sub Saharan Africa. Our infectious disease specialists are always warning us to be on the lookout for any cases that might show up in a recent traveller. We don't want it on our shores."

He fell easily into lecture format when discussing the general public's failure to heed health recommendations. Although she found the topic interesting, Louisa was a little offended by his tone and stopped him right there, "Yes, well thank you. Good to know."

He fell silent for a moment, and then remembering his manners, Martin complimented Louisa on her meal, "These sandwiches are delicious, as is the salad. Thank you for such a wonderful healthy meal."

After the "adequate" statement, Louisa was surprised and sputtered a quiet "thank you" as she looked down at his plate, which was empty. "Can I get you anything else?"

"Perhaps a little more salad. I'll get it. Would you like some more water?"

They soon finished up, then cleared and washed the dishes.

After they finished the washing up, Martin blurted, "I need to pee."

"_No euphemisms for this man, just out with it_, she thought wryly to herself. "_Actually it's quite refreshing_,_ but I guess bodily functions are an ordinary topic for doctors_". Nodding her head toward the stairs, she told him, "Top of the stairs. You can't miss it."

When he returned, she headed up herself, and while she was up there, she grabbed a warm jacket from her wardrobe. "So are you ready to head out and get some fresh Cornish air?"

"_Am I ready to face the great unwashed?"_ He groaned inwardly. "You bet" he grunted.


	10. Chapter 10

They headed up to the car park at the top of the hill, Louisa trotting to keep up with Martin's long strides. While Martin changed, Louisa wandered over to the football pitch, where the village boys were playing a friendly match against the Delabole boys' team. She made her way over to where Maura, the school secretary was watching the game.

"Maura, how is the match going?

"Okay, we're ahead two goals, but it's early yet. I see you have a visitor, very nice if I must say so. Who is he and where did you find him?" Maura nodded in Martin's direction, as he walked over to join them. Louisa smiled and then turned toward Martin, and looking down at his shoes, nodded her approval even though it was obvious they'd barely been worn.

"Martin, this is Maura Hammett, the school secretary and a whirlwind of efficiency. I don't know what the school would do without her. Maura, this is Martin Ellingham, Joan Norton's nephew. He is here visiting for the weekend. I met him whilst I was in London this summer and offered to show him around the village."

Remember Joan's guidance, Martin mumbled, "Nice to meet you."

Louisa smiled and said "Maura's son Matt is one of our star players. So Maura, how is Matt doing today"

"Matt's doing very well today," Maura beamed proudly. "He's made two goals this afternoon. Of course he'll be impossible to live with if they win the match." Turning to Martin she greeted him, "Martin, it's nice to meet you too. I guess I never knew that Joan had a nephew. Where are you from?"

"London", Martin replied succinctly.

"Very different from Cornwall, I imagine. How are you finding us?"

"Just arrived; no opinion yet."

Several others joined Louisa, Martin and Maura, anxious to meet the tall stranger visiting Louisa. Many were surprised to discover that he was Joan Norton's nephew, and started to pepper him with questions, to which Martin quietly responded in his usual monosyllabic fashion. Several wanted to know how Louisa knew him. Why was she showing him around the village and not Joan? Louisa repeated her story of Holly's accident and meeting Martin in hospital several times as more and more villagers gathered around them. She could see that Martin was becoming increasingly uncomfortable as the villagers seemed just as interested in him as the match on the pitch. She started to move away from the group, motioning for Martin to follow her. "Let's get going shall we?"

Suddenly Maura let out a whoop as her son Matt headed a shot away from the goal and another Portwenn player picked it up and dribbled it down to the Portwenn goal. Everyone cheered, everyone that is except Martin.

"Was that your son who just headed the ball?" Martin asked.

"Yeah, he's one of the best players our team has", she added with a smile and pride in her voice.

"And you think that hitting a fast flying ball with his head is a good thing?" Martin asked with more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Yeah, he's really good at heading, does it five or six times during each match, and sometimes even gets a goal out it."

"Are you incredibly stupid?" he growled at her.

Both Louisa and Maura were totally taken aback that this newcomer to the village could be so rude and they stared at him unable to respond. "Martin?" Louisa looked at him with alarm.

Martin continued raising his voice, "Heading the ball is incredibly dangerous. You're an idiot for encouraging him."

Maura finally found her voice, "What are you talking about?" she shouted back at him. Louisa took a step back from both of them, embarrassed as others started to draw near.

In his most authoritative consultant's voice, Martin lectured, "Heading the ball can cause concussions and cumulative brain damage, especially in children whose neck and shoulder muscles aren't strong enough to position their heads to avoid injury. Significant cognitive declines have been documented in players who routinely head the ball. Children should never be allowed to use their heads as mallets."

"But players have been heading the ball for years, and no one has been hurt in the past." Maura argued back.

"Really? I can quote several studies that indicate otherwise. Does your son experience headaches after games?"

"Sometimes", Maura was starting to look concerned.

"A sign of concussion. You should have him evaluated by a neurologist, and stop him from heading the ball in the future. In fact, all the players should be barred from heading"

A crowd was starting to gather and worried that an unpleasant incident could develop, Louisa stepped in to defuse the situation, pointing out to Maura that Martin was a doctor and a surgeon and that he knew what he was talking about. Then thinking it would be best to get him off to a quiet place away from the villagers, she directed her attention to Martin, suggesting that they start their village tour, "Martin, let's head up to the school. I'd like you to see it and some of the children's work."

"Yes ... good." Martin was grateful to get away from the crowds; he was never comfortable in large crowds and he knew she was proud of her school.

As they walked away, they could hear shouts of "Tosser" bandied in their direction and he couldn't help but think that some things were constant whether in his dream or in real life. He scowled; he would not be cowed by some inbred village morons. Unconsciously he shook his head, straightened his already erect frame to stand even higher and then continued to walk just a step behind Louisa. They walked across the play area that led to the school doors and paused at the stone wall overlooking the harbour. He was surprised that the actual village was so similar to his dream. He and Aunty Joan frequently came into town when he was a child and it seemed that his memories were fairly accurate. More of the shops carried souvenir items for tourists than in his dream and he had not yet found the chemist's shop, but it all seemed familiar.

As much as he tried, he couldn't stop himself from staring at her. She was wearing her hair up in a ponytail like she did the evening he first saw her in A&amp;E and he was entranced. She was speaking, something about this view taking her breath away despite seeing it every day. He just grunted his usual "hmmm". She turned to face him, and he quickly glanced back over the harbour, blushing, but she had noticed his gaze. _"What a curious man, so confident and out-spoken in some ways and yet ... so ... shy."_

She turned toward the school doors and asked him if he really thought heading was so dangerous, and he reiterated his concern, "Really Louisa, as a teacher, as head teacher, you should be aware of the dangers to a child's cognitive development whenever they experience a head injury. Let me put this as simply as possible: a fast moving football hitting a child's head will induce a shock to the brain causing it to bounce against the skull resulting in damage to brain tissue. It may be minor damage at first, but over time the damage accumulates. It is no different than hitting one's head in a fall or in a minor car accident. I can send you copies of studies discussing the dangers."

Despite his pompous tone which she found condescending, she understood he was trying to alert her to the dangers. "Oh…I hadn't really thought of it that way. Yes, I would like to see some of those studies; perhaps I can get the local football organizers to stop the practice. But, still you shouldn't have called Maura an idiot or stupid. That was rude and hurtful. She may have been ignorant of the dangers, but she is not stupid." She was embarrassed at his outburst even if he was right to be concerned.

He frowned. "Perhaps ... still, she **is** an idiot for encouraging her son."

Louisa was seeing another side of Martin, one she wasn't so sure she liked, but she had offered to show him around the village and she wasn't one to go back on her word. She unlocked the door to the school and started to wander through the halls, showing him the classrooms and some of the children's artwork on the walls. She opened the doors to the sunlit library telling him proudly how she had won a grant to more than double the number of books available and how she was applying for another grant to upgrade computer access, not only in the library but in each classroom. Eventually she hoped to fund laptop or tablet computers for each child in the school, but she feared that was still several years off.

He seemed impressed by all of her efforts and what she had accomplished over the short time she had been head teacher. He really didn't know much about primary school education, but nonetheless made an effort to ask an occasional question. He wanted her to know that he cared enough to try to learn more about her work, about which she seemed so passionate. "You really care for the students in your school, don't you?"

"Yes, each and every one. I want them all to reach their full potential."

"As do I. I care about all the future citizens of our country, which is why I don't want children damaging their brains by foolishly banging their heads against fast flying projectiles." Martin wasn't going to let his concern for the footballers rest.

"Ah, yes", Well he brought it up, so she waded back in, intent on letting him know how mortified she was by his outburst. She stood firm, legs slightly apart and looked him in the eye as she gently but emphatically admonished him. "You know, I appreciate your pointing out the dangers inherent in the game, but your shouting at my assistant and calling her an idiot just wasn't helpful. It was unkind, and in fact, I was embarrassed. I do live and work in this community and it felt like you were criticizing all of us, not just Maura."

As she chastised him, he stared at her with wide open eyes, once again struck by her beauty, and realized how his actions, his words, had hurt her. He remembered Aunty Joan's admonishment not to embarrass Louisa, and he was remorseful. He lowered his eyes and in a soft voice, almost a whisper, said, "Ah…perhaps I was a bit too forceful." He knew that he could come across as overbearing at times especially when he encountered people doing things that caused unnecessary injury, but he just couldn't seem to help himself. It was something he needed to work on, just as he had to work on it in his dream. But in his dream, Louisa would yell at him when she thought he was behaving badly, frequently marching off without explaining exactly why she was angry. The real Louisa stood up for herself, but was more soft spoken and gentle with him, and explained exactly where he went wrong. He understood and thought that, perhaps, they could become friends.


	11. Chapter 11

They left the school and wandered about the village. Louisa pointed out the various little tea shops, most of which were closed or had reduced their hours now that the summer season was coming to an end. Last weekend's Fisherman's festival marked the official end of the season with tourists filling the village enjoying the festivities, but now things were much quieter. The tourists were good for the economy, but the villagers were all glad when the season ended, when they were able to resume their slow-paced quiet life once again. They passed the pub which became the hub of village life in the off season, then they wandered by the chemist shop, the news and convenience store and the fish market, all of which remained open after the tourists left, although with reduced hours. Martin glanced into the chemist's shop and noticed the proprietor was an elderly gentleman. Mrs Tischell in his dream was very similar to the outgoing woman who manned the register in a chemists around the corner from his London flat and he was certain she would not be here in Portwenn, but stranger things had happened.

As they walked up Rosscarrock Hill, they passed the cottage which had been the surgery when he was a child and which had figured prominently in his dream. Martin commented on it, "This was where Dr. Sims had his surgery when I was a boy."

"Dr. Sims passed away a few years ago. The new doctor moved the surgery up the hill to a more modern building in a location with easier access and more parking. The new owners turned this into a holiday cottage. Pity really, one more cottage unavailable for permanent residents."

"Do you mind if we stop here on the terrace and look out onto the harbour?" Martin wanted to relive the many moments of his dream when he stood at this very spot staring over to his dream Louisa's cottage and school.

"Of course not. I doubt there's anyone inside who would mind. The view from here is beautiful isn't it?" They paused for a few moments and enjoyed the view of the harbour and the sea beyond. A fishing boat made its way into the harbour and started to unload its catch while the gulls swarmed the boat hoping for a catch of their own.

"It's unfortunate the new doctor is away from the village this weekend or I'd introduce you. His name is Michael O'Leary. He's quite nice and a very good doctor."

The way Louisa praised this Dr. O'Leary made Martin instantly dislike him. "Irish?"

"No, American."

"Even worse."

"No, he has excellent credentials. He moved here with his fiancé almost two years ago when she got a position with North Cornwall Polytechnic. Unfortunately they split up shortly after they arrived, but his contract with the NHS was for three years. He'll be moving back to America next November and we will have to find a new doctor then. The village will miss him; he's become an integral part of our community."

"Humph," Martin was not impressed. It sounded to him as though Louisa was too fond of this Michael O'Leary, not that it was really any of his business. Perhaps she was one of those women who are attracted to doctors. He'd be somewhat disappointed to discover that she was. Of course, he consoled himself, not many well educated men in this part of Cornwall. Still...

They left the landing in front of the old surgery and Louisa shifted the bag she was carrying. Noticing her sag slightly while shifting the bag, Martin asked, "That looks heavy; can I carry it for you?"

"It's not too heavy, just some tea and snacks in case we get peckish: cheese, crackers and apple. But yes, it would be nice if you could take it for a while" and she handed the bag over to him and he slung it over his shoulder. It was heavier than she had intimated and he wished he had offered to carry it earlier.

As they walked on, Louisa motioned for them to take the coastal path where it began at the end of the road. "I just love walking along this path, close to the sea. You can hear the thunder of the waves crashing against the rocks, the seagulls squealing overhead. It all feels so primitive and makes me feel alive." She laughed and let the sheer joy of the moment wash over her over as she spread her arms, looked up to the sky, twirled, and grinned at him. Her joy was contagious and he couldn't help smiling back at her. It was a beautiful day, and he was spending the day alone with a beautiful woman who seemed to be happy being with him. Once again he felt himself falling under her spell, yearning for her to be part of his life.

As she turned to continue on up the trail, she stumbled and fell. Martin rushed to help her up, but she held up her hand. "Just give me a second; sometimes I get a little dizzy; I shouldn't spin around like I just did, but out here near the ocean, I just can't help myself sometimes."

She held out her hand and Martin helped her to her feet. "Have you discussed it with your GP? Perhaps you suffer from vertigo."

"It doesn't happen very often, and I never remember to mention it when I go in. I'm fine. Let's keep going", she cried and ran ahead on the trail. Looking back, she yelled at him, "Keep up. Take longer strides." He quickened his pace and was next to her in a moment. She laughed and ran on ahead. He quickly followed, although he decided he'd better keep an eye on her nevertheless.

They continued on the trail until they came to a particularly spectacular spot with several large rocks suitable for resting. "Why don't we stop and take a break?" she suggested. Martin was open to pretty much anything she might suggest, even sitting on what were likely unsanitary rocks. It seemed to him a magical day. It reminded him of picnics near the sea with his Aunty Joan when he was little.

He removed the bag from his shoulders and set it on the rock ledge between them. Louisa opened it and removed the tea thermos and two paper cups along with a bag of crackers, some cheese and two apples with a knife and paper plate for serving them up. It had been a few hours since they had eaten lunch and they were both hungry. It seemed the fresh air and exercise had sharpened their appetites. And they tucked in hungrily.

Suddenly Louisa whispered, "Look, overhead, a group of cranes…aren't they beautiful?" Sure enough there they were heading south over the sea cliffs. "Yes", he replied as he gazed over at her. She turned to smile at him and caught him looking at her with adoration before he was able to straighten his expression and look up once again at the cranes as they flew off.

They continued to gaze out at the sea watching the waves come in and out, crashing against the rocks and then retreating, only to repeat the action over and over. Martin commented, "It's so calming sitting here watching the sea, so far from the obligations of everyday life."

"Yes," she agreed. "It's a refuge for me when the demands of the teachers and parents become too much. Do you have any place in London where you can go to refresh your soul?"

'No, not like this. There are the parks, but often they are crowded and noisy, except in the early morning. I sometimes walk through the park near my flat on my way to work to help prepare myself for the day's procedures, but it's nothing like this."

"Ah…..Louisa." He wanted to tell her something, but he wasn't sure how to say it.

"Yes?"

"Ah…I've been thinking ... um ... I know that I can be ... um ... blunt sometimes." Martin was rarely at a loss for words, and apologies were not something he was accustomed to making, but he wanted to make sure she knew he wasn't criticising her earlier.

"Yes?" She could see that he was struggling with something.

"I get angry when I see people harming themselves and I feel compelled to say something. I know that I can be tactless sometimes. I'm sorry I embarrassed you back at the football pitch. I didn't intend to humiliate you."

She noticed the earnestness in his face and accepted that he wanted to make amends. She lowered her eyes then smiled directly at him. "Apology accepted. I've forgotten already. That's what watching the sea will do for you."

"No, I mean it. I would like to be your friend.

"I would like that too," she replied.

He was silent for a few minutes whilst they sipped on tea and finished their snack. In and out, the waves rhythmically broke against the rocks, lulling them both. Louisa leaned back, closed her eyes and turned her face toward the lowering sun. Martin found himself deep in thought and glanced at her from time to time. He had to keep reminding himself that she wasn't his dream woman. She said she wanted to be his friend, but would she feel that way once she really got to know him? Perhaps he should explain. Looking down at the sea, he quietly said, "I've been told that I'm a difficult person. I mean well, but I can seem gruff or rude when I just want to help. I say what I think, especially when I see people doing foolish things. Being genial and charming isn't my first thought."

He thought back to _dream Louisa_'s signal for him to collect himself, sometimes it was just a look or a slight touch of her hand on his sleeve or chest. Would it be appropriate for him to ask her to use the same techniques or would that be too familiar? He decided that it would be inappropriate to ask someone he barely knew to help him in that way.

He just looked at her lost as to what he should say next. She saw the expression in his eyes and had an idea. "Tell you what. If I think you are starting to 'misbehave', (and here she made air quotes with her fingers), I'll give you the same look I sometimes give my students, my 'shape up or it's detention for you look'"

"A look?" He wasn't sure what she meant.

"Yes, a look… like this," and frowning, she gave him a stern look with her eyes wide open and raised her eyebrows.

"Oh" He was familiar with that look from his days at public school. It was usually followed by a caning or some other form of punishment. But he didn't think she would go that far with him. It was funny how she came up with that idea. It was almost like she read his mind. "Okay, but no detention" he said as a slight grin played around his lips.

She laughed, "Well only if you shape up." This was almost fun. Was he flirting with her? She wasn't sure.

"Thank you." He was serious again. He looked back out to sea. "I almost hate to leave this spot. It's so tranquil. Thank you for spending the day with me. It reminds me of times I spent wandering the cliffs near Auntie Joan's farm when I was a boy, the happy times of my childhood."

The sun was getting low in the sky and they decided it was time to walk back to the village; they didn't want to be caught on the coastal path after dark. Louisa suggested they drop by the pub for a drink and perhaps a light dinner. Martin scowled at this suggestion thinking it likely that it would be crowded and noisy, but Louisa assured him that it was early yet and not likely to be crowded. As they neared the village, Martin cried out, "Oh god, not again!"

"What? What's the matter?"

"Damned dog faeces again, all over my shoe." He stomped over to the side of the path and began wiping his shoe against some gorse growing along the edge.

Louisa had to stifle a giggle. They were becoming friends, but she didn't think they were at the stage where she could laugh at him, not just yet. She took the bag from him and rummaged around until she found the sanitizing wipes she had brought for cleaning their hands before their snack. "Here, take these. You can use them to clean off your shoe."

Glancing up, he took the offered wipes and began vigorously cleaning the offending paste from his shoe, all the while ranting, "Stupid animals, dogs: smelly disgusting animals leaving their excrement just anywhere they like…"

"_Okay, enough_" Louisa thought to herself and she leaned over so she could look him in the face and gave him "the look".

"What...What?" And then the penny dropped. She was giving him "the look". Confused he looked up to his left and then to his right. Seeing no one else nearby, he sputtered, "But there's no one else around, just you and me."

"True", she replied, "But aren't you overreacting just a little bit? It's only a little dog poo. It's not the end of the world. Just clean it off and move on. There's really no need to get so upset…not good for your blood pressure, is it…doctor? Here, put the dirty wipes in this bag; we don't want to litter the path do we?"

"No". Still frowning, he took the plastic bag she offered and dropped in the wipes as he soiled them. Soon enough his boot was spotless which was a good thing because they were out of wipes.

They continued on until they reached the road. As they approached the old surgery, Martin stopped and strode up the steps. "Come here," he said. She went over and he took her shoulders and turned her toward the sea. "Look". The sun was just setting on the horizon, the sea a dark blue and the sky streaked with vibrant pinks, purples and golds. They stood there together in awe at Mother Nature's artwork. Eventually the sun set, the show was over and it was time to continue on. But neither of them was ready to move. He had clasped his hands behind his back, but Louisa was still standing just in front of him, not quite touching him but close enough for him to feel her presence and take in her scent and she could sense his presence behind her; they both realized the chemistry between them though neither acknowledged it out loud.

"We should go on; it's getting dark," Martin softly offered. "Yes," she replied. They reluctantly left the landing and slowly walked down to the pub, each lost in thought.

It was early and only a few tables were taken. Several older fishermen were still at the bar finishing their pints before heading to their respective homes. The younger crowd wouldn't begin straggling in for another hour or two. Louisa ordered a glass of white wine and Martin a glass of bottled water and they found a table in a quiet corner.

"The fish here is usually quite good, just off the boats and simply prepared, grilled or broiled. Of course you can order it deep fried as well, a fish and chip plate..."

"Humph, yes, clogging my arteries with Trans fats and grease is just what I'd like," Martin replied sarcastically. "Imagine it keeps your friend, the local GP in business though." He glanced down at the menu, "Grilled sounds good. Maybe a salad or some fresh vegetables as well?"

"Sounds perfect". She raised her hand and the waitress came over to take their order, bringing with her a basket of rolls and bread. As soon as the waitress left with their order, Louisa took one of their special dinner rolls, broke off a piece, buttered it and popped it into her mouth. "Um umm, I am hungrier than I thought. These rolls are really delicious, made fresh everyday in the kitchen here."

Martin was sceptical and gave her a questioning look, "White flour and butter, not a healthy combination."

"Maybe not, but occasionally, as a treat? They are really delicious; try one."

He took one, broke off a piece and ate. "This is good." With one more bite, he finished it off, and then took another.

"So, what are your plans for tomorrow?"

"I'm taking Auntie Joan to brunch. Would you care to join us?" He asked with a slight smile and questioning look.

"Oh, I couldn't do that. I've taken up enough of your time here. I'm sure she wants some time with you all to herself. I got the impression that she is very fond of you with many happy memories of the times you spent on her farm when you were a boy."

"Yes, I guess that would be best. I'm not leaving until early Monday morning." He hesitated a moment, then suggested, "Perhaps I could take you out to dinner tomorrow evening." He had enjoyed her company today so much that he wanted to see her again before he left.

"I have a better idea. Maybe you could come over to my house for an early supper", she offered.

'I have an even better idea. I could bring over some vegetables and maybe some fish and cook dinner for you." He had noticed many different spices in her pantry and was pretty sure he could prepare a flavourful meal for her. "Oh, but you said you have to spend Sunday evening preparing for the week's classes."

"Oh!" She looked at him in surprise. "You would cook for me? That would be nice. But I have an even better idea." She giggled; it was as if they were trying to outdo each other. "Why don't we prepare supper together? It could be fun. And don't worry; I can do my week's preparation in the afternoon before you get there."

"I'd like that. What time should I arrive?"

"We will need time to prepare everything and cook it. Why don't you come around 5:30 or 6:00? You can bring the fish and fresh vegetables? I'll get some greens for salad and some fresh bread."

"Yes."

"It's a date."

"Yes."


	12. Chapter 12

Martin pulled into the car park and once again unfolded himself from the rental along with several bags of groceries and the apple pie Aunty Joan insisted that he take. He and his aunt had had a very nice brunch and visit earlier in the day, and now he was looking forward to spending the evening with Louisa. Aunty Joan had been very curious about his day with Louisa, especially since she had heard about the incident at the football pitch. News of his identity and his comments on playing techniques had reached her within minutes after they had left the field. She insisted on telling him how several of the villagers had called her to tell her about meeting him, and how several more couldn't wait to tell her about the scene he caused. Not only had he embarrassed Louisa, but evidently he had mortified Aunty Joan as well. "Louisa accepted my apology for shouting, and I hope you will also, but I was right to call them on it. No child should be banging his head against a flying football."

"Oh Marty, I am sure you are right, but there are better ways to let people know about the problem than by yelling at them, or calling them stupid." She sighed, knowing he wouldn't change. "Oh well, what's done is done". It was time to learn more about his afternoon and evening with Louisa. Probing to find out what Martin thought about her, she changed the subject. "So how was your afternoon with Louisa? Other than the football pitch where did you go?"

He answered matter-of-factly. "She showed me around her school and then through the lower part of the village near the Platt. We walked the path along the sea, and then had supper at the pub. Very pleasant day."

"The pub wasn't too raucous for you then? What do you think of Louisa?" Joan was couldn't contain her curiosity, desperate to know if Martin was interested. She would love for him to find someone as caring as Louisa with whom to share his life. She was more than willing to push him to think of her that way.

"Pub was fine; not too crowded; food was adequate." He paused a moment mulling over his Aunt's question. "What do you mean about Louisa? What should I think of her?" There was something in the way his aunt asked that confused him.

"I mean do you find her attractive, interesting to talk with? I'm not sure that you and she would have much in common. Will you see her again?"

"I can't really remember what we discussed ... hmm ... the village, the sea, her school, and my summers here with you when I was young…that sort of thing. And yes, we are getting together at her house tonight. I offered to cook her supper. Do you think I could take a few vegetables from your garden? And I offered to bring some fish. Where is the best place to buy fish this afternoon?"

Martin had moved much faster than Joan had ever thought he would. She had the sudden thought that he might be a womanizer just like his Dad, and just as quickly she dismissed it. She refused to even consider that he could have turned out that way. "I take it that you are interested in her".

Martin blushed at his aunt's implication, and replied indignantly, "Aunty Joan! I hardly know her. She invited me for dinner and I thought it would be impolite to refuse."

Joan chuckled and sighed in relief; in some ways he was still the very proper little boy that she remembered from years ago. _"No", _she thought_, "very unlikely that he's the cad his father was, or may still be._" "Yes, very mannerly of you to accept. You do realize that you are spending more time with her this weekend than you are with me."

He hadn't thought about it, but Aunty Joan was right. He had come down to spend the weekend with her, his beloved aunt, and here he was spending time with someone he barely knew rather than getting reacquainted with Joan. Remorsefully he admitted, "Yes you are right. I will call her and cancel tonight's plans. The main purpose of my trip was to visit with you."

"You will do no such thing! I couldn't be happier that you are friends with Louisa. She is a wonderful, warm, caring woman. I hope you can be friends"

"Yes, she is. You know…," He paused, not certain how to ask what he wanted to know without alerting his aunt to his true feelings, feelings he still hadn't completely admitted to himself, "You know, um ... I am surprised that she isn't married. Too devoted to her school perhaps?"

'No. I don't think that's it. She was married once, to her childhood sweetheart. It didn't last. They divorced. Oh, it must be almost ten years ago."

"Why?"

"Well you'll have to ask Louisa that, won't you? I don't know everything."

"Hmm."

Now that he had told his aunt about his day with Louisa, he felt free to discuss what was really on his mind. "Aunty Joan, I couldn't help noticing how run down the house is. There is no reliable hot water, the paint is peeling off the walls, and the stairs are unstable. I'd like to help you make some repairs."

"Marty, it's sweet of you to offer, but you'd hardly have the time, even if you came down every weekend. I didn't know you were a handyman as well as a renowned surgeon."

"Of course I'm not. I wouldn't make the repairs myself. I'd hire someone and pay them to do it."

She shook her head vigorously. "No, no, no. I couldn't accept your money."

Martin exhaled in exasperation. "Really, what else am I going to do with it? They pay me much more than I need for my simple lifestyle. I have to invest it somewhere. Actually fixing up the farmhouse might be a good investment. I had forgotten how peaceful Cornwall is. I wouldn't mind spending more time down here. It would be a tranquil spot to work on my research papers, but I'd like to be comfortable whilst I am here. Of course I could always spend my money staying at a hotel if you'd rather."

Joan admitted that she'd rather he didn't spend his money at a hotel. She would love to have him visit more regularly and stay with her. That afternoon when they returned from the restaurant, they walked around the house and Martin made a note of what needed fixing. As they walked, he began to think of other improvements that could be made to make it a comfortable family holiday home, not that it was likely he would ever have a family. Although ... in the back of his mind, absurd as he knew it was, he could see himself and Louisa spending holidays here with their family. With a shake of his head, he sent that thought packing. No matter what turn his life took, fixing up the farm house would be a good investment, a comfortable home for his Aunt's remaining years and later on, a valuable rental property in the summer high season.


	13. Chapter 13

He knocked on Louisa's door and waited. He shifted his bags and knocked again, but still no answer. He was beginning to think he had misunderstood the time when she finally opened the door. "Sorry, I was in the back working in the garden and had to turn off the water and then…" She paused a moment out of breath, and smiled at him. "Well, anyway I'm glad you're still here. Come in please"

He nodded and smiled back. "It's okay. I brought some fish and vegetables. Aunty Joan sent a pie."

"Oh it looks delicious." And, she thought to herself as she quickly scanned him from head to toe, "_So do you_." Martin was attired in a beautiful suit, dress shirt with French cuffs, just as she remembered him when she first saw him waiting for her in the hospital lobby, attire which was perfect for an evening in a posh London restaurant, but not necessarily for an evening cooking in her kitchen. "Let me take your jacket. We don't want you soiling your lovely suit."

She had taken great care with her outfit for the evening as well. She wanted something feminine and alluring, something to pique his interest, but not too overtly sexy. She opted for jeans with a snug dark rose knit top, cut low enough to show a hint of cleavage, along with a matching knit cardigan. If he had noticed, he gave no indication to her, which she found disappointing. Most men she had dated would have made some kind of appreciative or complimentary comment, but Martin hadn't seemed to notice.

But he had noticed her appearance, finding her stunning as always, but he didn't think it was proper to comment on it at this stage in their acquaintance. He unbuttoned his jacket and hung it on the hanger she offered and followed her into the kitchen. She started to empty the bags he brought. "So let's take a look at what we have here. Have you thought about how you want to prepare everything?"

Martin had been thinking about their meal on the way over. The day before, he had noticed many different spices and herbs in her pantry that could be used in some interesting dishes; but not knowing how well he and Louisa would work together and given the fact that they were still getting to know each other, he thought it best to keep the preparation easy. "I was thinking that we should keep it simple. Perhaps bake or broil the fish with a light glaze and then cut up and roast the vegetables with a light drizzle of olive oil seasoned with salt and pepper."

She agreed and offered to make the glaze for the fish if he could chop up the vegetables. She had already prepared a salad for their first course which they could eat while the fish and vegetables were cooking.

She handed him an apron and a cutting board and let him select a knife to use. He was impressed with how well her kitchen was equipped. High quality pots and pans, a good variety of sharp knives and other tools, everything that a good cook might need to prepare a gourmet meal. "Do you cook often? I notice that your kitchen is much better equipped than average."

"Well, yes. I love to have people over and cook for them. I'm always looking for new recipes and new ways of preparing meals."

"Do you have any favourite cuisines?"

"Well…. I started with Julia Child's "Mastering the art of French Cooking" back in my early twenties, and then tried my hand at Mexican, New Mexican actually, and then Indian. Right now I am experimenting with Thai cooking."

A brilliant beautiful woman who loves to cook; if he had been a confident flirter, he would have said, "I think I love you." Instead he said, "Umm ... I enjoy cooking myself, although I tend to simpler preparations. Have you ever tried Japanese cuisine, sushi or sashimi?"

"No, I haven't tried that yet. Perhaps you could teach me?"

"Yes, I'd like that, and … perhaps I could try some Thai recipes myself. Do you have any that you find particularly worth sharing?"

"The glaze I'm preparing for the fish is Thai based. Here's the recipe. Take a look and tell me what you think."

They continued to talk food preparation while they finished up the fish and vegetables, delighted that they had found a common interest. Louisa served up the salad while the rest of the meal was cooking. "Just a simple greens and vinaigrette I'm afraid, nothing fancy."

"Perfect." Martin was enjoying himself immensely and even found himself smiling when he discovered she was partial to extra pepper on her food just like he was. "Don't stint on the pepper on my account" were her exact words. Louisa opened the bottle of white wine Martin had brought, carried two glasses over to the table and started to pour the wine. "This is such a good wine Martin; it will go beautifully with the fish and vegetables." Martin held out his hand. "I hope you will like it, but none for me, thank you."

"Really? Do you not drink, Martin?" She remembered that he had not ordered any wine when they had dinner together in London.

"No, it puts me to sleep, so I find it's better to avoid alcohol."

"What a shame. Not even a taste?"

"Perhaps."

She poured a few sips into his glass and then raised her glass to his, "Here's to a lovely evening and new friends."

He touched her glass with his and looking at her lovely face, agreed, "Yes".

"_Yes_", that seemed to be the word he used to indicate a positive response, Louisa thought. Yes I like it; yes it's good; yes I agree; yes you are correct; yes seemed to be the answer to most any question. Well, she thought, "_in class to get a student to open up, we ask an open ended question_". How was your brunch with Joan?"

"Good."

Inwardly Louisa groaned. "_Good ... yes; I may call him Mr. monosyllabic. Okay Louisa that wasn't really open-ended enough._" "Anything special on offer?"

"A buffet: good selection of meats and fish, eggs, pastries, fruits, potatoes, puddings, sweets. I was able to put together a healthy meal and Joan enjoyed a little bit of everything there. Despite the healthy vegetables and chickens that she grows on her farm, she does not have the best diet. I worry that she may have coronary heart disease and could be a candidate for an MI."

"A what?"

"Myocardial infarction, a heart attack."

"Can it be prevented?"

"Often it can, but she needs to change her diet and shift some weight; it's always difficult to change lifetime habits. She probably gets plenty of exercise running her farm, but I know she has more stress than is good for her heart. I talked with her about my helping to fix up the house and I have been thinking I may be able to do more to help her financially. She hasn't said anything, but I worry she may be struggling."

She had finally got him talking. It was nice to know that he cared enough to help Joan out. This was a side of him that she wanted to know better, the non-medical side of him, Martin the man. Now to keep him talking, "What needs to be done with the house?"

"The basics at first. Needs a new boiler. Actually all the plumbing needs to be replaced or repaired: the bathroom needs new fixtures and the kitchen plumbing and appliances need to be replaced. The whole house needs to be painted and the stairs are unstable." He paused, "I could go on and on."

"Sounds like a lot of work."

"Yes, and the more I think about it, the more I can see things that I would like to change."

Just then the timer went off. Martin jumped up to check on the fish and vegetables while Louisa carried in the used salad plates and placed them in the sink. Martin started to serve up the meal and Louisa poured some water in glasses and carried them to the table.

As they sat back down, Louisa brought the conversation back to Joan's farm. "You were saying that there are several things you would like to change at Joan's house."

"Yes. Umm…. I'd like to come down more often, keep an eye on her so to speak. It would be more comfortable for me if I had more privacy, perhaps an en-suite bathroom, maybe a sitting room next to the bedroom. There are five bedrooms upstairs with only one bath. I think we could easily convert one of the smaller bedrooms to a bath and sitting room. That sort of thing."

"Wouldn't that get expensive?"

"Could be, but I will inherit the farm when Joan dies, so it would make for a good investment in the long run."

"So you would sell it when Joan dies?"

"Perhaps. Or keep it for a holiday home if I should have a family or to let in the summers."

"Family? I would have thought you were a confirmed bachelor, devoted to your career. Do you plan to have a family?"

"_Why would she think I was a confirmed bachelor? Although I suppose I was until a few months ago, until I met her_" he thought to himself as he looked at her curiously. He pondered whether he should open up. So far they had managed to keep the conversation impersonal. "Up until recently, I have been focused on my career, but now that I am established, I have been thinking about other possibilities, perhaps a family." Then with a wry semi-smile and an attempt at a chuckle, which came out more as a "humph", he added, "But first things first; have to find the right woman." He tried to make this last sentence seem light-hearted, but wasn't sure he got the tone quite right.

"_Funny_," she thought. "_That's what I told Joan just a few weeks ago. I have to find the right man_."

She returned the same wry half-smile, "I know what you mean. It can be difficult to find the right person."

"Yes."

Again with the 'yes' she thought. So far they had had a companionable evening with few lulls in the conversation, but now an uncomfortable silence descended over the table. Louisa poured herself another glass of wine.

Martin fidgeted in his seat. "The glaze on this fish is quite good. Would you give me a copy of the recipe?"

"Certainly. I can e-mail it to you next week." Louisa took another sip of her wine. "This really is good wine. Thank you for bringing it. I wish you could enjoy a few more sips."

"I'm fine." He took another sip, then shifted in his seat, and the uncomfortable silence descended once more.

Looking down at his plate as he placed another piece of fish on his fork, he commented, 'Ahmm…I am surprised that you are not married with children by now. Are Cornish men idiots?"

"Idiots? That's not very nice Martin," and she gave him the 'look'.

"No, no. I didn't mean it that way. I would think there would have been many men who would have wanted to settle down with you."

"Well I was married once… to a Cornish man, but it didn't work out."

"I'm sorry."

"We were childhood sweethearts; got married right after college, but we were way too young and he just wasn't ready for monogamy. We lived in London whilst he was in law school; long nights studying and 'relaxing' at the pub afterwards with beautiful fellow law students was just too tempting. We divorced before the first year was out and I moved back to a teaching job at Portwenn Primary; been here ever since."

"Did he come back to the village also?"

"No. He stayed in London where he works as a solicitor. Very successful and just got engaged, maybe married by now. I saw him with some other friends whilst I was in London last summer…just after I met you in fact."

"And yes, I've had my fair share of 'admirers', but none of them has been right. So now that we are sharing, what about you? Ever been married?"

"No. Engaged once….in medical school. Didn't work out; she went abroad for her career."

"No one else since then?"

"No one serious."

"Hmmm. Not easy is it?"

"No." He lowered his eyes and looked away. The thought of Edith's persistence in re-establishing their relationship was disturbing and he certainly did not need to discuss it with Louisa.

Martin rose to clear the table and wash up. Louisa grabbed a tea towel and dried as he washed. He was just finishing up when he felt something brush against his leg. He startled and looked down to see a fat calico cat rubbing against his leg and purring. He jumped away dropping the fish pan into the sink as he shook his leg shouting, "Go away! Go away!"

"Oh Lizzie, shame on you. You frightened Martin." cooed Louisa as she scooped her pet cat into her arms. She carried her over to Martin who was trying to fade into the wall and scolded Lizzie," Martin, this is Miss Elizabeth; I named her for Elizabeth Bennet, the heroine of _Pride and Prejudice_, but I call her Lizzie for short. Now Lizzie, apologize to Martin. You frightened him."

"_A cat. God I hate cats. Why does she have to have a cat?_" Martin couldn't hide his disgust, scowling and declaring in no uncertain terms, "I hate cats, sneaky, filthy animals."

"Lizzie's not sneaky or filthy, are you sweetie? We'll just have to be extra nice to Martin, won't we? And show him just how nice kitties can be."

"Humph" Martin was not going to be easily swayed, but Louisa just smiled at him and then put Lizzie back down onto the floor, where Lizzie went right back to rubbing up against Martin's leg, "Can't you get it to stop that?"

"She is just trying to get to know you. I'm surprised that she has come out of hiding so quickly. It usually takes her much longer to make friends with anyone new." She looked down at Lizzie and then up at Martin, adding, "She must see something special in you. Take it as a compliment."

"Humph. I'm more comfortable with insults!"

Louisa put the kettle on and now that Lizzie had retreated to her special bed in front of the radiator, Martin cut two small pieces of Aunty Joan's pie and they retired to the lounge. Louisa put on some smooth jazz and they enjoyed Joan's pie whilst they talked of their plans for the next week. In addition to his routine surgical procedures and patient consultations, Martin was working on a paper to present to a conference in several months and he briefly discussed the results of his research. Louisa needed to meet with parents to finalise the plans for the fall festival to take place in two weeks time and to start planning the Christmas pageant. All that was in addition to her routine supervision of classes, preparation of applications for several grants and teaching a few classes herself each week. Both were quite busy.

"Do you think you will get back to Cornwall anytime soon?" Louisa was hoping he would. She found she enjoyed his quiet company, so different from the type of man she usually found attractive.

"I plan to get back down as soon as I can find an architect or contractor to plan the work on my Aunt's house. Perhaps we could get together again when I get back down."

"Oh yes. I would like that. We could cook Thai."

He nodded his head as a shy smile crossed his lips and he replied, "Yes, good"

"Yes, good." Louisa echoed happily and thought as she smiled to herself, "_Yes. Good. He's rubbing off on me"_.

**Merry Christmas to all the readers and writers in our wonderful Doc Martin fan fiction world. I wish all of you and your families and friends a very happy joyous holiday. **_**Just a Glimpse**_** will return in the New Year.**


	14. Chapter 14

**To my readers, I had intended to post early in the New Year, but real life has become a little too real lately. I hope to start posting more regularly. I hope everyone had a good holiday and wish you all the best for 2015**

It was late, almost 9:30 when Martin got back to the farm. Joan had already gone to bed. He changed out of his suit and into his nightclothes and readied himself for bed, all the while thinking back on his evening. He couldn't remember when he had had such an enjoyable evening, or weekend for that matter. He slept well and was up early in plenty of time to enjoy a hearty breakfast and say good-bye to his Aunt.

Aunty Joan on the other hand, had not heard him come in and had let her imagination wander far and wide over all the possible outcomes of his dinner with Louisa. She noticed his car in the yard and surmised that he had not spent the night at Louisa's, but that didn't mean that nothing had happened. She wasn't sure if she wanted anything to happen just yet; she really didn't want to think he might be like his father, but part of her couldn't help hoping for a connection between her nephew and the lonely school headmistress. She was out tending to her chickens when he came out of the house carrying his overnight bag. "Good morning Marty," she called out. "How was your evening? You were out late."

"Good morning. It was enjoyable, and not that late." He strode over to the chicken pen. "How are you this morning? I've an early train to catch, but have some time to join you at breakfast. Can I boil some eggs and prepare some toast and tea for us both?"

"That would be lovely"

"Oh….and Louisa thanks you for the pie. I left it with her if that is alright. She will return the pie plate later on."

A few minutes later, she joined him for breakfast. It was so nice to have someone look after her for a change. He confirmed that she was still agreeable to his helping her out with some house maintenance and discussed how he planned to go about finding a contractor and what a possible timetable might look like.

He left shortly after washing up the breakfast things and arrived at the station with plenty of time to catch his train. Before settling in with his BMJ for the long trip back, he made up a list of things to do once he arrived…his Portwenn projects, as it were: Studies relating to traumatic brain injury resulting from football headers for Louisa; a call to Chris Parsons for the name of an architect or contractor to help with the work on Aunty Joan's farm, and a list of the repairs and improvements he had in mind. Perhaps he could check with Louisa for the names of contractors as well; he was already looking forward to a return trip to Cornwall as an excuse to see her.

He also needed to ask his Aunt about any liens on the farm; he knew she and his father had received the farm clear of debt when their uncle Dick had left it to them, but he had no idea if Joan or Phil had taken out any mortgages since then. His father could be a hurdle as well. Even though he had never shown any interest in the farm, Martin didn't know if he had ever legally relinquished his share of the ownership to Joan. If he hadn't, complications could arise at Joan's death or even beforehand. He remembered his dream and his parent's visit when Dad demanded payment for his share of the farm; his father could complicate things in real life as well. And if his father died and left his half of the farm to Martin's mother, Martin was certain that she would want to sell and get her hands on the money whether she needed it or not. That would break Joan's heart.

The more he thought about it, the more complicated his "Portwenn project" began to look. Being the pragmatic soul he was, he decided it was best to clear up the legal situation now before starting the renovations. So he added another item to his list: call Mr. Graves, his solicitor, and get an opinion on ownership. Other renovations could wait on the legalities, but not the new boiler. If he were to spend any more time in Cornwall, he wanted a new boiler installed as soon as possible; he wasn't looking forward to any more cold showers.

Once back in the office that afternoon, he quickly scanned his list for the next day to ensure there would be no time-consuming research required for any of the procedures scheduled. He checked in with his new admin assistant, Ms. Newcross. Despite her young age and flamboyant style, she was extremely competent. She was the granddaughter of one of his older colleagues and he had hired her on a trial basis as a favour when it became apparent that his long-time assistant, Mrs. Poustie was no longer up to the job. To his surprise, she had settled right in, knowing just what he wanted when he wanted it, sometimes even before he knew he needed whatever it was. It was almost eerie, as if she could read his mind at times….and she never flinched when he was in one of his rages. He only lost his temper when others were incompetent so his anger was rarely aimed at her. All in all it was working out well.

"Ms. Newcross, I need you to find some studies on the effects of heading footballs on cognitive ability, especially in children and adolescents. Get them to me by Wednesday afternoon at the latest. And I'd like one or two of them to be comprehensible to the general public."

Next he called his old friend, Chris Parsons, head of the PCT at the Royal Cornwall in Truro. He knew that Chris and his wife Michelle had completely renovated an old farm house several years ago and could point him in the direction of a good architect and contractor. Chris was surprised as well as pleased to hear from him and was able to give him the name of several people with whom he had worked on his renovation, all of whom he thought Martin would find more than competent.

Chris then mentioned the annual holiday party he and Michelle hosted each year and asked Martin to put it on his calendar. If Mart was to be in Cornwall perhaps he could join them this year. Martin didn't have many close friends so he tried to attend this party every other year or so, and promised to make an effort to see them this year. He even thought he might ask Louisa to join him if things went well during his November visit. They seemed to get along quite amiably over the recent weekend, although her cat could prove to be a problem. Ah, her cat. He made a note to pick up a copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ on his way home. Why would she name an animal after a character in a book?

He then put in a call to Mr. Graves, his solicitor outlining his plans for his Aunt's renovation and possible ownership entanglements. Graves immediately understood the problem and promised to look into the legal ramifications. But first, Martin had to clarify with his aunt the terms of current ownership. Did she own the property outright or did Martin's father retain half ownership in the property. Was there any written or even verbal agreement whereby his father had relinquished his share? Had Martin's father ever taken any interest in the farm, had he spent any time there, that sort of thing? Once the facts were known, they could plan a strategy to best protect both his Aunt's ownership and Martin's future investment, as well as minimize any possible future inheritance taxes that might come due based on the increased value of the farm arising from Martin's investment. He thought to himself that a good lawyer was worth every penny he paid in fees.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

As head teacher, Louisa's weeks were always busy and the month following Martin's visit was no exception. She frequently had to meet with parents to discuss student problems, either behavioural or academic, and she tried to schedule most of them Monday evenings in order to implement any necessary remedial steps over the course of the week. The Monday after Martin's visit was no exception. She had four meetings scheduled and had to fend off questions about Martin with each set of parents. Why was he in the village, how did she know him, how long had she known him, why did she show him about the village and not Joan, what did they talk about, had she and Doc Mike broken up? She offered polite but brief answers to their curious questions and then moved the discussion back to the children, but they, the mothers in particular, were much more interested in her relationship with Martin. After the first mum cautioned her about stringing two men along at the same time, and the second one made innuendos about big men with big hands and "you know what that means", she refused to answer any more questions. The last two mums were highly offended when she replied that her private life was not up for discussion.

Anxious to hear more of her beloved nephew, Joan left a message on Louisa's mobile inviting her to supper Tuesday evening. Joan had enjoyed every minute he had spent with her, thrilled by the visit with her "little Marty". She had loved him as a child, but had felt the connection between them gradually wither after his visits stopped when he was twelve. She continued to write to him at school and through his first years at medical school, but his letters back had grown less and less frequent as the years passed. Now they shared a few telephone conversations at holidays each year; and whilst those conversations were warm and loving, they never went beyond the usual cursory greetings and holiday wishes; they never discussed their personal lives, never had a heart to heart. Her sister Ruth saw him very occasionally in London and kept track of his professional accomplishments; she shared with Joanie what little information she gleaned, forwarding news of his frequent presentations at medical conferences and articles he authored covering his latest research, but his personal life was still a closed book. All in all, she really did not know him well as a grown man and was hoping to discover more about him by talking with Louisa. She wanted to know what they had done, what he had talked about, how they had got on.

Louisa was more than happy to accept Joan's invitation, to have an excuse to escape the village and the constant questions. Martin was such a taciturn man; even after spending two evenings with him, she felt she knew very little about him. She considered him a new man in her life and wanted to find out all about him. Just as Joan wanted to hear what Louisa had learned of Martin, Louisa herself wanted to compare notes, as it were, with Joan. After sharing all they had discovered about him over the weekend, neither was satisfied; he was still a mystery to them.

Michael, the village GP, who had been away at a continuing education seminar, returned Monday evening and had been back less than an hour when one of his village mates met him at the pub and told him of Martin's visit. When he called Louisa Tuesday afternoon to invite her to dinner, he was disappointed when she told him she was busy. He was more than curious about Louisa's weekend guest by the time surgery closed Wednesday evening, and when he saw her light on, he decided to surprise her with an impromptu dinner. He knew that Martin Ellingham was Joan Norton's nephew, but what was his connection to Louisa? Was this Ellingham competition for Louisa's affections as implied by every villager who passed through his surgery consultation room door? He had called an old friend of his who was working as a GP in London and asked him if he knew Ellingham. Although his friend had never met him, he was familiar with Martin's work as a surgeon. He made a few inquiries and discovered that no one knew much about his private life. He was not married, seemed to be a loner. He had a reputation for being as arrogant as any other surgeon and a perfectionist, but also unpleasant, abrasive, and rude. Not the kind of person you'd care to share a meal with, but your first choice when you needed surgery.

He had stopped by the pub and picked up some fish and chips along with a bottle of Louisa's favourite wine. Not everyone was keen on wine with fish and chips, but Louisa wasn't everyone; while he was there, he picked up a few bottles of beer for himself. Even though she was a good cook, she wasn't in the habit of cooking during the week, grazing on leftovers or whatever she could find in the cupboard in the evening. He was certain she would welcome his visit as it came with dinner.

When she opened the door after he had knocked loudly, he gave her a quick kiss before bowing and presenting her with his bounty. "For mi-lady".

"Michael! What a surprise!" she exclaimed.

He set the bags on the entry table and then swept her into his arms to give her a proper kiss, then pulled away and grinned. "I missed you while I was gone."

She pulled back and giving him a wry grin, she rolled her eyes and shook her head as if to say "naughty boy". She twisted out of his embrace and turned to pick up his offerings. "I wasn't expecting you. But do come in…..I'm just finalising next term's budget for the governors' meeting this coming Monday, so I don't have too much time to visit, but a quick dinner would be lovely." As she walked back to the kitchen she shot him one of her brilliant smiles. Michael was ruggedly handsome and if Louisa were honest, she would admit her breath quickened each time she saw him. He was the epitome of a certain type of Irish American, even features with dark hair and searing blue eyes, and a fair complexion. At 35, his face was already weathering due to the years he spent on the water as a youth sailing around the bays and inlets of his native New England; it only enhanced his appeal.

"I brought you a bottle of wine. Would you like me to open it for you?" Michael lifted up the bottle for her inspection.

She quickly cleared off the table where she had been working and set it with two plates, flatware, and two glasses of water. "I would almost kill for a glass of wine, but maybe not tonight…got to keep a clear head for all this number crunching. Perhaps we can work on it together this weekend sometime….maybe Friday evening? We could cook up some pasta?"

"You could cook up some pasta. You know I'm hopeless in the kitchen."

"_Yes that's true, nothing like Martin_", thought Louisa and she gave him a slight smile.

Michael opened his bottle of beer and set it on the table. As they started to eat their dinner, Louisa asked, "How was your conference this weekend? Did you have any time for sightseeing? Liverpool can be such an interesting city."

"Oh, you know ... same old, same old. Managed to get in all the continuing ed credits I needed for the rest of the year, so that's all taken care of. Didn't really have time to do much sightseeing." He took a bite of fish, washed it down with a long draft of beer, and changed the subject. "So how was your weekend? I hear you had a visitor."

Louisa chuckled, "Yes, I'm sure you've heard all about it. Nothing stays quiet in this village for more than two minutes."

Michael had some trouble hiding the jealousy in his voice as he shared the village gossip, "I heard that you spent all Saturday afternoon and evening and then all Sunday evening with Joan's nephew. That he didn't leave your cottage until late Sunday night and was seen giving you a long kiss goodbye as he left."

"What? He did no such thing!" Louisa was astonished at the gossip that had surrounded Martin's visit. "Who made that up? We took a hike on the cliff path Saturday afternoon and then had supper at the pub. Then he came over Sunday evening and we cooked dinner together, completely platonic. Just a pleasant evening with two acquaintances getting to know each other better."

"How much better?"

"Really? Michael! You know me better than that. I met him when my friend Holly was in hospital when I was in London this summer and I promised to show him around Portwenn whenever he came down to visit his Aunt. Nothing more, nothing less." Annoyed as much with the village as with him, she snapped, "Perhaps you should take the rest of your fish and head on home now. I've got work to do."

"Come on Weesie. Don't be like that. I can't help but be a little jealous when every single villager over the age of twelve comes into my surgery telling me that this know-it-all tosser down from London has stolen my girl. How am I supposed to feel?"

"Don't call me 'Weesie'. You know I hate that. And I'm not 'your girl'."

"Yes you are; the entire village knows it. You're just being stubborn. You know how I feel, and I'm certain you feel the same way."

"Yes" she replied. "I know how you feel. And I am very fond of you, but I'm just not ready to be tied down. Maybe it's just that we are the only two singles our age here in the village. Maybe there wouldn't be anything between us if we lived somewhere else. I just don't know."

He was heartened by her admission that she was fond of him and knew it was just a matter of time before she realized that he was the man for her. 'Well, before you get any ideas about this Ellingham, let me tell you what he's like. I made some inquiries. I have a friend in London and he tells me that Ellingham is your basic arrogant surgeon. He has a reputation for being obnoxious and unpleasant, abrasive and rude. Just be careful, okay?"

"Okay".

"I just don't want you to get hurt," he added sincerely.

"Right." With that Louisa picked up her plate, binned the rest of her meal, and sent Michael on his way, giving him a quick peck on the cheek and promising to be more attentive on Friday.

After he left, she went back to her budget figures, but had difficulty concentrating. She did like Michael; he was fun-loving and attentive. He was always good for a laugh and he was a great dancer, definitely the life of any party. He was a good doctor. And a good kisser; she had to admit that she enjoyed their tender moments. But she didn't feel the chemistry that she wanted to feel from a lover. If she didn't sense that chemistry at the onset of a relationship, would it ever come, or would she become resentful when things got difficult? All marriages have their ups and downs, but what about those that didn't have their ups?

"Plenty of time to think that through," she told herself. "I must get back to this budget or I'll never get to sleep tonight." She pulled the papers back onto the table and started to work. Images of Martin floated through her mind, the expression on his face when he was staring at her and didn't think she was looking, so tender and full of longing. She just couldn't picture him being as obnoxious as Michael's friend implied….although he was rude to Maura at the football match. But he was so sweet the rest of the visit. She threw up her hands in defeat, "Aaack! This isn't helping. Maybe I should just open that bottle of wine and turn on the telly for a few minutes. Get these men out of my head."

And that's just what she did. Wine in hand, she curled up on the sofa, and clicked on the remote. Moments later, Lizzie was on Louisa's lap, purring like a finely tuned motor. "Where have you been all evening little miss?" She stroked Lizzie's fur, the cat purred, and the comedy on the telly made her laugh, and all thoughts of men … and sex … and marriage … and the distant ticking of her biological clock flew from her mind.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 **

"Morwenna…uh…Ms Newcross, would you change my train reservation from Paddington to Bodmin Parkway from the 14:06 to the 17:03 train? And call Ms Glasson at this number and tell her that I've been delayed and won't be able to meet with her this evening….Uhh…and tell her I hope to see her at my Aunt's farm to meet with the architect at 9am tomorrow." With that he handed Morwenna Louisa's number and sped off to theatre to take care of an emergency aortic aneurysm repair. If all went well, he should be able to arrive at Aunty Joan's farm by 10 or half ten at the latest.

Morwenna did as she was asked, changing his reservation and then calling Louisa. After she gave her the message, Louisa responded in a manner that completely took her by surprise by saying, "How disappointing; I was so looking forward to seeing Martin. I had planned a nice dinner. Do you know what has delayed him?"

She had not worked for Mr. Ellingham more than six months, but in all that time, no one had ever said they were looking forward to seeing him, annoyed to have to reschedule perhaps, but not planning a nice dinner for him. Perhaps this Ms Glasson wasn't the designer or decorator she had assumed. Well, she thought, his personal life really was none of her business; her grandfather had drummed that into her head before she started working for Mr. Ellingham. "I believe he is in theatre, emergency surgery. Can I tell him you will be able to meet him tomorrow morning then?"

"Yes, yes of course. Tell him I will be there. Thank you for calling."

After he had forwarded the studies on brain injuries in football players, she had sent him the recipe for the marinade she had used on the fish when he visited, and then a second recipe she thought he should try. They continued an occasional e-mail correspondence, and he had sent her some of the ideas he had for changes to the farm house and asked for her input. Aunty Joan would be reluctant to make any but the most essential practical changes, but he was thinking of ways to make it more of a family holiday home. He had enjoyed the time spent with Louisa in her home which seemed to him both tastefully furnished and welcoming, and he hoped that she might have some practical ideas for the renovation.

Martin had scheduled two architects and a highly regarded contractor to meet with him at Aunty Joan's place on the third weekend in November. He had planned to take the train down on Friday afternoon and had arranged to meet Louisa at her home for dinner before driving on to Aunty Joan's house. He had asked her if she would be free to meet with one or more of these consultants on Saturday or Sunday. She had responded in the affirmative and invited him for dinner when she found out he was arriving early on Friday.

A week before his trip, he received a call from Louisa asking if he would also be available on Saturday to have dinner with her and a few friends, just a quiet evening with four of her close friends from the village. He was reluctant because he was not comfortable around strangers, and he had stammered something about not wanting to intrude. She assured him that she would like to introduce him to her friends and that he would not intrude at all. In fact, she hoped he could help her with the preparation, and she promised to keep him busy with cutting, chopping and sautéing while he got more comfortable with the others. So he had agreed. He had wanted to spend as much time with her this weekend as possible, and wasn't sure how the evening with her friends would work out; but he consoled himself knowing they would have their own visit just the two of them Friday evening and he would have to be satisfied with that.

When his assistant called cancelling their Friday evening plans, Louisa was disappointed. She was beginning to think of him as more than just Joan's nephew, someone with whom she did seem to have some chemistry. Now with Friday evening cancelled and Saturday evening with others, there would be little time to see if there really was something there, not this trip at any rate. That was the problem, wasn't it, with a long distance relationship; there were always going to be conflicts. She really shouldn't get her hopes up. At least she would see him Saturday morning at Joan's when they were scheduled to meet with the architects and possibly Sunday morning as well; she was pleased that he felt comfortable asking her to join them, and she felt it would give her an opportunity to see another side of him. The portrait of Martin that Michael's friend had relayed was not flattering, and she wanted to see if he was as arrogant and rude as he had described.

They met with the first of the two architects, Geoffrey Trewin, in the morning; he had quite a few ideas that intrigued both Martin and Louisa. Joan was more sceptical, but having Louisa enthusiastic about the ideas helped her accept some of them. She prepared a light lunch which they were just able to finish before the second architect, Ron Jordan, arrived at half twelve. His approach was different from the first. Where Geoffrey proposed a more traditional Cornish farmhouse design for the main living area, Ron was keen to open things up with lots of glass and industrial appliances. By the time he left at three in the afternoon, Louisa had to make her good-byes in order to get her dinner party preparations in hand. She asked Martin to arrive at half five to help set out the starters and finish the main course.

Joan really could see no sense in making all the changes that they had discussed. Certainly she could see a need for updated fixtures in the bathroom and possibly in the kitchen, but the need to add another bathroom upstairs and one downstairs seemed extravagant to her. And why open up the lounge with more windows that would leak and run up the heating bill, even if Marty were willing to pay for it. It made no sense to her at all until Martin said, "I think it could make a nice family holiday home, if I ever had a family; and if not, it would be easier to let during the season if it were updated once you no longer have need of it."

Now she started to understand, and in her blunt way, replied, "You mean when I'm dead."

"Ummm" He lowered his eyes and looked away.

"Well we all have to go sometime, don't we Marty? And the farm will be yours once I do go, although I can't see you as a farmer."

She continued, "So is there something you have failed to tell me? Are you seeing someone; are you planning to marry soon? You need to bring her down here. It's not that Edith woman is it?"

"No, no. There's no one special yet, but I haven't ruled it out. And that Edith woman, as you call her, would be beyond childbearing age by now or soon."

Joan had been hoping that perhaps Martin had slotted Louisa into the potential wife position, and she made a point of watching the interaction between the two of them all morning. She had been happily surprised that he had involved her in the planning, and had wondered if he was wooing her. She noted as she observed them that they were friendly, but their behaviour towards each other seemed more like professional colleagues than potential lovers, debating the finer points of kitchen design and traffic flow in the main living area of the house. She did notice each observing the other during the day. Martin would let his gaze linger a bit too long when Louisa would offer an opinion; and on occasion, Louisa seemed especially interested in Martin's interactions with the architects, almost as if she were assigned the task of completing an evaluation form. It was odd, but then things with Martin were never straightforward or easy; she remembered that from his childhood. She decided to forgo tact and asked him straight-out. "What about Louisa?"

He had picked up some of the paperwork the first architect had left and was examining it, "What? What about Louisa?"

"Is she someone special?"

He raised his head and started to bluster, "She ... she..." He paused and then added in a more normal voice, "I don't know."

"_Fair enough_" she thought as she looked down and placed her finger against her nose replying with a simple, "Ahh..."

"Emmm….There's something else I'd like to discuss, now that you've brought up the matter of inheritance. I've taken a look at the title you sent me and see that Dad's name is still on it from the time Uncle Dick's will conveyed the property to you both. That could prove a complication when you do go."

Martin had discussed the legal issues with respect to her ownership of the property with her shortly after he had met with his solicitor and asked her to send him copies of the deed and any outstanding mortgage documents. She assured him there were no mortgage documents to be had, a sure way to lose the farm, borrowing on future crops. She and Phil had learned from Uncle Dick to set aside profits in the good years to help ride out the bad ones and had never taken out a loan. Some of their neighbours thought they were foolish not to invest in shiny new equipment or other fancy improvements, but they managed to make do and come out smiling. She was quite proud to have kept the farm intact when so many of her friends had lost theirs or had to sell out to developers.

"Ordinarily, the law of adverse possession would work in your favour since you have worked the land for more than the twelve years required and Dad hasn't set foot on it since he came down here to take me home the last time I stayed as a child. But since you share possession on the title, it could be a problem. I will get my solicitor to give us an opinion on the matter. I'd like for you to have clear possession before I invest too much in the house. Don't want Dad, or more likely Mum after Dad dies, to see the improvements and demand we sell so they can get their hands on the cash."

"He's never expressed an interest in the farm before; told me it was small potatoes, not worth his time, that Phil and I could have it. Why would he be interested in it now?"

"You are aware that property values in Cornwall have increased substantially in the past several years? He and Mum live an extravagant lifestyle. One bad investment and they would be looking for any source of cash they could find. Even without improvements to the house, the property is worth maybe five or six hundred thousand. If we improve the house, it would be worth well more than that. Best to clear up the title before we start renovations…..except of course the boiler. How you have managed without reliable hot water is beyond me. Have you contacted any plumbers to see to that yet?"

Aunty Joan had contacted several firms specializing in plumbing and heating systems, had taken their brochures and had gagged at the prices they were quoting her. But she handed them over to Martin nonetheless. "Here you go. As you are paying for it, I will let you decide which model and company should do the work. Martin took a quick look at the information Joan handed him, and realizing that he needed to leave for Louisa's in less than an hour, put them aside in his bag.

.


	17. Chapter 17

It had started raining buckets just before he left the farm, and the forecast was for a heavy storm to last all night. Joan had insisted that he put his bag in the car with his toiletries and spare clothes. "The road has been known to flood during these storms; you may have to find a room for the night in the village." Martin thought that unlikely, but put his bag in the boot just to keep his aunt happy.

He knocked on Louisa's door promptly at five-thirty and was pleasantly surprised when she opened right away. "Martin, so nice to see you. Come in quickly out of that rain." She opened the door a little wider and moved aside for him to come through. "Ready to get to work?" She noticed the bag he was carrying and exclaimed, "Oh, you are bearing gifts!"

He glanced down and then opened the bag and tilted it in her direction so she could see. "Yes, Aunty Joan sent a pear tart for pudding and I brought a bottle of wine, but you can save them for later if you wish."

"Noooo. We can always use an extra bottle of wine and the tart will be perfect. I will have to thank Joan next week."

Louisa was wearing simple black slacks with a lacy white top and a cabled red cardigan. She wore her long dark hair loose framing her face. Even with the frilly white apron covering her outfit, Martin thought she looked stunning. He knew he should say something, pay her some compliment. His memory of lessons learned in his dream told him he needed to do this much, but he was at a loss as to what he should say so he mumbled, "you look very nice tonight.", and he was rewarded with a bright smile and a "Thank you, Martin."

He dropped his gaze and noticed her feet shod in soft black ballet flats, and then added approvingly, "mmm…sensible shoes."

The smile that had spread across her face briefly flickered with a look of puzzlement and she looked down at her feet, "_Sensible shoes? Okaay ... I guess that's a Martin Ellingham compliment, odd as it is." _As she looked up at him, her smile returned and laughing she replied,_ "_'yes, yes they are, I guess. They're very comfortable." She stepped back and quickly looked him up and down. "You look nice too, very elegant as usual." He was wearing another one of his fine suits, this one a dark gray, with a blue pinstriped shirt and a dark blue patterned tie and she found it incredibly sexy. She had always found well dressed men extremely attractive; but, in a fishing village, unfortunately, there were few well dressed men to be found. Even Michael tended towards chinos and knit shirts, even in his surgery, only dressing it up with an occasional tweed jacket in the colder months.

She took his raincoat and jacket and hung them up, and glancing up at him said, "I had a lot of fun today at Joan's."

He nodded, "Very productive day."

"What did you and Joan think about Geoffrey and Ron? Did you make any decisions?"

"They both had some good ideas. There's a lot to consider before we make any decisions."

Earlier, as they worked with the two architects, she had been pleased to notice that Martin had exhibited none of the difficult personality traits that Michael's friend had described. However, she did observe that he wasn't interested in nor did he even try to conform to the usual custom of exchanging pleasantries at the beginning of a meeting which, as a teacher, she might describe as a certain lack of social intelligence. While Joan and she were chatting about the weather and the crop harvest this year, Martin cut them short to get down to business. He was focused and direct, but always polite, never rude or gruff.

"Yes. I was thinking about some of the changes we talked about whilst I was making dinner preparations. I'd be happy to listen if you need to bounce any ideas around."

"Right. Thank you. Maybe later. Right now we need to get to work."

She led him into the kitchen and handed him an apron. Louisa had planned a Thai based meal and she had made some spicy Thai nuts and spring rolls as appetizers for her guests to enjoy as they arrived. She had planned to broil a fish with a coconut curry sauce, grill some skewered chicken with a spicy garlicky sweet and sour glaze, and serve a vegetable curry dish heavy with autumn vegetables. All would be accompanied by a Thai flavoured cucumber salad and lots of coconut rice. She decided to let Martin make the sauce for the fish and then task him with chopping vegetables to keep him busy when the guests first arrived. Indian curries were popular almost everywhere, but the Thai flavours were a new twist. The two of them worked in tandem and had a pleasant time discussing some of the ingredients that were new to them both and sampling the new flavours.

She had invited a few friends, villagers she thought Martin might enjoy meeting so she thought it would be good if he had some background information on each. "Our GP, Michael will be here. I've already told you about him. Then I've invited Alicia and Stefan Richards. Alicia and I grew up together here in the village. She's a fine artist; in fact that landscape in the lounge is one of hers." She pointed to a stylized painting of the village. Martin noticed that it was from the vantage of the bench up on the hill above his old surgery, or what had been his surgery in his dream. The painting evoked strong memories and the longing in his expression impressed Louisa. "I can tell that it moves you ... me too. I had to have it as soon as Alicia had finished it"

It had moved him, more than he cared to admit. "Right", was all the reply he could utter.

She continued. "Stefan is a solicitor in Wadebridge. He specializes in property law. There has been a surge of interest in Cornish property in recent years, and from what he says, I understand his practice has become quite busy. Everyone tells me that he is quite knowledgeable about the ins and outs of Cornish property exchanges."

"Really? I may need to consult with him about some problems with Joan's title."

"Okay ... but I don't want tonight's dinner conversation to evolve into a discussion of property law. You can meet with him later."

"Right."

"I've also invited Carrie Penrose, one of my teachers, year four. She also runs our music program. She plays the piano beautifully as well as the flute." She grinned. "Unfortunately I don't have a piano or flute in the cottage so you'll just have to take my word for it."

"Umm ..."

Louisa turned back to the dinner prep, and suddenly Martin jumped at the feel of something touching his leg. It was Louisa's cat and she was rubbing against his trousers. It had taken her an hour or so, but she recognized his scent from his previous visit and, now that it was tea time, she had come to make her hellos. "Oh God! It's your cat. Why does it creep up on me like that?"

"She doesn't creep up on you; she comes in on little cat feet. She can't help that her paws don't make any noise." Louisa paused for a moment before taking the dinner plates down from the cupboard. "Didn't some poet once compare fog to little cat feet?"

"Yes, Carl Sandburg ... American. 'The fog comes on little cat feet…' An apt metaphor"

Louisa picked up Ms. Lizbeth and petted her head and under her chin. Lizzie began to purr. "Here, Martin, give her a scratch under her chin. She will love you forever if you do."

Martin looked at her as if she were mad, "Certainly not, and you will need to wash your hands before you resume food preparations."

Louisa gave her a final quick snuggle and put her down; then realizing that it was time for Lizzie's tea, opened up a tin of cat food and put it in her dish. Ms. Lizbeth pounced on her meal as if she hadn't eaten in weeks. Louisa dutifully washed her hands under the watchful eye of the renowned London surgeon, then laughing, held them up for inspection, "Clean enough?"

He examined her hands quickly, and he replied in earnest, not realising that she was flirting. "Yes, good."

The time quickly passed, and soon they heard a loud knock. Louisa answered the door to greet Michael who arrived bearing the obligatory bottle of wine. Martin noticed him give her an enthusiastic hug and a quick kiss full on the lips while asking, "Anybody else here yet, love?"

Louisa pulled away quickly shaking her head, embarrassed that Martin had seen the embrace, something she should have anticipated from Michael, but didn't, and replied, "Yes, Martin's here. He arrived early to help with the cooking. Come in and meet him." She headed toward the kitchen followed closely by Michael, who was determined not to cede his territorial claims on Louisa. As they entered the kitchen he draped his arm around Louisa's shoulders. She looked up at him curiously and slipped away to check on her fish. He sensed that Martin was a potential rival and he saw this evening as a competition to see who could claim the lovely Louisa as his own; he had obviously lost the first round because she had invited Martin to come early. His kiss and embrace should have evened the score, but they were not reciprocated as enthusiastically as he would have hoped so he felt he was currently tied at best and perhaps a few points down.

Ms. Lizbeth heard Michael's voice and immediately ran for the stairs and was up under the bed in a flash. Louisa noticed her fly by as she and Michael walked into the kitchen and she thought to herself, "_Funny how she runs whenever Michael comes over. Odd really; I can't see why. Maybe there's too many people for her. At least now I don't have to worry about her jumping on the table or frightening Martin!"_

As Louisa introduced them, Michael offered Martin his hand, "So nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"Yes," Martin replied taking his hand with a scowl. If he had been thinking in terms of a competition, he would have felt he had already lost. The man looked like a matinee idol with the kind of manly good looks most women swoon over, almost as tall as himself with the lean athletic body of a long distance runner. There was no way someone like he with his odd looks could be attractive to a lovely woman like Louisa when someone like this O'Leary fellow was available. Even his prestigious position in one of the best hospitals in the country couldn't overcome his lack of physical attributes. It was obvious from his intimate greeting that he and Louisa were more than casual friends. Why didn't Louisa tell him she was involved with this man; why didn't Aunty Joan warn him? He was ready to bolt.

Louisa could sense his unease and she came to his side smiling up at him, and put her hand on his arm as a gesture of assurance. She turned to Michael and trying to break the ice between them said, "I've told Martin all about you Michael, what a wonderful doctor you are and how happy we are to have you here in the village. Martin is a surgeon in London. I would think that as medical men, you two might have a lot to talk about."

"Perhaps", replied Martin, feeling more comfortable with Louisa by his side.

"Actually Louisa, general practice and surgery are quite different types of medicine, aren't they Martin? Surgeons just deal with bodies, open them up, make the repairs and close em back up again, whereas GP's have to deal with their patients as people, develop a good bedside manner."

"Mmm ..." A vision from his dream of Louisa criticising his lack of people skills flew through his mind. Wasn't it strange how Michael focused on that particular difference in their professions, the one that highlighted his own lack of people skills.

The bell rang again and Louisa quickly answered ushering her friend Carrie into the kitchen. "Martin, this is my friend and colleague, Carrie Penrose; Carrie, this is Martin Ellingham."

Carrie was a young woman, perhaps not quite 30 years of age, tall and willowy with a full head of unruly auburn hair tied up with a teal blue scarf to match her long flowing skirt and loose sweater. She held out her hand which Martin took almost reluctantly. "Nice to meet you Martin. Louisa has told me so much about you that I've really been looking forward to meeting you." She looked him up and down noticing the spatula in his hand and added, "She told me you're a good cook and I see she's put you to work." Turning to Louisa, she added, "Good work Louisa, Always keep the men busy I say; keeps them out of trouble."

"Humph, I'm not in the habit of causing trouble", muttered Martin.

"Really? That's not what I heard. Something about a brouhaha over at the football pitch?" Carrie laughed, and then added, "Actually I'm glad you said something. I've always worried about the children getting injured and those studies you sent to Louisa certainly were compelling. Now we just have to get all the parents and coaches on board."

"Yes. Good. Glad it was helpful" Martin was gratified to hear that Louisa had addressed the issue with the community, and that his research, or rather Ms. Newcross' research, had not been in vain. He found that he rather liked Louisa's friend, Carrie and gave her a tentative smile.

The bell rang again and in rushed Louisa's friend Alicia towing her husband Stefan behind her, exclaiming "Evening everyone! What a miserable storm we're having!" Alicia was an exuberant type and with the cry of "hugs all round" was in the process of giving each of them a big affectionate hug. She came up to Martin and cried, "You must be Martin", and she lunged at him with open arms. He moved a few feet to the side and she fell against the counter. Undeterred, she cried, "Oh no, you don't Mr. Ellingham. I see what your apron says and I intend to follow the instructions." Louisa had given Martin a simple royal blue apron to wear while preparing the meal, but he had not noticed that it had 'KISS THE COOK' emblazoned in white across the chest. He looked down to see what it was Alicia was talking about and while he was thus distracted, she reached up, put her hands on his shoulders and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Martin was horrified, but before he could react, Michael had taken that moment to approach Louisa with a gleam in his eye, "Seems like both cooks deserve a kiss." He wrapped his arms around her, leaned her back, and gave her a long smouldering kiss. Or that's what it would have been if Louisa hadn't pushed him away, also horrified, "Michael, that's totally inappropriate. I honestly don't know what's gotten into you tonight." By the smell on his breath, she knew exactly what had gotten into him; he must have stopped by the pub on his way over tonight for a few pints.

You could hear a pin drop. Louisa glared at Michael, and Michael rocked back and forth on his feet grinning, satisfied that he had shown Martin that he had the greater claim on Louisa. Martin was looking mortified and confused at the same time, and the others seemed stunned, looking first at Martin, then at Michael, then at Louisa, gradually understanding what had just happened. Stefan broke the spell, walking over to Michael with a bottle in his hand, "Give me a hand with the drinks will you, Mike?" Louisa had set up a bar area on the sideboard, and as Stefan steered Michael in that direction, he quietly advised Michael, "If you're hoping to impress Louisa, it's not working. Best to straighten up and try to make Martin at ease. That will make her appreciate you more than anything else".

Louisa picked up the spiced nuts and offered them to Alicia, then picked up a spring roll to nibble on herself. Martin stood there watching it all and wondering to himself just what he had gotten into. His inclination was to grab his coat and make his excuses, but he had promised Louisa he would help with the preparations and he always tried to make good on his promises, but things were definitely getting out of hand. "Ummm….Louisa, could I have a word?" He made his way to the far side of the lounge, nodding for her to follow. "Perhaps I should leave. I know that I promised to help with the cooking, but it seems that I may just be in the way."

"No, no, no. Please don't leave. If anyone is in the way, it's Michael; I think he had a few pints at the pub before he arrived and his spirits are up. It'll be okay. Please don't go. I'd like you to stay"

"You would?" He looked at her, eyes wide with wonder.

"Yes, I would," she smiled back at him.


	18. Chapter 18

After the rocky start, dinner proceeded smoothly. Michael was uncharacteristically quiet, but conversation never lagged. Louisa had a small oval table, and with the leaf was just able to fit the six of them around it. She seated Martin and Stefan on either side of her, with Carrie between Stefan and Michael and Alicia between Michael and Martin. Carrie had been smitten with Michael since she arrived in the village a little over a year ago, but had never acted on her feelings because she knew there was something between her boss, Louisa and the handsome American doctor. Although Louisa had not said anything to indicate that she and Martin were anything more than casual friends, she sensed that things had changed. So when she found herself seated next to Michael at dinner, Carrie took the opportunity to pay special attention just to him. While Louisa was cordial to all her guests this evening, she was pointedly cool towards Michael. Carrie could tell that Michael was feeling left out and she was determined to fill the void, engaging him in conversation to the exclusion of the others.

Alicia and Stefan had just returned from an off-season trip to Italy to nourish their interest in Italian art and Louisa was anxious to hear about it. Martin found the conversation interesting because he had travelled some in Italy after a few conferences and had found Venice particularly intriguing. He had picked up several pieces of Venetian glass on his trips there, a few vases, two goblets and a tumbler that he was particularly fond of. Alicia and Stefan had spent most of their time in Tuscany and had high praise for the region.

As dinner progressed, Louisa mentioned the work Martin had planned for Joan's farm. He took the opportunity of asking Stefan if he could consult with him regarding some complications with the title. Louisa immediately reminded Martin that no business was to be discussed this evening and suggested that they all retire to the lounge for coffee and Joan's pear tart. Martin took the hint and started to clear the table, putting the dishes in the sink to wash up later. Louisa put on the coffee and Alicia served up the tart.

Stefan was curious as to the title problems Martin had mentioned and cornered him once they sat down. Martin explained the problems and Stefan assured him that he was familiar with this kind of complication. It was not unusual for farm property in Cornwall to have been passed down in the same family for generations, and actual ownership was frequently in dispute when it was time to sell. There were ways to resolve the issue and Stefan gladly agreed to consult with Martin and his London solicitor the following week to offer potential solutions.

As they were finishing up their coffee, they heard a knock on the door. Officer Billy Teague noticed that Louisa appeared to have visitors that evening. The storm had flooded several of the roads out of town and he was trying to warn as many people as possible to steer clear of those roads to avoid potential accidents. He noticed Martin in the group, and told him that the road to Joan Norton's farm was flooded and that he'd have to get a room at the pub. "Better call down there now; it's likely to get full up in this weather."

"You can stay here," Louisa offered. "I have a spare room."

"Are you're certain?"

"Of course. I wouldn't offer otherwise."

Billy was soaking wet and Louisa asked if he would like to stop in for a warm cup of coffee, but he begged off as he had a few more stops to make before heading home, although he felt certain that he had a long night ahead of him.

His call signalled the end of the evening and Alicia and Stefan headed for the door making their good-byes as they gathered up their raingear. They did not live far out of the village and their road did not usually flood, but they felt it was best to get going while they could. Carrie took this moment to take Martin aside and speak with him as she had not had a chance to spend much time with him earlier in the evening. Louisa noticed Martin nodding agreeably while Carrie spoke with him. He even seemed enthusiastic about whatever they were discussing. Martin wasn't the easiest man with whom to talk and she wondered how Carried had managed to draw him out.

Michael reached for his coat in the cupboard and took the opportunity before he left to speak with Louisa to apologize for his earlier behaviour. He wasn't happy that Martin would be staying in Louisa's spare room, but knew he couldn't change tonight's outcome; however, he could make plans for next week when the disagreeable surgeon was back in London. "Sorry about earlier Lou… stopped by the pub before I came and was a little too merry when I got here. Can I make it up to you by taking you to dinner some night this week?" He looked so contrite and had conducted himself so well during dinner that Louisa gave him an affectionate hug and assured him that all was forgiven, "I'd like that ... perhaps on Thursday?" He returned the hug, grinned at her, and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, "Thursday it is. 'Night."

Carrie said goodnight to Louisa as well, and Michael helped her on with her coat and offered to walk her home. She happily accepted his offer and they headed out the door together.

Martin noticed the exchange of affections between Louisa and Michael, once again feeling a pang of jealousy. He had told his Aunt that he didn't know what he was feeling towards Louisa, but now he had to admit to himself that he was interested and wasn't happy that she was so friendly with this American. However, Michael was leaving and he was staying. He needed to get his things so he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. "Louisa, I must go out to my car as well. Aunty Joan insisted that I take my bag with me for just this possibility. I'll go get it and then come back and help clean up."

"Good," replied Louisa, briefly thinking once again that Martin's verbal frugality might be rubbing off on her.

With Martin off to his car, Louisa started to store away the leftovers. She thought over the evening and felt that it had gone well once Michael had been subdued. She owed Stefan a big thank you for speaking to him and changing the course of the evening. Despite their common interest in medicine, she sensed that neither Michael nor Martin cared for the other, an antagonism she couldn't understand given that they had never met before this evening. It was good that she had separated them during the meal. Carrie had kept Michael entertained all during dinner and, although he never once cracked a smile, Martin had seemed to enjoy himself. And she learned a little more about him. Who would have guessed that he was an expert in Venetian glassware? Of course he would have interests other than medicine, but Venetian glassware? It could be fun exploring the depths that made up Martin Ellingham if they were to spend more time together.

By the time Martin had returned with his bag, she had put away all the leftovers and had started washing up the dishes. He put the "KISS THE COOK" apron back on, picked up a tea towel and started to dry.

"Should you call your Aunt so she won't worry?"

"No, it's much too late. She'll be asleep; she will know why I'm not there in the morning."

When they finished up, Louisa put the kettle on, offering Martin a cup of tea before bed.

They took their cups into the lounge and relaxed. For Martin, it had been a long night and he was grateful for the quiet time to unwind. Louisa quietly sipped on her tea and then casually asked, "I hope you had a pleasant evening. You and Carrie seemed to be getting on just before she left."

"Yes. She has an antique clock her grandparents left her which she has not been able to get running. She asked me if I would take a look at it the next time I was in the village. Perhaps I can help her with it."

"Oh." Louisa felt a slight pang of jealousy which sprang from who knew where. She suddenly didn't want to share Martin's Cornwall time with anyone other than his Aunt Joan._"_Sorry about Michael and his antics when everyone was arriving. I'm glad you stayed. He really was an arse," she added giggling.

Again Martin felt what was becoming all too familiar, a pang of jealousy. Even though he considered her merely a new acquaintance, he knew he wanted to know her better. He knew that Michael was also interested, apparently had been seeing Louisa long enough to greet her with a hug and kiss, and that he would be seeing a lot more of Louisa than Martin ever could back in London. Looking down at his hands clenched in his lap, Martin muttered, 'You and he seem to be close."

"Perhaps. We've been seeing each other off and on almost since he arrived, right after he and his fiancé broke up. He's been pressing me to get more serious, but I don't know. I just can't see it going anywhere if he's headed back to America in a year."

"You wouldn't be willing to leave Portwenn?" This was important. Martin needed to know; if she was opposed to living anywhere else, he would pull back. He couldn't imagine moving to Portwenn; it just wasn't an option.

"Oh possibly, but the man would have to be really, really special. And Michael ... well I am very fond of him and he's a lot of fun, but sometimes he can overdo it. I mean, I'm no goody two shoes. I like my wine and sometimes I enjoy getting a little tipsy, but only on special occasions, not every day. I was really annoyed with him tonight. There was no reason for him to have arrived already 'happy'." Louisa absentmindedly stroked Ms. Lizbeth, who had come down to join them in the lounge and had settled in her lap.

"But you're seeing him next week?"

"Well yes, of course. He's a friend and I enjoy his company. Don't you go out with friends during the week?"

"No. I keep busy with work." She didn't need to know that he didn't have many friends he would want to go out with just to enjoy their company. He saw an occasional mate from medical school, like Chris, when they would meet at a conference or they were in London for a seminar, but not just to "hang" as the younger staff would say.

"_Such a dedicated man," _Louisa thought to herself_, "so serious, although he really seems kind and compassionate under that gruff exterior. I wonder ... Joan implied that his parents were indifferent to him. I wonder if he would have been different if his parents had been more loving."_

Changing the subject, she asked, "I know it's getting late, but I was wondering what you thought about the ideas that we discussed with Ron and Geoffrey today?" Louisa was curious about Martin's impressions of the two architects they had met earlier in the day and their different approaches to his project.

As he went over the pros and cons of each man's ideas with her, Louisa could see that Martin was a traditionalist by nature and was inclined to retain as much as possible of the farmhouse atmosphere where he had spent so many happy summers. She understood, and then added her thoughts that that the main living areas could use more light and an open flow. She could see how removing a wall here or there could make entertaining friends and visitors more convivial and thought the openness would encourage family togetherness while on holiday. Her thoughts were important to Martin and he appreciated her insights and asked for any other ideas she might have had while they were looking over the house that day.

"Let's see what the contractor has to say tomorrow. Hopefully the rain will stop overnight and the roads will be passable. Anyway it sounds like you won't be able to start until you settle the title issues you were discussing with Stefan."

With that they decided to retire. Louisa showed Martin the spare room and pulled out a towel and flannel. "You may use the bathroom first. I'm just going to go back down and make sure the house is locked up and everything in the kitchen is off."

"Yes. Ahem… Thank you for letting me stay. I'll see you in the morning."

"Yes. Good night. Oh…one more thing. Make sure you close the door tightly."

He tilted his head curiously, "Why?"

"You might wake up with a kitty snuggled up next to you in the morning if you don't".

"Oh God."


	19. Chapter 19

They met with the contractor, Morgan Prouse, the next day and all three of them liked him tremendously. His manner was direct and straightforward, a true professional with whom Martin was certain he would be able to work. Both Joan and Louisa found him personable and easy to talk to, listening to and addressing their concerns from both a practical and an aesthetic point of view. Louisa recognized him as the contractor who had done the work on her friend Sally's cottage a few years ago. She remembered admiring the workmanship on the cottage and how pleased Sally had been when her renovations had come in on time and within budget.

While the architects tended to focus on design, Morgan was focused on the execution, the nuts and bolts of making those design considerations work in an older house. With Louisa's help, Martin summarised the design ideas that they had discussed with the architects the day before and indicated those which he was seriously considering. Morgan made extensive notes as Martin and Louisa talked over potential changes and he noted Joan's reticence as well, reassuring her that they could do most of the renovations with minimal disruption to her daily routine. He then went through the house with the three of them, recapping their thoughts to confirm he understood and then offering suggestions for modifications to keep the costs down while achieving the same final result. By the time he was ready to go, even Joan could agree with his tactful suggestions about reconfiguring the downstairs den into a bedroom and bath to make it easier on her if she ever started having difficulty with the stairs. Her knees were already starting to give her trouble, although she would never admit that to Marty.

Martin had hoped to take his aunt and Louisa out to lunch after Morgan had left, but Joan insisted that they stay and have some of the chicken she had cooked the night before. Whilst they ate, they discussed most of the ideas that Morgan had offered and made some tentative decisions. Louisa and Martin did the washing up and then, because there was still an hour left before he needed to leave, the two of them walked out through the fields to view the sea.

"It is so beautiful here. When you were little did you walk these cliffs often?"

"Every day that it wasn't raining, and sometimes even on those days. There were always chores to be done and I loved following Uncle Phil around the farm. Sometimes he would let me ride on the tractor with him."

"I never really knew him; he died whilst I was still quite young."

"Yes. I was sad when I was told he had died. I would have liked to have said good-bye."

"I thought he was sick for some time. You weren't able to see him then?"

"No, I was told when I was twelve that my visits to the farm were over. My Dad thought I should start devoting all my time to my studies. Uncle Phil became ill and died just a few years later. No one told me he was ill."

"Oh."

The rain from the night before had left the air clear and crisp and they stood on the edge of the cliff looking out over the deep blue of the sea. The day was seasonally cool, but the wind off the sea made it seem much cooler than it was; even so, they lingered there absorbing nature in all her glory watching the cumulus clouds sail across the sky. Louisa wrapped her coat more tightly around her as the wind whipped her pony tail around her face. "Look," she pointed out to sea, "Dolphins".

The dolphins were gracefully cruising parallel to the shore, coming up for air and then diving as they made their way up the coast. "Yes. Aunty Joan and I used to count them when we would see them on our walks. Appears to be a pod of approximately eight ... no, I think nine."

"Yes, I think you're right. It's always so exciting when we see them."

Still staring out to sea, Martin added, "We once counted a pod of forty-two, which I think is quite large." He was taken back to those early happy days of his childhood and a smile crept across his face. They stayed there another minute or two until Louisa shivered and said, "I think the air is turning colder."

"Yes, and it's getting late. We should head back."

As they turned to walk back to the farm, he added, "Thank you for taking the time to meet with Geoffrey and Morgan. I know you are busy."

"So you've decided, have you, on Geoffrey, not Ron?"

"Yes, I think so. I prefer a more traditional approach. I believe the two of them will prove to be satisfactory. And you've been a great help. I appreciate your input."

"My pleasure. I'm sure Joan will be happy and you too, once the house is made more comfortable."

"Yes."

"Martin ... You know ..." Louisa wanted to tell him something, but wasn't sure how to say it without seeming too forward.

"No, I don't. What?"

By now they were approaching the house. She looked down and nervously swung her arms forwards and back. "I just wanted to say ... that I have enjoyed getting to know you ... and I hope we will see more of you here in the future."

He stopped as they were just within a few yards of the house and turned to look at her. "Yes. Good. I expect you will. I plan to return over the holidays. Perhaps we can meet up then."

She grinned brightly and shook her head up and down. "Yes, yes. Good."

When he arrived home that evening, Martin went over all of the information he had gathered over the weekend and again made up his to-do list. First off was to contact his solicitor, Mr. Graves and set up a conference call with Stefan. The sooner the title was cleared, the sooner he could get all of this work started.

Getting the work started. He sat back in thought. What was he doing? Did he really want to get so involved with his Aunt's farm, with Portwenn, with family complications?

He thought back to the evening at Louisa's when they had quoted the Robert frost poem. It made him think of another Frost poem, one he had encountered early in his public school days, _The Road not Taken_, that started "_Two roads diverged in a yellow wood"_ The last two lines were "_I took the one less travelled by, And that has made all the difference_". As a young man, he had trouble fitting in, trouble making close friends, and he had decided that he would take the less travelled road. He would focus on his studies and then his work, leaving the social and family complications to others, to the majority who took the more heavily travelled path through life. He would take what some might consider a lonelier path, but one that could ultimately be more fulfilling. He would devote himself to healing the sick, and for him that would make the difference in his life.

So what was he doing jumping head first into Joan's life…and perhaps Louisa's life? What was he doing, he kept asking himself. Perhaps he should give Aunt Ruth a call; she seemed to be on the same less travelled path as he. Both his aunts were fonts of common sense. And both spoke their minds without any hesitation. But Aunt Ruth was even less likely to sugar coat her thoughts than Auntie Joan. He added Aunt Ruth to his to-do list.

He, Joan and Louisa had discussed many different ideas over the weekend and he needed to organize those ideas into a game plan. First, all the plumbing in the house needed to be replaced. And the single bathroom needed to be gutted and redone with modern fixtures. If, and it was just an 'if' at this point, he wanted to spend more time in Portwenn, then he needed a refuge for himself with an en-suite bath and space for a study. He could use it as a place to write up his papers whilst keeping a regular eye on Auntie Joan.

The kitchen plumbing and appliances needed replacing. Did they want to redo the entire kitchen while they were at it, or wait until a later date? He would list all the possible changes, prioritize them and then contact Crouse to get some ball park cost figures so he could start to plan. Plumbing ... the boiler... no matter what else they did, a new boiler was essential. He put "contract to have the boiler replaced ASAP" at the top of his list. He was not spending the holidays without hot water.

He had decided to take some time off over the holidays to go back down and meet with the architect, Geoffrey Trewin and with Morgan Crouse. His old mate from medical school, Chris Parsons, held a Boxing Day open house every year and Martin was always included on the guest list. When he called to let Chris know he was coming, Chris teased him by asking if he were going to bring anyone special this year. It was a question Chris asked every year, and it had become something of an inside joke between them, Martin answering, "Well" with a long pause, "…..no." This year for the first time in the fifteen years Chris and Michelle had held these parties, Martin surprised him by saying he had an acquaintance in Portwenn that he might ask to join him if that was alright with them. "An acquaintance? Tell me more"

"Just someone I've become friendly with in Portwenn. Don't know if she's busy or not."

"A woman. Come on Mart; tell me more."

Martin would have liked to introduce her to his friends and get their opinion of her, but he was already starting to feel uncomfortable and regretted bringing it up. "Hmm. You know. She's probably already made plans. Forget it."

Chris knew his old friend well enough to know that he had pushed him too hard and backed off. "No, see if she can come. Both Michelle and I want you to feel you can bring a friend any time. Please see if she can make it. Okay, mate?"

"Maybe"

The weeks leading up to the Christmas holidays were some of the busiest of the year for Louisa There was the usual end of term work, ensuring that each teacher had covered the required material and that the students had learned what was necessary. She monitored the coursework closely throughout the term, but there always seemed to be a few children struggling towards the end of term and she had to arrange extra help to ensure they mastered the material. It was one of the ways she kept her little school at the top of the ratings. The school holiday preparations had to be organized, with after school practice for the holiday pageant and working with the parents committee for the holiday bazaar. She was also on several committees organizing the annual village holiday dinner dance. It was a highlight of the holiday season in Portwenn, and she liked being involved.

When Louisa and Michael met up for dinner that next week, Louisa was feeling frantic with the thought of what was coming up.

Michael had an easy way about him and knew how to make people comfortable. A glass of wine and a few jokes and he was certain that Louisa would forget the worry that she carried around with her every December. They usually met up at the pub, but he decided to make tonight special. One of his patients had recommended a new restaurant down the coast, a Greek restaurant. It was cosy and romantic and had received great reviews, particularly for its fresh seafood.

As they entered the restaurant, Louisa commented on the tasteful holiday decorations. "Michael, this is so nice. What made you think of coming here?"

"I just thought you deserved a nice evening away." He took her coat and gave his name to the host who guided them to their reserved table. The waiter took their drink order and then left them to peruse the menu. "Wow, everything here looks wonderful. I'm going to have a hard time deciding."

"I've heard that everything is really quite good. You know Amos MacMillan? He brought his wife down here for their anniversary two weeks ago and he had nothing but good things to say. It comes highly recommended."

Louisa laughed for Amos was renowned for his out-spoken opinions on everything. "Well, if Amos recommended it, it must be good." The waiter brought their drinks, asking if they were ready to order. "Give us a few more minutes, okay mate?"

"Certainly sir."

A nice glass of wine and a few of Michael's jokes did chase away the stress, at least for the moment. He really was a lovely man, Louisa thought. And he'd make beautiful babies. Why did he have to return to America?

As she looked over at him with an expression that was full of affection and perhaps love, he felt it might be a good time to try once again to win her over. He reached across the table and took her hand. "I'm heading home for two weeks around Christmas. Why don't you come with me? I'd really like to show you my home town. It's beautiful around the holidays."

She gave him a gentle smile, "That's sweet of you to ask, but you know I'm needed here. There's the school pageant and then the village holiday dinner dance; I'm head of the decorating committee this year. I can't possibly leave."

"I can see that you need to be here for the school pageant; that's part of your job. But couldn't you get someone else to take over the decoration committee?"

"I've committed to that and I can't just leave them in the lurch this late in the planning stages."

Just then the waiter came over, "Have you decided yet?"

"Louisa?"

"Yes." Louisa then asked the waiter about the preparation of the monkfish. He explained how it was usually prepared with capers, lemon and olive oil and was quite good, although it could be prepared anyway she preferred. She decided on the traditional house preparation and Michael placed his order as well.

When the waiter left, Michael sat back; he was frustrated beyond measure. Why would she not give him and America a chance? He leaned back across the table and took her hand in his, caressing her fingers and whispered, "Will you ever be free to travel home with me? I really think you would like it. It's a beautiful small fishing village just like Portwenn, but it's also close to Boston, where we could go to museums, concerts and plays. It was a wonderful place to grow up and I hope to raise my family there someday. Please promise me you'll come visit it sometime soon."

Louisa knew the real question that lay beneath his arguments for the trip he was proposing and she just couldn't imagine living somewhere so distant from the village she loved. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe someday. I'm sure it's very nice, and I would like to visit America eventually. But just for a visit. I wouldn't ever want to live there.

"Let's just enjoy dinner tonight and talk about something else. Okay? How has your week gone so far?"

He dropped her hand, looked down and fiddled with his silverware. "Not too bad. For early December, things are pretty quiet, no early flu outbreaks, no stomach viruses, not too many bad colds. Pretty routine. Let's just hope it stays that way until after I return from home."

'Yes, we've not had too many absences at school either. Of course it will get bad once we come back from the holidays. It always does. I try to encourage the kids to wash their hands, not share drinks, sneeze into their elbows, but we always end up with an outbreak anyway."

"Yes, only so much you can do." Michael had not been happy about Martin's staying the night with Louisa after the party, even if it was all purely innocent to start with. He was worried that it might not have stayed innocent. After all Ellingham was an Englishman, not an American. He knew that part of Louisa's reluctance to commit to him was the fact that he was American. What snobs these English were. "Your party this weekend…seemed enjoyable; think it went well? Too bad the weather was awful and Martin couldn't get back. Was he able to leave at a reasonable hour the next morning?"

"Yes, the water flooding the road to his Aunt's house had cleared by the time we got up, so he headed out to her house early. You know he's planning to do some renovations to her house and we met with a possible contractor before noon. Joan has a lovely farm, with beautiful views of the sea. But the house is a little ramshackle. It could be stunning if they fix it up right. Of course, the priority is just to make it more comfortable for Joan as she gets older, but I think Martin is looking to make an investment of it, possibly as a future holiday home for himself or to let."

The waiter brought their meal. They were both hungry and after a few bites, Michael commented that his lamb chops were excellent. "My fish is grilled to perfection as well; with the capers, lemon juice and olive oil, it is a fabulous way to prepare the fish. I'm going to have to try Greek preparations soon." Louisa was enjoying herself, but Michael brought the conversation back to Martin, who seemed to be just as unpleasant a chap as his friend had described. Did Louisa not see that?

"I really don't know why you've become involved with this Ellingham and Mrs. Norton. It's not like you are related to either of them or have any interest in the property. It's not like you are old friends, are you? I mean, you've just met him and now you're helping him fix up his holiday home. What on earth for? You have enough other things to do." Michael really didn't understand how Martin suddenly had become such a large part of Louisa's life in such a short time.

"I like him; he's a very interesting person. Actually I've never met anyone like him. We've become good friends and he values my opinion." Louisa was quite proud that this distinguished London surgeon had asked for her help. It was very flattering. "Plus Joan is a good friend and she is getting on in years. I think it is admirable that Martin is thinking of making things more comfortable for her."

"He values your opinion. Humph. I'll bet that's not all he values or wants. Did he try anything after we left? I noticed that he could barely keep his eyes off you the entire night." Michael was having trouble suppressing his inner green-eyed monster.

"No. He was a perfect gentleman, a perfect party guest. He helped me clean up and then we had a cup of tea and talked for an hour or so and then went to bed…in our own rooms." Louisa too had noticed Martin's frequent glances her way that evening; even now she felt a warm glow and she smiled to herself remembering.

Michael noticed the smile and grimaced. "Maybe he's gay."

"Michael!"

He signalled for the waiter and ordered another pint.


	20. Chapter 20

Martin had arranged to pick up Aunt Ruth at her home by 7am on Christmas Eve so they could drive down to Cornwall together. He hadn't had a chance to discuss the renovations to the cottage with her and hoped that the time in the car would provide the opportunity to go over his thoughts and concerns.

Aunt Ruth for her part was also looking forward to spending some time with her nephew. There was an underlying affection between them and they did occasionally get together at holiday times, but not every year. They were both Ellingham's after all and family intimacy was not high on their priority list. But Ruth did talk with her sister Joan fairly often and knew that Martin had been spending more time in Cornwall in the past few months than he had since he was a child. Joan was certain that it had to do with his interest in the local primary school headmistress. Ruth felt certain that she could get her nephew to open up.

"Has Joan told you about our plans to do some renovations to the cottage?" Martin knew he could be direct with Ruth.

"Yes. She said you had been down several times this fall to look in on her and decided that the house was falling down and needed some work."

"I wouldn't put it that way, but yes. Did you know that her boiler wasn't working? There was no hot water to be had in the house. That should be fixed for our trip this time. I arranged for some plumbers to fix it up right after my last trip."

"Yes, Joan did mention that the plumbers had been in the house for a few days mucking about, but that all was fixed up now. She didn't say she had been without hot water. Good to know that we won't be bathing in cold water in December"

"Likely there wouldn't have been any heat either, as the hot water flows through the radiator system as well. All the plumbing needs to be replaced. I actually wanted to talk with you about the repairs and renovations."

"I'm not sure I can be of any help. I'm no architect."

"No. I've hired an architect for that work, and I've made up a list of priorities. I just wonder if I am stepping in where I don't belong."

"And when has that ever stopped you?" Aunt Ruth couldn't help but wryly observe.

'Hmmm. … Yes But I keep wondering what I'm doing? I don't muck about in other people's business."

"Yes. I see what you mean." Ruth didn't muck about in other people's business either. "What prompted you to get involved here?"

Martin started to think about it out loud. "When I came down to visit in October, I was dismayed to see the conditions in which Joan was living. I remembered all the happy times I spent with her and Uncle Phil in the summers and holidays at the farm. You know, she and Phil treated me like their own child; I knew they loved me, and I care about her. I realized that I was in a position to help her out. It was a way I could repay her. I know she would not and perhaps could not, arrange to make the improvements on her own."

"What prompted you to visit her this fall?"

"I met someone in London from Cornwall this summer and was reminded of how long it had been since I had seen Auntie Joan."

"Ah, the teacher that Joan has mentioned."

"Joan has told you about Louisa?" He didn't like the fact that his two aunts were talking about him behind his back. For the first time, it occurred to him that Ruth may have agreed to this trip to find out more about his interest in Louisa, to compare notes, so to speak, with Joan. After all it had been years since the three of them had spent a holiday together.

"Said you've spent more time with Louisa than with her."

'Humph", Martin tucked in his chin, scowled and focused on the road.

"I take it that Joan is not the only reason you've been coming down to Cornwall."

Martin continued his focus on the road. Part of him wanted to discuss Louisa with his aunt, but what would he say? He still did not know what it was he thought about Louisa. She certainly wasn't the version of Louisa that still haunted his dreams occasionally. But if he was truthful with himself, and he wasn't sure he was ready for that, the real Louisa just might be even more appealing than her dream counterpart. He had to admit that she was very attractive and he certainly enjoyed the time he spent with her and he was definitely looking forward to spending time with her this visit. In fact he had hardly thought of anything else, but what did that mean? He didn't trust his feelings for her because they were all mixed up with his feelings for his dream Louisa ... and James; he needed time to sort it all out. He hoped an entire week in Portwenn would make things clearer one way or another. So he remained silent.

'Martin?"

"She's very nice and I enjoy her company." That much was true.

"Whatever can you find to talk about?"

"We both like to cook. And she introduced me to her friend Stefan who has been a tremendous help in getting Dad to relinquish his claim on the farm, and clearing up the title."

"Yes. I couldn't believe you managed to pull that off. I'd have thought he would have wanted to sell off half the land to get his hands on the cash even if he didn't need it. Have you spoken to him about it?"

"Didn't need to. The solicitors are taking care of it all. Of course it's not completely final yet, but it should be within a few weeks so we can start the renovations by the end of January."

A quiet descended over the car. Martin flipped through the radio stations until he found a classical music station and began to beat time on the steering wheel. Ruth pulled out her latest issue of the BJP and began to peruse the table of contents. She found an article relevant to her work at Broadmoor, but was unable to concentrate. She kept thinking about her nephew and what appeared to be his interest in this Cornish schoolteacher. Of course he was a man and undoubtedly the occasional attractive woman must have caught his eye, but she had no knowledge of anyone special since that awful Edith woman back in med school.

Ruth noticed Martin's expression change from his usual frown to almost a smile, and she suspected he was thinking of Louisa. "Is she pretty?" she asked.

"Quite beautiful I'd say." He had been thinking of Louisa, of possibly catching a glimpse of her at the church tonight or tomorrow or whenever Auntie Joan wanted them to go to commemorate Christmas, and then taking her to the Parson's open house on Boxing Day. He was picturing her in his mind's eye as he drove the M4 towards the southwest coast, her various expressions, her lovely smile, and the sound of her laughter. It made him happy just thinking of her, so he reflexively answered his Aunt's question truthfully. "_Damn."_

"I see." She grinned; she had got the truth out of him. No small accomplishment given that he was so guarded with his emotions. "Will I get to meet her, do you think?"

"I don't know. She might be at the church Christmas service. She will be at the village holiday dinner dance on Saturday. She's in charge of decorating the hall. Will you be staying for that?"

"I wasn't planning to leave until Sunday so I am sure that Joan will want to drag me there. When are you leaving?"

"I'm staying the week, driving back early on New Year's Eve. You're welcome to drive back with me if you want to stay."

"God no. Why on earth are you staying so long? Don't you have work to do; you always have had in the past. If you're staying that long, why don't you stay one more day and ring in the New Year with the beautiful Louisa?"

"I'm on call New Year's Day. I'm staying because I want to meet with the architect and the contractor while I'm down here, finalise the renovation plans and get them ready to start on the project as soon as the title is clear ... which is what I wanted to talk with you about."

"Well I'm not one to go about interfering either, but I think it's admirable of you to want to make Joan's "golden years" so to speak more comfortable."

"Yes. I'm certain that we should fix up the plumbing, modernize the kitchen, fix the staircase and repaint the entire house. I also think we should convert the workroom behind the stairs on the main floor to a bedroom with an en-suite. I could use it as a private bedroom and study when I come down occasionally and it would be available for Joan should she start having difficulty with the stairs. She's currently using it as a storage room for broken down junk. We could put it to much better use."

"That all sounds very practical."

"Good. There are other renovations that I'd like to make, but it would be best to discuss them when we get to the farm."

"Okay.' Ruth went back to her BJP article and Martin went back to daydreaming about Louisa.

Shortly after he turned onto the M5, Ruth asked him, "Are you in love with Louisa?"

"What?" Did he hear her question correctly?

"I said, are you in love with Louisa?" Aunt Ruth was not about to be put off.

"Wha…uh...hmm. " He sputtered. "I barely know her. How could I possibly be in love with her? Why ever would you ask that?"

"Just wondering, that's all." Ruth innocently replied. _"The boy doth protest too much, methinks."_


	21. Chapter 21

Louisa looked at herself in the mirror and was pleased with the image she saw. When Martin had called two weeks ago asking if she would be interested in joining him at a Boxing Day open house at the Truro home of one of his medical school friends, she had been surprised and pleased. She had been hoping to see him over the holidays while he was in Portwenn and attending a party and meeting some of his friends could be a lot of fun. As she put the final touches on her outfit, she had to laugh to herself because Martin could be so clueless; when she had asked if the party was dressy or casual, the line went quiet and she had to prompt him, "Martin?" After a few 'ums' and 'ahs', he finally admitted he had no idea, but offered to have Michelle, the wife of his friend Chris, call her and give her the details. She and Michelle had had an enjoyable conversation trading anecdotes about their students after discovering that they were both teachers.

Michelle had expressed her delight that Martin was bringing a friend, and they had a bit of a laugh at how oblivious he could be when it came to party attire. "He'll just wear one of his usual suits. I'm not sure he owns any other clothes." Michelle laughed.

"Yes, but he wears them so well," Louisa confided. "When I first met him, he was in a pair of hospital scrubs, but the next time I saw him, he was in one of his suits, and ... well, oh my ... so handsome ... so elegant." She then added with a chuckle. "I invited him to go hiking on the coastal path the first time he visited me in Portwenn, so instead of his suit, he arrived wearing dark khaki slacks and a navy blazer with a tie. He may have been the only hiker ever on the path in a tie! But I don't think I've seen him out of a posh suit since then."

"That's our Martin, 'Mr Elegance' personified. Well, Louisa, it's be fun chatting with you, but I need to go pick up Danny from football practice. I'm really looking forward to meeting you. See you soon."

"Same here". Louisa had been somewhat nervous about meeting Martin's friends, suspecting that they might be just as sophisticated and formal as he, but not after her conversation with Michelle. Michelle seemed to be just as down to earth as anyone in Cornwall, and Louisa was looking forward to the party as well as spending time with Martin.

So she looked once more into the mirror and was pleased with the casual, but tasteful, and dare she say it, elegant ensemble. A long sleeved silk blouse in teal showing just a hint of cleavage topped her mid-calf length skirt in a subtly printed wool crepe with just enough fullness that it swung ever so slightly when she walked. And then the most important piece of her ensemble, the soft suede boots. Hopefully Martin would find the two inch heel satisfactorily sensible, she giggled to herself.

Just then she heard his knock at the door. She looked in the mirror one last time to check on her make-up and then scooted down the stairs, opening the door with a smile. She had been looking forward to seeing him all month and had been disappointed that he wasn't at the church Christmas Eve service. Now he was finally here. She was so glad to see him that she spontaneously gave him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. 'Martin, it's so good to see you. Happy Christmas."

The colour rose in Martin's cheeks as he gingerly returned the hug and sputtered, "Umm…, Happy Christmas".

She led him inside and took a long look at his suit, dark blue with a red pin-striped shirt and a solid red tie. "Hmmm…almost festive enough, but not quite."

Martin gave her a puzzled look, "What's wrong. I'm appropriately attired."

"Almost. I've just the thing, and she turned round and picked up a box wrapped in festive Christmas paper, and handed it to him. "For you."

"Oh…thank you," he stammered as he took the gift from her, and stood there looking at her surprised.

"Open it." She commanded.

"Yes." He slowly unwrapped the present taking care not to tear the paper or stretch the ribbon. Inside was a silk tie in an abstract print reminiscent of Christmas trees in emerald green, sapphire blue and garnet. It was not a print he would have chosen on his own, but he had to admit it had a certain classic flair…for a Christmas themed tie. Remembering his manners, he muttered, "Umm ... It's very nice".

"I thought as a man of science it might appeal to you."

Again Martin was puzzled, and his face reflected his confusion.

"Look closely, it's a tessellation of a Sierpinski triangle*****." She traced the outline of several of the triangles with her forefinger.

"Ah yes ... hmm ..." The terms did ring a very faint note in the recesses of his mind. He looked more carefully as he began to recall something of the sort in an advanced geometry course focusing on fractals that he had taken as a diversion from his biology and chemistry courses years ago at university. But it had been a long time since. Suddenly he remembered and his eyes lit up, and he replied with enthusiasm. "Ah yes, I see it now; very clever. Yes. Yes, I like it."

"I thought you might. Now, let's put it on." She reached up to loosen his tie.

"First, I have something for you." He picked up a bag and shyly handed her a large box wrapped in silver foil with a silver and gold ribbon. Auntie Joan had impressed on him the importance of his giving Louisa a Christmas gift, and now he was very glad she did. He had planned on giving her a cookery book seeing how they both liked to cook. But then he was walking through the store a week ago when a red scarf caught his eye.

'Oh, how sweet." She thanked him and then unwrapped a beautiful red cashmere scarf. "Oh Martin, it's beautiful, so soft. Oh, you shouldn't have." She knew scarves like this one were extremely expensive, nothing she could ever afford to buy for herself. She ran her fingers over it and then wrapped it around her neck and shoulders. "I love it", and again she gave him a hug. "Thank you"

He stood there uncertain how to react and once again the colour rose in his cheeks as he gruffly replied, "You're welcome. I thought it would be useful this winter when it gets cold and windy." He wanted to tell her how beautiful he thought she looked when she wore red, but thought better of it.

"And I love the colour. It's a beautiful shade of red." She held it out in front of her and admired the colour.

"Yes, you look especially nice in red." He added softly, glancing down at his shoes.

She felt a thrill course throughout her body when she realized how much thought he had put into her gift and she looked up at him. She wanted to hold him in her arms and give him a lingering kiss, but she knew that was inappropriate at this point in their relationship. Instead she replied just as softly, "thank you."

"Ready to go?" Martin had taken her coat out of the cupboard and held it for her to put on.

"Yes, but first ... oh, you've already put on your Christmas tie. How did you do that so fast?"

"Years of changing from suit to scrubs and back several times a day. I could do it in my sleep. Probably have, in fact." He replied with a sly grin.

"Oh, I guess it would become second nature." It was a little thing, but it gave her a small insight into his life; she wanted, hoped, to learn more.

"Ready?" He was still holding her coat, so she straightened her new scarf and slipped on her coat and buttoned it.

Martin had driven his own car to Cornwall this visit, a large luxurious Lexus. They settled in and headed out of the village. Louisa turned to Martin and asked, "Tell me about Michelle and Chris. You knew Chris in medical school?"

"Yes. We were assigned to the same study group, not our choice. It was compulsory for research and preparing presentations and demonstrations in the first few years. Eventually we became close friends. Michelle is a musician. One of the other members of our group was dating a woman who was friends with her. He dragged us to a concert that they were giving, and Chris and Michelle hit it off. Michelle was always around after that. They were married just before we started our surgical studies.

"So you've known them both for a very long time then.

'Yes, more than twenty years."

"It will be fun hearing what they have to say about you."

"Hmmm…." Martin hadn't really thought about that. He wasn't really sure why he had invited Louisa to this open-house. He just wanted to have an excuse to spend time with her.

"Will there be many people there this afternoon?"

"I don't expect so. Mostly family, a few neighbours and close friends, maybe a few associates of each of them, but not many."

As they continued on their way to the party, each was lost in thought. Martin was thinking about how good he felt when Louisa hugged him and was wondering how he could get another. He looked over at her sitting next to him and let his left hand rest on the seat next to him. "_Damn these bucket seats_", he thought. _"Can't just gently slide my hand over to hold hers._"

Louisa for her part was confused and torn. Before he left for America, Michael had come over for dinner and they had ended the evening snogging on the couch in the living room like young teenagers. She had really been aroused and almost gave in when he pulled her to her feet and led her to the stairs. But once again her brain overrode the signals that her body was sending and she led him instead to the door, giving him a long lingering kiss goodbye before pushing him out into the cold night. It was thoughts of seeing Martin that had made her pull back. She had been looking forward to seeing Martin all month, and even as she was kissing Michael, thoughts of Martin would pop into her head. She looked over at the man sitting next to her and wondered what was it about him that she found so attractive. The chemistry between them was strong, she was certain of that even though they had never even kissed; but there was something else, something in his overall character that drew her to him as well. She glanced at him again and noticed his hand resting on the seat. She reached over and slipped her fingers under his. He looked over wide-eyed and she smiled. He returned his gaze to the road, but she noticed a slight smile cross his face and she felt the pressure on her fingers as he grasped them with his.

***A ****tessellation**** is a repeating pattern of a figure that completely covers a flat surface with no overlaps or empty spaces. In my story the figure is a triangle, but it can be any kind of figure that can be "tiled" onto a flat surface. M.C. Escher is famous for his many tessellations of all sorts of figures, among them animals such as lions, horses, squirrels and many others.**

**A ****Sierpinski triangle**** is an equilateral triangle (a triangle whose three sides are the same length) in which are inscribed successively smaller equilateral triangles. If you wanted to draw one, you would start with an equilateral triangle. Connect the midpoints of each side to create four more equilateral triangles inside the original one. Leaving the central triangle blank, repeat the procedure with the three outside triangles so that they each contain four such triangles inside. You can repeat this procedure as often as you like creating successively smaller triangles, resulting in a lace like pattern.**


	22. Chapter 22

The Parsons lived just outside of Truro in an old farmhouse they had renovated several years before. Martin parked the car and went to open the door for Louisa. As they walked toward the house, he placed his hand gently at her elbow to steady her, "The walk is a little uneven here", and he indicated with his other hand the direction toward the entry courtyard, keeping a firm hold on her until they arrived at the door lest she slip. In the past she had found this gesture proprietary and controlling when done by other men she had dated, but with Martin, it felt right. "Thank you" she responded, thinking to herself, _ "I feel like we've been together for ages, like an old couple. Of course we haven't and we aren't really a couple per se, but maybe we are becoming one? Do I want us to be a couple?"_ She looked up at him so tall and dignified and wondered. _"Let's see what tonight brings."_

Danny, Chris and Michelle's eleven year old son opened the door and invited them in, reciting by rote, "Everyone's in the lounge; food's in the dining room and kitchen." He took their coats into Chris' study and piled them onto the desk chair with several others. Martin and Louisa made their way into the lounge.

"Mart" Chris shouted over the heads of several other guests. "So glad to see you." Turning to Louisa he greeted her cheerfully, "And you must be Louisa." He held out his hand, "Chris Parsons…Nice to meet you." He beamed at both of them, pleased to see his friend accompanied by a beautiful young woman, "And Happy Christmas to you both! Can I get you a drink? Champagne, wine, port, scotch, mulled cider, beer, or ginger beer? I'm sure we have whatever you'd like."

Before either of them could respond, Chris' wife Michelle was at their side. She greeted Martin with a hug, "Happy Christmas you big oaf. It's been way too long."

"Yes. Happy Christmas," he replied and gently returned her hug. She tugged on his tie, "Great tie, intricate pattern and I love the colours, very seasonal. I like it…a lot."

"Thank you. Louisa gave it to me," he replied and nodded toward Louisa as he placed his hand at her elbow.

Michelle turned to Louisa and gave her a hug in greeting, "Louisa it's so good to meet you in person. I feel like I know you already. And I love Martin's tie. I don't think I've ever seen him wear something quite so ... abstract ... or colorful." She patted Martin on the arm and commended Louisa, "Good for you. Loosen him up a bit." Laughing, she added, "So, welcome to our home. White wine or champagne?"

"Thank you. White wine would be lovely." Louisa was feeling relaxed already.

"Julia, would you go get Louisa a glass of white wine, and a glass of water for your Uncle Mart. Now hurry up. Thank you."

Turning to Louisa, Michelle leaned in and asked in a conspiratorial tone, "Louisa, you have to tell me how you and Martin met."

"Well it's a long story," Louisa began.

"No it's not." Martin interrupted. He was watching the two women, intrigued by how quickly they seemed to be bonding. He had no idea of their long conversation a week ago and how he had been the source of much fond laughter between them.

Looking at Michelle then up at Martin, Louisa giggled and rolled her eyes, playing along, "Okay, you tell them how we met."

Ignoring the giggles the two women were trying to control, Martin explained, "Louisa was in hospital, in the hallway and was looking for the ward to which her friend had been transferred. I helped her find it, noticed her Cornish accent, and we started talking about Cornwall."

"Yes that's about it." Smiling, Louisa agreed and nodded her head. Martin nodded back, "Yes. Not a long story."

Louisa turned to Michelle, "Now let me give you the rest of the story"; and they went off with Louisa filling her in with the details of her trip to London, how Martin walked her to Holly's ward, the drinks date that was cancelled, the dinner date the next night, his first trip to Cornwall and their walk on the coastal path, dinner at the pub, dinner the next night, and his next visit to Cornwall. "We really are just getting to know each other, so I was pleased when he asked me to come here today with him. We've become friends and it will be nice to get to know some of his other friends."

Louisa looked over to where they had left Martin and Chris. She could see the top of Martin's head over the crowd that had surrounded the two of them. He seemed to be the centre of attention as first one and then another of the crowd spoke to him and he responded. He wore his usual expression, serious and sober, unfazed by the crowd that had gathered. She commented to Michelle, "Martin told me there wouldn't be many people here, but there seems to be quite a crowd. And it doesn't look like I'll be seeing much of Martin any time soon."

Michelle just laughed. "You've got that right. We have many more guests here this afternoon than usual. You do know that Martin is the big draw at this afternoon's open house."

"Really?"

"Yep. When Chris let it slip that Martin would be attending our open house, half the hospital staff dropped by his office to let him know they would be joining us today. I had to double my catering order."

"Why is that?" Louisa knew that Martin was a good surgeon and presented at many conferences, but she had no idea of his reputation.

Michelle saw the puzzlement on Louisa's face and suddenly realized that she had no idea of Martin's stature in the medical world, that she really did not know him very well. Her knowledge of him was of a nice man who shared her interest in cooking, who was kind to his aunt, and also happened to be a London surgeon.

"Oh my dear, you really don't know that much about Martin, do you? Let me tell you a few things. He is brilliant, has developed several life saving surgical techniques, and is in constant demand as a speaker in his field. But he is very reserved, and he rarely mingles when he attends a conference. To be able to meet him in person and pick his brain is an opportunity that few would pass up. He loves medicine and will talk about it all day long given the chance. So no, you may not see him much before everyone leaves."

"I had no idea." Louisa stared at the sight of him surrounded by the best and brightest of the Royal Cornwall. She saw Chris disappear into his study and return with a large pad of paper on which Martin started to draw whilst discussing some aspect of medicine ... she had no idea what ... but it almost seemed he was giving a lecture to students rapt with attention. Michelle added, "Martin is a natural teacher. Chris swears he only got through medical school because of Martin's tutoring."

Louisa found this new information overwhelming and confusing. If he was so well regarded, why was he spending time with her, a village primary school teacher…in Cornwall. She was proud of her accomplishments, but they were nothing compared to what he had done. Here she was, just thinking how right they felt together. How could she even think of having a relationship with him let alone think about spending her life with him, which truth be told she had started to consider? He should be with someone equal to his stature.

Michelle continued, "If you were to ask him about his work, he would just tell you he's a surgeon, that it's his job and he does it to the best of his ability. He can be very modest, but also demanding, arrogant and self-righteous when it comes to medicine because he is so knowledgeable. He abhors mediocrity and incompetence. I don't think he understands that not everyone is as brilliant or dedicated as he is. I hear he terrorizes the staff" Michelle chuckled, then added more seriously, "But he is a good soul underneath all the bluster. I know that Chris thinks very highly of him as a friend. We both do."

"I've seen some of that bluster and arrogance. When he first visited the village and saw the year five and six footballers heading the ball, he called the parents and coaches imbeciles and idiots for allowing the children to head the ball; I think he alienated everyone on the pitch. But he did apologise to me later for losing his temper. He hasn't been that way since, but then of course we haven't been in many social situations since then. Mostly it's just the two of us or with a few others."

"Oh dear, we'd better not let him know Danny and his teammates are learning to head the ball in their matches, or he'll be all over me."

"No, you'd never hear the end of it. He was pretty horrible. I had pretty much decided that he was not someone I wanted to spend any more time with than I had to, but I had promised to show him around the village so I hustled him away from there as fast as I could. But we talked about it some more and he explained his concerns and it turns out he was right. He sent me some studies about how it can cause brain damage to children and even adults. I'll send you a copy to read. We are reevaluating the practice in our school."

"Really? Please do send it to me. I'll make sure Chris see it and talks it over with the coaches. You know, I'm so glad Martin's found you and I hope you can remain good friends." Michelle paused and cocked her head, "Or are you more than friends?"

Louisa screwed up her mouth and shook her head no, then whispered, "well maybe…but … no… just friends."

"Hmmm…time will tell I suppose. Promise me the two of you will stay after all the others have gone. I know Chris would like to spend some time with Martin to catch up and also to get to know you. Now let me introduce you to some of my friends from school and a few of the nicer doctors' wives ... and husbands. Can't be sexist."

Michelle kept Louisa busy meeting other guests. Louisa found she had much in common with Michelle's teacher friends; it was always good to meet other educators who struggled with the state school system in Cornwall and compare coping strategies. She found many of the doctors wives very interesting. Almost all were professional women, some of whom had left the workforce while their children were young while others continued to work and care for their families. One or two were childless by choice. She discovered that most of their husbands were dedicated to their patients and worked long hours, and the mothers who had elected to stay home were aware how lucky they were to have that luxury because most women did not have partners with the financial means to allow them to focus on their children. Of course a lot of the talk involved choosing a good preschool, setting up playgroups, helping children explore non-academic interests, the best football coaches, piano teachers, ballet teachers, etc. Even as a teacher, Louisa had not really thought about the many different aspects of childrearing.

Over the course of the afternoon, Louisa would look over Martin's way and occasionally she would see him glancing at her as well. He would shrug and deepen his gaze as if to say. "I'm sorry about all this. I can't seem to get away", and she would smile back at him as if to say, 'It's alright. I understand." She noticed that occasionally one of the female doctors would touch him on his sleeve when she spoke and he would scowl and pull back, uncomfortable with someone invading his personal space. Louisa smiled to herself knowing how he seemed to enjoy her touch. Perhaps he did find something of value in her.

A few of the younger doctors were mingling with Michele's friends, always on the lookout for potential mates. One of these, Jake Brendall started flirting with her after noticing no wedding band on her finger. She played along, laughing at his silly jokes. He seemed interested in her work and she took a real interest in his work, not because she found him all that attractive, but because she thought it might help her understand Martin more. "So, are you one of Michelle's friends?" he asked

"Yes, and you?"

"Surgeon at the Royal Cornwall. I don't usually come to these holiday open houses, but my old Chief is down and I thought I'd better show my face."

"Your old Chief?" Louisa asked

"Yes, the big guy over there, Martin Ellingham. I trained under him in London. Gave us hell for what seemed like an eternity, but it was worth it. I'm sure my success rate is due mostly to his rigorous and thorough training."

"That's very complimentary. He must be an excellent teacher."

"Yes, but incredibly demanding. You had to come to rounds completely prepared or else… well, it wasn't pleasant I can tell you, rake you over the coals if you couldn't answer one of his questions right off, and heaven help you if you gave him the wrong answer."

"Really? He sounds just awful. How could you stand it?" Louisa gave a look of grave concern. This was the kind of behaviour that Michael's friend had told him about and she wanted to know if Martin's reputation was justified.

"Just barely and we groused about him constantly, but he abused us all equally. He could make you feel like an insignificant worm if you weren't prepared. But then he would go on to explain to everyone else what it was that you got wrong and why the patient would die if you had followed through with your initial assessment. Let me tell you some of the things he put us through." He started in with several stories he had to share about the 'Chief'. And Louisa, because she was interested, encouraged him with open-ended questions and appreciative comments, laughing at several of his stories. He was an entertaining raconteur and she was having fun flirting with this young doctor and learning more about Martin at the same time.

As the open house drew to a close and the crowd around Martin dispersed, Jake approached Martin and introduced himself, thinking that the old Chief would have forgotten him after a few years. "Yes, Mr. Brendall, I remember you. I keep tabs on all my former pupils and have heard quite satisfactory reports of your work down here. Keep up the good work."

"Thanks Chief. That's high praise coming from you. I'm sure my success is due to your thorough training. In fact, I was telling one of your other guests how well you trained us all." Turning to Chris, he asked "Do you know that friend of Michelle's? That beauty over there with the long dark hair; Louisa is her name. Do you know if she is seeing anyone?"

Chris just smiled and raised his eyes to Martin. Without changing his expression, Martin looked down at his water glass and then raised his eyes slightly to look straight at Jake and said, "Louisa's with me."

Jake was speechless for a minute. At St. Mary's the talk was of Ellingham being asexual, cold as a fish, as no one had ever seen or heard of him with a woman. He finally managed to say, "Sorry Chief, didn't mean to trod on your turf. You are one lucky bastard though; she is beautiful…and witty."

'Yes, she is. No harm done. "

Jake recalled the stories he had just told Louisa and looking sheepish he spurted out, "Actually I may have stepped you in it, telling tales out of school and all that."

"What do you mean telling tales out of school?" Martin glowered.

"Just the kind of things you would put us through, how hard you worked us, that sort of thing."

"Humph," Martin scowled. Jake quickly thanked Chris for his hospitality and fled for the door running to catch up with one of Michelle's other single friends who happened to be leaving at the same time. Chris joked, "That's what you get for bringing her here where the young bucks are sniffing around Michelle's single teacher friends." Martin just shook his head and went off to find Louisa.


	23. Chapter 23

When Martin found Louisa standing in a group with three other women, he took her aside and whispered in her ear. "Sorry about all that." He gestured over to the side of the room where the crowd had gathered around him and Chris. "I didn't plan to abandon you. There usually aren't this many guests here." As much as he had enjoyed the medical discussion, he was really disappointed to have lost the opportunity to spend the afternoon with her. He had noticed how easily she seemed to interact with the other guests, talking and laughing as if she had known them for years. He would never be able to do that, never understood the reason for such mindless conversation, but he would have liked to have been by her side, to hear what she had to say, to get to know her better.

"That's sweet of you to apologise, but it's okay….this time. I came because I wanted to get to know more about you and today has been very enlightening "

Martin scowled, "Yes, I've heard."

Louisa laughed, "Oh, so Jake told you what he said. It wasn't bad ... actually very complimentary. He said he owes his success to all that you taught him. I recently told someone that you were the most interesting man I had ever met, and today only confirmed that."

"Humph! You must not know many men." Martin knew he was one of the most boring men alive, focused on his work and his clocks, a hobby for meticulous old men.

"I know quite a lot of men, and believe me, you are full of surprises."

Just then Chris walked up and said, "Martin, full of surprises? Tell me more."

"Martin doesn't believe me when I tell him he is one of the most interesting men I've ever met."

"Isn't he though, and he has no idea. Hey, I just came over to see if there's any way you two can stay and join Michelle and me for supper after the rest of this crowd has gone? Give Martin and me a chance for a catch-up, and a chance to get to know you better, Louisa."

Martin turned to Louisa, "What do you think? I know you have a busy day tomorrow."

Louisa looked up at Martin trying to get an idea of what he wanted her to say; his expression was solicitous, but otherwise blank." "Well I am busy tomorrow, but I'd like to stay for a bit if you want to…and if Chris and Michelle are sure it's no bother."

"Great." Chris replied without waiting for Martin's answer. "I'll just get these folks to move on." With that, he picked up a few empty glasses before he headed to the dining room to start putting the food away. As everyone knows, it's a clear signal to leave when the host starts cleaning up.

Louisa looked at Martin and asked "Are you thirsty? Should we go into the dining room and get something to drink?"

Martin thinking how she frequently seemed to anticipate his needs, replied, "Yes, I haven't had anything since just after we arrived.' So they headed to the dining room. After pouring water for each of them, Martin surveyed the desserts remaining on the sideboard where the sweets were displayed, "Humph, look at the offerings on this table, just laden with fat and sugar, sure to clog the arteries of every guest who partakes. I've told Chris in the past and I'll have to tell him again he really needs to avoid this kind of thing. Unless he keeps his weight under better control, he risks all kinds of health problems."

Martin was just warming up; sneering, he had raised his voice and was gesturing strongly towards the items on offer; Louisa realized she needed to cut him off before the other guests heard him. She lightly touched his sleeve and, when he turned to her, she gave him "the look". He looked puzzled at first and then realized what she was doing. "What … why? You can't deny these are unhealthy."

"Certainly you are right about the health effects of these goodies," she advised in a low voice, "but now is not the time to get into it. We are guests at a party and it is impolite to criticize the food on offer. No one is making you eat it. Didn't your ... " She started to say "_didn't_ _your mother teach you better?"_, but then she thought about what Joan had said about his parents and how he spent most of his youth at boarding school and bit her tongue. "_Yes, I am learning more and more about you this evening, the good and the bad."_

At this point, Michelle joined them sighing, "Well everyone's gone. I think it went well, but now it's time for us to relax. I've made a big salad, something healthy, and I roasted some veggies as well, for us to enjoy. I don't want to hear a Martin Ellingham lecture on good nutrition. Of course, we can also help ourselves to some of the pasties and ham as well." Let's clear off this table and then tuck in. All this hosting has made me ravenous."

"Michelle, I can't believe all the work you did for this party. It all looks delicious."

"Oh I didn't do this. I had it catered. This is the busiest time of year for us musicians…school concerts, community holiday concerts, Christmas pageants, and special church services, all of which require endless hours of practice."

"And she's not exaggerating, trust me" Chris added as he walked in and put his arm around his wife. "But now we are ready to kick back and relax."

"Come on kids", Chris called to their three children. "Time to clean up and get some supper for ourselves." Turning to Martin, he added, "I told them that they weren't to eat anything until after the guests left. They've already put on the first load in the dishwasher, and they deserve a reward. But we get to go first. Take what you want now, because once they are let loose, this table will be empty."

The four adults filled up their plates and carried them into the dining room and left the three kids to do their worst.

As they sat down, Louisa said, "So, Michelle and Chris, Martin was telling me how you two met back when they were in medical school."

Chris laughed, "Yes. Mart and I were in a study group together. It was one of those groups that the instructors randomly assign. We couldn't stand each other for the first several years, but eventually we all became good friends and stayed together even after the group work was no longer required. Mart was the one who studied all the time and understood all of the material. It wasn't that the rest of us didn't put in the time, but it was hard to learn all of it and put it into perspective. Mart made it all seem so easy to remember. I like to think that his pounding it all into our heads is the reason he hasn't forgotten any of it, brilliant medic that he is."

"Humph. Could be that studying in the pub wasn't as conducive to retaining the information as you hoped," Martin scowled.

"Perhaps. Be that as it may. Now Michelle…how we met. It was Nigel Browning right? He was dating…what was her name?"

"Cass"

"Yes, Cass and Michelle were in a string quartet in the conservatory. They were putting on a concert and Nigel wanted to go but he didn't want to be alone, so he roped us all into going. I still can't believe he was able to convince you to come with us Mart." Looking at Louisa, he added, "Martin usually stayed behind to study or work on his clock…yes he repaired clocks for fun even back then."

"I saw the program had some technically difficult classical pieces that I enjoy."

Chris continued, "When I saw Michelle up there playing, I was hooked; she was so beautiful ... and talented. And when introductions were made, she seemed interested in me. I couldn't believe my luck. I still can't believe my luck," he added, gazing at his wife in adoration.

"I was the lucky one." Michelle smiled into his eyes as she reached over and took his hand.

"Whatever happened to Nigel?"

Martin chimed in, "Oncologist up at 'Jimmy's' in Leeds."

"Did I hear they're building a state of the art cancer treatment centre there?

"Yes. I believe he's in the thick of it."

"Good job."

Michelle continued, "Nigel and Cass broke up, but I was part of the study group after that night. We were always going out, and I was always trying to fix up the lads, but I wasn't particularly successful. They were all groomsmen in our wedding. I gave up my matchmaking after that."

"Speaking of medical school pals, I hear Edith Montgomery is back."

"Yes." Martin replied in as impersonal a tone as he could muster, not wanting to discuss Edith.

"Have you seen her?" Chris innocently asked, not seeing Michelle's desperate attempt to catch his attention to change the subject.

"Just once. We had dinner shortly after she arrived." Again his voice was as impersonal as he could make it.

"How was she?"

"Fine", Martin really did not want to discuss her, especially around Louisa. "I need another glass of water. Louisa, can I get you something?" He got up and reached for her glass.

"Yes water would be lovely."

Chris, finally realizing he had opened "Pandora's box", turned to Michelle and asked her "I think I'll get something to drink as well. Dear, would you like something?"

"No, I'm good." She got up from the table as well. "Louisa, while they are in the kitchen, there's something I want to show you." She headed into the lounge where the family picture albums were lined up on a bookshelf. Reaching for their wedding album, she opened to the picture of the wedding party. "Look, here we all are back when Chris had a full head of hair."

"Oh Michelle, you were a beautiful bride. Is that Martin, scowling there on the end? Well maybe not scowling, but certainly not smiling."

"He took his responsibilities as a groomsman seriously. Extraordinary man that he is, he rarely smiles, which is a shame because he is so attractive on the rare times he does. He never talks about them, but I think his parents were neglectful. From the little he has said about his childhood, it sounds grim."

"His aunt has given me the same impression. I don't think he has spoken to his parents in years. Although he recently had to contact his dad, something about the title on Joan's farm. I should ask him how that has worked out." She leaned in over the album, "So tell me who all these others are."

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Chris was apologising to Martin for bringing up Edith's name. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking. I'm guessing you don't want Louisa knowing about Edith."

"Louisa knows that I was engaged in medical school, but that is all. She doesn't know anything else. I only saw Edith the one time after she returned to England and she was full of talk about her position heading up a new initiative with the fertility clinic at Imperial Hospital, Queen Charlotte's and Chelsea. I haven't seen her since, but she keeps calling wanting to get back together."

"I take it that you're not interested?"

"No ... but she won't take no for an answer."

"She never did, did she? Always got what she wanted in the end. Why don't you tell her that you're involved with someone else."

"But that's not really true, is it?"

"Isn't it? What about Louisa? You two seem quite suited."

"Do we?" Martin asked hopefully.

"Yes. Early days still?"

Martin nodded.

"Okay, not really my place…or maybe it is as an old friend. Don't leave it too long. I can see how she looks at you. If you want her, let her know how you feel sooner rather than later. You and she are both too old to dither around."

"Hmm. I'll take that under advisement." He checked his watch, "It's getting late. Louisa has a full schedule tomorrow morning. She's in charge of decorating the village hall for their annual dinner dance."

The two of them wandered into the lounge where Louisa and Michelle were still poring over the wedding album.

Louisa looked up and grabbed Martin's hand and pulled him down onto the couch next to her. "Look here Martin, pictures of Michelle and Chris' wedding. And look, here you are. I can't believe how young all of you look. How long ago was it?"

"A good fifteen years ago, I would guess." Martin looked up at Chris.

"Seventeen actually," Chris chimed in, proud that he actually knew the number of years he had been married.

"That long?" Martin touched Louisa on her sleeve, then stood up. "Louisa, as delightful as this trip down memory lane has been, I believe we need to get going."

"Oh I hate to go. This has been so much fun, but Martin is right. We probably won't get back before 9 or 9:30 and I have to be up early." He offered her his hand, and she stood up reluctantly.

"Danny," Chris shouted in the direction of the kitchen. "Go get the coats for your Uncle Mart and Louisa."

They made their way to the door while Danny slouched from the kitchen to Chris' den to retrieve the coats. "We need to do this again. I've missed seeing you. When will you be back in Cornwall, Martin?" Michelle was rubbing his back as they walked, and Louisa noticed a small smile on Martin's face.

"It all depends on whether the title to my aunt's farm clears up and how soon we can start on the renovations. I'll try to let you know."

They donned their coats and said their good-byes, and headed out the door. Once again, Martin took Louisa's arm to steady her on the uneven walkway.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Chris and Michelle watched their two friends walk to Martin's car, and Michelle turned to Chris and told him, "Martin is in love with Louisa"

Chris had been waving good-bye, but jerked his head in Michelle's direction at her comment, "Are you sure? How can you tell?"

"He was watching her all afternoon and evening; even when he was surrounded by the entire staff of the Royal Cornwall, he was constantly searching for her. And his eyes, soft and wide, didn't you notice how he looked at her. He adores her. While we were having supper, he may have been talking with you, but he was gazing at Louisa with a tender look I don't think I've ever seen him use before."

"I could tell that Louisa likes him, but do you think she feels the same way?"

"I don't know. I asked her if they were more than friends and she seemed uncertain. At first she said maybe, but then she said no. I hope he's not going to be hurt"

"I could ask around; see what I can find out about her, whether she is seeing anyone, that sort of thing."

"Might be a good idea", Michelle concurred. "Not one of your brighter ideas bringing up Edith."

"No."

"Louisa could tell there was something amiss there. Poor Martin, he could be in for a difficult drive back."

Once they were safely on the road back to Portwenn, Martin turned to Louisa to ask about the next day. "So, you have a lot to do tomorrow?"

"Oh yes," she laughed. "We have great plans for turning the village hall into a winter wonderland. We'll meet at 8 tomorrow morning to get started. I had a sign-up sheet of supplies we needed. If everyone remembers to bring what they promised, we should be done by one or half past by the latest. Of course, things rarely go as smoothly as planned, but it all works out in the end. No matter what, we will be finished by three. I plan to get cleaned up and to take a short nap before the festivities begin at six. Are you coming?"

"Yes. Aunty Joan is dragging both of us along, my Aunt Ruth and me. Said we have no choice. I think Ruth and I would be much happier staying in over a good game of chess. But Aunty Joan wouldn't hear of it."

"Well I am glad to hear you are coming. Stefan and Alicia will be there as will Carrie, so you will know someone other than your aunts and me."

"What about the doctor?"

"Michael? He went home for the holidays."

"Good."

Louisa looked over at him critically, "You don't like Michael much, do you?"

"No"

"May I ask why not?"

"He's an arse."

"Okay, I will admit he acted like one last month at my party. But he's not usually like that. I think you'd like him if you got to know him better. And he is a very good doctor."

"Hmmm" Martin knew perfectly well that he would not like him any better as long as Louisa was between them. He didn't think the doctor would ever like him either. This was a new sensation, jealousy, not an emotion he was familiar with, but it was genuine and he had no desire to suppress it.

"I'm looking forward to meeting your Aunt Ruth. She sounds very interesting."

"Possibly. She'll have you analyzed after five minutes. Not much gets by her."

"Oh." Louisa wasn't sure what she thought about that. "Okay, as long as she doesn't share her observations."

"She might."

"Oh."

"Do you mind if I turn on the radio?"

"No, of course not."

Martin selected a light classical station and the gentle music filled the air.

"Martin,"

He loved the way she said his name, "Yes?"

"Who is Edith Montgomery?"

"_Oh God, why did Parsons have to bring up her name? Stay calm"_ , he told himself and took a few deep breaths. "Just someone from medical school."

"I sensed that there was more to it than that."

"No, not really."

"Was she the woman you were engaged to?"

How did she divine that, he wondered to himself, women's intuition? "Yes."

"Are you glad she is back?"

"No."

"_Yes... no. How can I get him to tell me more?_" She pondered his answers for a moment or two. "Why not? You did love her once, didn't you?"

"I thought I did."

"But you don't now?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I just don't." Martin was getting agitated. "Louisa, I don't want to talk about her." He needed to change the subject. He raised the volume on the radio.

Louisa reached over and turned the volume back down. "She's part of your past, just like Chris and Michelle. I just thought if I knew more about her, it would help me know you better."

He pounded his fist on the steering wheel and, in a voice that grew louder with each word, shouted at her, "Louisa, I said I don't want to talk about her. I don't even want to think about her. Just... leave it."

His irritation shocked her, and she leaned back into her seat. She took in his words and then turned back toward him, and looking straight at him, she said in a very controlled level tone, "Don't shout at me. I only asked because we've become friends and I care about you and wanted to know more. But I will leave it." _For now_, she thought.

"Thank you" he replied also in a quiet controlled tone. For the next few minutes, the only sound in the car was the music from the radio and the hum generated by the vibrations of the tires against the road. They had just experienced their first unpleasant exchange of words, and they each were pondering how to move past it. Martin had been hoping to find an excuse to spend every remaining evening in Portwenn with her, and worried that his angry words might put her off. Louisa also had been hoping to see more of him this trip after the village dinner dance the next evening and wondered if she had pushed him too far asking about Edith.

A few minutes later, he asked, "What are you doing Sunday?"

"After this last week? I think I will just sit around the house, read a book or watch some telly." She chuckled.

"Can I take you out to dinner?"

'Is that a peace offering?"

"What?"

"You know, a peace offering, to apologise for shouting at me."

"No, I just thought you might enjoy a quiet evening out. I would."

"Oh. Yes, I guess that would be nice, but let's keep it casual. Of course, you don't do casual, do you?"

"I'm sure I can find a nice place where slacks would be appropriate. Pick you up at six or half five?"

"Yes."

They continued on their way, both lost in silence. Martin reached over for her hand and squeezed it. Louisa squeezed back, realising that the gesture was his peace offering.

They drove down into Portwenn and Martin parked the car. "Louisa, we're back." She had dozed off just before they arrived at the car park. He got out of the car, walked to her door and helped her out. He had been thinking about Chris' advice not to wait too long to tell Louisa how he felt about her. He knew he was a difficult man, unlovable really, but she seemed to enjoy his company. She did just say that she cared for him, but how could he discover if she felt more than just friendship? He didn't want to risk offending her and he wasn't ready for her rejection. He'd rather enjoy what time she was willing to give him than risk losing it by being too forward. She accepted his holding her hand in the car, even squeezing his when he squeezed hers. So he reached over for her hand and held it whilst they walked up to her cottage. She smiled up at him and he stood even taller.

They reached her cottage and she let go of his hand to fish around in her bag for her keys. "Do you want to come in for a few minutes?" She looked up at him and smiled hopefully.

"No, it's late and you have to get up early. I'd better leave." He stood stiffly, his hands twitching nervously at his sides. He looked down at her; she was so beautiful and he so desperately wanted to kiss her. "Well, good night...eh...um." He leaned over and gently kissed her cheek, and then turned to walk away.

"Wait", she cried and pulled him inside the door and pushed it closed.

"What? What is it?" Martin was confused. He didn't think a chaste kiss on the cheek was too forward. But then she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him full on the lips. He was so surprised that he didn't respond at first. She pulled away to look at him to see if she had misinterpreted his tentative signals. He stood there staring at her, and she began to think she had made a mistake, but then he raised his hands and brushed her hair off her shoulders with his fingers.

Though his expression never changed, he was elated; all his worries about rejection were for naught. With her kiss, Louisa told him what he needed to know, that she wanted more than friendship from him as well. He didn't want to forget this moment and he looked at her intently, memorizing her face, her eyes, her cheeks, and the curve of her mouth. Finally he caressed her cheek with the backs of his fingers and placed the palm of his hand against the side of her head, leaning in to teasingly graze his lips across hers. Then he kissed her delicately, relishing the sensation of her soft lips against his. Slightly parting his lips he pulled against hers and gradually, ever so gradually deepened the kiss, as she followed his lead. When he eventually pulled away, he saw that her eyes were still closed, but she had a look of bliss on her face that he didn't think he would ever forget.

All the phrases that writers used to describe a woman's reaction to her lover's kiss ... 'he left her breathless', 'his kiss left her weak in the knees' ... none of them did justice to what she felt after Martin kissed her. Never had she experienced a kiss as sensuous, yet so full of love, as that she had just shared with Martin. That a man so reserved as he could kiss her like that was beyond understanding. There really were depths to him that she might never discover. She didn't want him to leave. She embraced him, placing her head against his chest, whispering, "Martin ... oh, Martin."

"Umm..." Elated, he kept his arms wrapped around her tightly, knowing that he must leave her shortly.

Finally he pulled back and gazed into her eyes, murmuring, "I really should go."

She buried her head back into his chest. 'Yes, I guess you should, but maybe ... just ...?" She looked up and he tenderly kissed her one last time and then whispered, "Good night." And he walked out the door into the cold winter night and realised that he wanted to pursue her for herself, not for any resemblance that she might have to his dream. She was the woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life if she would have him. And he knew there was a chance it could happen. _"Just don't muck it up Ellingham", _he muttered to himself as he strode back to his car.


	25. Chapter 25

Louisa and her crew had done a spectacular job converting the plain utilitarian village hall into a winter wonderland. This was especially amazing because they had virtually no budget. There were evergreen trees festooned with fairy lights lining the wall. The tables were covered in frosty blue tablecloths with white snowflake placemats. The centrepieces were glass vases scavenged from village basements filled with sparkly glass ornaments. Small votive candles softly lit the tables. Before the school holiday break began, the school children had painted rolls and rolls of paper, which when hung from the ceiling of the hall, gave the appearance of the winter sky over Portwenn at night complete with a full moon and winter star constellations. From this "night sky", hundreds of paper snowflakes were hung. It may not have been elegant, but it was truly festive and drew "oohs" and "aahs" as the party goers entered the hall.

Aunty Joan had insisted that they arrive right at six in order to nab the perfect table. She had arranged to share a table with her friends Bunny Severen and Nancy Croaker along with Bunny's son and daughter. "Of course" she added to Martin, "You may want to sit with Louisa and some of her friends."

"Mmm. We hadn't discussed it," Martin replied, while thinking, "_I do hope there is room at a table with Louisa. I doubt that Bunny or her progeny will be founts of stimulating conversation_."

Dinner was to be a pot-luck affair with every family expected to bring a main dish and a salad, vegetable or dessert for six. Joan had prepared one of her famous chicken casseroles and an apple cranberry pie. Martin, concerned that he might not find anything of nutritional value on offer, had roasted up a huge pan of winter vegetables. Louisa saw them enter and headed their way as they placed their dishes on the buffet table. "Joan, Martin, good to see you here. Happy Christmas. " She gave both of them her usual brilliant smile holding her gaze with Martin perhaps a little longer than with Joan. Martin blushed slightly remembering their passionate kiss from the night before and returned her smile with a restrained one of his own, "Yes. Happy Christmas."

Joan took in all this pondering to herself, "_Hmm I wonder just how friendly they have become. Tonight could be interesting."_"Yes, Happy Christmas," she burbled as she gave Louisa a big hug. "Have you met my sister, Ruth?"

"No, but Martin's told me all about her." Turning to Ruth, Louisa extended her hand and greeted her, "Ruth, it's so nice to meet you. Martin said you drove down together. I hope you have enjoyed your visit with us so far. Will you be staying long?"

Ruth had been observing Martin with Louisa, noticing his face and how it changed when he gazed at her and his body language as he leaned towards her as they were greeting each other; and based on her conversation with Martin in the car, she had decided that their relationship had progressed much further than either Joan or Martin had indicated. "Yes, nice to meet you also. It's been very pleasant catching up with Joan... and Martin, with what little time you've left him to us. I plan to leave in the morning. I must be back at work on Monday."

"Oh...sorry to hear you are leaving so soon. This evening will be noisy and hectic, but maybe we can find a little time to chat. Hmm?" Louisa really did want to get to know Ruth, maybe put a few more pieces of the Martin Ellingham puzzle together.

'Yes, I'd like that." Ruth had every intention of tracking Louisa down before the night was over.

Joan reached out to Louisa and cocking her thumb towards Martin, said, "Ruth may be complaining about your keeping this one busy, but I for one, have to thank you for keeping him occupied and out of my hair yesterday. I love having him around, but he's not much of a farmer."

"Oh, it's been my pleasure. We had a very nice time at his friends' boxing day open house."

"Must have been a long party. Martin didn't get back home until after we were in bed."

Martin had already explained to his aunts that they had stayed for supper and had a long catch up, but Joan wanted to get Louisa's version.

"Well, I guess it was a bit late. Chris and Michelle asked us to stay after the other guests had left to take supper with them. I quite enjoyed it, and it was a very interesting evening hearing all about their exploits in medical school. There was a huge crowd for most of the afternoon. Michelle told me that once Chris let it slip that Martin was coming, practically everyone on staff wanted an invite in order to meet him. Martin here," she nodded her head toward him proudly, "is evidently a rock star in the British medical community."

"Hardly", Martin blustered, reddening once again.

Joan looked up at him and with evident pride said, "He always was a brilliant lad."

"Aunty Joan, really! Let's go find our table."

"Actually, Martin, I saved a place for you at our table. Joan, would you mind if I commandeered Martin for the first part of the evening?"

"Certainly. You young people enjoy yourselves. Ruth and I will party with the senior citizens." Joan was perfectly happy to have Martin socializing with Louisa and her friends. In her opinion, he had been friendless for far too long.

Louisa took Martin's hand and led him over to her table. Stefan saw them coming and got up, "Martin, good to see you mate. Here have a seat. We were just about to go get some drinks now that they've set up the bar. Can I get you something?"

"Stefan", Martin nodded. "Just some water will do. Thanks."

Alicia jumped up to greeted Martin. He realized that once again she was planning to kiss him, and instead of recoiling, he leaned down to receive the kiss she planted on his cheek. "So nice to see you again Martin," she said as she grinned up at him pleased with herself at successfully greeting him properly. "Yes, Alicia," he replied with a whisper of a smile. Martin surprised himself at how comfortable he felt around Stefan and Alicia. Perhaps it was because they were well educated, with sophisticated tastes, people he could relate to. It didn't hurt that they knew him only as Louisa's friend, not as the unlikeable gruff and rude man he knew that he really was.

Louisa introduced Martin to the others at the table, "Martin, I'd like you to meet some other friends of mine, Caroline and Roger McCune. Roger is the science teacher at the school and Caroline teaches history at Wadebridge School. And of course you know Carrie."

Stefan came back with the drinks. Martin was anxious to thank him for his help in settling the title to Joan's farm. "Well, it's not finalized just yet, and it could still fall through, but I expect it to be complete within a few weeks." Stefan was confident, but cautious lawyer that he was, he wanted to make sure his client knew of possible roadblocks.

Martin nodded his understanding and replied, "I'm staying a few extra days to finalise the changes we want to make with the architect, get him started on the plans. Hopefully the title will be clear by early February so we can get started on the renovations."

"Weather permitting," chimed in Roger who had been listening to the conversation. "Winter in Cornwall isn't necessarily conducive to construction, you know."

"Hmm, yes", replied Martin, thinking this renovation might not be as easy as he had hoped.

At this point the master of ceremonies greeted the villagers and their guests, thanking everyone for all their hard work organizing the festivities and providing them with such a bountiful table, etc, etc. After an unnecessarily long speech about the completion of another successful year in the village, he finally asked the vicar to start them with a prayer of thanksgiving after which he invited the guests to approach the buffet table in an orderly fashion. And for such a large crowd, supper was served in a relatively efficient manner with only a few unruly children fussing with impatience whilst waiting in the queue. After the first such outburst, Martin scowled and said in what he thought was a confidential tone to Louisa, "Don't these children have any manners? Where are their parents?"

Louisa immediately placed her palm on his chest and gave him "the look", which quieted him down, but not before he leaned down and whispered in her ear, "You'll have to explain it to me later."

She just nodded with a grimace and a smile to the others nearby, and handed him a plate, as they had just about reached the front of the queue. Martin resumed his usual neutral expression and stood tall as he surveyed the victuals on offer. Joan and Ruth were not within earshot, but had watched this exchange with great interest. "Wonder what that was all about?" Joan said to her sister. "Whatever it was, I am certain that Louisa and Martin have a much closer relationship than either of us thought. It looked as if Martin was gearing up for a rant, and Louisa quieted him with just a glance. Amazing." Ruth nodded, "I agree. We'll have to keep an eye on them tonight."

All agreed that the cooks had outdone themselves this year. While Martin was horrified at some of the fried meats and heavy pasties and dishes laden with heavy cream and butter, even he was able to find much that was healthy and wholesome. He did observe however that those who could least afford to partake of the rich offerings were the ones most enjoying the extra butter and creamy gravies. And he couldn't help sharing this observation with the others at his table. Some of them had given into these temptations this evening, including Louisa, who then added, "I'm sure Martin is not referring to any of us." After she gave him a quick kick under the table, he added "No, no. Everyone here appears to have a healthy BMI."

Seeing the quizzical looks on several faces, Roger added, "BMI, body mass index. It uses a person's height and weight to provide an indication of body fat."

Roger continued, "We do a unit in our science classes on health and discuss the importance of healthy eating and exercise, where each student calculates his or her own BMI. Quite a few of the children have a BMI over 25, which indicates that they are overweight and at a higher risk of heart disease among other things. We discuss ways to get more exercise and how to choose healthy food. Of course there are times when we want to indulge, such as tonight. And we tell the kids that that's okay as long as they eat healthy most of the time."

Alicia chimed in, "But it's pretty obvious that not everyone eats a healthy diet all of the time, isn't it."

"True, true." Louisa agreed, but fearing that Martin might be encouraged to commence a lecture on the British people and their dietary habits, she smoothly changed the subject. "Speaking of getting more exercise, I plan to do a lot of dancing this evening. Anyone else?"

Laughing, Alicia and Carrie both agreed that the dancing would be the highlight of the evening. Rolling his eyes at the women, Martin just groaned.

Having successfully changed the subject to more festive topics, everyone continued to enjoy the evening. When the meal was over, Joan came over to greet everyone at their table and to ask permission to take Martin away for a short while. She wanted to introduce him to some of her friends and do some bragging about how successful he was. He remembered his manners and nodded to each one and said, "Nice to meet you." But it was finally too much for him, and he pulled Joan aside and spoke to her requesting that she cease introducing him as her nephew, the successful London vascular surgeon. 'Just introduce me as your nephew Martin. You can add, 'down from London' if you must, but please no discussion of my work. It's embarrassing."

'Very well, Martin. But you're taking half the fun out of it. All my friends have grandchildren to brag about and you're all I have...and I am terribly proud of you."

'Hmmm" Martin screwed up his mouth and nodded his head. "I see. I'm glad. But it's just my job, nothing special."

Joan just stared at him as looks of love, confusion and admiration crossed her face. She cupped his cheek in her hand and smiling said to him, "You always were a special little boy."

Several of Joan's oldest friends remembered Marty from his visits to the farm as a child. They were full of stories about his adventures with his Uncle Phil, how he learned to feed the chickens and gather the eggs, how he pulled all the beans before they had matured when he first learned how to harvest the vegetables, and how he helped tend the sheep. They laughed remembering him stomping around the muddy farmyard in his wellies that were a size too big.

He actually remembered one of her old neighbours, a Mrs. Pratt, because she would come over for tea; she and Joan would sit for an hour almost every day talking. She seemed delighted to see him, "I remember you so well. You were such a sweet little boy, quiet and shy, but always so polite and well behaved. I remember how you were always exploring the fields and digging around the yard, bringing home bugs and worms, caterpillars and butterflies. Joan, do you remember the time he brought home a frog? He couldn't wait to tell us about the time he dissected a frog and how the heart and all the other organs were organized inside the frog." Turning to Martin, she added, "You wanted to dissect that frog for us right there on the kitchen table, but Joan convinced you that living frogs were needed on the farm to catch flies and other bugs that could bother the sheep and chickens. You couldn't have been more than seven or eight. How many little boys that age even know the word 'dissect' let alone what the inside of a frog looks like?"

Martin smiled at the memory, "My grandfather gave me a frog to dissect on my fifth birthday. I do remember exploring the fields around the farm when I wasn't helping Joan or Phil."

"And you were a wonderful help to us both. We loved having you visit...the child we always wished we had."

Neither Joan nor any of her friends said anything about his bed wetting or how he sucked his thumb or cried when he got hurt, or any of his other shortcomings for which his parents constantly berated him. Their reminiscing brought back many wonderful memories, memories that had been buried years ago by the shame he had felt at being such a disappointment to his parents.

Whilst he was socializing with Joan and her friends, the dancing part of the evening was in full swing. Martin had noticed that Louisa had danced with several of the men there, but was taking a break and chatting and laughing with friends. He had wanted to ask her to dance but none of the songs seemed appropriate, then he heard the first bars of a song he instantly recognised as the song to which they had danced at their wedding in his dream. It only took a moment and he was at her side, leaning down and asking her if she would like to dance.

She smiled up at him...oh how he loved that smile...and told him that she would love to dance. He led her to the floor, taking her in his arms in that formal style he was taught at school. As they started to dance, she remarked that he seemed to be enjoying himself. "Yes, Aunty Joan and her friends were reminding me of all the good times I had when I visited her as a child."

She remarked that she loved this song, and he agreed, telling her that it reminded him of her. "Why is that" she asked. "Um...it just does," he replied as he slid his hand a few inches further across her back to hold her a little closer. He couldn't tell her the real reason the song reminded him of her and he couldn't tell her that the words had any special meaning because he couldn't remember what they were, something about sailing.

As he listened to the lyrics, he realised that they expressed some of his feelings for her, especially the lines "_can you hear me, can you hear me/through the dark night, far away,/I am dying, forever crying,/to be with you, who can say". _ Now that he had found her, even though he was far away in London most of the time, he was trying so hard to be with her, and he pulled her even tighter as he heard those lyrics. She responded by laying her head against his chest and sighing. They continued to dance until the very last strains of music died and then pulled away. Looking down, too full of emotion to catch her eyes, he whispered, "Thank you". She whispered back, "Yes."

She took his hand and led him away from the dance floor over to another group of her friends. Even as she introduced him to this group, which included several more teachers from her school, she never let go of his hand which she held behind her back. Martin found this intimacy profoundly confusing and was even more tongue-tied than he usually was in the midst of new acquaintances. He felt a semblance of relief when Ruth came over to talk with Louisa. She noticed how their hands were interlocked and glancing up at Martin, inquired, "Mind if I borrow Louisa for a few minutes? I haven't had a chance to speak with her all evening."

"Uh...no..", quickly pulling his hand from hers, Martin bent down to get her attention, "Louisa."

She had been busy chatting with one of her friends, gossiping really, about another one of their fellow teachers whose companion for the evening was a rather flamboyant Spaniard. She was startled when she felt Martin pull away from her until she noticed Ruth standing next to him, "Oh hi, Ruth. How has your evening been so far?"

In her usual dry tone, Ruth replied, "Not as good as yours I suspect...Do you have a few minutes for a quick chat?"

Louisa blushed slightly at the implication, but quickly responded, "Yes, certainly. I was hoping we could get to know each other better while you were here tonight. Why don't we get a drink and find a quiet table." She glanced around the crowded noisy room, "perhaps quiet is hoping for too much, but someplace a little less raucous."

As they settled at a corner table, Ruth observed, "I see that you and Martin have become quite close this fall."

Unaccustomed to such directness, Louisa wasn't quite sure how to respond, "I guess we have become good friends, yes."

"More than good friends, from what I have seen this evening."

Well Martin had warned her that Ruth might be quick to see through to the heart of the matter, and she replied, "Not really ... well maybe a little. I'm not really sure we could ever be more than friends given that he is in London and I am here." "_Now what made me say that?" _Louisa wondered to herself.

"Hmm. Yes, long distance relationships can be difficult. Is that something you have thought about...with Martin I mean?"

"I don't know...a little, maybe. Has Martin said anything to you?"

"You know Martin. Getting anything personal from him is like getting blood from a turnip so to speak. He told me he enjoys your company, and that you both like to cook; oh... and that you are quite beautiful. He was right."

"Oh", Louisa looked down and started to blush.

Ruth raised her eyebrows and with a wry smile said, "Took all of my skill as an accomplished psychiatrist to pull that out of him."

Louisa laughed. She was starting to like this odd aunt of Martin's. "Yes, he isn't the most loquacious of men, is he?"

The two women continued talking. Again putting all her skills as an accomplished psychiatrist to use, Ruth asked Louisa about her role at the school, her friends and her parents, what it was like growing up in the village. Over the course of a few minutes conversation, she was able to assess the strength of Louisa's attachment to the village and whether she would be willing to leave it for a husband and family. Ruth was not convinced that Martin had the necessary qualities to lure such a lively, vital woman from her village.

For her part, Louisa asked Ruth about Martin as a young boy, what his family was like, how often they got together for birthdays and such. She was dismayed to discover that the family did not celebrate special days together, although they did talk at Christmas. Like Joan, Ruth had nothing good to say about Martin's parents. According to her they were cold and self-serving and never showed even the slightest interest in their son. She was of the opinion that Martin was not the aggressive hard charging man's man that her brother valued, and so he had washed his hands of him, ignoring Martin's many other accomplishments. She hadn't seen her brother or Martin's mother in years and she was perfectly happy to keep it that way.

Louisa found all this very unsettling; would a man with such a background be able to enjoy a loving family? She decided to take advantage of Ruth's professional knowledge. Would he be able to have a normal relationship, so she wondered out loud to Ruth, "What you've told me is very disturbing. Martin was neglected by his parents all his life? Is that why he has made his work the focus of his life? He seems comfortable around you and Joan, and he was relaxed around his friend Chris and his wife, but I know he'd rather have stayed home than come tonight. He has been very friendly with me, but I gather that is not his normal behaviour."

'Yes," Ruth interrupted her musings. "We have been surprised as well at his friendship with you. I'm sure there must have been other women in his life, but he has not shared them with either Joan or me...except of course for that woman in medical school. But I think that was as much an intellectual attraction as anything else." Suddenly she leaned in closer and asked, "Have you two been intimate?"

Shocked at what she perceived as a totally outrageous personal question, Louisa was at a loss for a reply and just looked at her wide-eyed. "Uh...um... that's...uh...really none of your business."

"You are quite correct. Please excuse me; I drifted into professional mode. It was completely inappropriate. But before we go, I do want to add that I see many men in my work at Broadmoor who have been neglected in the same way as Martin, and he could have ended up like them. But he hasn't. He is gruff, rude, and uncommunicative as a result of his upbringing, but he can also be very caring. His work requires that he care for his patients, and it is obvious to me that he cares for you."

"Hmm," Louisa had much to ponder and looking around for friends, left Ruth after thanking her for sharing her thoughts. She made her way to the drinks table to pick up another glass of wine and then wandered over to sit with Alicia. Soon after, Stefan and Martin joined them. Each bore an expression that was far too serious for the festive occasion, and Alicia teased them, "Where have you two been? Not talking business I hope."

Martin quickly replied, "No, we just went out for some fresh air."

"Yes, yes," Stefan was almost too quick to agree, but then added, "although it's starting to rain; might turn to sleet later. We should think about leaving soon."

"Yes, I have to drive my aunts back to the farm and the roads might start to ice up."

In any event, the evening was winding down and the DJ soon announced the last dance. Martin tilted his head with a look in his eyes that let Louisa know he wanted to take advantage of this last dance. She smiled back at him with a nod. He reached for her hand, and they walked to the dance floor. As he put his hand around her waist, he observed, "You seem suddenly quiet. I saw you talking with Ruth. Did she say something to upset you?"

"Oh let's not talk about that."

"Did she? ... Say something upsetting?"

"Not really. Are you still planning to take me to dinner tomorrow?"

"Most definitely. Shall I pick you up around half five?

"Yes, or maybe six". She smiled up at him, and he pulled her closer for the last few refrains of the song.

"Good."


	26. Chapter 26

Most of Joan's friends had already started to leave before the last dance was played, so she and Ruth were sitting together watching Martin and Louisa and speculating as to the nature of their friendship. They had had a lively conversation about the two of them on Boxing Day after Marty had left for the party at Chris', with Joan filling in everything that had passed since Martin had started to come down to visit and Ruth sharing her discoveries and speculations about Martin's feelings for Louisa. They had been avidly watching them this evening hoping to solve the mystery of their relationship.

"Martin seems completely besotted. Were you able to suss out anything from your conversation with Louisa?" Joan asked Ruth.

"Well she did admit that '_maybe'_ they have become a little more than good friends, but that she doesn't think they can be more than that with him in London and her in Cornwall, and she did concede that she has thought about it...a little."

"_Maybe_ a little more than good friends? Look at them. Good friends don't dance that close together," Joan observed to her sister. "Did you see them earlier when she had her head against his chest while they were dancing. There' a lot more than just friendship going on there."

"Yes, you are right ... as always," Ruth replied.

Joan ignored the sarcasm lurking just beneath her sister's tone. "I told you that she said she prefers village life, but would be willing to relocate for the right man."

"I'm just not sure Martin is the right man. She seems like the kind of person who is always going to be involved in her community wherever that may be, and Martin is ...well you know Martin, private and solitary, and that's putting it mildly." Ruth really did not see how they could maintain a relationship over the long term given the stark differences in their personalities.

Joan ever the optimist was still hoping they would find a way to get together, and observed, "Seems like a case of opposites attracting."

"Which rarely ends well," Ruth was ever the pragmatist and was not going to humour her sister's hopes. She loved Martin and found herself liking Louisa as well, but she was not optimistic.

The lights came on and Martin started to lead Louisa back to her table when he noticed several villagers headed their way. He stopped abruptly and glaring at something over her head, told her with just a hint of panic in his voice, "I need to find my aunts and get them back to the farm before the weather turns." Squeezing her hand, he bid her "Good night," and quickly walked away. Louisa turned to see what it was that seemed to startle him, but saw nothing but a few villagers gathering up their things; she stood there completely flummoxed wondering what on earth had happened. Was this just typical of Martin's normal behaviour, rude and brusque or had she done something to offend him? She watched as he gathered up Joan and Ruth and their empty dishes and hustled them out the door.

"Joan, Ruth, we need to get a move on. The weather is getting nasty and we want to get back safely." He picked up Joan's dishes and handed them to her and picked up the pan in which he had brought the vegetables. Looking around their table, he asked "Where are your coats?"

"In the coat room by the door," Joan replied. "But Marty there are a lot of people here who would like to talk with you."

"No there aren't. Come on." He grabbed their coats, helped to put them on, and had them out the door before most any of the other revellers had noticed they were gone. Once in the car, Joan turned to him to ask, "Want to tell us what that was all about? The weather isn't all that bad. Did you and Louisa have a tiff?"

"What? No. The party was over. It was time to go."

Joan was pretty sure she knew what was going on, "You do know that there are several people who saw what you did for Jack Earley and wanted to thank you."

"No need. I just did what I was trained to do, nothing special."

"Yes, but thanks to you he didn't die."

'What happened?" Ruth was confused. Martin obviously stepped in when someone was hurt, but she had not noticed.

"Jack wasn't feeling too well, had suddenly become weak and couldn't walk. His wife knew Marty was a doctor and asked him to take a look at him. Martin recognised immediately that he was having a stroke, called an ambulance and looked after him until they arrived. Martin and Stefan moved Jack to a side room where Martin could examine him in private so not many villagers were aware that anything was happening. Once the ambulance arrived, he was able to tell them that Jack likely had a clot blocking an artery in his brain and he had made certain that they would consult with the specialists at Truro on the way to hospital to see if they should use some kind of special medicine to break up the clot. You and Louisa were huddled in a corner deep in conversation."

"How could you be certain he was having an ischemic stroke? Were you able to examine him properly?" Ruth was sceptical, and quizzed Martin on his diagnosis.

"As you know, the majority of strokes are ischemic. The man is obese, and according to his wife he had all of the risk factors, diabetes, high cholesterol, never exercises, and he's a smoker. His face was drooping on the same side as his leg weakness. The stroke symptoms came on suddenly and I was able to hear a bruit in his carotid, which was indicative of a potential clot. Plus he was not experiencing any severe pain in his head. It could still be hemorrhagic, but very unlikely. An injection of tPA is most effective when administered within four hours of the onset of the stroke. We still don't have effective portable imaging equipment available, but the ambulance personnel will evaluate him as best they can, and consult with the specialist whilst they are on way to hospital to decide whether to administer it. Given the distance from Portwenn to Truro..."

"Ah yes, I see. "Ruth understood. You're certain that they stock it in the ambulance? Hopefully he will not experience too much damage."

"Yes, it is included in the supplies on board the ambulance for AMIs*. I left my cell number with the ambulance attendants in case the specialists at the hospital have any questions, but really they should be able to handle it without me."

"And you rushed us out of the hall because you didn't want people to make a fuss over you. I understand completely." Ruth had never been one for the limelight either.

"Mmm..." Martin was glad he didn't have to explain.

Ruth might be able to understand Martin's modesty and certainly it was admirable, but Joan knew how villages work, so she spoke up. "Well Marty, don't be surprised over the next few days when you are stopped by villagers wanting to thank you. So be polite and just say that you were glad you could help. That's all you need to say to keep them satisfied."

"Oh God." Martin was dreading that possibility.

"Well, you were glad to help weren't you?"

"Yes, but I was just doing what I've been trained to do, nothing more."

Joan knew that many people didn't know how to accept praise, and that Martin was chief among them. He preferred to ignore the comments or explain that "it was nothing", which would only encourage the grateful villagers to continue their unwelcome praise. "That may be, but they need to thank you. If you just say, 'I was glad to help', they will go away, happy that you accept their thanks."

Ruth chimed in, "Joan's correct. You must acknowledge their wish to thank you."

"Humph." Martin was sceptical.

"Just do it." Joan commanded.

"Yes ... yes, fine." He wasn't going to win this argument; best to just agree and get on with it, and avoid the village if possible.

The next morning, the three of them enjoyed a leisurely breakfast with fresh laid eggs courtesy of Joan's hens. Ruth's train was scheduled to leave Bodmin station shortly after noon and Martin had volunteered to drive her. Martin was well aware that both his aunts were curious about his relationship with Louisa as they had been dropping subtle questions over the course of the morning. He was guarded in his answers and knew he would have to be careful with Ruth during the drive to the station lest she trick him into revealing more than he wanted.

To be truthful, he wasn't sure he _could_ tell them where the two of them stood. He knew that he enjoyed Louisa's company and wanted to spend more time with her. She seemed to enjoy his company; she must because she always accepted his invitations to spend time together; she would find an excuse to avoid him otherwise, wouldn't she? He knew the physical chemistry between them was incredibly strong. He would have to exercise all his self control to ensure that things didn't progress too fast. Even so, he could barely contain the urgency of his desire to see her tonight, to gaze at her beautiful face across the table at dinner, to listen to her talk, and especially to hold her in his arms again and feel her soft lips against his. He really couldn't tell Ruth or Joan any of these things.

Ruth knew he was on his guard and that an indirect approach was unlikely to be successful. So she took a more direct line of questioning. "Martin, are you going to tell me what your intentions are regarding Louisa?"

"No. It's none of your business."

"Maybe. But I am concerned. I don't want you to be hurt."

"Why do you say that?" Being hurt had never occurred to him. Let down, disappointed maybe, but hurt?

"I have observed that you and she seem to be ... oh ... infatuated with each other, shall we say. But where can it go? I had a very nice chat with Louisa and she is a lovely woman, but really, what on earth could you possibly have in common. And with you in London and her in Cornwall, you won't have much opportunity to really get to know each other."

"Yes. I have considered that."

"So you have devised this renovation of Joan's cottage as an excuse to come down to Cornwall on a regular schedule."

"Uh ... umm ... I have not! Tell me you think Joan's house isn't in need of some serious repair." To himself, he wondered if he would have been quite as keen on making the repairs if he hadn't had the additional attraction of seeing Louisa on each trip. He hadn't really thought about it that way.

"Yes, I will admit that her house is in need of repair, but I'm not quite so certain of the urgency, although I am glad that we had hot water and some heat on this visit.

Ruth continued, "Long distance relationships are difficult to maintain. Even Louisa is concerned about it."

"She said that?" How did Ruth ever get Louisa to tell her what she was thinking?

"Yes. She has thought about the two of you and the distance. Honestly, Martin. Decide whether you really want to pursue her and what kind of sacrifices you would be willing to make to win her. If you still think that she may be the woman you have been looking for, find out if she feels the same way. It's difficult, I know, but don't let the hormones carry you away."

'Hmmm...no."

***Author's note: AMI, Acute Myocardial infarction – also know as a heart attack. It should also be mentioned that aside from a basic first aid course in the Girl Scouts, the author has absolutely no formal medical training.**


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

After his conversation with Ruth, Martin was almost tempted to cancel his date with Louisa that evening. But his desire to see her once again, to see her smile and to feel her in his arms overrode all his doubts. Life was so much simpler before he met her, none of these emotions tearing at the peaceful fabric of his soul. He could focus on his job, fix his clocks, try out new recipes, go to the occasional concert; it was perfect. There was none of this constant obsession with seeing her, hearing her talk...and laugh. He loved her laugh. It suddenly occurred to him that his dream Louisa never laughed, or rarely. He did remember her laughing at a joke he made on their wedding night, but never before or after. Now that he and Louisa seemed to be more than just friends, they really needed to talk about whether they could manage a long distance relationship, or if they wanted to.

What had Ruth asked him? What was he willing to sacrifice to win her? He could never give up surgery and move to Portwenn; that was out of the question, no matter how much he wanted to be with her. He could consider taking a surgical post at Truro and live with Louisa near Portwenn; but that would be a major step back in his career, and he would miss collaborating with his colleagues developing surgical advances and mentoring registrars. No, he really did not want to give up his surgical career in London, although he could envision spending and even enjoying occasional holidays in Portwenn with her, their children and Aunty Joan.

He was willing to cut back his work load to spend more time with a family; he worked longer hours than even the most senior staff as it was. He thought he could give up his peaceful bachelor's existence to live with her and have a family with all the chaos that involved. Her cat was a problem, although he thought he could possibly tolerate having it in their home as long as it stayed out of their bedroom and the bedrooms of their children. He shook his head; memories of James haunted him. Yes, he would like to have children even though he had no idea how to be a father, but was he really considering allowing a cat to invade his home? What was wrong with him? His mind was racing; he'd have to think long and hard about all this.

What sacrifices would Louisa be willing to make? Would she be willing to leave Portwenn to live with him in London and raise a family? That was the big question, wasn't it? He doubted that she would leave the village for him once she really got to know him. Perhaps that was what Aunt Ruth was hinting at when she said she didn't want him to be hurt. He should just forget about her and break it off. He resolved that he would do that tonight. Tell her that the distance between their two homes was just too great for them to possibly continue to see each other. They could remain friends and see each other occasionally when he was in Cornwall, but nothing more. There was no future for them. With that sober decision in place, he plodded from the car park to her home for what he expected to be their last dinner date.

Louisa was puzzled and hurt by Martin's abrupt departure the night before, leaving her standing on the dance floor and rushing off to tend to his aunts. She made her way over to Stefan and Alicia looking for some consolation from her friends. Alicia greeted her happily looking around the hall, "Louisa, where's Martin? I thought that maybe we could end the evening with a nightcap at your cottage." Earlier, after she had seen Martin waltzing Louisa around the floor, she had insisted that he dance with her, and she had enjoyed talking with him about her good friend, Lou. Martin had agreed with her about Louisa's wonderful qualities, but he had little to say of himself and she was hopeful she could learn more. Plus it was too early to call it a night despite the weather.

"He had to take his aunts back to the farm," Louisa replied dejectedly. "As soon as the song was over, he just said goodnight and left, just turned away and 'poof' he was gone. I don't know what I did."

Stefan felt compelled to say something. Martin may not have wanted to share how he had saved a villager's life that night, but Stefan thought she had a right to know. Martin's modesty was admirable, but it wasn't likely to help his cause with Louisa. The more Stefan got to know Martin, the more he admired him, but Martin was never going to win points for his social intelligence. From his dealings with Martin, Stefan had concluded that he was a man of great integrity, a man you could always trust to do the right thing. Even though he and Martin had never discussed Martin's intentions toward Louisa, he could tell that Martin cared very deeply for her. He had never met Louisa's ex-husband Dennis, but Alicia had told him how Dennis had been unfaithful almost from their wedding day. Stefan had watched Louisa reject suitor after suitor for fear of ultimate betrayal. She needed someone she could trust, and for that reason, he thought that Martin would be good for Louisa, and he wanted to ease her mind about his apparent lack of consideration.

"Ah...I don't think you did anything to upset him Louisa. He may not be happy with what I'm about to tell you, but let me assure you that it had nothing to do with you. When we came back in from outside just before the party was over, we weren't out getting some fresh air. One of the villagers, Jack Earley had a stroke and Martin was caring for him whilst we waited for the ambulance."

"Oh, how awful. I had no idea," Alicia was aghast.

"Neither did I. Why didn't either of you tell us what had happened?" Louisa was truly confused.

"Martin wouldn't let me, said it would betray Jack's right to privacy. You have to admire a man who respects another's privacy like that. Of course, he also has to maintain patient confidentiality, but I don't think Jack would mind my telling you what happened.

"Evidently, Jack suddenly had trouble walking and his wife was concerned, so she came over to ask Martin if he could take a look at him. As soon as he saw him, Martin knew he was having a stroke and he took over, quietly barking orders to several of us to call an ambulance and move him into the small meeting room where Martin could examine him without disrupting the party. It was amazing watching him carry out his checks. He even put together a makeshift stethoscope to listen to his arteries. Then he advised the ambulance attendants regarding Jack's care during the trip to hospital and gave them his mobile number in case they needed to consult with him once they arrived. If something ever happens to me, I sure hope Martin's around to ensure I make it.

"I believe that Martin left so abruptly because he wanted to avoid talking to the villagers about what had happened. As I said, he asked me not to say anything to anyone, but I also think he didn't want any special attention."

Both Louisa and Alicia were concerned about Jack, wondering if anyone had heard how he was doing. Stefan promised to call Martin in the morning to ask if he had heard anything. By now, the cleanup committee was just about finished with their job and were encouraging the stragglers out the door. Louisa gave each of her friends a hug and headed home in the dark and rain wishing Martin had been able to walk her home.

Stefan's story had explained why he had left so quickly, but it had done little to ease her mind. When they had first met, she had done some research and had learned that he was a surgeon in a London hospital and that he had written several papers on different surgical techniques. That in itself was impressive, but over the course of this past week she had learned many more things about Martin Ellingham and she had come to the realization that he was more than an ordinary surgeon, that he was extraordinary. When he came to visit in October and then again in November, her impression was that of a remarkable man with a quiet strength of character, someone who was kind to his aunt and who shared her love of exotic cuisines. He seemed interested in her, and based on the way he often looked at her, she sensed that he might be in love with her, so much so that she had begun to consider him as a possible life companion; but this last story had reinforced the fear that had been nagging her since she had learned at Chris and Michelle's party how highly respected he was, the fear that he was completely out of her league.

Why was he spending time with her, a lowly primary school teacher? He told his aunt that he enjoyed her company...and that he thought she was quite beautiful. That was certainly quite flattering, and she was pleased to hear it. His aunt was concerned that he was considering a long distance relationship with her, but was that to be a long-term relationship or a temporary one? She wished she had found a way to ask Ruth if he had said something to her to indicate that he wanted her in his life long-term. Or ... suddenly a terrible thought crossed her mind. Was she just to be his Cornish plaything to be tossed away when his aunt's farmhouse renovation was complete?

She wasn't ordinarily an insecure woman, but she was beginning to think her intellect was not up to his, that her inferior social position as the daughter of a fisherman and lunch lady would ultimately be an impediment. Perhaps they should break off their friendship. She didn't want to stop seeing him; but if he wasn't interested in a committed relationship, it was better to call it off before either of them could be hurt. She decided that she would be more guarded with him tonight to see how he behaved. Perhaps she would even talk with him about his intentions, as old fashioned as that sounded. If that should scare him off, so be it. It was better to know where she stood than risk ultimate rejection and hurt.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Martin gently knocked on Louisa's door, looking forward to seeing her, but also dreading the task he had set for himself later that evening. She opened the door and there she was, his beautiful Louisa. She was wearing dark slacks with a beaded red jumper and he found her stunning.

"Martin, come in." She waved him through, eyes downcast uncertain how to greet him.

"Good evening." He stared longingly at her, uncertain what to say or do.

She looked up at him, smiling and asked, "How are you this evening?"

"Good." Then, unable to resist, he pushed the door closed and leaned over to lightly kiss her lips, keeping his arms by his sides lest he lose control. He pulled back briefly looking into her eyes with that tender sometimes confused look he often had that she loved. She met his gaze and stretched up to give him an equally chaste kiss in return.

"_To hell with control"_, he thought and he wrapped his arms around her in a passionate embrace and deepened the kiss. She felt so good in his arms as she returned his kiss with an ardor of her own. "_Enjoy it while you can old man_," he told himself.

Louisa had selected the red jumper because she knew he thought she looked especially nice in red and it had the desired effect, but still she was surprised at his greeting, and she also told herself to just enjoy the evening. "_Serious talk can wait until later._"

Releasing her, he asked huskily, "Are you ready?"

She nodded her head.

"I thought we could go up the coast to a small bistro Chris recommended. They serve tapas and Chris tells me the food is excellent, that they use the freshest seasonal ingredients, and that it's very casual. Sound okay?"

"Yes, perfect."

Their ride up the coast was even quieter than usual because they were both deep in thought. Fortunately the rain from the previous night had dissipated and the drive was easy. The moon rising over the sea cast a soft glow on the water; it could have been a very romantic ride if they had only noticed. Martin turned on the radio searching for something to soothe the turmoil in his soul, finally settling on a station with a soft jazz format; he was grateful that the constant holiday music that always filled the December airways had finally ceased. Shortly before they arrived, Louisa asked if he was able to get his aunts home safely the previous night. "Yes, of course', he answered.

"I just wondered as you were in such a hurry to leave." Despite his passionate greeting this evening, she wasn't going to let him get away with abandoning her on the dance floor after what had seemed, to her at least, an intimate close to the evening, and her voice was tinged with just a bit of sarcasm.

"I wasn't in a hurry." "_That's an odd tone in her voice. Whatever is she getting at?"_ He wondered to himself. Despite what others might think of his social skills, he was learning to recognise that the tone of Louisa's voice often indicated her mood, just as it did in his dream.

"Felt like it to me when you unceremoniously left me in the middle of the dance floor and ran off to find Joan and Ruth. I wanted to say goodnight properly."

_Say goodnight properly_. Martin thought he knew what she had in mind and wished he could have enjoyed their goodnight as well. "Well...yes. That would have been nice. But I was concerned about road conditions with two elderly women in the car."

"So you said. But you could have apologised and said "I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow.' At least then I wouldn't have felt that I had done something to irritate you. But all you said was a curt 'Goodnight'"

They had finally arrived at the restaurant and Martin turned off the car, then turned to Louisa and defended himself. "I believe I did explain before I left you _unceremoniously_ on the dance floor, as you put it, that I had to take Joan and Ruth back before the weather got worse." While he acknowledged to himself that his departure was abrupt, he did not think he had been rude and he felt she was accusing him unfairly. At that moment, he felt like he frequently had when dream Louisa accused him of saying the wrong thing or doing something inappropriate when he had no idea what she as talking about.

"Yes you did, but it was the way you said it without even looking at me and then rushing off."

"The way I said it? I don't understand." He turned away from her to open his door and got out of the car. He repeated to himself as he closed his door, _"The way I said it? Whatever does that mean?"_ Walking slowly to her side of the car gave him a moment to think, not really enough time, but enough for him to know it was time to apologise to avoid complete disaster. She was sitting in the car staring straight ahead when he opened the door. 'I'm sorry I was abrupt. I didn't mean to upset you. I just needed to leave as soon as possible."

This conversation was illuminating she realised because he really didn't understand; his behaviour last night was undoubtedly typical, one of the reasons he had the reputation of being so difficult. She took his hand and standing up said, "Apology accepted. We don't want to argue tonight do we?" She reached up to gently caress his cheek. "Look at the moon. Isn't it beautiful? Let's see if we can get a table by the window so we can look out over the sea."

He looked up at the moon and out at the sea and gave her a sceptical look furrowing his brow and scowling. 'It's dark".

She saw his look and added, "I know it's dark, but the moonlight on the water can be quite beautiful...and romantic."

"Yes." He glanced back at the sea and rolled his eyes shaking his head. Fortunately she had already turned to enter the restaurant and didn't see this last gesture.

The restaurant was quite popular and would probably be crowded later in the evening as folks tended to want something simple on the nights between the two holidays. But because it was still early, it wasn't crowded, so they were able to find a seat next to the window. After they sat down and the waiter had left to get their drinks, Louisa surprised him by announcing, "Stefan told me what you did last night for Jack, examining him and caring for him until the ambulance came. You do know that you are an extraordinary man."

"No, I'm not. I was just doing what I've been trained to do, nothing more." Despite Joan's order that he say he was happy to help, he just couldn't do it.

"Even so, Stefan said you were very professional, and kept everyone calm whilst they waited for the ambulance. He said Margie, that's Jack's wife, was in a near panic and that you were able to calm her down. He said you quietly explained to her what was happening and what to expect when they got to hospital and that with proper treatment, Jack had a good chance of regaining most of his abilities. I am so impressed. Why didn't you tell me what happened?"

"Patient confidentiality, it would be unethical to discuss a patient's condition with someone other than family. And, as I said, it wasn't a particularly difficult diagnosis and there wasn't much I could do but wait for the ambulance and ensure that they treated him appropriately whilst on way to hospital. I really didn't do anything more than any other doctor would or could have done under the circumstances. And I really must respect a patient's privacy."

"I understand now, but at the time I was hurt and upset when you left because I thought I had done something to offend you. Stefan told us what had happened and that you probably wanted to leave to avoid answering questions for which you had no answers. That helped me put your departure into perspective. It helped me understand that you weren't angry with me. But it would have been nice if you had just said something like 'I can't discuss it right now, but I have to go. I will call you tomorrow' or something to let me know it wasn't something I had said or done to make you rush off."

"Right." He tucked his chin and stared down at the menu in his hand. He had already apologised for his behaviour; wasn't that enough?

"Not just 'right' Martin. Do you remember what I told you when we were walking on the coastal path ... the first time you came to Portwenn? I told you I would give you a look when you did something inappropriate. Well this is my way of telling you that leaving so abruptly was upsetting. You could have handled the situation better and I expect you to be more forthcoming if that kind of situation arises again"

"Misbehave", Martin remembered that walk on the coastal path like it was yesterday.

"What?"

"You give me the look when I 'misbehave'...That was your word."

"Yes, I guess it was...though probably not an appropriate word for a grown man."

"Like when we were in line for dinner last night. You gave me 'the look' when I mentioned those children who really were misbehaving. What was wrong with my pointing out their appalling behaviour? Their parents should have taken them in hand."

"Yes Martin, you are right, the children were behaving badly, but it's almost always impolite to point that out to their parents."

"I wasn't speaking to their parents, only to you."

"Yes, but others could hear you. In this case, the children were tired and hungry. Even children who are normally well behaved may not be able to control themselves when they are hungry or tired. They don't always understand that etiquette requires them to wait quietly. It's also a matter of maturity, acquiring the cognitive ability to understand that their needs can't always come before others. Of course I know some adults who haven't learned that lesson...present company excluded of course."

"Well our children won't behave that way."

"Our children, Martin?" With a raised eyebrow and a twinkle in her eye, she gave him a quizzical look as if to say, "_Are you trying to tell me something?_"

"_Oh bugger. How did that slip out?"_ Martin was flustered and he could feel the colour rising in his neck and cheeks. Despite his decision earlier in the evening to break it off with her, he was thinking of the children that they might have in future together, but he certainly hadn't meant it to come out that way. "Uh...um...ah...I meant any children that you _or_ I might have in future."

Fortunately for Martin, the waiter came over just then to deliver their drinks and to ask if they were ready to order. As neither of them had looked at the menu yet, they asked for a few more minutes and began to peruse the extensive menu. "This may take a while; there are so many options." Louisa was suddenly overwhelmed.

"The dishes are small, just a few bites each, so I suggest we order in a systematic fashion. Perhaps a few seafood dishes or cold salad items to start, then whilst we wait for those to arrive, we can decide on a few vegetable dishes, then perhaps a few meat, etc."

"Good idea" Louisa agreed and they each found several items that they would like to try and settled on a few to start, and then continued reviewing the menu for other interesting dishes to try out. Both of them were "foodies" and by the end of the evening, they had discovered several dishes and methods of preparation they wanted to try at home.

They continued their conversation as they ate their way through the menu. "So Martin, it sounds like you hope to have children someday?

"Yes, I would like to have a family."

"But wouldn't that be difficult? You are so busy with your work."

"We have had this conversation before if you remember, the first time I came to Portwenn." Martin couldn't forget any of the conversations they had had and was a little surprised she had forgotten.

"As I remember you said that you were now established in your career and didn't feel the need to devote yourself to it 24/7 as you had at the start. But still, it must be very demanding. Would you be able to put your family first if problems arose?"

"It is demanding and I would still have to take my share of 'on-calls' and emergencies, but it is a big hospital and there is almost always someone who can step in if necessary."

He went on. "But what about you? I know you said that you want a family. You would have similar demands on your time as head teacher. Wouldn't you want to stay home with your children and see to it that they had the best start in life, or would you want to leave your children with some nanny or child-minder to raise while you were at school teaching other people's children?" This was important to Martin; he wanted his children raised by their mother, not some substitute. He remembered from his dream how difficult it was to find a competent child-minder for James.

"Staying home with your children isn't a luxury most mothers can afford. Most of us have to work."

"But if you had that option, wouldn't you prefer it?"

"I don't know. I've never thought about it, never even thought of it as an option. If I were to stay at home with just my children all day, I think I would miss the stimulation of my job, the challenges that teaching gives me. Perhaps if I had that option, I would choose to teach half days or something like that...have the best of both worlds. Would you want to stay home all day raising your children?"

"Um ... but I would need to work to provide for my family."

"But if your wife were just as capable of providing for the family, would you agree to be the one staying home?"

"Not likely. I am very highly compensated. And my work is very important."

"And mine isn't?"

"I didn't say that."

"No you didn't. But my work is very important as well. Educating the next generation is one of the most important occupations there is."

"Yes...um..."

"You didn't answer my question. Would you want to stay home and care for your children if you didn't have to work?"

"Um...hadn't really ever thought about it. Always expected my wife would want to stay home with our children... um.. ah...I like my work...hmm" Martin knew he would never give up his job to care for an infant, but didn't know how to admit that to Louisa when he truly felt that she should do just that. The terrible row that he and Dream Louisa had had on this very subject flashed through his mind. Dream Louisa had suggested that he stay home and care for James Henry since only one of them needed to work. The conversation with the real Louisa was more civilized, certainly less contentious even though they each took the same positions. Even though she confused him occasionally and frequently disapproved of his behaviour, he loved that she was so even tempered, so patient with him.

The real Louisa asserted, "I like my work too."

"Hmm ... yes."

They were talking generalities, but both of them knew that they were discussing how they would care for any children that they might have together should their relationship progress. Despite the misgivings that each had had since the end of the dinner dance, they were still hopeful, but would this issue be an impediment if they wished to marry? It was good that they had started this conversation. They may not have resolved the issue, but they were learning how the other thought about parental roles. And now, they realised that they each had even more to think about. Martin needed to think whether it was fair to ask his wife, whether it was Louisa or someone else, to give up her career to take care of their children and Louisa needed to think about whether she would want to stay home when her children were small if she had the financial means to do so.

The waiter came to remove their used plates and to bring the next course. Louisa glanced out the window and noticed that the moon had risen higher in the sky. "Look how the moonlight shimmers on the water. Isn't it beautiful?"

Martin looked up from his plate to watch her as she gazed out the window, glanced briefly at the moonlight reflecting on the incoming and outgoing tide, then looked back at her. Did he really want to leave her? Would she consider moving for him? Perhaps he should give it more time.

He glanced back out to the sea and replied, "Yes."


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

It was with conflicted feelings that they drove back to Portwenn. This was beginning to be a theme for them; every car ride was a time to contemplate their relationship. They were feeling more optimistic on the way home than they had earlier, and both were looking forward to spending the rest of the evening together.

Martin was emotionally spent after sharing his feelings on the drive over and during dinner, and he had decided to postpone the breakup. He just didn't have the energy for it; besides their talk of children had given him hope that maybe she was interested in him, and that perhaps someday she would consider moving to London to be with him.

Louisa was elated by their conversation at dinner. Here was a man, a single man, an attractive single man, an attractive single man whose company she enjoyed, a man for whom she felt great respect, who was highly respected in his field, and who wanted a family. He was terribly old fashioned in his views of gender roles with respect to the care of children, but he seemed open to discussing alternative viewpoints. And she felt certain that he was very interested in her. That kiss when he arrived this evening spoke volumes, more than any words ever could. She felt that she could have a future with him if that was what he wanted.

They walked hand in hand from the car park to Louisa's cottage, where once they arrived, she asked him in for tea. They hung up their coats and headed to the kitchen, where she put the kettle on. Louisa's cat, Ms. Lisbeth joined them within a minute or so, and started rubbing up against Martin's legs and meowing. "Oh God, Louisa. It's your cat."

"Yes, it is. She certainly loves you." Louisa leant down and picked her up, cradling her in her arms like a baby and rubbing her belly. "Hi there, sweetheart. Have we been ignoring you over the holidays?" It didn't take much to make Lizzie happy and she started to purr loudly.

"What is that noise? Kind of a low rumble. Is that coming from the cat? Is he okay?

"_She_ is fine, Martin. She's purring. It means she's happy. Haven't you ever heard a cat purr?"

"No." The kettle started whistling, which startled Martin so that he jumped. He stepped over to remove the kettle from the hob and went to the cupboard to get the tea and two mugs. "You've been handling the cat so I'll brew the tea."

"Thank you." Louisa continued to cuddle with her cat, scratching her under her chin, and cooing to her whilst nuzzling her fur. She refused to let Martin's insinuation about Lizzie's presence in the kitchen upset her, but Martin looked at her horrified, "What are you doing? You'll catch all sorts of germs rubbing your face into that animal's fur."

"No I won't. Lizzie keeps herself very clean, don't you my little love sponge." And she continued to rub her cheek against Lizzie's fur.

"The tea is ready. Wash your hands before you pick up your mug."

"Martin, you are such an old lady." Louisa laughed, but went to the sink to wash her hands anyway. She was determined to enjoy the rest of the evening, and arguing with him about feline hygiene would likely ruin it.

"Humph."

They went into the lounge and sat down next to each other on the sofa. Martin put his free arm along the back of the sofa behind Louisa. She moved closer and cuddled into his side, and he let his hand slip down to caress her arm. Lizzie jumped up onto Louisa's lap. "This is nice, isn't it, so cosy. Dinner was just lovely. You'll have to tell Chris that we both enjoyed it."

Martin whispered into her hair, "Yes."

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Louisa wanted to take advantage of all his time in the village. He would be gone soon enough. She was planning to work tomorrow, but could make time for him if he was free.

"Meeting with the architect and contractor in the morning. I told your friend Carrie that I'd look at her antique clock in the afternoon, and I'm taking Auntie Joan to dinner in the early evening."

"Oh...I guess you'll be busy all day." Louisa could not hide the disappointment in her voice. "When are you heading back to London? Will you be here the day after tomorrow?"

'I was planning to go back on New Year's Eve. I have to work New Year's Day. But if all my business is completed tomorrow, I may go back a day early." He would have liked to see her again, but he was ready to get back to his home.

"Oh. Then tonight may be the last night we have. Do you know when you will be back?"

"It will depend on when the plans are finalized and whether the contractor will need me back before he starts the renovation. Of course all that depends on Stefan's getting my father to relinquish his claims to the farm."

"So ... I guess it could be months before we see each other again. I will miss seeing you." Louisa really was sad to think that it might be months before Martin made his way back here, and she couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice.

Martin couldn't believe what she was saying, that she would miss him. Had anyone ever missed his presence? Before he realised what he was saying, he blurted out, "Well you could come up to London with me. I have to work on Thursday, but I am free for the rest of the holiday weekend."

Louisa was tempted; certainly time with him in London would be enlightening; even so, she wasn't sure. Were they ready to spend four or five days together?

"Uh...I'm not sure...uh"

"You could stay with me. I have a spare room with an en-suite bath. You would have plenty of privacy, and we could visit all the sights you missed when your friend hurt herself this summer." Playing tourist wasn't something Martin had done since school trips as a child, but he thought it might be a pleasant way to pass the time with Louisa. It would give them time to get to know each other better and for her to think about life in London with him if she really did enjoy time with him.

"It's not that. It's just that I have a lot of work to do to prepare for the new term that starts Monday week." She really was tempted. It would be a way to get to know the real Martin, see London through his eyes, see what life there in his world could be like. If there was a potential future for them, certainly several days together in London would either bring them together or tell them that it wasn't going to work.

"Just come for a few days. You could bring some of your work to complete on Thursday whilst I am on-call at hospital, perhaps? If not, you could return Saturday."

"I don't know. Let me get myself organized tomorrow and see whether I could rearrange my schedule. Call me tomorrow night and I'll let you know."

"Good." Martin looked at her snuggled into his side smiling up at him and felt that life couldn't get any better than this unless...he put his tea down onto the side table, then took her face into his free hand and kissed her softly on the lips. "You are so beautiful. Do you know that?" It had suddenly occurred to him that dream Louisa liked for him to say 'nice things'. Perhaps he should try that with the real Louisa.

It had the desired effect. She glanced down for a moment and then leaned up to kiss him back. Then she completely surprised him by saying, "You are incredibly handsome as well." Quickly placing her cup on the table, she took his face in her hands and kissed him again.

He pulled away and looked at her intently as if he wanted to say something, but then held back uncertain how to proceed. She was puzzled by the expression on his face and asked, "What?"

"Nothing." He hesitated, knowing it could go badly. The tone of her voice reminded him of his first kiss with Dream Louisa which didn't go well when he answered her question. She urged him on, "No, say it; tell me."

"Um ... " He sniffed the air slightly.

She knew what the problem was, had noticed it herself, and she chuckled, "Yeah. I know. We shouldn't have ordered that second plate of champiñones al ajillo*****."

"No."

"They _were_ awfully good."

"Yes; they were." He kissed her lightly again, then added. "Do you have some mouthwash? We could … um …" His acute sense of smell had picked up the odor of garlic on her breath the moment he kissed her; he was certain that his breath was equally pungent. He didn't want her to be put off by his breath, but he didn't want to release her from his arms either.

"If you want to … um …?" She didn't seem inclined to get up either.

"I'm not bothered if you're not."

She smiled and agreed, "No, I'm not either … " She leaned over to kiss him back.

As they deepened the kiss, the garlic was soon forgotten. He slid his hands around her waist and lifted her up so she was sitting on his lap.

She pulled back, looking deep into his eyes. "Oh, Louisa", he whispered, and he slid his hands just under her jumper to caress the soft skin on her lower back. She reached up to loosen his tie, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt and running her fingers through the hair at the back of his head and stroking his neck and shoulders. He pulled her to him and kissed her again, trailing kisses down her cheek to nuzzle her neck and throat. Louisa arched her neck, overwhelmed by the feelings he aroused in the sensitive areas there. She pulled back and moved her hands down to her waist as if to remove her jumper. He gently pulled her hands back down, and whispered, "Not yet."

"Not yet?" Why was he stopping? She was certain he wanted her. She could feel his desire throbbing through his trousers.

"No," he groaned. "It's too soon."

She lay her head on his shoulder wrapping her arms around his back, sighing. "I suppose you're right."

"I am. I should go."

"No. I'll get us some more tea and then we can talk." She jumped up and took their cups into the kitchen to refill them. Lizzie jumped up on Martin's lap and settled in. He absentmindedly started to rub the top of her head, completely confused at the turn the evening had taken. Having her in his arms felt so right, but all his knowledge about the interaction of hormones and emotions stimulated by sexual intercourse told him to wait, not to confuse those emotions with love. He certainly liked and admired Louisa, but did he love her? He loved what he knew about her so far and he loved spending time with her, but he felt that he needed to spend more time with her to know for sure. Plus he still had the added distraction of his memories of dream Louisa to confuse him. And he really didn't want to "talk" tonight. He had had enough talking for one night already.

Louisa came back in and set their cups on the table and sat in the arm chair across from the sofa. Perhaps it was time to find out just what he wanted from her because it certainly didn't seem to be what most men would have wanted by now. It was nice to be with a man who wasn't pressuring her for sex right out the gate, and it was consistent with his old fashioned views on gender roles. Perhaps he was like her in wanting to be certain there was a possible future for them before becoming sexually involved. It didn't appear that she was just someone to play with whilst he was in Cornwall as she had feared earlier in the day, but she was still confused.

He watched her cross the room and sit down when he realised the cat was on his lap. "Ack!" He threw Lizzie off his lap. "How did she get there? Louisa, control your cat."

Unperturbed, Lizzie walked out to the kitchen in search of a night-time snack.

"Martin..."She began.

"Umm? ...

"What are you doing with me?"

"What? I believe it's obvious. We are having tea."

"No, I mean...why are you spending time with me here in Cornwall? I feel like we have a special connection, but do we? Or am I just someone to keep you company whilst you visit your aunt?" And before she could stop herself, she murmured, "Am I just your Cornish plaything?"

"_Oh God, I don't have the energy for this tonight,_" he thought to himself and insulted at what she was implying, he groaned, "Cornish plaything? What are you talking about?" As he thought about what she had said, he became angry and his voice rose as his anger grew, "Good God woman, I just asked you to join me in London for a few days, so no, you... are... **not**... my 'Cornish plaything'". He spat out the last two words with disgust. _"How could she even think something like that of me."_

Louisa was not intimidated by his shouting and responded in a calm quiet tone. "I've asked you before not to shout at me; it's unkind and disrespectful."

Feeling remorseful about the 'Cornish plaything' remark, especially since he could have had her that evening and had held back, she added, "And I apologise for my last remark. It was unfair; I don't really feel like you are toying with me. You have always been a perfect gentleman."

"Um ... thank you." Martin nodded his head.

"But ... I just don't see how you, such a highly respected London surgeon could possibly be interested in me, a lowly Cornish schoolteacher. And then you act like you want me, but that it's too soon in our relationship to make love. And just let me say that I'm glad that we're not rushing into anything we might regret, really I am. But I'm also really confused. How will we know when that time comes, and how will we ever get to know each other better with you in London and me down here? I would like to make it work, but I just don't know if we can."

Martin leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face in his hands. Looking across at her, he responded in a quieter tone, "Louisa, I really don't have the energy to talk about this tonight. I'm tired and I can't think straight."

"Then I guess you'd better go."

"Right." He rose to leave, buttoning his shirt and straightening his tie. He walked to the door and retrieved his suit jacket and overcoat. She followed him and stood quietly nearby watching him as he prepared to leave. He turned to face her, holding himself stiffly with his hands next to his side twitching his fingers nervously. He knew they were in a tricky place and he wanted to leave with some hope so he turned to face her and looking tenderly into her eyes, he spoke softly but with conviction, "I want to make it work also; I hope we can find a way. Good night."

He turned to open the door, but she pulled him back hugging him around the waist, resting her head against his shoulder, "I really don't want you to leave."

"Um ... it's for the best." He leaned down and gently kissed her, then said "Think about London."

She was pensive and twirled a lock of her hair in her fingers. "Yes. I will."

"I will call you tomorrow evening. Good night then."

She watched him as he slowly walked into the night away from her door until he turned a corner and was out of sight. She noted the way he held himself completely erect even when tired; she found his gait completely seductive and knew she was in deep. Lizzie rubbed up against her leg and she picked up the cat and held her close. "I wish he could have stayed, don't you sweetheart?"

Lizzie meowed in agreement whilst Louisa closed and latched the door.

**Author's note: The champiñones al ajillo vignette was inspired by the chapter 28 review left by my friend Boots1980 who knows I don't care for mushrooms, and of course, the last few minutes of S1E6, _Haemophobia_.**


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

The holiday visit to Portwenn had been busy and even though he had planned to stay another day, Martin was ready to head back to London. He was hoping that Louisa would agree to go with him tomorrow, but he had to wait until after dinner with Auntie Joan before he could call and find out her decision. It wasn't that he was finding Portwenn irritating or lacking stimulation. On the contrary, he found even the winter scenery spectacular on his daily walks along the cliffs, and he cherished the time he was able to spend with both Louisa and Aunty Joan. It was just that he missed having his own things about, his books and music, and his own kitchen systematically organized so each utensil was easy to find. Plus he had planned to work on the paper he was presenting later in the spring and he had found little time to work on it.

Dinner with Auntie Joan could be challenging because he knew there would be questions about Louisa. If he and Louisa were able to spend a few days in London together, they might decide that the attraction between them was worth the difficulties of a long distance relationship, or they might not. There would be plenty of time for sharing with Joan either way. Otherwise, if Louisa decided she could not go with him, he hoped to convince her to come for a long weekend in mid-January.

With the renovation now on track, there were many other things for them to discuss over dinner. The meeting with the architect Geoffrey Trewin and the contractor Morgan Prouse went well. Martin had gone over his ideas with Joan early that morning; while she had balked at the extent of his proposed changes, he had managed to convince her of their necessity. Before the two professionals arrived, he drafted up an outline of the repairs and enhancements upon which he and Joan had agreed to be certain that the meeting would proceed in as efficient a manner as possible. Geoffrey could see no problems with making the few structural changes required by Martin's proposals, but Morgan pointed out the potential for problems in a couple of the plumbing upgrades. A few minutes working out the details enabled them to come up with a solution acceptable to all parties so that, by the time they left, Geoffrey was ready to begin drafting the plans. He agreed to have the preliminary drawing completed by the end of January for Martin, Joan and Morgan to review. Martin also planned to ask Louisa for her input when the time came, although he didn't share that with Joan.

Joan had selected an excellent seafood restaurant just this side of Padstow. She wanted someplace that didn't serve chicken which was the staple of her diet despite living on the outskirts of a fishing village. She was looking forward to this outing with her Marty, just the two of them. While they were driving, she happily chatted about her various friends and their troubles. Some were raising their grandchildren on their own with all the challenges that entailed. Some never heard from their children, and constantly bemoaned their ingratitude. Most were afflicted with the various ills that besiege the elderly. She just counted herself as one of the lucky ones, "So far, I've managed to stay hale and hearty, just a little arthritis, which isn't too bad for late 60's."

Martin couldn't help but comment, "Well, it would be better if you shifted a few pounds. It would help reduce your blood pressure. When was the last time you had a complete physical. Do you even know your cholesterol levels? Who is your GP? Is it that American, O' ... um ... O'Bleary?"

Joan rolled her eyes at Martin's apparent memory lapse. "Michael O'Leary is his name, and yes he is my GP."

"I'm not sure he is all that competent...leaving the village for two weeks at this time of year."

"You just don't like him because he is interested in Louisa."

Martin had almost forgotten that O'Leary had acted very possessively toward Louisa when they had dinner in November. Louisa had mentioned that they were friends, that they had been "seeing" each other, whatever that meant, and that Michael was pressing her to get serious and move with him to America. She also told him that she wasn't interested.

"He is?" What did Aunty Joan know about the two of them?

"Yes, he's very keen. I would have thought you would have known that."

"And why would I know that? I'm not here every day to catch up on the local gossip."

'I thought it might have come up in conversation with Louisa."

"No." Of course, now that he thought about it, Martin was certain that he knew O'Leary, or Michael as Louisa called him, was a rival for her affections. But he had no idea how Louisa really felt about him despite what she had told him. He hated asking his aunt for information, but decided that he was already in deep so he might as well go for it. "And what do the local wags say about Louisa? Is she _keen_ on him?"

"Until you showed up, the local gossips would have told you they were headed for the altar. Now the gossips are giving 50-50 odds between the two of you. But they don't know what they are gossiping about. I had a conversation with Louisa about this right after she came back from London this fall. She told me that she likes him and enjoys his company, but doesn't see it getting serious because he is headed back to America after his contract ends and she doesn't want to move from England."

"Hmm". Yes Louisa had told him that she didn't want to move from Portwenn and Aunty Joan's comments corroborated what Louisa had told him, but Martin couldn't prevent his imagination from picturing Louisa and Michael engaging in the same kind of activity they had enjoyed together the previous night, and even in bed together. He scowled and let out a low rumbling growl.

Picking up on the emotion in that growl, Auntie Joan decided to break Louisa's confidence a bit and said, "If it helps, Louisa told me that they haven't slept together even though Michael has been pressuring her to take that step. I trust you will keep that to yourself? I don't want her to know that I shared something she told me in confidence."

His lips relaxed and the scowl faded from his face. "Of course"

"So...are you going to tell me what your intentions toward her are? Or are you courting her like some 18th century suitor, not touching until the wedding night? If so, it's unlikely you'll get to the wedding night if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you."

"Oh Marty, you're impossible."

A sly grin crossed Martin's face as he kept his eyes on the road. Auntie Joan caught sight of the brief change in his expression and instantly knew she had been right when she surmised that they were dancing much too closely than "just good friends" would at the holiday dinner dance. She was certain that he had made more progress on the Louisa front than he would ever admit to her and she sat back with a contented smile of her own.

Later as they enjoyed their salads, Joan started reminiscing about his childhood visits to the farm. "Phil and I always looked forward to your visits, you know that don't you? We would count down the days from one visit to the next."

"Umm. I did the same, especially once I was off at boarding school. Knowing I was to spend holidays with you and Uncle Phil was all I could think about when lights went out each night. Those trips were the highlight of my childhood. And I treasured your letters to me. You can't imagine how sad I was when Dad told me that there were to be no more summers or Christmas breaks at the farm. I never knew why. He just said it was time for me to grow up."

"Yes, we hated that he wouldn't let you come anymore and tried to reason with him, arguing that your time on the farm was just as educational as the time you spent at school. We missed you terribly. Of course several years after you stopped coming Phil got sick and died after just a few months. It was horrible."

As she recalled that period in her life, she grew angry and her tone took on a sharpness that was seldom there, "I so wanted you to be there so you could say good-bye. But your Dad would have none of it. Said I had coddled you too much as it was. Terrible, unfeeling man." She shuddered with the memory of Christopher's brutally cold reply to her plea for Martin's presence at Phil's deathbed.

"Yes." Martin sensed Joan's anger. "You wrote to me that he was sick, but I didn't know he was going to die. It was only several months later when you wrote and told me that I understood how ill he had been. Dad never mentioned it."

Martin was curious about John Slater. He actually remembered going on a sailing trip with him and Joan one time and getting seasick, not wetting himself. Were he and his Aunt lovers? Was that the real reason his father forbid him to visit the farm, or was it as Joan said, that his father thought Joan was coddling him? Perhaps it really was none of his business, just as his relationship with Louisa was really none of her business, at least for now.

He finished his salad and put his fork down. "Well it didn't do me any harm, in the end." Martin knew the added time he had for his studies was one of the reasons for his success.

"What?" Joan had been lost in thought, still thinking of Phil and the agony he had endured during the months before he died.

"My staying at school."

"Oh, yes, perhaps. Well it was a long time ago. I'm just glad you have started coming back down again. It is so good to see you, have you be a part of my life again. I just hope you will be able to keep it up. I know how busy you are."

"I plan to come down and supervise the renovations and then hope to visit several times a year once they are completed."

"And more often if you have a family?"

"That's a possibility."

"I hope so. I'd love to have grandchildren."

"All the more reason to take better care of yourself."

**Author's Note: It's been a while since I have had any time to write. Real life has had me in its grip and wouldn't let go. I hope you enjoyed this short chapter. I can't promise regular chapters for a few more weeks, but I will try to post more often. Happy Easter everyone.**


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

"Martin, I forgot that Roger and I were scheduled to go over to the Eden Project tomorrow. It's been open for a few years now and we've heard very good things about it, how much students can learn from the exhibits and programs offered. We had arranged to meet with the staff there tomorrow to see how we could use their facility to supplement our science program. I just can't go to London with you this week, much as I'd like to."

After spending all day in her office at school, Louisa had realized that most of the work she needed to complete before term time required her to be at the school in her office or in Cornwall. She had dozens of forms that had to be completed and the information was contained in the paper files in her office, none of which had been transferred to electronic records. And then the Eden Project staff called to confirm her appointment the next day and she knew travelling to London just was not going to work this week. She knew Martin would be just as disappointed as she was, at least she hoped he would.

"Hmm" Martin was disappointed, but knew that this was a possibility.

"Do you think I could visit another time?"

"Yes. When would you like to come? A long weekend sometime soon?" He couldn't hide his joy that she did want to visit him in London.

"I was thinking maybe in three weeks; by then all the kinks that crop up at the beginning of term should be ironed out so I could take a few half days off. I could come up on a Friday afternoon and return early on Monday. Would that work? Maybe we could take in a show and a few museums. I don't think the weather will be suitable for any outdoor activities."

"Yes. Good...umm... when do you think you will get back tomorrow? Maybe we could have dinner. I could cook."

"I thought you had planned to leave tomorrow."

"I can stay another day."

"That would be nice. I'd like that. We plan to leave here at half 8 to arrive in plenty of time for our appointment with the education staff. We'll probably leave by 3 or 4 at the latest so we should be back in Portwenn by 5. Why don't you plan to come over around 5:30 and we can fix something yummy?"

"Right. I'll bring some fish and vegetables?"

"Good ... What do you think about trying some Greek flavours, maybe lemon juice and olive oil with some capers or garlic? I have a great recipe for a rocket and fennel root salad. We could make a rice pilaf, or," she paused for a moment. "You know what I've been craving, some cauliflower cheese. I know it's not really a Greek flavour, but I'd really like it; it must be the cold weather. Maybe I could pick up some baklava for pudding. What do you think?" She had been wanting to try some Greek cooking ever since Michael had taken her to the Greek restaurant before Christmas.

"You do know that all the cheese in the cauliflower cheese really isn't good for you, full of saturated fats." He would have preferred to roast the cauliflower in some olive oil.

"But every now and then it can't hurt, and it's so warm and comforting in the dead of winter." She argued while thinking, _"Dating a vascular surgeon could definitely have its downside."_

"Humph. Alright, but I may just roast some of that cauliflower without the cheese for myself."

'Really Martin? Don't you like cauliflower cheese?"

Realising that arguing the merits of plain vegetables over those slathered in a creamy cheese sauce wasn't the way to her heart, so to speak, Martin let the subject drop. "It's fine. Send me the recipes tonight and I'll pick up the extra ingredients and the baklava...save you some time."

"Okay, that would be nice. I'll see you tomorrow night then."

Martin fished under the mat for the key to Louisa's door. She had called at 4:40 telling him that they were trapped in traffic and that she wasn't sure when they would arrive back in Portwenn. He had all the ingredients for their meal packed up and he was just finishing a simple crab and shrimp spread for a starter when she called. "Why don't you just head on over to my place and make yourself at home. That way we can get started as soon as I arrive. If Roger and I are lucky we should be back in an hour. There's a spare key under the mat." He headed straight over thinking he could get the preparations under way while he waited. He did feel a little uncomfortable entering her home without her being present, but once inside he got to work and had the meal ready to cook when she rushed in at 5:45.

"I am so sorry I'm late. That traffic was just awful, stop and creep all the way from Bodmin to Wadebridge." She walked over to give him a quick kiss and took off her coat and hung it on the back of a kitchen chair.

He had bought a good bottle of white wine that he thought she would enjoy with their meal. He immediately poured her a glass and put it in her hand, "Good-evening". He placed the plate of crackers with the crab and shrimp spread that he had prepared earlier in the middle of the table and urged her to sit down. After taking her coat off the chair and stepping out to the hall cupboard to hang it up, he quickly returned and sat down opposite her.

"I've got everything in hand. I found all the ingredients for the recipes you sent. The cauliflower cheese is in the cooker and the rice pilaf is done and resting. I was waiting for you to arrive before putting the fish on. We can put the salad together after you have a chance to rest."

He was getting hungry and spooned some of the dip onto a cracker and took a bite. "Try to relax and tell me about your trip and I will check the marinade for the fish."

Lizzie heard her come in and wandered over to greet her, rubbing against her leg and purring. She leaned down and scratched her kitty's head, "I guess I should give you your tea, little miss."

"No need. I fed him just a few minutes ago." Lizzie had come in while Martin was working and began to rub against his leg and meow loudly. He realized that the cat wouldn't cease unless he fed it, so he rummaged around until he found the cat food in a lower cupboard and put some out.

"Really? And you have our dinner almost ready?" Picking Lizzie up and settling her on her lap, Louisa said, "By the way, Lizzie is a female cat, so you can say you fed _her_." Turning her attention to Lizzie again she added, "But we could get used to this no matter what he calls you, couldn't we my lovely? I think Martin is spoiling us."

As she sat there, Louisa could feel her eyes tearing up; it had been years since someone had taken care of her like this, not since she had been a young child. She had been feeling so panicky at being late, but Martin was so calm, knowing just what she needed. It was overwhelming. She reached for a tissue hoping to wipe away the tears, but just then Martin looked up from his cooking and noticed.

"What's wrong? Did the visit not go well? What can I do?" He was flustered, never knowing what to do with a crying woman. He put down the whisk he was using on the salad dressing and rushed to her side.

"Nothing is the matter, Martin. I was just so surprised coming home and having everything ready. It's wonderful...you are wonderful. I do feel spoiled." Seeing him start to blush and sputter, she realized she had said too much and so she changed the subject. "These crackers are delicious. I love the shrimp and crab spread; it's really unusual, tangy."

"Yogurt is the binding agent. Much healthier than mayonnaise or cream cheese."

"Yum. Thank you."

"Just being efficient."

"Yes." She smiled up at him, with the smile he had been longing to see all day, the smile for which he had postponed his trip home. He returned her smile with the tender adoring look she loved, "I'll just get to it."

Whilst he cooked she told him all about their day at the Eden Project, how the staff could put on programs and workshops for any age group they cared to bring. They could also provide resource materials to help Roger prepare a field trip to lead by himself. Given their limited budget, she and Roger felt that this might be the way they should go. They brought back all kinds of material to review and planned to meet on Friday to discuss it. They would probably start by taking the oldest children this year and if the budget allowed, add a younger class the following year.

He served up their dinner and they discussed her visit to London in three weeks. Martin had checked his work schedule to ensure he would be free that weekend and he had also checked the train schedule and suggested they make the reservations that evening. He wasn't sure if she would let him, but he was hoping to buy her ticket knowing that her salary wouldn't afford frequent trips to London. They discussed possible itineraries and some of the restaurants Martin wanted to take her to. "Just be sure we have at least one night in when we can cook something together," Louisa cautioned.

'Right". Martin wanted her visit to be perfect so she would be willing to return. But in the back of his mind was the knowledge that he would undoubtedly muck it up. He also wanted, no he needed to tell her about his dream before they became more involved. It might reassure her that he really could be interested in a Cornish school teacher if he didn't bungle it and sound like a crazed lunatic. Should he tell her tonight? He wasn't sure.

They cleaned up together after dinner, amiably chatting about the Greek flavours they had enjoyed that evening and possibilities for other dishes they might try. "I purchased some baklava as you requested. Would you like some now?"

"You know, I'm not sure I have room for it right now, perhaps just some tea. But why don't you try it? I find that a little sweet like that can be the perfect finish, and baklava is really healthy if you think about it with the nuts and honey."

"Yes ... especially if you ignore the butter and sugar." Martin decided to take a pass on the baklava as well and they took their tea into the lounge. Louisa had put on some light show tunes whilst they were cleaning up and found herself dancing to a particularly bouncy tune as they walked in. It was "I'm gonna wash that man right outta my hair" from South Pacific. "_Hmm_," she thought, _"Good thing this is just an instrumental; the lyrics would probably send Martin for the door."_ She put her tea cup down, took Martin's cup as well, then took his hand and grinned, "Let's dance"

Martin looked at her aghast, "What? To this song? It's too fast."

"No it isn't. Look, just follow my lead," and she stood next to him and showed him a simple swing step. "Come on. It'll be fun."

"I'm not so sure about that," but he tried to copy her footsteps, clumsily at first, and soon she took his hand and they were doing a simple swing type dance, despite his occasional misstep. He had taken dance lessons in school and had learned how to do 'the swing', but he had never really had occasion to master it. "Okay, now lift your arm so I can go under...yes just like that," she encouraged him as she switched hands and swung out.

Just as they were getting the hang of it, the music changed to 'Some enchanted evening'. Martin stopped, then took her hand and led her in a slow dance. She started to sing along with the music.

_Some enchanted evening  
You may see a stranger,  
you may see a stranger  
Across a crowded room  
And somehow you know,  
You know even then  
That somewhere you'll see her  
Again and again._

She didn't remember all the words and continued humming along with the music_  
_

_Who can explain it?  
Who can tell you why?  
Fools give you reasons,  
Wise men never try._

.  
.

_Once you have found her,  
Never let her go.  
Once you have found her,  
Never let her go!_

They danced slowly, Martin holding her close and Louisa resting her head against his chest. As the song ended, Martin paused, then gazed into her face and told her, "You know, that happened to me."

Confused, Louisa looked at him, "What happened to you?"

He continued to hold her, his arms wrapped lightly around her waist, and quietly explained, trying to keep his voice even and calm. "One evening, I was in A&amp;E to attend a patient needing emergency surgery. It was crowded. As I made my way through the crowd, I looked and saw a stranger, a woman, across the room, and that night I dreamt about her, and ... I didn't know it then, but I would see her again ... and again." This song had made it so easy for him to tell her about his dream.

"And when did this happen?" She wasn't sure where he was going with this.

"The night before we met."

"Oh...was I the stranger?"

"Yes"

"And you dreamt about me? Before we met?"

"You were checking your friend in. I didn't remember until after we met the next day, but I did notice you and stopped for a moment to watch you. You were so lovely, but I had to tend to my patient so I left. But my subconscious didn't forget and I had a very vivid dream about you that night. The next day is when we met. I saw you looking for your friend's room, and I wanted to know the real you, so I offered to help. I never do that."

She felt herself blushing at his confession that he had found her so lovely that he dreamt about her before he had even met her. But then it registered that he had continued speaking and she needed to catch up. "You never do what?"

"Offer to help visitors find a room."

"You don't?"

"No...Too busy." "_And I don't care,"_ He thought to himself, hoping he wouldn't have to elaborate any further.

She led him to the sofa where they sat down. Martin felt this conversation was going much better than he could have ever hoped. He knew that she could have been horrified at his confession, seen him as some kind of pervert, but she seemed calm and interested, not at all wary. Feeling more confident, he put his arm around her and she snuggled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. "Martin, tell me about your dream."

"Uh...it was very complicated and strange. I had moved to Portwenn to work as the village GP." He moved his free hand to hold hers, nervously playing with her fingers and resting his cheek in her hair.

"What? You weren't a surgeon?"

"No. I had to give up surgery because I had developed a sensitivity to blood."

"How awful!"

"Yes it was. But I met you and we became involved. Eventually we had a son and got married."

"You mean we got married and had a son."

"No. We had a son and then got married when he was six months old or thereabouts. We had a very complicated relationship."

"Must have been. Then what happened."

"My haemophobia got worse and I developed insomnia; I wasn't able to make you happy, and you got hurt and I did surgery to make you better. Then we went through counselling and were happy. It felt real and I was quite surprised when I woke up and realized that it had been a dream. I was glad that I hadn't developed haemophobia and was still a surgeon, but I was sad that you and James weren't in my life."

"James was our son?"

"Yes."

"And this dream is the reason that you approached me in hospital?"

"Yes. Uh ... I hope you don't find that disturbing."

"No. Should I?"

"I don't know. I don't mean it to be."

"Hmm ... Perhaps I should, but I'm not. I'm glad you stopped to help me."

"Yes...me too."

They sat there in silence for a few minutes when suddenly Louisa jumped up and said, "I think I'm going to have some of that baklava. Do you want any?"

"No, thank you."

"I'll be right back." She headed into the kitchen, secretly smiling at Martin's revelation. It was so romantic, that someone would dream of her and then go out of his way to meet her. Well maybe not out of his way, but certainly way out of his comfort zone. She knew Martin well enough now to understand how uncomfortable he was meeting new people in a social setting. He was such an extraordinary man, and he sought her out. He made her feel so special, and she loved him for that. She definitely wanted to learn more about his dream.

In the meantime, Martin was sitting in the lounge convinced that he had completely put her off with his bizarre story, despite her assurances to the contrary. Was she thinking that he was some kind of perverted stalker, dreaming about her and then tracking her down? It wasn't like that at all; he had been intrigued that there was a real Louisa. He had to explain. He got up and slowly walked into the kitchen. "Is everything okay?"

She carefully put her plate with the baklava down on the table and beamed up at him. "Everything's wonderful, you old romantic you." She turned towards him and wrapped her arms around his middle, then tiptoed up to tenderly kiss him.

"You wanted to know why I was spending time with you and I needed to tell you about my dream, but I didn't know how. Uh...the words to that song just seemed to ...uh"

"Yes. I can see that. Now kiss me. We haven't had a proper snog since I got back." He obliged, but soon pulled back and looked over her shoulder. Louisa wasn't quite ready to let him go, "What...what's the matter?"

"Your baklava. Don't you want to finish it? Oh, and now the cat is licking it!" Martin stepped over to shoo Lizzie off the table.

Laughing she pulled him back to her side and chuckled, "It's okay. Forget the baklava. We've something much better to do." With that she loosened his tie, pulling it out from under his collar and undid the top buttons on his shirt. She placed her hands just above his belt and let them drift slowly and sensuously up his belly and chest. She slid her hands under his loosened shirt to stroke his shoulders and his bare neck, then pulled his head down and proceeded to kiss him hard and deep.

He had let his hands wander as well, down her back and further to caress her bottom, then pulled her to him as they both deepened the kiss. Martin had feared he would be cast out into the night after telling her his story; but now that he realised his story had had the opposite effect, he was more than happy to reap those benefits. Too bad he had to leave the village early the next morning.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

The memory of their last evening together had kept Louisa warm for the rest of the week. She would be working on some tedious administrative form and suddenly shiver with the memory of Martin's soft, skilled surgeon's hands on her back or caressing her breasts. They still had not made it upstairs. She had learned early that Martin was not one to prattle on and on, but she was able to piece together from his short comments here and there that he did desire her, very much, but he was concerned that his feelings for her might still be tangled up with his feelings for the Louisa of his dreams. Until he sorted that out, he didn't want to mislead her about his ability to commit to being with her for the long-term.

His concern for her feelings and hesitation to commit until he was certain that he wanted to pursue a long-term relationship reinforced her admiration of his character, his integrity. They really hadn't known each other very long and there were aspects of his personality that could be problematical, but he was straightforward and moral, and she had a sense that he was the one, the one with whom she would share the remainder of her life. He promised he would try to sort out his feelings while they were apart, and she was hopeful that they would consummate their relationship during her trip to London.

The anticipation of all that the London weekend could hold was making it difficult for her to concentrate on her work. She found herself floating in a dreamy daze for the entire week. Even Maura, who had come in to help the last two days of the week noticed. Louisa knew she needed to be more focused, at least during the school day, but it was difficult.

"Are you okay?" Maura eventually asked. "You don't seem yourself. Anything I can do to help?" Maura was fairly certain that it had something to do with a certain doctor, probably a certain surgeon, but it could also be a certain GP who was due back on Sunday. If she was lucky, Louisa might confide in her, or give her a hint. "No, I'm fine." Louisa replied absently.

Martin had called her on Wednesday evening just to let her know his trip back went well, but she had not talked with him since. Of course, he was working all day Thursday, and he wasn't one to talk endlessly on the phone, but still she needed to hear his voice. She called him Saturday night.

"Louisa?" He answered with that soft anticipation that was always present in his voice when she called. He had been thinking of her as well whenever he had a spare moment remembering the feel of her skin and her tender touch on his cheek or while stroking his back and shoulders, and her kisses ... oh, her kisses. When she called unexpectedly, he grew concerned. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, I just needed to hear your voice. I miss you."

"Yes... And I, you. Uh ... Were you able to complete all your work this past week?"

"Just about. I have a few bits and bobs to tie up tomorrow, but all should be ready for Monday morning when the teachers and students arrive for the new term. What about you? How have your last few days been?"

"Fine. Busy."

"I know you were on call New Year's day, but what about yesterday and today."

"I finished my research paper. I must submit it Monday. And I looked at your friend's clock. It's going to take more work than I had originally thought. Good thing I won't be back until February. It may take that long to get it running. I was working on it when you called as a matter of fact."

"But you think you can get it running?"

"Yes."

"Carrie will be so pleased. I'll let her know you are optimistic."

"Right."

"You are so kind to try to fix it for her. You really didn't have to offer."

"I enjoy the challenge...taking it apart and putting it right again." Martin had been working on clocks since he was a boy and was quite an expert on antique clocks. There were at least two in every room of his flat, several chiming on every hour. On the rare occasion when he allowed himself to hope that he and Louisa might marry and have children, he had thought those children would have to learn early on to give daddy's clocks a wide berth. He was always surprised when he found himself thinking of life should he and Louisa have children, imagining coming home each night to sounds of his wife and children's laughter. Just a few months ago it would never have crossed his mind and now he was seriously considering marriage and children. How did this happen? Was it all just the result of a glimpse of a woman one night in hospital?

"So tell me about your research paper." Louisa was curious about Martin's work. She knew he performed surgery and mentored aspiring surgeons, but he had other responsibilities of which she knew nothing.

"It's medical. You wouldn't understand."

"Noooo...But can't you explain it to me in layman's terms?"

"Um...uh...it's about the efficacy of a new stent procedure we developed and have been using this past year."

"You use stents to prop open blood vessels, right?"

"More or less."

"And is it effective...the new stent procedure?"

"Yes."

"See that wasn't so hard, was it. And I understood what you told me even though it was medical."

"Good."

She spent a few minutes telling him about the New Year's Eve party that Stefan and Alicia had hosted, and how one of their neighbours had fallen in their pool and almost drowned because of the cold. "Hypothermia," Martin commented, and then proceeded to explain how quickly someone could succumb to the cold especially when wet. "Even children playing out in the cold weather can develop hypothermia. I'll send you some information on how to recognise and treat it." In passing, he wondered out loud whether the GP had been there to take care of the neighbour. "No, he is returning tomorrow."

"Humph." Now Martin was free to worry about him regaining ground with Louisa. "I guess you will be glad to have him back in the village."

"Yes, the village will be glad their doctor is back; he really is a good doctor." She stifled a yawn. "I guess I should let you get back to your clock, or rather Carrie's clock. Call me next week when you have time...just to say hello...okay?"

"Yes, I will. When is the best time to call?

"Maybe in the evening, just before you go to bed? We could say goodnight."

"Yes. Good."


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

Louisa hadn't thought about Michael in nearly two weeks. She was uncertain how she felt about his coming back. She thought about their last evening together and blushed at the memory. He would undoubtedly return expecting to pick up right where they left off, but now after spending a week with Martin...well ... what did she want? She was certain that she was in love with Martin, but she was still quite fond of Michael. He was such fun, always good for a laugh, the complete opposite of Martin in that way. But Martin was special, so intelligent, so gifted, so dedicated, and so respected in his field. Michael was a good doctor, but she was certain that Michael would never rise to the heights that Martin already occupied. Michael found her attractive and never failed to tell her so; but he never looked at her with such obvious adoration the way Martin did, as if she were the most beautiful and desirable woman in the world. Martin was certainly attractive in a distinguished way, but Michael was breathtakingly handsome in a way that Martin would never be. Even so, Martin had a dignified and aristocratic manner about him that Michael would never attain, and she found that very attractive.

What did she want? She knew that she and Michael really didn't have a future unless he were willing to settle in England, but a future with Martin was still uncertain. She really had not spent enough time with him to know him well, and yes, she was in love with him, but did she actually love him? There was a difference. She admired and respected him, and the physical attraction between them was strong, but was that love? He had a reputation for being a difficult man. It was true that he could be blunt, almost to the point of being rude, but she also found him to be a gentle man, kind and thoughtful, at least when he was with her. And his friends seemed to think highly of him. She just needed more time with him. That was why she agreed to visit him in London.

In the meantime she had to decide one way or the other about Michael. She was very fond of him, but was she in love with him, had she ever been in love with him? She didn't remember feeling towards him the way she felt towards Martin, but she really did like him, a lot. Did that make sense? She wasn't sure. Her life was about to get complicated.

Michael had had a wonderful holiday visiting with his family and old school friends. It had just reinforced his desire to return home to New England once his contract was up. He had even made contact with several local physician practices to discuss the possibility of joining them when he returned in a year. With his practical experience as a lone village GP and with recommendations from Parsons, the PCT head and some of his fellow GPs with whom he met and consulted regularly, he had been assured that any practice would welcome him when he returned.

He had also confided in some of his friends about the beautiful Cornish woman he had fallen for and how he hoped to talk her into returning with him. On the plane back, he couldn't stop thinking of Louisa, of spending time with her and showing her pictures of his trip, hoping his enthusiasm would sway her to reconsider spending time with him in America. He had decided to surprise her and take her to dinner as soon as he returned to the village. The taxi from Bodmin station dropped him off at his cottage at half five, giving him a good hour to shower and change. Soon he was knocking on the door to Louisa's cottage with a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine for what he hoped would be a romantic conclusion to the evening.

"Michael!" Louisa was surprised to see him knowing that he had probably just arrived from his trip. "I wasn't expecting to see you this evening."

"I just got back and couldn't wait to see you." He rushed in the door and took her in his arms. "I missed you terribly", he whispered and kissed her with a passion she had never felt from him before, but which she didn't feel right in returning. She pulled back and smiled, replying a little more archly than she intended, "Well, it's nice to see you too. I'm just surprised."

"I thought I'd come over and take you to dinner." Holding out the flowers, he added, "beautiful flowers for the beautiful maiden."

"My goodness, you are ardent tonight. Come in whilst I put these in water and go get changed. Only take a minute."

When she came down the stairs, she found Michael sitting on the sofa flipping through the article Martin had sent her earlier in the day. "Since when are you interested in hypothermia?"

"One of Stefan and Alicia's guests fell into their pool New Year's Eve. The ambulance attendants said he was suffering from hypothermia, a drop in body temperature. So I thought I should find out more about it to see what we should do if one of the children should ever show signs of it."

"You could just call me. I'd take care of them."

"Yes, but if I don't know the signs, I might not think to call you. And what if you are away? Hmm?"

"Good point. I suppose it's always good to know what to look for." Looking up at her, he smiled thinking how she was a sight for travel weary eyes, "Ready? Pub okay?"

They made their way to the pub and sat down in a cosy corner booth. Louisa was certain she could feel the eyes of the regulars following her as she and Michael walked across the room and hear the whispers as they wondered just which doctor she would end up with. She knew she and Martin had been the focal point of last week's gossip, curtains parting whenever the two of them walked anywhere in the village; and now with Michael back and escorting her to the pub, tongues would be wagging even more loudly. That was the price she paid to live in a small village. It was sure to be only a matter of hours before Michael knew how many evenings she had spent with Martin while he was gone. At least no one could say he had spent the night, although it was likely that much speculation had taken place.

Michael was oblivious to the gossip passing around the pub. He only wanted to tell her about his trip and show her the pictures of his family and friends that he had stored on his laptop. He sat next to her in the booth, ostensibly to show her his pictures, but also to feel her close to him. He was determined to take her back to visit when he took a short break this summer, certain that a week spent on the water and sailing in the coves around Cape Cod and southern Maine would win her over. It wasn't until they were finishing their meal that he asked how her holiday had gone.

"The village dance went well. The decorations were beautiful and the food was fabulous as always. You should know that Jack Earley had a stroke, and we had to call an ambulance. Fortunately Martin was there to care for him before the ambulance arrived. He said Jack should regain most of his motor and speech functions after a few months of proper therapy."

This was news to Michael, not that Jack had had a stroke, no surprise there with his high cholesterol and high blood pressure, but the fact that Martin Ellingham was in the village. "Martin? Martin Ellingham? He was here for the village dance? Why was he here?"

"He brought his Aunt Ruth down from London to visit her sister for the holidays, and Joan insisted they both come to the party."

Michael could sense the defensiveness in her tone, and asked, "How long was he here? Did you see him any other time?"

"He left New Year's Eve, and yes, we had dinner while he was here, not that it's really any of your business." _ "No need to elaborate how many times we had dinner",_ she added to herself.

"But it is my business if you and I are together. I don't like him coming down here sniffing around my girl." Michael sensed that Martin was a rival for Louisa's affections and couldn't hide his jealousy.

"May I remind you that I am not your girl. I'm not anybody's girl. And I will have dinner and see whomever I please, thank you very much." Whoever thought it was flattering to have men fighting over you didn't know what they were talking about. She was not going to be anyone's prize. "I think it's time to call it a night. Thank you for dinner."

"Wait, wait, I don't want tonight to end this way. It's late and it's dark. Let me walk you home." He threw some notes down on the table and followed her out the door.

Louisa walked back to her cottage in silence, Michael struggling to keep up with her brisk pace. When they reached her door, she turned to him, "Michael, thank you for dinner. It was nice to see you, and I'm glad you had a good trip. Good night." She went in and closed the door. Michael was left standing there, confounded at how the evening, which had begun so well, could have veered so quickly out of control.

Just moments after she closed the door, her phone rang. It was Martin calling to wish her well at the start of her new term. She was comforted to hear his voice, but wished he had called a few minutes later so she could have recovered from her evening with Michael. She tried to cover up the frustration in her voice, but was obviously unsuccessful because Martin immediately sensed a problem and asked if she was okay. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Just a bit of a disagreement with one of the villagers, but it's over now."

"Seems a bit late to be meeting with a villager. Are you sure you're okay?"

How could he be so obtuse at times and then so perceptive when she needed him to be oblivious? She took a deep breath and then replied in as calm a tone as she could muster. "Yes. I'm fine now, now that I can talk with you. How was your day?"

"Good.

"Do anything special?"

"Not really. Had to go to hospital ... gas line explosion, several serious injuries needing surgery. Could have been much worse. Some idiot decided he could install his gas cooker as well as a professional and save some money, left for the day and then it exploded. There's a reason installers have to be Gas Safe registered. Idiot."

"How could a homeowner get away with doing the installation himself. Aren't there laws governing that type of thing?"

"Yes."

"Tragic."

"Yes." He paused for a moment, then added, "I must be off. I have several procedures scheduled early tomorrow. Good night." His words could have been cold and curt if not for the soft and tender note in his voice. Louisa loved the timbre of his voice and he could read her one of his BMJs if he wanted and she would be captivated.

"Yes, good night". She smiled warmly to herself as she set the phone in its cradle, and made her way slowly upstairs, all thoughts of her dinner with Michael gone from her mind, at least for the moment.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

Both Louisa and Michael had been busy at the beginning of the week, Louisa with the start of the new term and Michael catching up with all the patients who had put off tending to their problems until he had returned. Even though he was American, he was a popular doctor and the villagers were comfortable with him. Of course he had had to put up with the gossips telling him about Louisa spending time with Martin, but as she had already told him they had been to dinner and that Martin had been at the dance, he wasn't too concerned. Many of them did imply that Martin had spent several evenings at her cottage, but Michael had lived in the village long enough to know how these stories grew more elaborate with each and every telling.

Tuesday afternoon he had to attend the monthly PCT meeting. As they were gathering beforehand, some of the others were discussing the Parson's open house on Boxing Day and meeting with one of his old mates, a distinguished surgeon, Martin Ellingham. It was an opportunity seldom available to GP's working in the beautiful, but remote reaches of Cornwall. They went on and on about his brilliant mind and his insightful answers to many of the questions proffered till Michael thought he couldn't stand it any longer. Finally Parsons started the formal part of the meeting, and Michael, who usually enjoyed the camaraderie of socialising with his peers, finally relaxed.

Afterwards, as he was heading back out, Chris Parsons pulled him aside, "Umm, O'Leary, do you have a moment?"

"Certainly Chris. What is it?"

"Well, I was wondering if you know a Louisa Glasson?"

Michael was a little surprised at the question, but replied, "Yes, of course I know Louisa. She's the primary school head teacher, and we work together frequently monitoring the health of the school children. Why?"

"Well this is a bit awkward, but you see, a friend of mine, an old mate from medical school, brought her to our Boxing Day open house. She seems very nice, but, well ... you know how women are ... Michele, my wife, wanted me to find out if she is seeing anyone." By this point Chris had stuck his hands into his pockets and was rocking back and forth on his feet, nervously chuckling in an attempt to keep the conversation casual. He looked up at Michael, expectantly. "Do you know if she is seeing anyone?"

Michael, taken completely by surprise decided it was best if he not admit to his own interest in Louisa, but not wanting to lie to his boss, prevaricated by saying, "I think she may have been seeing someone, but I don't know if she is serious."

"Hmm," Chris ran his right hand over the top of his head and pushed his glasses further up his nose, "It's just that...well...I don't see it myself, but Michelle is worried that my mate might get hurt. She seems to think he is in love with her. Are you certain she's not serious about anyone?"

"I don't think so. You know how these small villages are. I would think I would have heard something about it over a pint in the pub, or from one of my patients. They are always anxious to let me know the latest gossip while I'm trying to examine them."

He had managed to put Parson's mind to rest, but his was in a turmoil. He was hurt that Louisa didn't tell him about the open house. Why didn't she tell him? As he thought about it more, he became angry; she should have known that he would see Parsons and that he might mention meeting her. She should have told him. By the time he had returned to the village, he was in a rage, and he headed straight to Louisa's cottage to have it out with her.

Louisa was preparing a light supper when she heard pounding at her door. Startled and somewhat wary, she walked quietly to the door and looked through the peephole. It was Michael; but why he was pounding on her door she had no idea. She slowly opened the door, "Michael, what is it?"

"Chris Parsons," he bellowed, as he stormed into the cottage.

"What?" She didn't understand what it was he was screaming about and she looked at him, her face a question mark.

"Chris Parsons! When were you going to tell me?" He was obviously furious.

"Tell you what?" She quickly closed the door, no need to give the nosy neighbours a show. Her mind raced wildly until the pieces suddenly came together; somehow Michael had found out about her visit with the Parsons on Boxing Day.

"You went to the Parsons' Boxing Day open house with Ellingham. Were you going to tell me? Or did you think it was better I heard it from my boss. You do remember that Chris Parsons is my boss, right?"

The shock of being the recipient of Michael's anger left her at a loss for words and it took her a moment before she realised exactly what it was he was ranting about. Louisa cast her eyes downward while she thought of the best way to respond to avoid escalating the argument. She had never seen him like this and it frightened her somewhat.

"So were you going to tell me? Do you realise what an awkward position I was in when he asked me if I knew you?"

Pulling herself together, she was able to reply calmly, "Yes, I did go to the Parsons' open house with Martin and we had a lovely time."

"We had lovely time?" He shouted back at her incredulously.

"Well, I had a lovely time. Chris' wife, Michelle is a teacher and she introduced me to many of her colleagues. It's always good to meet others who have to deal with the Cornwall council. And it was fun to listen to Martin and Chris and Michelle reminisce about their time in medical school."

"From what I heard, **Mister** Ellingham was spouting off medical 'bon mots' the whole time. Mr. Ellingham this and Mr. Ellingham that was all I heard at the PCT meeting this afternoon. I can't imagine when he had time to reminisce, as you put it." Michael huffed.

"Oh really, Michael. Stop being an arse. Yes, Martin was surrounded by all sorts of doctors most of the afternoon. I wasn't part of their conversations; I was too busy meeting lots of other interesting people. I was glad he asked me to join him; it was an opportunity to meet people I wouldn't otherwise have had an opportunity to know...and it was certainly more entertaining than sitting around the house making table centrepieces for the holiday party." She didn't really want to tell him that they had stayed several hours more after all the other guests had left.

"I just can't believe you didn't tell me when we had dinner Sunday. I feel like I don't even know you anymore."

"If you recall, you did most of the talking Sunday telling me about your holiday. I'm sure the Parsons' open house would have come up eventually. It didn't seem important."

"Didn't seem important? You going to my boss' open house is a big deal. You should have known that. And having my boss ask me if I knew you and if you were seeing anyone put me in a very awkward position." He had felt embarrassed and wanted to make sure she understood how difficult it had been.

"He wanted to know if I was seeing anyone? Why would he want to know that?" Louisa could accept the village gossiping about her. After all gossip was the main source of entertainment in a small village, but why was Chris asking around about her? She couldn't help wondering _"Did Martin ask Chris to check her out? That didn't really make sense as he only needed to ask Joan and she would have given him all the information he needed."_

"Evidently his wife is concerned you might be leading Martin on. I can't see why. It seems to me that he's such a big shot London surgeon, he can take care of himself...arrogant arse."

"Okay...enough of this conversation." She escorted him to the door. "I think it's time for you to go. Come back when you've calmed down."

Michael found himself on her front porch, still not satisfied with her answers. Parsons' wife thought Martin was in love with Louisa. He was certain that she was right; women could sense these things. He also sensed that Louisa's interest in Martin was more than just friendly. In any case she was obviously open to his attentions, and Michael really didn't know what to do about it.

A visit to the pub would be a good place to plan his strategy, so off he went. The news of his row with Louisa had already made the rounds of the village and the regulars greeted him with sympathy. "Mike, heard about your fight with the lovely Miss G. Come and have a pint and tell us all about it."

He settled in at the bar and took a drink, "Women. I'll never understand them"

All his mates couldn't agree more. "You can say that again." "Ain't that the truth" "Them's a different species, alright". On and on. They laughed and joked and he felt comforted. But in the back of his mind, he couldn't shake the sense of loss beginning to overtake him.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

Despite Louisa's efforts to keep their argument private, Michael's shouting could be heard clearly by both her next door neighbours. The few villagers who happened to be walking by heard the shouting and slowed their pace so they could hear his side of the row as well. Louisa had kept her voice low enough so that no one heard her side, but the local gossips were more than happy to fill in the gaps.

By the next morning, news of their fight had spread throughout the village all the way out to Joan Norton's farm and the coastal home of Stefan and Alicia. Alicia called Louisa immediately after hearing the news, offering a shoulder to cry on and a bottle of wine to wash away her troubles at dinner that night. Joan was a little more compassionate, waiting until the next night to call and ask Louisa over for dinner Friday night.

Louisa took both Alicia and Joan up on their offers. Stefan was away on business so it was just Louisa and Alicia at dinner Wednesday night. After they finished off two bottles of wine, Louisa decided she needed to spend the night rather than risk a drive home "under the influence". They laughed over the extreme scenarios the village gossips had come up with and then they talked about the merits of both Louisa's men. Alicia was of the opinion that Martin was far too staid and somber for a free spirit like Louisa. Michael was much more likely to make Louisa happy in the long run. She encouraged Louisa to push him to remain in Cornwall as the village GP and marry him so she could raise her family in Portwenn. She reminded Louisa that it was even more unlikely that Martin would agree to move to Portwenn, a fact to which Louisa reluctantly agreed.

But Louisa was not easily swayed. She agreed with Alicia that Martin was not a lively soul, but perhaps because of that, he had depths to his character that Michael might never have. She found Martin's gravitas comforting, knowing that she would always be able to depend on him. She was an extremely independent woman, more than capable of caring for herself, but she found that she loved the way that Martin cared for her, trying to anticipate what she needed and provide it. She wasn't sure that Michael would or could be as dependable. And she hinted to Alicia that she had seen passion in Martin that no one would ever guess was there. Of course, if thirty-two, almost thirty-three years of life experience had taught her nothing else, it was that a long-term relationship could never be built on physical attraction alone.

She promised Alicia that she wouldn't jump into a relationship with Martin before getting to know him better...in every way...and then they laughed. With the serious talk over, they went onto other topics, from who was shagging whom in the village to the latest funky fashions that neither of them would ever wear to their favourite musical groups. It was so much fun to have an old fashioned sleepover. Too bad she had to go to work the next morning!

Dinner with Joan was comforting as well. It was a reminder that Martin had deep ties to Portwenn and that he would always be willing to return for holidays, perhaps even more frequently if they had children. And Martin would have the means to maintain homes in both London and Portwenn. Joan was like a second mother or a close aunt, and she confided to Joan things that she might not tell another soul. Joan had a straightforward pragmatic approach to life, and Louisa found her opinions and advice extremely valuable.

She confided to Joan what the row with Michael was really about and the two of them also laughed at the extremes some of the gossips made. However, Joan made the point that Michael had good reason to be upset that Louisa had not told him about the Parsons' party. Although Louisa wasn't happy to have Joan take his side, she agreed in hindsight that she should have told Michael that she had gone to the Parsons' party with Martin, but she avoided telling him because she didn't want him to know just how much time she had actually spent with Martin over the holiday. She was discovering that Michael could be extremely jealous and she wanted to avoid his ire. She had forgotten that Chris was head of the PCT and that Michael would see him at their monthly meeting always held on the first Tuesday of every month.

Before he left, Martin had told Joan that Louisa was planning to visit him in London in a few weeks, and Joan asked Louisa if she had told Michael of this visit, and if not, when did she plan to tell him.

"No, I haven't told him yet, but I guess I must. He'll notice I'm not in the village and I'm sure the village grapevine will be full of it before the train leaves Bodmin station. He just might kill me if the village knows before he does. I guess I'll tell him just before I tell Maura that I'll be taking Friday afternoon and Monday morning off. It won't be pleasant, but it needs to be done. You're right."

"Good." Joan was concerned about Louisa and stared at her for a moment. "You don't have to answer, but have you thought about what you will do about Michael if you and Martin decide you aren't compatible? Or if you decide you are? You can't keep stringing him along forever."

"No. If I'm honest, I am confused by it all. I really like them both and I know I will have to choose eventually, but I'm just not ready. Alicia thinks I should stick with Michael; she thinks Martin is too staid for me and that I'd be much happier with Michael, and he really is such a lovely man, or he was until this jealous monster inside him emerged. And I'll admit that Martin is quite staid, perhaps even stuffy. But that's partly why I like him so; he's solid and dependable and I know he'd always be there for me. You're right; I need to think all of this through very carefully."

Louisa had one more thing she wanted to ask Joan, "Joan, does Martin know that I have been seeing Michael? I just don't understand why Chris Parsons was asking Michael if I was seeing anyone. Do you think Martin asked him to check up on me?"

"No, I doubt it. Martin knows that you have been seeing Michael. I even told him that the village wags had been certain that you were headed to the altar until he showed up."

"Oh. I guess I should have realised the village assumed we would marry. What do they know? How did Martin react to that news? I can tell he doesn't like Michael, but I was never sure why."

"He wasn't happy; I can tell you that. And he would probably have left you alone if I hadn't told him that you weren't sure there was a future with Michael because you didn't want to move to America. I hope you don't mind that I told him that."

'No. That's okay as long as you keep most of what we share in these talks to yourself."

"I'm the soul of discretion," Joan lied.

Louisa dropped by Michael's surgery Wednesday evening before her trip to London. They hadn't spent any quality time together since their big fight about the Parson's Boxing Day open house and he was hopeful that her visit portended reconciliation. He was delighted to see her and greeted her warmly, hugging her gently and giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Louisa; it's so good to see you. I'm sorry I was such an ass about the Parson's party. I've thought about it a lot, and I realise now that I should have been more understanding. I apologise."

Louisa was surprised and pleased at his greeting, and somewhat embarrassed, given the nature of her call. "Apology accepted. And I apologise for not telling you about it. I should have remembered that Chris was your boss and that he might mention it. Sorry."

"So. Are we all better now? Want to go get some dinner, maybe make some plans for the weekend. I hear there's a great new band at that club up in Tintagel; we could check it out."

"Um. Yeah, about this weekend. That's what I'm here about actually." She paused. Michael was being so sweet that he was making this much harder than she had imagined. "Um ... I'm ... uh ... going up to London for the weekend."

"Oh. What's up? Need someone to join you?" He hadn't caught the hesitation in her voice and thought perhaps she was going to ask him to spend the weekend with her as a peace offering.

She looked pained, and then added, "No. I'm going to visit Martin."

He pulled away from her, "You're kidding me, right?"

She shook her head, "No. I'm leaving Friday at noon and coming back early Monday."

Suddenly he realised what she was telling him, and he snipped, "I'm surprised you didn't go there to be with him over the holidays."

"Martin did ask me to go for the New Year celebrations, but I couldn't. I had too much work to do."

He walked over to his desk, putting some distance between them and added snidely, "Ah. You use that excuse with all your suitors, do you?"

"Michael, don't be sarcastic. Except for the party New Year's Eve at Alicia's, I worked hard that entire week. It's also one of the real reasons I couldn't go with you to America.

"Right, and here I was thinking you had come over to make peace after our terrible argument."

"I do want to make peace, and I thought you should know about my trip before I made arrangements to take Friday afternoon off. There are no secrets in this village and I didn't want you to be caught unawares."

"Isn't that sweet of you? Thanks for the favour. Just don't expect me to be here waiting with open arms when that jerk drops you like a hot potato once he tires of you, because he will. He has a terrible reputation, you know."

"So you keep telling me."

He started yelling, shooing her toward the door. "Just go. Go. Have a good trip."

Exasperated, Louisa turned to leave. As she reached the door she turned around and gazed at him sadly. "Michael?" He was still glaring at her and didn't respond. She shook her head slightly, then tenderly whispered, "Take care."


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

Martin stood waiting at the end of the platform where Louisa's train was due to arrive at any moment. It was the beginning of the evening's rush and the station was packed. Fridays were always the worst at Paddington. There were of course the usual commuters heading home after a long workday, but on Fridays there were also the weekenders headed out for a brief respite in the west country. Even in the middle of January, there were crowds of them with weekend bags jostling to catch the train to take them out, away from the hustle of the city.

Being taller than average did have its benefits, and as he watched the passengers alight from the train, he spotted Louisa descend the train and head his way. He moved to meet her, his lips curving upward ever so slightly at the sight of her. He raised his hand to catch her eye and she saw him, smiling gloriously in recognition. They met up halfway down the platform where they stopped to greet each other. "Louisa" Martin sighed and gazed down at her hardly believing she had actually come to spend the weekend with him.

"Martin". She smiled back up at him into his gentle eyes, happy to see him and grateful to have him to guide her out of the station.

He reached out as if to hug her, grazed her arm and then thought better of it there amongst the hoards. Instead he leaned over, "Let me take your bag. The taxi rank is just this way. We can take a cab to my flat where you can get settled before dinner. I made reservations for half six so you will have a little time to freshen up after your journey."

It was a short ride to Martin's flat and they rode quietly but happily. Louisa slipped her hand into his, and he glanced over and gave hers a slight squeeze. Although she was tempted to engage him in conversation, she understood that he was uncomfortable discussing their affairs while in the taxi. Most drivers have heard and seen it all, but Martin preferred to keep his privacy.

They pulled up to a lovely older building and Martin inserted his key and opened the door. The porter greeted him enthusiastically, "Evening Mr. Ellingham. How are you today?"

Martin nodded in recognition, "Well." He gestured toward Louisa, "Mylow, this is Miss Glasson. She will be visiting this weekend."

Mylow was surprised to see such a lovely woman with Mr. Ellingham; he rarely had visitors and even more rarely were they beautiful women. But he was a professional and kept his surprise to himself, smiling cordially and giving Louisa a slight bow in recognition. "Welcome Miss Glasson, Call me Mark. If I can help you with anything during your visit, don't hesitate to ask. Enjoy your visit."

Louisa was surprised to receive such a cordial welcome from him. Her experience with building attendants had never been pleasant and she responded, "Nice to meet you as well Mark."

"Right" Martin muttered. "We'd better get upstairs and get settled. Don't want to be late for dinner."

The lift opened onto a lovely wide hall landing on the sixth floor where there were doors leading to four flats. Martin went to a far door and opened it, motioning for Louisa to enter. He flipped a switch lighting the foyer and salon. He took her heavy winter coat and hung it up and then removed his own and hung it as well. "This way, Louisa. I'll put your bag in the guest room and leave you to freshen up."

Louisa followed him slowly into the flat letting her eyes wander from wall to wall, trying to get a glimpse of his home. At first glance it was very spare, neat and tidy, just like the man. Once in the spare room, he turned around to show her the wardrobe and the location of the en-suite and noticed her lagging behind. "Louisa?"

"Oh, coming, coming. Just having a quick look around." She scampered to catch up.

"I want to show you where everything is."

"That's nice, but I want to greet you properly now that we are alone." He was dressed in one of his usual dark suits, looking distinguished and elegant and irresistible. She laid her hands on his suit front and looking up kissed him tenderly on the lips.

"Yes...umm ...yes", he answered, briefly flustered before regaining his composure and returning the kiss. She circled her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss and he gently placed his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. They both could have stayed there all night, but that wasn't prudent. Martin was hungry; he knew he would get surly if he didn't eat on time so he pulled away, "Louisa, we really do need to dine this evening. The restaurant is just a short walk away, but we must leave by 6:15 to arrive on time.

"Right. I'm famished. I don't know why travelling makes me so hungry. All you do is sit on the train, but I could eat a horse."

"I don't believe they serve horse at _Sabine's_. Perhaps another time."

She gave him a wry smile and a swat on the arm. "I'll just be a few minutes Mr. Smarty Pants. Shoo."

He made his way to his own room to ensure all was in order before they headed out. He had given his housekeeper special instructions this week, and she had cleaned the guest room that doubled as his study from top to bottom, put fresh crisp sheets on the bed and new towels in the en-suite bathroom. By the time he went to bed Thursday night, he was certain that the flat was as welcoming as possible with flowers on the dining room table and in the guest room. He wanted Louisa to be comfortable while she was here.

It was a cold January night and Martin was pleased to notice that Louisa was wearing the scarf he had given her for Christmas. He knew it would help to keep her warm. They made their way to the restaurant, another one of Martin's hidden gems, a small trattoria specializing in northern Italian cuisine tucked in between two small homey hotels. "I thought comfort food on a night like this would be welcome. They use fresh ingredients and very healthy preparation techniques; any dish you select should be satisfactory. Plus they have the highest hygiene rating."

The staff greeted Martin by name just as they had the first time she had dined with him in London, and she thought to herself how far they had come since then. Once they had settled themselves and given the waiter their drinks order, she commented to him, "Do you come here often? They seemed to recognise you."

"Maybe once a month. I don't eat out often, but when I find a place that serves excellent cuisine, I try to patronise them, and I will bring the occasional colleague along."

"Just like the restaurant you took me to when we first met."

"Yes."

"I was just thinking back to that dinner. I wasn't sure if I would ever see you again. I'm glad you came down to Cornwall last autumn."

"I wasn't going to. I had decided that someone like you couldn't possibly be interested in me, an old funny looking set in his ways bachelor."

"But you did... And you're not funny looking. I think you are very handsome, so sophisticated and distinguished."

"Right." He tucked his chin down and glanced at the menu.

"You are." She reached over and took his hand.

"Hmm. Yes ... well." He gazed back at her and returned to the subject at hand. "Joan caught me off guard, calling me wanting to know when I was coming."

"Glad she did. Of course that first day I was ready to send you back to Joan when you started yelling at Maura about the footballers and calling her an idiot. But I had offered to show you round the village and ... well... I don't go back on my word so I decided I could just soldier on for Joan's sake. But then you apologised and explained yourself and asked me for help and I decided that maybe you weren't so bad."

"I'm glad."

"Me too"

The waiter came by asking if they had any questions about the menu and if they were ready to order. "Give us a few more minutes, will you?" Martin had already made his selection, but he didn't think Louisa had actually looked at the menu since they arrived.

"I know you said everything on the menu is good, but do you have any suggestions? Have you decided yet?"

"As I said, you really can't go wrong with anything on the menu." He then proceeded to suggest several items that he had tried in the past.

They all sounded good to Louisa and then she had an idea, "Why don't we share. Order several items that we can both try. It could be fun."

"Yes. Good idea."

They ordered a salad to share and a grilled radicchio appetiser. Louisa wanted to try the shrimp risotto and, despite his general aversion to red meat, Martin was intrigued with the beef carbonade served with polenta and mushrooms. They decided to wait to order dessert. Somehow they didn't think they would be hungry.

By the end of the meal they were both full, happy with their choices. Martin had happily listened to Louisa describing the beginning of term as she laughed at some of the crazy antics of the new students. She tried to get him to talk about his first weeks back from holiday, but Martin didn't have much to say, just routine surgery and office visits. "Do you not have interesting or eccentric patients that make you laugh, or unusual problems that are challenging? How can it always be routine?"

"Well there are occasional patients or accident victims with unusual presentations, but I can't discuss individual patients...confidentiality issues."

"Oh...too bad."

"Shall we go?" he asked motioning to the waiter for their check.

"Yes. I'm just going to run to the ladies for a minute while you settle up." She rose and headed to the lavatory, but not before brushing his cheek with a kiss, causing him to blush, just as the waiter handed him the bill.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

They had a pleasant walk back to Martin's flat. The weather had turned even colder and there was a light snow falling, but it was a short walk and to Louisa, it felt romantic. On the other hand, Martin was worried that she might catch a chill; he knew it was irrational, that being cold did not cause a person to catch cold, but he worried about her. She put her arm through his and raised her face to catch the snow on her tongue, laughing. Her joy was contagious and, despite himself, Martin found himself softly chuckling and smiling along with her. As they reached his building, he pulled her inside, shaking the snow off his coat and brushing hers as well. Martin noticed the night porter was on duty and despite his disdain for the man, he knew the protocol was to introduce visitors to him so he could maintain the security of the building without inconveniencing the tenants' guests. "Penhale, this is Miss Glasson. She will be staying with me this weekend."

Penhale always enjoyed the sight of a beautiful woman and his face lit up when Martin introduced her. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" He leaned back and checked her out letting his eyes roam slowly over her face and figure and nodding approvingly. "Yes, Miss Glasson, you are a breath of fresh air on this cold winter night. Welcome to our building. Anything I can do for you, anything at all, you be sure to call on Joe."

Louisa gave him one of her lovely smiles, but Martin couldn't stand the way Penhale leered at her. "That's enough Penhale. Good night". Martin hurried them along, muttering under his breath, "Idiot."

"Mr. Ellingham?" Joe called after them. When Martin turned around, Joe grinned, winked and gave him a thumbs up sign.

"Oh God," Martin groaned as he turned back to the elevator. The man was a complete moron, but door security was not an easy position to fill, especially the night guard. Imbecile that he was, he did "do the job to the best of his abilities" as he always liked to point out, and he was attentive to the comings and goings of the residents. There was a reason he had portrayed Penhale as a dimwit in his dream. Thank God Mylow was more professional.

"What's wrong?" As they rode the elevator to his floor, Louisa could tell Martin was upset. True Joe was a bit of a buffoon, but she knew how to deal with his type.

"Nothing."

"It was Joe, right? Don't let him bother you."

"He was ogling you; it was totally inappropriate."

"Well, let's not let him ruin our wonderful evening. After all we don't have that much time this weekend."

Martin let them into his flat. He hung both of their coats and scarves in the cupboard in the foyer. He fished around in his jacket pocket and pulled out a key and handed it to Louisa. "Here...for you. Would you like some tea?"

Louisa wasn't sure what the key was for. "Yes, tea would be lovely. Umm...this key?"

"It's a key to the flat. I want you to have it in case I get called out unexpectedly. You can also use it in future if you come to visit again just in case I can't meet you when you arrive." He put the kettle on and started to pull some teacups from the cupboard.

"Is this your way of inviting me to visit more often?"

"Um...uh... It is something we should discuss. Would you like to come more often? "

"Probably. Do we need to discuss it tonight?"

"No. No. It's just that I've been thinking. When I was in Portwenn, you expressed frustration that we couldn't get to know each other well with me in London and you in Cornwall. If we really want to uh...try to ... um ... become better acquainted, you are right; we have to make the effort to spend more time together. I can spend a weekend in Portwenn every month or so. In fact, I should, at least until the work on my aunt's house is finished. Maybe you could spend a weekend here in London every month or so?"

He handed her a cup and saucer and they walked into the lounge to sit together on the sofa. She was thrilled to realise that he had been seriously thinking about how they could be together and she added, "Yes, I could. Even with that, it's not much time, is it...one or two weekends a month." She took a sip of her tea.

"No, it's not."

"I guess it's all we've got right now."

"Yes." He looked softly into her eyes. "I think we should make the most of it." He put his cup down on the side table, then took hers from her hands and set it aside. She gazed at him expectantly as he turned toward her and took her face into his hands and kissed her gently on the lips. "Oh, Louisa." He murmured.

She returned the gentle kiss and smiled at him, "Yes, you're right." He needed no more encouragement and pulled her to him and kissed her more deeply.

As they paused for air, she pulled away and looking down started to unbutton his jacket, then loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. "Martin, you do not need to wear your jacket when you are at home."

"No," and he slipped his jacket off and laid it carefully over the back of a side chair.

As he sat back down, he said, "Um...I told you what drew me to you and why I want to spend time with you, but you haven't told me what you see in me. I know that I can be a difficult man, hard to talk to ... sometimes even rude. It's hard for me to understand why you would want to be with me."

She looked at him steadily with a wide grin and said, "Ah ... where to begin? Well, the basics. You are a single man, and you are heterosexual...although I haven't had a chance to completely verify that."

"Of course I am," he replied gruffly.

Her eyes lit up and her grin grew even wider. "Umm...We'll have to explore that later. Okay well we've established that you are a single heterosexual man. You are also incredibly attractive."

He rolled his eyes, "Hmmph"

"You are. I meant what I said at dinner. You are very handsome, perhaps not in a conventional way, but you are so tall and distinguished and elegant...very attractive. Do you remember the first time you took me to dinner...last summer just after we met?"

"Yes?"

"I was looking for you and you were standing by the door and you signalled to me. I couldn't believe I was going out to dinner with you. Oh my; I still remember it. All I could think was that I hoped you weren't married with six kids."

"What? Why would you think that?"

"Something Holly said when I told her about you. She said you were probably married with six kids." She reached over and picked up her cup from the table where Martin had placed it and took another sip. "But you weren't."

"No"

She almost shared the most important reason, but then thought better of it, fearing it might scare him off even if it were true, "_you seem to want the same things that I do, children...a family. That's important._"

She continued aloud, "Then there are other things, things much harder to articulate. I admire you, your intelligence, your compassion, your dedication to your work, how everyone looks up to you. Your concern for Joan tells me so much; not many men would take the time to care for an elderly aunt. I enjoy your company, especially when we are in the kitchen; it's fun to work together to plan meals and prepare them. And ..._ I can't tell him how his steady presence makes me feel safe..._ I like the way you look at me when you think I don't notice, and I like the way you look after me...and I like the way you kiss me. Is that enough of an answer for now?"

"Yes". He sat back on the couch, more relaxed than he had felt all evening and even smiled. He slid his arm close around her and grinned. "Now, you mentioned something you wanted to explore?"

She laughed. "You cheeky man. What am I going to do with you?"

"I can think of a number of things. Would you like me to make a list?" This flirting was fun, something he hadn't done in ages, not that he'd ever indulged much before.

She pulled back and looked at him suspiciously. "Who are you? And what have you done with my Martin?"

"What...what do you mean?" It took him a moment to realize she was teasing him. "Your Martin is right here." "_God, I sound like that mad Dr. Dibbs' husband_," he thought to himself and shuddered.

Louisa felt the shudder and looked at him concerned, "are you okay?"

"Fine, couldn't be better."

"Sure?"

He took her in his arms and kissed her, then caressing her cheek with his fingertips, he said, "I'm very sure." Then kissed her again more deeply.

"Martin?

"Yes?"

"Perhaps we should retire early."

'Mmmm." He nuzzled her neck, then kissed her again and said, "Yes ... but" He wasn't sure how to articulate what he knew they needed to go over. "_Best to just say it and get it over with._" "There is one more thing we need to discuss."

Sensing where he was going with this, she quickly blurted, 'No need. I had my annual doctor's visit right before the holidays, and I started the pill two weeks ago."

He was pleasantly surprised, "Good ... But." He continued on using his professional doctor's voice. "Neither of us is uh ... without experience, and there are other just as practical reasons for using a condom."

"Are you implying that I might have something contagious?"

"Nooo ... but as a medical professional, it is my duty to be certain that we are both free from any STD's. In the past, when the occasion has demanded, I have always used condoms and I get tested for blood borne infections on a periodic basis because I am exposed to so much blood in my work, so I am fairly certain that I do not carry any pathogens. But you indicated that your ex was unfaithful; he could have exposed you to who knows what."

"And my Martin's back." Her voice had a decided tone of disappointment to it. "Well, my doctor wouldn't give me a prescription for the pill without examining me and testing me for STD' s. I told her it wasn't necessary, but she insisted ... and all the tests came back negative if you must know. Would you like me to send you a copy of her report?"

He started to reply, "no, that won't be necessary," but she got up and took their cups into the kitchen. She knew it was important to have the "safe sex" talk with someone before you became intimate, so it was unreasonable for her to feel so upset at his bringing up the subject, but she was upset. The evening had been perfect, so romantic, but now ...

"Louisa," he cried following her to the kitchen. "Please don't be angry. We want to ..ah...um... be certain that we are able to ...uh ... um ... enjoy each other without worrying about an STD."

"I'm not angry, and I know we had to have 'the talk', but it just ruined the moment."

"_Ruined the moment'_ More images from his dream filled his mind, images of that mad woman burning a badger in her garden. Martin felt another shudder rumble through his body. Fortunately Louisa didn't notice this time for she was rinsing the cups to put them into the dishwasher. "Ah yes." He stood there uncertain how to proceed.

She finished cleaning up and looked down, and then stepped back from the sink. "It's been a very long day, and actually I am pretty tired. It was right for you to make sure we were ready for the next step and I know I overreacted. I want this as much as I think you do, but ... it's a big step, isn't it, and a little bit scary? Perhaps we should get some sleep, and see what tomorrow brings. Okay?" She looked up at him with a gentle smile on her face, her eyes pleading for understanding, and stroked his cheek.

He couldn't hide the disappointment he felt, but he concurred, "Yes, perhaps that would be best."

She gave him a gentle kiss on the lips and whispered, "Good night."

"Yes. Good night."

**To all those who have left reviews over these past months, a big thank you. They have helped me plow on when I get discouraged. I sometimes wish I could respond to each and every one of you, especially those of you who offer some thoughtful insight or perspective that hadn't occurred to me. And a late, but heartfelt Happy Mother's Day to all readers who are mother's or who care for children in any way, for they are our future. **


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

He watched her walk out of the kitchen and into the hallway between the two bedrooms. This was not how he had envisioned the evening ending. They were supposed to spend the entire weekend together, the nights as well as the days. He was ready to commit to her and he thought she was ready as well.

Just as he had promised, he had thought long and hard about his feelings for her and whether he really wanted her or a replay of his dream. He wasn't a man to rush to conclusions. He thought about the events that led to his dream, the family of Mrs. Smithson, seeing Louisa in A&amp;E that evening and then again the next morning.

He was accustomed to meeting with families of his patients, and it was not unusual for them to be worried, but Mrs. Smithson's family was particularly agitated. Her condition wasn't grave, but he was unable to ease their concern. Her two children, who appeared to be in their late teens were each holding onto her hands, and her daughter was crying silently while Mrs. Smithson herself tried to reassure them both that all would be well. Her husband's anxiety was palpable, as he was shaking visibly with worry contorting his features. He insisted Martin speak with him in the hallway outside the ward and describe every aspect of the procedure at length. "It's just that I, no we, couldn't bear to lose her, you understand," he pleaded with Martin as he wiped a tear away from his eyes.

He had asked the family to wait outside while he did some final checks for the evening, noting that all seemed in order for the procedure the following morning. Mrs. Smithson herself tried to explain, "Please forgive my George, Mr. Ellingham. We were older when we found each other, and I fear that he would be lost without me, just as I would be without him. His fear affects the children. I know you have told me my condition is easily repaired, but that doesn't soothe their fears."

Despite frequent meetings with his patients' families, Martin had never really considered his patients' personal lives, whether a patient had a wife or husband or children, how their condition affected their families who loved and cared for them, or how his work kept those families together. He remembered wondering as he left Mrs. Smithson's ward what it would be like to have a family that he cared for so deeply that he would be lost without them or who cared for him the same way. For some reason, that evening, he was unsettled by their concern. Perhaps the expression of their love for each other that he had just witnessed stirred a deeply repressed longing to experience a happy family life, something he didn't have as a child and that he had convinced himself that he didn't need.

Later that evening when he saw Louisa in A&amp;E, his heart lurched. He briefly thought how life would be if he had a wife like her who loved him like Mrs. Smithson loved her husband. As he was leaving, he must have heard her explain to reception her position as a teacher in Portwenn, Cornwall. He didn't remember hearing that, but how else to explain his subconscious connecting her to the village where he spent his childhood summers.

Now he had to determine whether he was trying to recreate his dream life. He had decided that his dream was merely a reflection of the longing that he had to have a family. It was merely a coincidence that he had met Louisa after dreaming of someone who resembled her the night before, a wonderful coincidence, and he realized that he was lucky to have found an intelligent, accomplished woman like her whose company he really enjoyed and who, it appeared enjoyed being with him. He was ready to make a serious attempt to forge a long-term relationship with her, and her recital this evening of all the ways she found him attractive reassured him that she really did care for him.

He had to admit to himself that he was disappointed that their romantic activities ended so early in the evening. The physical side of their relationship would come in time, perhaps this weekend, perhaps not. Either way, he was just happy to have her here. He retired to his room alone and prepared for bed, thinking that it was good they had confirmed that they were both healthy.

Louisa found that she really was exhausted. She had been so excited about this trip that she had barely slept for the past several nights. That plus the extra hours she had to work to make this weekend possible had finally caught up with her. She prepared herself for bed then slipped under the covers and turned off the light. The bed was incredibly comfortable, but she couldn't get to sleep. What was she doing here in Martin's spare room? She knew he wanted her and she wanted him, but it had been such a long time since she had been intimate with anyone. What if she couldn't please him? Was that what this was all about, or was it something more, the same thing that had kept her from accepting Michael's advances.

No, her feelings for Martin ran much deeper; unless he did something totally out of character, she was certain that she wanted to spend her life with him. Even his turning a romantic evening into a lecture about sexually transmitted disease testing couldn't put her off him; he was just being himself, concerned for them both; didn't she just tell him how his dedication to his work, to medicine, was one of the things that she admired? She knew she would be willing to move here to London to be with him. She might have been able to settle with Michael if he had been willing to stay in Portwenn, but her love for him wasn't strong enough for her to leave her home and move to America to be with him. She realized that now and vowed to tell him when she returned.

As she tossed and turned, punching the pillow and trying to settle, she muttered to herself, "This is ridiculous." She got out of the bed, put on her dressing gown and tied the sash. She hugged herself, briefly stroking the silky smoothness of her dressing gown gathering courage to walk across the hall. She tiptoed to the door, opened it slightly and saw that the light was still on in Martin's room. She took a deep breath, silently stepped across the hall and tapped lightly on the door.

Martin had noticed that Louisa's light had gone out more than fifteen minutes prior and he was surprised to hear her knock on his door. He put down the BMJ he was trying to read, rose and opened the door. "Louisa, is something wrong? Are you alright?" He pressed the back of his fingers against her forehead to check for indications of a fever.

She shook his hand away and looked up at him, "I'm fine Martin. It's just that … well, I couldn't sleep and I thought how silly it was …." She looked over in the direction of his bed and noticed the open BMJ on the nightstand. "Oh, you're reading. I'm sorry I interrupted; I'll just go back."

He grabbed her hand as she started to turn toward the door. "No. Stay."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

They stood there, stiffly, staring at each other, not certain how to proceed. He still held her hand, fearful that she might change her mind again.

"You could stay the night ... if you'd like," he whispered, barely audible, fearful she would decline.

She dropped her head and whispered back, "Yes, yes. I'd like that … very much."

"Good." For several moments neither of them moved, again uncertain how to proceed, until he motioned toward the bed, "Which side of the bed would you prefer?"

"It doesn't matter." She looked at the bed, so very masculine with navy sheets and a dark brown duvet. It appeared he had been sitting on the side close to where they were standing so she observed, "It looks as though you prefer this side here near the door. I'll go around, shall I?" She sighed to herself, " _Why doesn't he just take me in his arms and carry me to the bed?" _ Quickly she chastised herself, _"You're not in a romance novel girl. Be happy he's so considerate." _ And she stifled a giggle.

Martin noticed that she raised her hand to cover her mouth as she shrugged her shoulders, and thinking it was a hiccup, offered, "Do you need a glass of water?"

"What? No. I'm fine, thank you." She lowered her hand brushing it against her side. She took a step closer to him and reached up to caress his cheek and murmured somewhat plaintively, "Martin?"

He had taken her other hand in his, but took no further action toward the bed or her. "Mmm?" He smiled at her quizzically tilting his head to the side; he wasn't stalling so much as relishing the fact that she was here about to spend the night with him in his bed. There wasn't any reason to hurry; they had all night.

She moved her free hand around to the back of his neck and pulled him down for a long lingering kiss. As her kiss became more fervent, she wrapped one of her legs around his so he cupped his hands around her bottom and pulled her tightly to him. Suddenly he pushed her away. "No. No, this won't do." He looked down and pulled on the sash securing her dressing gown and with one swift action removed it and laid it over a chair nearby. He turned back to her and continued gazing at her, savoring every moment of this, their first time together.

Louisa cocked her head to the side, enjoying the obvious signs of lust that she was generating in his eyes, but also curious as to why he was so restrained now that they were so close. She placed her hands on his vest and trailed her fingers up to the base of his neck over his shoulders and then down over his chest to his stomach and back up again pressing her hands deep against the muscles of his torso. Finally she looked up at him, stood on the tips of her toes and whispered in his ear, "Martin? Are you going to take me to bed, or what?"

"Mmm …" It was a grunt of anticipation finally realized. He tenderly brushed strands of her long hair back off her shoulders and took her face in his hands. He kissed her gently, then slipped his fingers under the straps of her gown and slid them off her shoulders letting the gown drop to the floor. Once again he gasped, "Oh, Louisa" as he let his hands wander, fondling her breasts and teasing her nipples with his thumbs, working his way down to her womanly bottom, reveling in the softness of her bare skin, while she rose up higher to meet him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders till her feet were barely touching the floor. At last he picked her up and gently laid her on the bed. He pulled his vest over his head and threw it on the chair, slipped into the bed next to her and turned off the light.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

The next morning, Louisa awoke to the scent of freshly brewed coffee. She stretched and contentedly wriggled herself deeper into Martin's sheets, rolling over to his side of the bed to breathe in his scent. She felt blissfully happy. The only thing that would have made her happier would be to have him lying beside her. Their lovemaking the night before was more satisfying, both emotionally and physically, than she could have possibly hoped. He was a slow and sensuous lover and she responded with an equally generous passion of her own so that when they finally joined together it was a union not just of bodies but also of souls. He had wanted to wait until they were good friends, more than good friends, before taking her to bed, and the wait had made it even more thrilling if that were possible. Maybe she could talk him back into bed after breakfast.

She got up and gathered her dressing gown from off the chair next to the bed where Martin had put it the night before when he had so masterfully stripped it off. Her nightdress was lying next to it; Martin must have picked it up and placed it there this morning for he certainly didn't concern himself with it once he'd slipped it off last night. A shiver ran through her body as she remembered his touch, the sensation of his hands as they explored and caressed every part of her body. She definitely needed to lure him back into bed.

She quickly donned her dressing gown and sneaked over to the guest room where her toiletries were in the en-suite bathroom to perform her morning ablutions. When she was satisfied that she looked her morning best, she wandered into the kitchen. He was standing at the counter in his dressing gown preparing what looked like a nutritious breakfast. The table was laid with a fresh cloth and a pretty little bouquet of flowers sat in the center. There were bowls of fresh fruit at each place, along with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. _"I know everyone is on their best behaviour at the beginning of a relationship, but I could get used to even half of this"_

He was busy putting some eggs in a pan to boil when she came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle. Before she could even say "good morning", he startled and jumped away from her, rattling the eggs in the pan. "What are you doing?" he said in a tone that was probably louder than necessary

"I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to give you a good morning hug."

"Yes ..." He tucked his chin into his neck and with a look of concentration replaced the eggs on the hob before turning around to greet her, "Good morning." He pecked her on the cheek. "I'm sorry I shouted at you. I didn't hear you get up ... Did you sleep well?"

"You know I did. You were up early."

"Yes, I always rise early. I find it best to keep regular hours, although we were up a bit later last night than is usual for me."

"Is that a problem?" She teased, certain that he had enjoyed the evening's activities as much as she had.

"Nooo..." He gave her a shy smile. "A repeat tonight would be nice."

'Yes, I think that can be arranged. Actually I was hoping we could schedule a repeat this morning ... maybe after breakfast?"

They had been standing a few feet from each other by the sink, but now he reached over and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers and broadened his smile. "Yes. Good." He had also been thinking about the night before, how surprised he had been when she knocked on his door and the joy he felt when she agreed to spend the night. And her loveliness when he slipped the gown off her shoulders and she stood before him waiting for him to take her in his arms, he was certain he would never forget that moment.

He had set a slow pace to their lovemaking, wanting it to last as long as possible and her responses were equally sensuous. When he woke this morning, he spooned up next to her wrapping his arm around her to pull her to him and she sighed in contentment, but didn't wake. He had longed to stroke her hips and thighs, cup his hands around her lush bottom, linger over her breasts and burrow his lips into her neck, but he let her sleep. There would be time for that later. Instead he rose and started to prepare their breakfast; he would pamper her so that she would want to return to his home again and again and finally make it her home as well.

She took his hand in hers and kissed the tips of his fingers, those same fingers that had sent chills up and down her body last night. "I'm looking forward to it. In the meantime, can I help with anything here? Pour the coffee? Make some toast?" His face had taken on that soft look that melted her heart. _"How can he go from abrupt to loving in so short a time? Of course I did startle him. Better be careful next time."_

'No everything is in hand. Just take a seat."

She walked over to the table and pulled out a chair, but changed her mind as she looked around the living area. She wandered over to the windows in the lounge that overlooked the park. It wasn't a large park, but it was meticulously landscaped with a small fountain in the middle with tree lined brick paths leading from the corners to the fountain and benches every few yards for relaxing and enjoying the flower beds. There were pansies and other winter annuals planted in the beds and even though they had shrunk in response to the cold and had retreated under the light dusting of snow from the night before, flashes of color could be seen sparkling out here and there. "You have a lovely view from up here. The park is beautiful even in the dead of winter. It must be spectacular in the spring and summer when the beds are full of flowers. Could we walk there later today?"

"Yes, if you would like"

She turned her attention to furnishings in the room. There were quite a number of pictures on the walls, mostly of landscapes with a few technical sketches in pen, and there was an odd assortment of figurines and sculpture. She noticed a number of various oriental objets d'art on the shelves amid his medical texts as well as a number of Buddhas, which surprised her. "_I wonder if Martin practices Buddhism. I would never have suspected that."_ Then she saw several pieces of ornamental glassware. Pointing to them, she asked Martin, "Are these the pieces of Venetian glassware you told us about last fall when you and Alicia were discussing Italy?"

"Yes"

"They are quite beautiful."

"Mmm. Yes." He pulled some plates out of the cupboard and set them on the counter. "Breakfast is ready. Would you like to eat?"

'Yes. I'm really hungry." Nodding back to the glassware, she added, "You'll have to tell me what attracted you to these particular objects when you found them." She turned toward him and walked to the table, "This looks wonderful Martin. You are spoiling me."

"Mmm." He pursed his lips in a slight smile and thought, _"Yes, That's the idea"_.

They quietly ate their meal, each of them thinking about the other and where this weekend might lead. "I'm really looking forward to our evening tonight. I've read such good reviews of this play, and I never dreamed I'd get to see it on stage here in London ... Always have to wait for a touring company to bring the latest shows to Truro or Exeter or somewhere not too far. And although they are usually quite good, the staging is never as impressive as the original. This show in particular may not make it anywhere near Portwenn .. a little too unconventional to generate demand."

"True." They had planned an evening out at the theatre, to which Louisa was looking forward, Martin not quite so much. He was fearful that the play she had chosen to attend, an experimental piece, a wordless play with modern dance sequences, might be too outré for his taste despite receiving rave reviews. Louisa had insisted on buying the tickets herself, not wanting him to feel he had to pay for everything. "_After all", s_he had told him_, "You bought my train tickets and I'm staying with you as your guest. It's the least I can do." _He had tried to argue that she was his guest for the weekend and he wanted to treat her, but she was insistent.

As they were finishing up their breakfast, Martin asked her "What would you like to do today. It stopped snowing early last night and there isn't much on the ground so it should be easy to get around the city."

She looked at him with a sly grin on her face and rubbed her foot up and down his calf and teased, "I thought we already had plans for this morning, no?"

He looked down under the table, and remembered what plans she was referring to and moved his legs so that they trapped her foot in between them and said with a sly grin on his face, "Ah ... yes... but after?"

She extended her leg so that her foot eased up higher and she wiggled her toes on the sensitive area between his thighs and felt the reaction she was hoping for. Beaming, she answered, "We'll think of something. Are you finished with your breakfast?"

"Yes. I'll just start the washing up." He reached across the table for her plate.

She grabbed his hand, gave him a quizzical look, and asked incredulously, "Really? Now?" . As he looked up at her, he felt her toes continue their ministrations on his sensitive private parts until he accepted that there were better activities on offer at the moment. He pushed out his chair and stood up. "Uhhmm ... right ...we can do the washing up later."

"Yes. Good." Laughing she rose from her chair and headed into his bedroom. Martin followed closely behind shedding his dressing gown and vest before he reached the door.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

By the time they finished their very pleasant morning activities, it was nearing eleven. They decided to visit the Victoria and Albert Museum which was within walking distance of Martin's flat. There were plenty of things to see and drop-in tours that might appeal, and they could grab a sandwich if they found they were hungry after their big breakfast earlier. They took a leisurely approach to the museum just enjoying each other's company,knowing there was no way they could cover the entire collection in one afternoon.

Martin was interested in visiting the Asia, and Louisa agreed, noting that he seemed to have several pieces of East Asian art in his home. He told her of his interest in the philosophy of Buddhism, how suffering is part of the world and that we have the means to eliminate suffering if we make the effort. Whilst he did not actively follow Buddhist practice, he felt the philosophy was worth studying. The noble eight step path which emphasized among other things understanding, thought, action, effort and concentration were all practices he tried to use in his efforts to alleviate suffering as a doctor and surgeon. She commented on the number of Buddhas she saw in his flat and he explained that they were mostly of the Dhyana, or meditating Buddha. He found the contemplative image soothing.

They stopped by the grocers on the way back from the museum to pick up supplies for dinner at home, enjoying shopping and then assembling their simple meal together. The play was quite complex and for new lovers like Louisa and Martin, quite erotic involving seduction across class lines in sixties London. Louisa found the play extremely entertaining and despite his initial reservations, Martin found it enjoyable as well. The actors were extremely talented, the staging was clever and funny and accompanied by an eclectic jazz score. He found sharing the occasional whispered thought with one another enhanced his enjoyment of the play, and even though the more titillating parts of this particular play occasionally made him uncomfortable, he could foresee enjoying more evenings out with Louisa like this in the future.*

As much as they both wanted a repeat of the previous evening and early morning's activities, they found that they were both exhausted and wanted nothing more than to cuddle and sleep once they arrived back after the theatre.

The next morning, Martin woke first at his usual hour. He gazed down at the woman lying next to him still unable to believe that she was here in his bed. He reached over to stroke her arm and she sighed, settling further into the sheets. He didn't want to wake her so he carefully slipped out of bed and went into the bathroom. He took a quick shower, shaved and brushed his teeth, then smoothly and quietly climbed back into bed. Louisa shifted her position and Martin moved closer to wrap her in his arms. "mmm," she grunted contentedly as she felt his arms around her. "Good morning"

"Good morning," he murmured back. "How are you feeling?"

She stretched out her arms and legs, "Wonderful". She smiled and leaned in to give him a kiss, which he returned enthusiastically. He started to nuzzle her neck and then thought better of it and pulled back to look into her eyes. "Umm ... do you need to use the toilet?"

Taken aback for a moment, she stared at him, "I guess I could run use the toilet."_ "Not exactly the most romantic thing to say." _She left the bed and went into Martin's bathroom. He watched her move across the room, the silk of her gown clinging to her form suggestively. "Don't be too long," he called out. She turned and smiled at him just before she closed the door.

She used the loo as he had suggested, but when she went to brush her teeth, she realized that she had left all her toiletries in the guest bathroom. "_Well a quick swish with Martin's toothpaste and mouthwash will have to do" _She quickly washed her face, then opened the door to go back to bed.

He sat up as she walked into the room and held out his arms, "Come here" he urged her huskily, but when she reached the side of the bed, he stopped her and looked into her eyes as his hands slid down and around her gown, "You are so beautiful. Do you know that?"

"Oh", she didn't know what to say. He reached up to the straps on her gown and lowered it to the floor, caressing her arms, her waist, her belly, her hips, her thighs, gazing at her as though he were inspecting every nook and cranny of her being. He then pulled her to him so that his face was nestled in between her breasts, "Oh, Louisa" was all he could say. She ran her fingertips through the hair on the back of his neck and then down to his shoulders and in between his shoulder blades, rubbing her face into his hair. He grazed her nipples with his tongue then feasted on one for a moment or three while gripping her bottom with both hands. "Mmmmm, that feels so good" she murmured in appreciation and he raised his head to kiss her lightly, then returned to enjoy the other side. Suddenly an image from his dream popped into his head; it was that matchmaker who had come into his surgery the first week asking if he was a leg or a breast man and leering at him knowingly. "_God not now."_ He paused momentarily shaking his head to clear that image from his mind.

"Martin, are you okay?" Louisa had noticed the lull in his attentions; she had been stroking his back with her fingernails and was worried that perhaps she had hurt him as her passion was mounting.

"Fine ...better than fine". He lay back down on the bed and pulled her down on top of him, kissing her hard as he continued his explorations.

Later as they lay in bed contently entwined together, Louisa asked Martin, "Am I anything like her?"

Fearing that she was referring to Edith, Martin asked warily, "Like who?"

"Like your dream Louisa. Who did you think I meant?"

Ignoring her question, he thought about her versus his dream Louisa. "You are a little like her. Obviously you look like her."

"Yes, and ... ?"

"And you have the same job and live in the same village."

"Okay ... anything else?"

"You have the same brilliant smile. I love your smile, and your laugh. You laugh much more than she did."

"I know it was just a dream, but I am curious. How did you meet in your dream?"

"Oh ... awkwardly ... I was flying to Newquay to meet with the PCT interview panel and she was sitting across from me on the plane. I noticed something wrong with her eye. Turns out she had acute glaucoma, but when I leaned over to inspect her eye more closely, she told me I had a problem and she got up and found a different seat. Then she ended up on the PCT hiring panel ... was the only one who voted against me ... all very awkward."

Louisa laughed, "Yes, I can imagine. But I wonder why you imagined meeting her that way, because the entire dream came out of your imagination, right?"

'Uhm," Martin pondered. 'It's just something I do. When I meet someone, I can't help but notice the obvious signs of a medical problem. And then I do tend to rub people the wrong way, so I am frequently called names or told to sod off or something like that. I just tend to ignore them ... But you, the real you, didn't get angry with me when we first met."

"No, but then you didn't try to diagnose me. You were really quite sweet." She was nestled in his arms and she trailed her fingers absently over his thigh.

"There was nothing wrong with you ... although I do worry about your possible vertigo. And when I saw you in hospital that day, I couldn't believe you were real. I knew I had to be polite because I wanted to get to know you."

"And now you know me quite well," she rubbed his bare chest, sliding her hand down over his belly heading lower, till he grabbed it intertwining his fingers with hers, and said, " yes, one might say we know each other quite well ... one might say we know each other in the biblical sense." He couldn't help borrowing Bert's phrase regarding the colonel and his wife.

This brought forth a peal of laughter from Louisa's lips, "Aren't you impertinent!" She continued to laugh, "Just when I think I am beginning to understand you, you say something totally unexpected."

Martin gave her a sly grin and rolled her over kissing her affectionately. "Perhaps it's time for us to greet the day."

"I am a bit peckish. What's for breakfast?"

"Go get dressed. I'll fix us an omelette.

They spent the rest of their day exploring the sights near Martin's flat, the science museum and the natural history museum, both of them enjoying the exhibits since each had an interest in the natural world. In the evening, they went to the grocery store to select the provisions for their dinner. Neither had done much Italian cooking and after their meal Friday evening, they had decided to try their hand at some herbed polenta along with chicken cooked in a garlic, mushroom wine sauce. For these two, it was a very pleasant way to pass the evening. They both decided that this was a cuisine they wanted to explore further, maybe the next time Louisa was in London.

After doing the washing up, they sat on the sofa with a cup of tea to review the weekend. Martin was anxious to know if Louisa had enjoyed her time with him in London and he wanted to plan their next visit. "I expect an e-mail from Geoffrey at the end of next week. I wasn't planning on returning to Cornwall until the end of next month, but if he sends the plans, it would make sense to review them whilst I am in the house. So I should go down at the end of the month."

"That would be good. Do you want to stay with me in my cottage?' Louisa really wanted him to stay but wasn't entirely sure she was ready for the gossip that his staying would generate. Truth be told though, it was likely that her visit with him this weekend would start tongues wagging anyway.

"Yes, I'd like that, although I may not be able to arrive until late. End of January is a particularly busy time for our department. And I'll have to leave mid-day on Sunday."

That's okay. Two nights are better than none. I can pick you up if you'd like. That way there wouldn't be a car for the villagers to gossip about."

"I could just stay with Joan."

"No. I want you to stay with me; we have so little time together as it is. The villagers will gossip no matter what we do, so we might as well give them something to talk about. We'll be old news by Sunday morning. And if we decide to stay together, then you will be staying at my place whenever you come down in any event. No sense in sneaking around. We are adults after all."

Martin picked up on the uncertainty in her comment and began to worry. "_If we stay together? After this weekend, I would have thought it was decided._" His tone was guarded when he asked, "What do you mean, 'if we stay together'?"

"Well ... you know... things are perfect now ... except that we live 300 miles apart. What if we can't resolve our living arrangements? I don't want a long distance relationship forever. And maybe we will discover that we drive each other bodmin."

"Hmmm," he grunted. "Not likely. I'm sure we can make it work." Martin said this with more conviction than he felt, knowing that he could bungle up things right properly given half the chance. "Can you come back up to London in February?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact, a friend of mine is getting married here on the 15th, right after Valentine's Day. Do you think you could escort me to the wedding and reception? It's an evening affair, black tie, but you could just wear a dark suit if you prefer."

He wanted to decline; the thought of spending an evening with possibly hundreds of strangers was almost more than he could bear, but he also knew Louisa would expect him to socialise with her if they were to be a couple, and he wanted that more than he feared a tedious evening. At least she would be by his side.

Lifting his head and rolling his eyes, he exclaimed, "A Valentine's wedding? Sounds ghastly."

Louisa screwed up her mouth in reply, "Possibly, but I still want to go and see some old friends."

He reached for her hand, mostly to reassure himself, and grumbled, "Yes, I guess I can go with you."

Louisa picked up on the dread inherent in his tone. "I'm not asking you to face a firing squad."

"No, you're not." He nervously started to play with her fingers, rubbing them between both his hands. "But Louisa, I'm really rubbish at parties, never could master the art of small talk, don't see the point. But I want to be with you, so I'll go.""

"Well then, maybe this will be our first test. See how we manage in a social setting. Hmmm?"

"Oh god." Martin didn't want to think he could bugger it up so soon, but knew he couldn't back out of this wedding if he really wanted to be with Louisa. Didn't Aunty Ruth tell him that he would have to change if he wanted to be with Louisa? True she wasn't talking about the real Louisa, but the advice was relevant nonetheless.

"You won't have to engage in small talk. I'll have to introduce you to my friends, and you'll have to say 'nice to meet you' or some such, but otherwise just stand next to me and hold my hand and dance with me once or twice, okay?"

"Right"

"The following week is mid-term break, so I could stay for a few more days if that would be alright? Maybe leave Wednesday night or Thursday morning."

"Thursday morning" Martin quickly responded. "Why don't you stay through to the following weekend?"

"I wish I could, but I have to be back by Thursday latest. As head, I need to make sure everything is properly organized for when the students return after break."

"I will have to work that week even though you'll be here, but I'll try to arrange my hours so I can be home early so we can spend as much time together as possible."

"I understand. I don't expect you to take the week off just because I'm here. It will be good for me to see just what your routine is like."

'Yes. Good. Very good." And he reached out to pull her closer to him in an intimate embrace, and whispered in her ear, "Perhaps we should retire early tonight."

She whispered back before nibbling on his ear, "mmm ... yes very good idea."

He took her face in his hands and softly kissed her. As she responded and they deepened the kiss he pushed her down onto the couch and leaned over her slipping his hands under her jumper to fondle her breasts. She loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt so she could run her hands over his chest. He slid his hands down to unbutton the waistband on her trousers, then reconsidered and jumping up from the sofa, lifted her upright as well. He grabbed her hand and gruffly commanded, "Into the bedroom; let's do this right." He strode into the bedroom, pulling her behind him where they speedily finished removing their clothing and tumbled into the bed. Where previously their lovemaking was slow and tender, this night's was full of passion and urgency, driven by the knowledge that soon they must part.

***Author's Note: The play that Martin and Louisa attend is "Play without Words", first staged at the National Theatre's Lyttleton Theatre in 2002 and then revived for a run again at the Lyttleton Theatre in December 2003 through March 2004.**


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41**

Louisa wanted to talk about her weekend with Martin, and there were only two people in whom she really felt she could confide, Joan and Alicia. Alicia knew how she felt about Michael, but she was still pulling for him. On the other hand, even though Joan was Martin's aunt and loved him, Louisa felt that she was also an impartial sounding board in that she seemed to want whatever was best for Louisa.

Martin had dropped her off at Paddington at 6:30 Monday morning and they gave each other a discreet kiss good-bye while the taxi waited to take Martin straight to hospital where he had several early morning procedures scheduled. She missed him the moment the taxi pulled away. At least she had a full morning on the train to daydream about the weekend and to think about his visit in just two short weeks, and to ponder how open she wanted to be with the villagers about her relationship with him.

She was back in her office by noon on Monday, and even though the start of a new week was always chaotic, the school seemed to be humming along beautifully. Of course, Maura had wanted to know how her weekend went. The entire village knew that Louisa had gone to visit Martin, staying in his flat in London. Joan had let it be known that Martin had a lovely guest bedroom, where she was certain that Louisa would be staying, but the village was having none of it, and everyone wanted to be the first to hear all about her trip.

By the end of the day, after all the students had left, a crowd gathered in Louisa's office to hear about her trip. She regaled them with details about their meals out, the exhibits they had seen at the museums and the play they had attended. That was all well and good, but what they really wanted to know was whether they were going to lose their headmistress to this ill-tempered London surgeon. Of course most of them had resigned themselves to losing her when they thought she would marry the local GP and move with him to America. As sad as it would be to miss her if she married Dr. O'Leary, at least he was a fun-loving fellow, a chap one could have a pint with. Joan's nephew was dreary, far too serious for their Louisa. None of them could really understand what Louisa saw in him.

Louisa had been home less than five minutes when she heard a knock on the door, and when she opened it, she saw Alicia waiting with a bag full of goodies and a bottle of wine. Alicia gave her a big hug, "Welcome home," then walked in and exclaimed with a big grin, "Dinner and wine in exchange for all the salacious details!"

Louisa laughed at her friend's temerity and replied as she closed the door, "We had a very nice weekend."

Alicia pulled a homemade casserole out of her bag along with a salad and some crusty bread, and continued, "I'm sure you did, so tell me all about it ... and I don't want to hear about the dinners out or the play or the museums; I want to know how it went with Martin."

Louisa smiled back at her, "It went exceedingly well."

Waggling her fingers, Alicia prompted, "more ... "

Beaming, Louisa added, "Brilliant, just brilliant. And that's all I'm going to say."

Alicia had been hoping to get a little more insight into her friend's feelings, but could see Louisa wasn't going to go into great detail, at least not yet. "So tell me about his flat."

"Oh, it's in a beautiful building, on the 6th floor with a view of a small park across the street. It's all very masculine, leather sofa and chairs with lots of artwork, paintings and sketches. He has a number of figurines and several pieces of that Venetian glassware you and he discussed when he was here in November. There are two bedrooms, both with en-suites, dark brown and navy linens, as I said, all very masculine."

Alicia interrupted, "Both bedrooms?"

"Yes – even the guest room which he uses mostly as his study."

"And you stayed in the guest room? Were you comfortable there? But you were in his bedroom as well ... in order to know about the color of the linens, yes?"

"Umm, yes." Louisa replied thinking "_At least my things stayed in the guest room_." She thought it best to change the subject. "And the kitchen is just fabulous, completely modern and totally fitted out. We were able to cook two marvellous dinners there. The first morning, Martin rose early and by the time I was awake, he had prepared a delicious breakfast. He is such a good cook."

"And you stayed in the guest room the entire weekend?"

"Ummm" Louisa gave her a wry smile.

"I knew it, I just knew it. So how was it?"

"I already told you. We had a lovely weekend and I'm not going to elaborate." She pulled some plates and wine glasses out of the cupboard, opened the bottle of wine, poured two glasses and gave one to Alicia. "Let's drink to good friends ..."

"And brilliant men" Alicia added with a chuckle.

They dished up their supper and talked about the many things that good friends talk about over dinner. As they were finishing up both dinner and the bottle of wine, Alicia got serious, "You know dear, I still don't know what you see in Martin. It's not like he's a blond Adonis or anything, and he's so sober and dull, he's almost ... well funereal. I know he'd be a good provider, but is that what you're looking for? What's his appeal?'

Louisa leaned back, twirling her wine glass in her fingers and feeling a little hurt that her best friend couldn't see Martin's good qualities. "I know he's quiet and serious. That's part of his appeal, for me anyway, that he will be steadfast and reliable ... that and his intelligence. Those are the qualities that have made him such a successful surgeon. And if I'm honest I find his professional accomplishments and stature quite attractive, and the fact that he chose me is just, well, actually amazing. Plus he is so gentle and caring when he is around me; he makes me feel special. And maybe he's not a blond Adonis to you, but I think he's very attractive, so tall and elegant"

"Okay, but you live 300 miles apart. What makes you think he's going to stick around?"

"He's coming down in two weeks for the weekend."

"Okay, and then?"

"I'm going back up to London in mid-February for a few days at mid-term break. We are going to try to see each other two weekends a month, longer if we can manage it."

"That sounds exhausting. At some point one of you will have to move, and it's not likely it will be him, is it?"

"No." Louisa admitted in a whisper.

"It's either that or break up. Well, I'm happy for you and I hope it all works out, but frankly I still think Michael is a better match for you, so much more lively. Did you do anything fun whilst you were in London, other than in bed I mean."

Louisa arched her eyebrows in response to Alicia's comment about their bedroom activities, and decided not to deny or confirm. Instead she replied, "We did go to theatre and I have to tell you that Martin is quite witty; he'd lean over and make some pithy remark about the play and it was all I could do to keep from laughing out loud."

The villagers were more than happy to fill Michael in on the details of Louisa's trip, so he was aware of the play, the museum visits, the dinners out, but none of that answered the question to which he wanted an answer. Did he still have a chance with Louisa, or should he turn his attentions elsewhere. Carrie was certainly giving him encouragement, but he wanted to be certain that Louisa was no longer interested. He dropped by her flat early Wednesday evening as Louisa was preparing supper.

Joan had popped in on Tuesday to see if they could get together. She had been anxious to hear how things went, but didn't want to intrude on Louisa's first day back. Louisa was busy as usual and suggested that Joan come over for dinner on Wednesday, which was why she was preparing a simple meal for them to share this evening when Michael knocked on the door just before Joan was due to arrive.

Louisa answered the door thinking it was Joan, "Hi, come on...oh Michael. I thought you were Joan"

"Good evening to you too. Why would you be expecting Joan?"

"Oh. She was coming over for dinner this evening."

"I was hoping you could come out with me this evening, maybe get some supper, share a bottle of wine ... talk"

"I can't tonight. Maybe some other time." She tried to look over his shoulder to see if Joan was nearby, but he was standing in the doorway and blocking her view.

"Tomorrow, then?"

"Okay, tomorrow." Michael walked out just as Joan was arriving and he nodded, "Good evening Joan."

So here they were sitting down to supper, two women who had discovered in the last several months that they had a common interest in a certain London surgeon. Joan could tell by the way Louisa was glowing when she told her about the things they had done over the weekend that Martin had impressed her. Much as she loved Martin, despite the good qualities she knew he had, she also knew he was a difficult man, and she really didn't understand what Louisa saw in him. "So, you had a good visit with Martin?"

"Yes. We had a wonderful weekend. I hated for it to end, but he will be down weekend after next."

'Oh – yes, the house plans should be ready by then. I don't know why he feels the need to renovate my house, but if he has nothing better to do with his money than fix me up, more power to him."

"Joan. You know he is concerned for your comfort."

"And his own, I dare say. He couldn't stop talking about how nice it was to have hot water now that the boiler has been replaced."

"And you're not happy about having a reliable source of hot water ... and heat this winter?"

"Yes, yes, it is a comfort to my old bones. I will admit that," Joan replied grudgingly.

'I believe he's also having a bedroom and en-suite bath fitted up on the first floor as well. He said he could use it when he comes down, but that it would also be useful for you if the stairs became too much for you. He's thinking of your old bones as well, don't ya think?"

"Yes, yes." she repeated and then added, "I have to admit I will be glad to see him even though it's only been a month. You know Phil and I always thought of him as the son we never had."

"I know." Louisa was pensive for a moment before adding with a bit of a twinkle in her eye, "You know Joan, would you mind if Martin stayed with me when he comes down?"

Seeing Louisa sitting there with a wry smile on her face, Joan got the message. "Getting serious is it?"

Nodding, Louisa took a sip of her wine and said, "Maybe."

"Oh ho! No maybe about it. I am so happy for the two of you."

"It's still very early in our relationship. We are going to try to spend more time together to make sure. As I told Martin, it's possible that we could discover that we drive each other bodmin."

"Hmmm ... I love him dearly, but living with Martin could be challenging. If anyone is going to muck it up it will be him, I'm afraid."

"He is aware that he can be difficult and we have discussed how I won't put up with it. I have my ways of letting him know when he is going off the rails and so far, it's working."

Joan thought about their interaction during the village holiday party and how Louisa had quieted Martin with just a look as he appeared to be gearing up for a rant, and she grinned at Louisa. "Yes, I daresay you do have your ways, but you're right. It is still early days. Have you told Michael? Are you going to tell Michael?"

"No I haven't told him yet, but I will tomorrow. He came by just before you arrived wanting to have dinner, so I agreed to meet him tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to that conversation."

"No. But it needs to be done. Are you sure you don't really prefer Michael? You know I love Martin dearly and if he could make you happy, then I would love for you two to be together, but I wonder if Michael isn't more likely to make you happy in the long term."

"What makes you say that? Alicia keeps harping on that as well and I think you're both wrong. Yes Michael is fun loving, but I'm not sure there is any substance to him no matter how convivial he may be." She let out a sigh. "You know Joan, compared to Martin, Michael seems like an overgrown adolescent. The more time I spend with him, the more I realise how much I value Martin's character, his integrity, his intelligence, his compassion. He really is an extraordinary man. He'll never be the life of the party like Michael, and that's okay because he is steadfast, solid. I can tell that if he commits to me, he will never back down. And that's important to me."

"How can you be sure. You really haven't known each other all that long."

"Yes, that's true, but I have known you for a long time ... my whole life and I know I can trust you. You have given me a perspective on his life that I never could get anywhere else, and knowing his background and what he has made of himself, I can't help but admire him. And his friends, Chris and Michelle: they gave me insights too. He really is remarkable. And don't worry, we won't jump into anything without getting to know each other better. In fact, we decided to spend two weekends a month together and holidays when we can. I'm thinking I may try to spend the summer in London in order to really get to know him."

"Ummm ... that's all well and good, but there's one thing you haven't mentioned." Joan was concerned. Although Louisa beamed when talking about Martin, she hadn't said anything about love.

"What's that?" Louisa was genuinely curious.

"Your reasons seem very pragmatic. Martin has integrity, he will be steadfast, committed. But, what about love. Do you love him?"

Louisa was taken aback. She was quiet for a few minutes, pensive, and then said, "I know that I may sound very pragmatic, almost objective when I describe the things I admire about Martin. I am impressed by his stature in his field, by his overcoming a difficult childhood to excel, how righteous he is. But he is also very caring. I know he tries to do his best for his patients. He is gentle and attentive and giving with me, and I think he will make a very good father. My heart melts every time I see him. I know that sounds corny, but it's true ... and yes, I do think I love him."

"Ah."


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42**

A few days after Louisa's weekend visit, Martin was in his office reviewing his notes for the next morning's procedures when the head of surgery, Simon Watson knocked on his door. "Got a minute, Mart?"

Martin looked up and motioned for him to enter, "Yes. Come through."

Simon entered and then in an unusual move, closed the door behind him. He sat down opposite Martin, opened his laptop, and slid it across the desk toward Martin. "I was wondering if you had seen these?"

Martin moved the laptop closer to bring the screen into focus and scowled.

"There are three of them, and they have been circulating through the surgical unit for the past three days."

Martin scrolled through the pictures, his scowl deepening with each photo he saw. "Where did these come from?", he growled.

He peered intently at the screen and wasn't happy with what he saw, pictures of him and Louisa at the play they attended Saturday evening. There he was with Louisa holding her hand as they walked up the aisle during intermission; there was another with the two of them leaning in close with her lips close to his ear sharing a confidence, and the last one with Louisa looking up at him beaming with one of her glorious smiles that he so loved.

"Evidently one of your registrars was attending a play this weekend and happened to see you and your friend there. You know these new smart phones. You can take a picture anywhere with your phone, and well here they are. There had been rumours that you had been seen with a beautiful young woman in Cornwall over the holidays, but these photos confirm that you are seeing someone."

Martin had noticed that the whispers that usually followed him as he walked through the halls had been louder than normal, but he had not really paid attention. He had found that the whispers generally consisted of a rehash of the unreasonableness of his demands on his registrars or of the strict standards he required of the surgical teams. He insisted that all perform at the highest levels and castigated those who were not up to the task. But to discover that gossip about his personal life was entertaining hospital staff was abhorrent. "How dare they pry into my personal life? What possible interest could they have about my friends? And ... Why have you brought this to my attention?"

"Good questions all." Simon leaned back and steepled his fingers together looking at Martin for any hints as to how to proceed. "You must know that each new team of registrars finds you to be an enigma, seemingly totally absorbed in medicine to the exclusion of everything else."

Martin stared straight at Simon and declared emphatically, "Hmmph. My private life is of no consequence to their medical training."

"Be that as it may. Nonetheless, the accepted lore is that you are a complete loner with no interest in the opposite sex ... or the same sex for that matter. To discover that you have a beautiful girlfriend, and to have pictures to prove it, was a great coup for one of your registrars."

"Who was it? I'll teach him to invade the privacy of others."

'I've already spoken with the offending party and instigated disciplinary measures. I've also instructed the IT department to delete all e-mail containing these photos and all sites on which they may reside."

"Right." Martin was somewhat appeased.

"But you realise that we cannot do anything about any of the photos that may reside on personal computers or personal phones and such."

"Hmmm."

"I think your best course of action is to lay low, pretend you are not aware of their existence and it will all blow over in a short while."

"That would have been easier had you not made me aware of their existence."

"Yes ... but I have an ulterior motive in showing them to you. If I may pry, is this a serious relationship?"

"No you may not pry, as you call it. It is none of your business."

"Actually I do have a business reason for asking, revolving around funding for the new surgical wing we'd like to build. It always helps if, when we take current benefactors and potential donors to dinner, that we include spouses and significant others ... makes for a more convivial evening and tends to help loosen the purse strings, if you will. As you are one of our star surgeons, it would be beneficial to have not only you, but also your lovely companion if she is available."

"She lives and works in Cornwall."

"But would she be available to come up to London occasionally?"

"She plans to come up periodically. I suppose we could join you for an occasional evening," he grudgingly replied. Martin hated these social occasions, but knew they were important if the hospital were to have the most up-to-date equipment to enable cutting edge research. He thought having Louisa by his side would make these evenings more bearable for him, but he hated to ask her to join him, knowing how tedious they could be.

"Great. When are you expecting her back in town? Perhaps you two could join Joyce and me for dinner and I could tell her all about our fund-raising activities." Simon was anxious to meet Ellingham's lovely friend and was hopeful that she would be charming enough to counteract his gruff facade.

"She plans to be back in town the weekend of 15 February and for a few days the following week."

"Well then, we'll plan on having dinner on Tuesday evening the 18th. Do you think that will work?"

Martin nodded his head in acquiescence.

"So tell me a little more about her. How long have you been seeing her? What does she do down in Cornwall? That sort of thing..."

"Her name is Louisa Glasson and she is head teacher at Portwenn Primary school. We met last August when a friend of hers was in hospital."

"Yes?" He was hoping for a little more information, but then this was Martin Ellingham, a man known for his economical use of the English language. "Is she as beautiful as she appears in these pictures?"

"Yes, very." Martin smiled slightly to himself as he recalled the feel of her breath on his cheek as she whispered how happy she was to be there with him.

Simon noticed the smile and thought that Ellingham was certainly smitten with this woman. He hoped that she wasn't the kind to bolt as soon as she experienced his caustic temper ... or ... perhaps she was one of those women who enjoyed a good row. One never really knew. One thing was for certain, Ellingham was a brilliant surgeon and Simon wanted to keep him happy in his work. He could be quite articulate when describing the benefits of certain improvements to the hospital plant, but less than effective in winning the good graces of hospital benefactors. If this woman, Louisa, were able to mitigate Ellingham's difficult personality with some charm of her own, they might make quite an effective fund-raising team. And in the long run, that would make Martin's job more rewarding and raise the hospital's reputation at the same time.

"So .. we're on for dinner on Tuesday the 18th. I'll tell Ms. Newcross to put it in your diary on my way out."

"Right."

**Authors note: Many thanks to my readers and your wonderful reviews; they are greatly appreciated. I hope you enjoy this short chapter; I can't promise how often I will be able to post in the next several weeks. But "Just a Glimpse" will return; I'm having too much fun with it to stay away for too long.**


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43**

Martin came down to meet with Geoffrey the architect the last weekend in January to go over the plans for the farmhouse renovation. He arrived late Friday night and Louisa picked him up at the station as she had promised. Late as it was when they arrived back at her cottage, it wasn't too late for a few snoops to notice them as they made their way from the car park over to her cottage. Because Martin was carrying his weekend bag, it was easy for these same gossips to make the logical leap that he was staying the night with her. Before dawn the next morning, most of the village was aware of the next step in their beloved head teacher's relationship with the gruff London surgeon.

The Portwenn surgery was twice as crowded as usual on a Saturday morning with all the town busybodies anxious to see how Doc Mike was holding up knowing that his girl was now with the London surgeon. He had known this morning was inevitable, but that didn't make it any easier.

Louisa and Michael had had a difficult meal shortly after her visit with Joan. She had told him that she was pursuing a relationship with Martin and that she didn't feel right spending time with him as well. He wasn't willing to give up without a fight; after all he had staked his claim with her more than a year ago and he had convinced himself that it was merely a matter of time before he would sweep her off her feet and across the pond to settle down with him in the states. There were no other eligible men in Portwenn with his social and educational stature, and on a day to day basis there still wasn't. He knew he was a good catch for her, and this surgeon was as arrogant and unpleasant as all the clichés made them out to be. "Louisa, you do know that Ellingham has a reputation, even in London, for being the most unpleasant consultant in hospital. My friend, George, tells me that he makes most of the surgical nurses cry on a weekly basis, and that he terrorises the rest of the nursing staff. People cringe when he walks past in fear he will find fault with their mere existence."

"I find that hard to believe. Yes he can be demanding. I've seen that first hand, but it's only because he wants the best for his patients. You can't fault him for that. He is really quite endearing when he is with me."

"All I'm saying is that a leopard can't change its spots and he will be abusive to you eventually. You can't expect me to wait forever until you find out just how horrible he can be."

"No Michael, I don't expect you to wait for me to change my mind about Martin."

Louisa took a deep breath and began the speech she had prepared for this moment, knowing that she would hurt Michael deeply, but also knowing it was the right thing to do, to release him to find love elsewhere. "I've thought about this a lot. I am very fond of you Michael, I really am, but I've realised that's not enough to give up all I love about my village and my country to move across the ocean to be with you. And I think that is the point. If I really loved you enough to make a life with you, it wouldn't matter where we lived, but I just don't. And it wouldn't change even if I should decide that Martin isn't right for me."

Stunned at her declaration, Michael stood up speechless, then spat out, "You're making a big mistake. Good night."

So Michael endured his Saturday morning surgery with as much grace as he could muster whilst he thought about the woman he loved waking up with Ellingham close beside her, perhaps even making love before they headed out to Joan's farm, spending the remainder of the day together and the night. He tried to put it out of his mind, but each new patient felt it necessary to get his opinion on the news. Finally the day was over and he decided to start the evening early with a pint at the pub. Carrie noticed him heading to the pub and knew that Louisa was busy with Martin this weekend. She put on her most alluring outfit and searched out Michael a half-hour later. He was glad of her company on what was likely to be the most difficult night of his time in Portwenn.

Martin and Louisa had a productive day meeting with both Geoffrey and Morgan Prouse, the contractor. Martin had reviewed the plans on the train trip down and had several questions. He had originally thought he could avoid a trip down and make his comments from his memory of the house, but he was glad he had made the trip. Going over the plans while walking through the house clarified some of his initial questions and helped him visualise how the changes would affect the flow of traffic through the main floor. They did end up changing the location of the door to the downstairs bedroom and the location of the clothes cupboard. But the biggest changes were in the kitchen remodel; Martin had definite opinions as to the placement of the appliances and kitchen sink, and he wasn't shy about expressing his preferences. Geoffrey also felt strongly about his initial design, but despite their strongly felt opinions they were able to discuss the plans calmly, and come to a consensus that both found acceptable.

Louisa watched this negotiation with great interest. After Michael's description of Martin's temperament in hospital, she had feared that his temper would flare and at best, he would be disparaging about any of the plans he found unacceptable and at worst, he would unleash a scathing epithet on Geoffrey's competence. Michael's warnings about Martin's difficult disposition had made her even more observant of his behaviour, and as much as she admired and loved Martin, she was still concerned about his social skills and this included the control of his temper. Because she had no intention of spending her life with a man who might be verbally abusive to her, she observed him carefully. She had prepared herself to give Martin "the look" if things got out of hand and was pleased that there had been no need for any such reprimand. While he was occasionally curt with his comments, he was always civil and considered Geoffrey's opinions carefully before offering an alternative suggestion.

They spent a pleasant evening with Stefan and Alicia, Louisa determined to include Martin in at least some of her Cornwall social circle. Martin had groused a bit before leaving for their home, but had seemed to enjoy the evening despite his continuing discomfort with Alicia's insistence on giving him a hug every time she saw him. He and Stefan had developed a mutual respect as experts in their respective fields. Stefan had worked quietly behind the scenes with his dad's solicitor and managed to settle the farm title on Joan without requiring either Martin or Joan to make contact with his Dad.

Neither Stefan nor Alicia mentioned the fact that Martin was staying at Louisa's and not at Joan's. Louisa and Alicia had met over a bottle of wine the previous week, after Louisa's dinners with both Joan and Michael, so she was aware that Louisa had broken up with Michael. Louisa had been very discreet with respect to the more dishy aspects of her developing relationship Martin and it was all Alicia could do to resist pulling her into a corner to confirm what the village wags were discussing. Nonetheless she was certain by the body language that the new couple was sharing that they were indeed intimate and both were very much in love

They had a delightful evening discussing the weather, quite mild for the first of February, the farmhouse renovations, and the wine regions that Stefan and Alicia were planning to visit during their spring trip to the Croatian coast. Martin felt comfortable contributing to the conversation where he had something to add. All in all Louisa felt that it was a successful evening, and the evening got even better once they were back at her cottage ... that is once they cleared up Ms Lizbeth's position in their relationship.

Louisa had made sure Lizzie was out of her bedroom the night before; it had been late when they returned from the station and they were both tired. She just didn't have the energy to discuss her usual sleeping arrangements with Lizzie tucked into her side. Upon their return from Alicia and Stefan's, whilst Louisa was straightening up downstairs, Martin had taken a shower and was preparing for bed. Lizzie had taken her usual place in the middle of the bed and was busy grooming herself. Martin entered Louisa's bedroom and immediately encountered Lizzie. "Louisa", he shouted. When she failed to respond immediately, he bellowed even more urgently, "Louisa". She ran up the stairs, "What ... what?"

"Your cat. It's on the bed." He pointed horrified.

"Yes," Louisa responded calmly. "She usually sleeps with me."

"But you don't expect her to sleep with both of us in the bed, do you?" Martin wailed plaintively. He had given up trying to convince Louisa of the health risks of handling her cat, but he drew the line at actually sleeping with the animal himself. "I can't sleep with a cat in the bed."

"Would you prefer to sleep in the guest room by yourself?" Louisa asked with a twinkle in her eye, fairly certain of his response.

Martin looked at her, flummoxed. He had been looking forward to this part of the evening all day, all week for that matter. They had made love the night before, but it was an urgent coupling fulfilling the immediate physical need each had for the other, not the slow intimate communion he hoped to share with Louisa tonight. No he didn't want to sleep in the guest room, but he didn't want to sleep with a cat either. "You would prefer to sleep with the cat over me," he stated with a look of both distaste and disbelief on his face.

"Noooo ... I would prefer to sleep with both of you."

"But we can't ... uh ..." He pointed to the bed and gestured with his hands. "It'll see us and .. uh ... get in the way. I might roll on it, crush it."

"I don't think you would. She's pretty fast."

He stood there staring at her with an anguished expression unable to think of another argument against the cat, but unable to accept sleeping with the cat. She looked back at him with the unspoken question in her eyes, "_Which is it going to be, me and the cat or a separate room?_"

Several moments passed whilst they each pondered the consequences of their respective positions. Finally Louisa relented; the sight of Martin standing there with just a hint of his manhood outlined in the soft folds of his dark silk pyjama bottoms, ready to take her to bed, reminded her that she did not want to spoil what little time they had this weekend, even for Lizzie's sake. "Okay. I'll put her downstairs. But you do have to understand; Lizzie and I are a package. If you want me in your life, you have to take Lizzie as well ... maybe not in our bed, but definitely in our home."

'Hmmm." He scowled, nodding his head slightly.

He had picked up on her reference to "our home". They had not discussed their long term plans for their relationship as both felt it was still too soon, but each seemed to understand that they hoped it would include marriage and a family. In that vein, they both had started making comments similar to the one Louisa had just made about their future life together. It was a way of letting the other know what was negotiable and what was not. It appeared that the cat was not negotiable. Martin really wanted this woman, but how was he going to live with a cat in his life? Was he going to have to compromise on this if he wanted Louisa as his wife. Was he willing to do that? As he watched her take the cat downstairs, he sighed, shaking his head and wondering how he had let himself be so captivated that he would seriously consider living with a cat. Perhaps she would eventually relent, and consoled with this hope, he decided to enjoy the time they had this weekend and sort the feline conundrum another day.

**Author's note: Life in Port Isaac is just lovely, but it leaves little time for writing. There are occasional slow days, so I hope to post a chapter here and there over the next few weeks. Thank you for your patience.**


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44**

Finding the perfect dress for her friend's valentine themed wedding was a challenge. She wanted something special that could work for the wedding as well as dinner with Martin's boss. She finally found what she thought was the perfect dress, a silk sheath in a deep teal with thin spaghetti straps and clear crystal embroidery across the bodice which was fitted and twisted slightly so that the straight skirt fell in a soft drape to just below the knee. The design of the bodice was such that her neck and shoulders were highlighted in a way that she hoped Martin would find very sexy. Best of all it came with a short-sleeved shrug knit from a fine gauge silk yarn in the same colour with matching trim that would make the dress demure enough for dinner with the head of surgery. She had swept her hair up into an elegant knot highlighted with a jewelled hair pin. Martin expressed his admiration after zipping her up by caressing her shoulders and nuzzling her neck behind her ears. He even managed to tell her, "Uh ... you look very nice."

They met up with Holly and her date Oscar Ortanga, an architect specializing in east end renovations, and they found a pew near the front. Holly had confided in Louisa that she thought he might be "the one". He seemed pleasant enough, but Louisa couldn't help noticing how his eyes were appraising nearly every women under the age of thirty who walked into the church, only glancing at Holly whenever she spoke to him directly. In contract, she could feel Martin's gaze focused solely on her only glancing at others when they spoke directly to him.

The church was arrayed in red and white. Small sprays of red and white carnations adorned the ends of each pew. The altar was festooned with large bouquets of red roses and white lilies interspersed among sprays of leatherleaf ferns. The overhead lighting was dimmed and there were candles, lots of candles so the mood was quite romantic.

The groom and his best man entered the church and were soon flanked by five additional groomsmen. As the wedding march commenced, the guests stood and the first of the six bridesmaids started down the aisle. In keeping with the overall red and white theme, each bridesmaid was arrayed in a red satin gown with white elbow length gloves and a pearl choker with a spray of lily of the valley in her hair. They carried bouquets of red rose buds and white lily of the valley.

Martin had moved his hand discretely to the small of Louisa's back when the first of the bridesmaids appeared. It was a reflexive gesture in an attempt to reassure himself of her presence. She turned and smiled up at him, to assure him she was glad to have him by her side. He looked down briefly not changing his usual neutral expression, then reoriented his gaze to the procession, the ring bearer and flower girls. Louisa whispered to him, "I think both of them have large families ..." He responded with a quiet grunt and clasped his hands behind his back.

Once the bride had reached the altar, and the maid of honour had arranged her six foot train just so, the minister started the service. The congregation was seated, and Louisa reached over and took one of Martin's hands that he had folded on his lap. He folded it in both of his and found himself gently caressing her fingers with his thumb as the bride and groom recited their vows. _"Will Louisa want an elaborate wedding like this?"_ he thought to himself. "_God, I hope not."_

With the vows taken and the bride kissed, the newly married couple walked down the aisle to the strains of the Beatles' _"All you need is love"_, and the cheers of the congregation, although one eminent surgeon in the congregation did not join in the general revelry, but rather stood sternly, his hands clasped behind his back and his eyes lowered, his focus solely on the figure of his companion standing in front of him.

The reception was scheduled to take place in a recently renovated historic home within a short drive of the church, and the bride had arranged for drinks and hors d'oeuvres to be served to the guests while the formal wedding pictures were taken. Holly and her date had taken a taxi out to the church which was in a suburb of London while Martin had opted to drive rather than rely on what might be spotty taxi service on a Saturday night. "Would you two like to ride with us to the reception?" Louisa offered. "That would be fun, wouldn't it Martin?"

"Ummm" he replied without much enthusiasm.

"Are you sure it's no bother?" Holly could see that Martin was less than welcoming.

"Of course not. Martin's car has plenty of room. Come on; it's just this way."

"Yes." Martin agreed tucking his chin down. When they got to his car, Louisa indicated to Oscar that he should ride in the front as she slid into the back seat with Holly. Martin grunted. He had hoped to have Louisa to himself for at least a few minutes on the drive to the reception; he wanted to ask her opinion of the elaborate wedding. "_Are we to have no time to ourselves this evening?_" He glanced in the rear view mirror and saw saw Louisa and Holly huddled together gossiping and laughing. This was a side of Louisa he hadn't seen before and he found it distasteful; she was behaving like a schoolgirl, and he hoped this wasn't typical behaviour.

Oscar chatted away telling Martin all about his most recent project thinking he would be interested because the ground floor of the conversion would include a primary care clinic, which the neighbourhood desperately needed. Martin could barely refrain from telling the man to shut up. He needed to be on his best behaviour tonight and so he held his tongue. It wouldn't be the last time.

After they arrived, Martin went to the bar to pick up a glass of white wine for Louisa and a glass of water for himself. As he returned, he was not happy to see her talking with a lean athletic man her same age. She seemed to be somewhat uncomfortable as she shifted back and forth; he had warned her that her three inch heels would prove to be impractical this evening, but she had shot back that they looked so nice with her dress, and she teased him by adding, "You have to admit you like the effect. I've seen you staring at my bum." He grunted an acknowledgement and thought to himself that they did emphasize her gluteus maximus in a totally alluring way.

As he approached, she brightened and said, "Martin. I'd like you to meet Dennis Manson, one of my old school chums. Dennis is a solicitor here in London."

"Good to meet you Martin. Actually, I'm more than an old friend, aren't I luv?" Dennis leered at her and hugged her to his side as he put his right arm around her shoulders.

Trying to keep his temper in check, Martin turned toward Louisa with a questioning look.

Dennis could see Martin tense up and kept Louisa in his grip to further annoy him as he continued,. "I'm her ex ... married for more than a year way back in the day. Didn't work out, but it was good while it lasted, wasn't it luv?"

Frowning, Martin glared at Dennis and then turned to Louisa somewhat shocked and confused, thinking _"What...? "I had no idea he would be here. Why is she letting him put his hands all over her?"_

"Well yes", she agreed. "Not the best year of my life. But we've both moved on." Louisa wriggled out from his embrace and taking her wine from Martin, put her arm through his as a way of reassuring him that he was the man she wanted to be with this evening. "So Dennis, I hear you're doing quite well for yourself and that you're planning to get married again. Is your fiancé here this evening?"

"Yes, there she is." He waved over to a beautiful young woman standing with a group of twenty somethings motioning for her to join him. "Yes. Things are definitely coming up roses these days. Representing patients who are the victims of incompetent doctors and uncaring NHS hospitals is extremely rewarding. And it doesn't hurt the old pocketbook either."

"Oh God" Martin muttered under his breath. "_An ambulance chaser. Could this get any worse?_"

"So Martin, what's your line?"

"Surgeon, vascular specialist," Martin replied shooting Dennis a look that told him just what he thought of him and his 'rewarding' profession.

Before Dennis could respond, his fiancé joined them and put her arm around Dennis' waist. She was wearing a simple navy shift with a sweetheart neckline and cap sleeves. She appeared to be in her late twenties and despite the pixie cut of her short blond hair, she exuded an elegance and a sophistication that made Louisa feel uncomfortable.

Dennis put his arm around her shoulders and greeted her, " Hello luv." Then he turned toward Martin and Louisa and said, "Marcia, I'd like you to meet Louisa and Martin. I grew up with Louisa in Portwenn. Remember, I've told you all about her."

She looked up at him and said in a polished London accent, "Oh, yes, your little Cornish schoolteacher." Turning to Louisa, she raised her chin and looking Louisa up and down, then twitching her nose, greeted her haughtily, "So nice to make your acquaintance. Has Denny told you about his work since you two were together? He has become one of the most successful malpractice solicitors in the country."

Dennis grinned and replied, "Well, I don't think I've impressed Martin here. He's a vascular surgeon."

"Didn't you win a case against a vascular surgeon recently?" Marcia asked Dennis in an innocently straightforward manner, giving him a quizzical look and also the opportunity to humiliate his ex-wife's companion, and by extension his ex-wife.

"Possibly; I've had so many wins lately, it's hard to remember." Directing his attention specifically to Louisa, he added proudly, "Marcia is no slouch either. She is an incredibly successful M&amp;A practitioner."

Dennis noticed the puzzled look on Louisa's face and explained, "Mergers and Acquisitions. It's very challenging work, and of course, the remuneration is commensurate with the difficulty."

Louisa tightened her grip on Martin's arm and stepped closer to him. Martin looked down at her and raised his eyebrow sceptically. "Right."

Louisa could feel the tension in Martin's body rising and she had had enough herself. Giving Dennis her best forced smile, she nodded and curtly replied, "Well best of luck to you both" Then turning to Martin, she took his hand in hers and said, "I think it's time for us to find our table."

"Yes, good." He was more than happy to escort her away from the ambulance chaser, and muttered under his breath as they walked away, "horrible people ... leeches, both of them."


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 45**

"What was that?" She thought she heard him say something about beaches as they walked away from Dennis and his fiancé, and she looked up at him quizzically.

"Uh, nothing."

She took his hand and then softly said, "She's very beautiful, isn't she?"

He gazed down at her thinking that yes, she was very beautiful, but then realised that she was referring to someone else and he raised his head looking around. "Who?"

She loved the timbre in his voice, how his voice raised slightly when he was uncertain.

"Marcia." All of Louisa's insecurities had come flooding back at the sight of Dennis' fiancé. No wonder he had cheated on her all those years ago. She really wasn't the woman he needed in his London world, too unsophisticated and countrified to be a helpmate to a successful London solicitor. Would Martin eventually come to the same conclusion?

"Oh." He turned to look back where the ambulance chaser and his girlfriend were standing together deep in conversation. "Typical London woman of a certain type. Nothing special."

"Really? But she's so accomplished and sophisticated."

Martin had not picked up the insecurity in her voice, "Perhaps ..."

Louisa wanted to pursue this conversation further, but they had reached their assigned table, so it would have to wait till later. Martin had assured her over the holiday that he wasn't put off by her Cornish ways, but faced with the sophisticates they had encountered in London, she needed additional assurance.

As Louisa took her place at table, Holly leaned over and whispered, "Annie's been working in the primary school way too long. This hall looks like she scavenged all the Valentines' decorations from every primary school in the city last week and brought them here."

The decorations in the reception hall continued the theme started in the church with red and white flower centrepieces on every table with the addition of red hearts trimmed in lace peeking through the bouquet. Glitter trimmed hearts of various sizes were scattered on the tables around the centrepieces, and the place cards were in red with the names printed in white. Louisa meowed cattily and swatted Holly on the arm, then giggled "So, so true ... the kids would love it. But if it makes her happy ..." She shrugged her shoulders.

Much to Martin's relief, he and Louisa were seated at a table with three of Louisa's college friends, Holly, Randi and Jeanine. The ambulance chaser was several tables removed from them. All three of Louisa's friends, as well as Annie the bride, had started out as primary school teachers just like Louisa. Holly and Louisa had moved on to administration, but Randi and Jeanine were still teaching in primary schools. Randi was living and working in London and was married to a contractor named Rich. Jeanine lived in Dorset and was dating the local GP from the village next to hers.

Martin was seated between Louisa and Jeanine, but when it became clear that he and Walter, Jeanine's date had a common interest, Jeanine suggested that she and Martin switch places. Martin reluctantly agreed, hating to leave Louisa's side, but understanding that Louisa was anxious to catch up with her friend. He was also certain that Walter was his best chance at intelligent conversation, and so he agreed. Walter was somewhat intimidated at first being seated next to a renowned London surgeon, but Martin was able to engage him in conversation by asking about the challenges he faced as a solo practitioner in a small village. Harkening back to some of the unusual situations that had arisen in his dream, he asked Walter if he had ever encountered any similar situations. "You know Martin, if I didn't know better, I would think you were a practicing GP in a small village yourself."

"Hardly" Martin sniffed. "But I _am_ interested in all sorts of medicine and I can imagine how difficult it could be in a practice such as yours. One day it's all diarrhea and sore throats, and the next day it's a car accident victim bleeding out on the street and the ambulance is more than a half hour away. It's all up to you. Very challenging. At least in my line of work, all the resources and equipment I need are at my immediate disposal."

"Yes, but still it must have taken years to develop the skill to do the surgical procedures you have to do every day and then be able to immediately respond when things go wrong. Turn on a sixpence so to speak. I don't know how you do it. Life and death every day."

"Yes that's true it can be very stressful ... and challenging. We have started using robotics in our more delicate surgeries, where precision on a microscopic level is imperative. Even the most steady hands cannot be that precise and the robots make it possible for us to repair ever smaller anomalies, anatomical repairs that were impossible as recently as two years ago. It's very exciting to be on the forefront of these innovations." Martin went on to discuss some of the recent breakthroughs they had made in surgical techniques where he had been involved.

Louisa was thoroughly enjoying her dinner conversation with her friends. When Oscar and Rich realized that they also had a common business interests, they had switched seats so that the four women were seated on one side of the table and the four men on the other. The women were laughing and giggling and the men were happily engaged in their respective conversations. Louisa had been pleased to notice how animated Martin had seemed in his conversation with Walter; it was unusual for him since he was generally very reserved in group settings. Occasionally she overheard bits and pieces of Martin's conversation, and wished she could hear all of it. She had so little opportunity to view his professional persona.

The couples resumed their original seats once dinner was over and the toasting had begun. Louisa would whisper in Martin's ear comments regarding the wedding party and explain some of the inside jokes the best man was making. He occasionally responded with an acerbic quip of his own. As the best man was making his remarks, Martin commented, "The groom appears quite sickly, very pale; perhaps he could use a transfusion." Louisa slapped his wrist playfully and whispered back, "He's probably just hung over – late night bachelor party.", to which Martin whispered back, "Hmmm ... not likely he'll be able to consummate this marriage until tonight a week". Martin said all this with a perfectly serious expression until Louisa stared at him with wide eyes unable to believe he had just said that, when he raised one of his eyebrows with a twinkle in his eyes, which started Louisa giggling so hard she had to cover her mouth with her napkin to avoid disturbing others. Holly whispered over the table, "You are going to have to share whatever it is Martin just told you; we could use more laughs."

They were about to cut the cake when Louisa decided it was time to take a break and head to the ladies. She had just entered one of the stalls when she heard two guests enter laughing and chatting. The first said, "Did you see who Louisa brought?" To which the second replied, "Who? That incredibly unpleasant looking man? Did you get a look at his ears?" Louisa didn't recognise the voices, but it was obvious they were part of her extended circle from college.

The first then replied as she entered a stall, "You do know who he is, don't you? That's Mr. Martin Ellingham. You know, top vascular surgeon at St. Thomas'."

"Never heard of him."

"My cousin is a surgical nurse and works with him often. She's always coming home with tales of hospital antics, and he's a regular feature. Always making some new registrar or nurse cry, arrogant tosser. She says he's a brilliant surgeon, but ruthless to anyone who makes a mistake, really nasty. From the stories she tells I wouldn't want to be in the same room with him let alone date him. I'm sure Louisa is still out in Cornwall; I wonder how she ever met him."

"And if he is as bad as you say, I wonder why she is with him."

"Probably his money ... wealthy family and then he earns a good bit as a top consultant."

"I never saw Louisa as the gold digger type. We'll have to ask Holly."

They continued to chat on other topics as they freshened their makeup and Louisa debated whether to show herself, letting them know she heard the entire conversation or wait until they left. In the meantime she pondered what they had said about Martin. They weren't the first to say he was abusive and difficult. She hadn't seen that side of him, not the way others had described him. True he had flared his temper when they first met, ranting about people who fail to wear helmets on their scooters or footballers using their heads on the balls, but those rants were because people were risking their health in ways that could easily be prevented. He sometimes raised his voice when they disagreed on something, but he had never been nasty or disagreeable to her. Still she needed to be watchful. Finally they left the room and she could make a discreet exit herself.

"Where have you been?" Martin asked her anxiously. "I was beginning to worry about you."

"You know the ladies, always a queue," she improvised, not wanting to disclose what had really held her up. "Look they are about to have the first dance." Louisa's face lit up as _When I Fall in Love_ by Nat King Cole began. Martin took her hand as they watched the newly married couple take the dance floor, and as soon as the guests were invited to join them, he led her to the floor, glad to finally have her to himself. He had been waiting for this opportunity all evening. All he wanted to do was hold her and revel in her closeness, but he asked anyway, "Are you enjoying yourself this evening?"

"Yes, very much." She replied. "It's so much fun seeing old friends and catching up." She beamed up at him happily, "and you seemed to enjoy your conversation with Walter."

"Yes. It was a relief to have someone with whom I could have an intelligent conversation."

"I was thinking that I might invite Jeanine and Walter down to Portwenn some weekend we are there once the farmhouse is finished. They could stay in my cottage and we could stay at the farm. It would be fun."

"Perhaps."

Fortunately the next dance was also a slow one and they continued to enjoy their time together. Louisa rested her head on Martin's shoulder as he pulled her closer resting his cheek against her hair. "What did you think of the wedding?" Louisa was wondering if Martin had any opinions.

"It was a wedding, pretty standard I should say."

"But the colour theme was pretty, don't you think? The red dresses and the men in black tie evening wear – all very elegant. And Annie's dress was just beautiful even if it was a bit much with that six foot train."

"Hmmm. Sounded to me like you and Holly didn't think too much of it. Primary school decorations, I believe you said."

"Well," she giggled, "Once we got in here, it did all seem a bit over the top."

"Yes."


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 46**

As the dance finished and they turned to walk towards the table, Louisa ran into another old friend. "Tommy, so good to see you." She gave this old friend a hug, laughing and gushing, "Isn't this fun, seeing everyone from school. It's just like a reunion."

Tommy returned her hug, "Yes, it's good to see you too. You look wonderful. I hear you're in Cornwall now. So how are things in the west country these days?"

"Beautiful as always." Taking Martin's arm, she added, "Tommy, this is my friend Martin Ellingham. Martin works and lives here in London so I come up to see him occasionally. Martin, this is my old friend Thomas Woodvine."

Martin grunted a brief "Hello Thomas," nodding his head slightly.

"Nice to meet you Martin. Call me Tom. Only my mother calls me Thomas, and only my oldest friends, like Louisa here, still call me Tommy."

Louisa continued the introduction. "Tommy majored in biology in college, was going to teach sixth form life sciences, but Holly tells me you went on to get your PhD. So tell us what you are up to these days?"

"Research mostly. I went on to get my PhD in biology and now I'm on the faculty and do basic research at university."

Martin perked up, always interested in any research that might relate even peripherally to medicine. "How interesting. What precisely is your area of study?"

"It's fairly esoteric. I'm a mycologist. We study fungi and their possible uses in medicine. I'm specifically interested in their use as immunosuppressants. Those are drugs that keep the body from rejecting transplanted organs." Tom spoke slowly and simply. Most people were not really interested in the details of his research and politely nodded their heads with this simple explanation and discreetly changed the subject.

Martin answered somewhat impatiently. "Yes, I am familiar with the use of fungi in the development of immunosuppressants. What specifically are you working on at the moment?"

Tom was taken aback, but also pleasantly surprised. "Martin, tell me what it is that you do and how it is that you understand fungi and their use in immunology."

In his usual succinct manner, Martin replied, "Surgeon. Vascular specialist."

"Ah, well, yes, I can see why you might be interested." Tom responded by giving Martin a quick overview of his current research findings, and Martin engaged him with further probing questions. Louisa listened to this exchange, again interested in seeing Martin with his professional curiosity aroused. After a few minutes when the discussion revolved around words of six or more syllables that were completely foreign to her, she spoke up to excuse herself. "Martin, excuse me, but I'm just going to go over and get one last glass of wine."

"Oh let me get it for you, Louisa." Turning back to Tom, he pulled one of his cards from his wallet and handed it to Tom, "Thomas, I'd like to hear more about your work. Perhaps we can get together for dinner one evening in the next few weeks. Let me give you my card."

"Yes, I'd enjoy talking with you again. And here's my card, Martin. I'll look forward to hearing from you."

"White?" Martin asked Louisa solicitously raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, thank you. I'll meet you back at the table in just a few minutes."

Turning her attention back to Tom, she asked, "Do you have a family yet? Or anyone special?"

"Yes, she's around her somewhere. Would you like to meet her?"

"I would; that would be lovely."

As he looked around to find his wife, he asked Louisa, "Martin's quite an interesting fellow. I rarely meet people who understand my work, let alone want to know more about it. I'm looking forward to meeting up with him soon. Have you and he been together long?"

"Yes Martin is rather special isn't he? We met last summer and hit it off right away. But with him in London and me in Cornwall, it's a bit difficult."

He noticed the wistfulness in her voice, and trying to reassure her, he said, "If it's meant to be it will all work out in the long run, I'm sure. Maybe you'll end up here in London and we can get together. I'm sure you and Amy would get along great." They had just reached a group of young women discussing infants and teething problems and Tom introduced Louisa to his wife, a friendly woman who looked about six months into her pregnancy. "Thanks for rescuing me. I'm sure I'll be interested in helping my baby through the trials of teething eventually, but right now I'd rather talk about the practicalities of tube tops in winter than the miseries of swollen gums."

Louisa laughed along with her, liking her immediately and thinking she may already be gathering a circle of friends in London should she end up living there.

Meanwhile, Martin made his way over to the bar. He picked up a glass of wine for Louisa and a glass of water for himself. He had noticed that the meal had contained quite a bit of salt and he found himself more thirsty than usual. As he was making his way back to their table, Dennis waylaid him wanting to have a quick chat. "Martin, I've been wanting to talk with you all evening about the lovely Louisa. How are you and she getting along?"

Martin had already developed an intense dislike of Louisa's ex and he had no desire to engage the man now. "Just fine. Now if you'll excuse me." Martin stepped to the side to escape any further conversation, but Dennis was determined to have some fun at Martin's, and ultimately, Louisa's expense, and he cut him off. "Just wanted to compare notes so to speak."

"What?" Martin was confused.

"Our Louisa's quite a right little goer in the bedroom, don't you think?"

Blustering, Martin blurted, "That is absolutely none of your business."

"_Oh this is going to be so easy. Wherever did she find this pompous prig? She must be desperate._" Dennis was enjoying winding up Martin. "She was always up for anything I suggested. Let me tell you some of the things we got up to. You might want to try them yourself." At this point, Dennis started to describe in lurid and vulgar detail Louisa's prowess in the bedroom.

Martin was incensed, cut him off before he finished and growled, "You noxious, malevolent little rat. Go slink back to the sewer you crawled out of!" He tossed the drinks into Dennis' face and turned to leave.

Dennis grabbed his arm and turned him around, angry now, "Hey, it was all in good fun mate." With that he threw a punch which landed on Martin's left cheek. Martin stumbled backwards, but managed to swing his foot under Dennis' right leg as he turned to walk away, causing Dennis to trip and fall flat onto the floor, pulling several onlookers down with him. "All in good fun, mate," Martin muttered as he made his way out of the room holding his handkerchief to his cheek.

The resulting noise and commotion caught the attention of the entire room, and all turned to see what was happening. Louisa was still talking with Tom and Amy when they heard the resulting clamour. Tom was almost as tall as Martin and could see Martin walking away from what appeared to be the centre of the hubbub. "Louisa, I think Martin may have been hurt. I can see him leaving the hall. Maybe we should go check on him." He led them through the crowd to where he had seen Martin moving. Out in the hallway, he headed towards the men's toilets, "I'll just check in here. Wait for me."

Tom entered and found Martin pressing a cold towel against his cheek, wiping away the blood that was oozing from the cut on his cheek. "That doesn't look good. Would you like some ice? Might help with any swelling?"

Martin was embarrassed, but also grateful for the help and to be able to hide out for a little longer. "Yes, that would be helpful. Thank you."

Tom stuck his head out the door, "Martin's in here. His cheek is bleeding and he has some significant bruising. Amy, could you go find some ice to put on his cheek. Ask a waiter, or better yet, go straight to the kitchen and get some crushed ice and a serviette."

As Amy nodded and headed off to find some ice, Louisa looked on wanting to help, but not sure what she could do. "Is there anyone else in there? Can I come in and help? I'll go find Walter; he's a GP. Maybe he can help." Louisa ran back into the reception. By the time Louisa re-entered the reception hall, several of Dennis' friends had picked him up and taken him to a table in a corner where he was excitedly telling his version of the fight so she was unaware that he had been involved in the altercation.

The DJ had calmed the crowd and had them doing the Macarena, a silly dance that required some complicated moves that restored the crowd to a happy conviviality. She quickly located Jeanine and Walter. "Walter, I need you to come and take a look at Martin. He's bleeding and may need help. We've sent for some crushed ice, but can you take a look at him? Please?" Holly tried to get Louisa's attention to tell her about Dennis, but Louisa's focus was on getting help for Martin, and she led Walter out of the room quickly.

As Walter entered the toilet, Martin scowled at him, "What are you doing here?"

"Louisa told me that you were bleeding and she was concerned that you might need help." He turned towards Tom and introduced himself. Tom had managed to get some details of the fight from Martin and was able to tell Walter that one of the other guests had punched Martin in the face, although he did not have the details of what had led up to the incident.

Leering at Walter over the ice pack, Martin growled, "I have no desire to discuss the matter. It's just a superficial flesh wound and I'm perfectly capable of taking care of it myself. I've staunched the bleeding and washed it thoroughly with soap and warm water. Thomas managed to find some ice which, as you can see, I'm applying to the affected area."

"Let me take a look anyway. If you don't, Louisa will want to come in and see for herself. Do you want that?" Walter was accustomed to dealing with fist-fight participants and knew they could remain belligerent even after the fight was over. He was surprised to discover that a professional man's reaction was not all that different from the construction and road crew labourers that he usually found himself ministering to.

As the reality of what had just taken place began to sink in, Martin was both humiliated and furious. The last thing he wanted was Louisa to see him in this condition. 'Alright, take a look, but don't let her in here."

Walter gently lifted the ice pack from Martin's cheek and inspected the wound. 'You're right. I don't think it will need stitches, but it could use some antibiotic cream and a plaster. Not likely to scar. Is your nose bleeding as well?"

"It was, but that has stopped. Perhaps you could see if the kitchen first aid box has a plaster that I could use."

"Yes. Uh Martin, I think you should go talk with Louisa while I look for the first aid box. You're going to have to face her eventually. I'll tell her you're okay, but I know she will want to see for herself. I noticed a quiet alcove just down the hall where you should find some privacy to sit and talk. Then you might want to go home where you will be more comfortable."

Walter guided Martin out of the lavatory and indicated the alcove where they could sit until he came back with the first aid supplies. Louisa was all concern and tenderness, "Oh Martin whatever happened?" She stroked his hair and his right cheek carefully avoiding the bruises.

"Your ex, that pathetic excuse for a human being threw a punch at me." Martin growled, mortified by the entire situation.

Astounded and confused, Louisa shook her head, "Why would he do that?"

Martin didn't respond, but hung his head and pressed the ice pack more firmly to his cheek.

Walter came back quickly and applied the antibiotic ointment and a plaster to Martin's still oozing cheek. "There, that should hold it till you get home. Can I help you get your coats and get out to the car. Martin, you should keep that ice pack applied to your cheek until you arrive home. Louisa, are you up to driving Martin's car back to his flat, or should I help you out?"

"Louisa can't drive. She's had too much wine. I'm perfectly capable of driving us both back. We'll be fine."

"I've only had a few glasses of wine and none in the past hour or so. I'm sure I'm fine to drive."

Martin was adamant, "No. You are not accustomed to driving a large car in the city. I'll be fine."

Walter helped the two of them get to the cloakroom without meeting up with the other guests, and offered to help them to the car, but Martin was insistent that they were fine on their own. Louisa turned to Walter before going out the door, "Thank you so much for your help. And will you thank Tommy for us as well. I do hope we can get together again soon. Say good-bye to Jeanine and the others at our table for me, will you?"

"Of course. I hope to see you both again soon."

"Louisa, let's go before anyone else sees us. No need for a fuss."

'Yes, of course."

They slowly made their way towards the car park, Martin holding the ice against his cheek with one hand and giving his other arm to Louisa, who was teetering on the uneven brick walkway in her three inch heels. 'I told you those shoes were impractical."

"Martin, don't go there. They are only a problem because this pavement is so uneven."

"Hmmmph"

Martin suddenly slid on something soft. As the definite smell of dog excrement floated up through his nasal passages and into the olfactory nerve, he bellowed "Oh God ...could this evening get any worse?!" He looked around for some grass to wipe his shoes, but found none.

Louisa quietly handed him a small packet of tissues from her evening bag.

**Authors note: While Dennis is portrayed in my story as he worst kind of malpractice attorney, it must be said that there are many very good honorable people who represent those who have been harmed for whatever reason due to medical errors or negligence. I do not want to imply in any way that all malpractice attorneys or solicitors fall into his category. **


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47**

The ride home was quiet. Martin insisted on driving, and as they got closer to central London, Louisa had to admit to herself that she was glad not to be at the steering wheel. Gradually her curiosity began to gnaw at her; and after a few minutes driving in silence, she softly asked him what happened. Martin, never loquacious, was in even less of a mood to talk tonight, and he replied with a grunt without even a glance in her direction. She realized that she was not likely to get any kind of satisfactory answer while they were in the car; she would have to wait until they were in his flat.

They parked the car and took the elevator to Martin's floor. They were both glad that the key to Martin's flat also operated the elevator so that they could by-pass the evening porter, probably Joe Penhale who would have been overly solicitous and likely to make things worse for Martin. He tended to leer at Louisa whenever they entered in the evening; it made her uncomfortable and she could only imagine his behaviour if he noticed Martin's injuries.

Once inside Martin's flat and out of their coats, Louisa headed to the kitchen to make some tea. Martin had gingerly removed his shoes and placed them in a plastic bag to take to the shoe cleaners the next day while Louisa had kicked her shoes off as soon as they entered and left them lying next to the front door. This habit of hers annoyed Martin even when he was in the best of humours, but this wasn't one of those times. "Louisa, your shoes!" he barked. She popped her head out the kitchen door, looked up at Martin, then down at the shoes to which he was sternly pointing, and back up at Martin. "Yes, yes. I'll get to them as soon as I get the kettle on. Come in here and get some ice for your face. We want to minimize the bruising."

He looked down at her shoes, then back to the kitchen and back to the shoes, and even more irritated by her failure to immediately rectify the problem, he stomped to the kitchen and hissed, "We've discussed this before ... A place for everything and everything in its place ... and the door is not the place for your shoes."

"Give it a rest Martin. I said I'd take care of it in just a minute. Now come in here and get some ice."

Impatiently she tapped her fingers on the counter. Martin continued to glare at her, finally conceding, "Yes." She was right; he needed to tend to his face so the shoes would have to wait. He was not looking forward to the comments, questions, and snickers come Monday morning as he began his workweek. He would ignore the shoes for the moment in favour of reducing the swelling on his face.

"I don't want any tea," he told Louisa as he rummaged about for some ice to treat his cheek and eye.

"Well, I'm fixing some for you anyway. You don't have to drink it." She carried the tea into the lounge and placed the teacups on a table. She went back into the kitchen where Martin was leaning against the worktop where he had wrapped some ice tightly in a tea towel and was now pressing it against his cheek. She led him into the lounge. Finally they settled on the sofa, Louisa with her tea cup, Martin holding the ice on his eye.

Gently Louisa asked, "Now will you tell me what happened?"

"Your leech of an ex, the ambulance chaser hit me." Martin sounded like a truculent little boy.

'Yes, that's what you told me. But why did he hit you?" Louisa had just been through this same conversation with one of her students, Billy Carlisle last week after he and Adam Wright had been in a fight. _"And why did Adam hit you?"_

"I might have called him a noxious malevolent little rat," Martin admitted.

"You didn't!" Louisa stifled a laugh.

"Umm."

"Really, you called him a rat? Why would you call him that? Just because you think he is an ambulance chaser?"

"No, I called him a _noxious, malevolent_ little rat. He's worse than your ordinary back alley rat. And I might have thrown some drinks in his face."

Louisa was stunned; this was the kind of behaviour that she had been hearing was typical of Martin, but which she had never experienced. "Martin," she began quietly. "This doesn't sound like you. You have always seemed so very refined and gentlemanly to me. Whatever could have provoked you to do that, to say that?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Louisa sat back and thought about it. Either it was something truly awful that he didn't think she should hear, or it was something terribly embarrassing. Either way, she needed to know, so ... back to her primary school headmistress tactics. "Martin, I need to understand why you would behave this way so I can determine how I should react. I need you to tell me everything that happened."

Sighing with the realization that he wasn't going to get any sleep until he gave her some kind of explanation, Martin explained. "I had just picked up your wine and a glass of water for me when he came up to me ... said he wanted to compare notes about you. Then he started telling me these terrible things that you and he used to do. He even laughed about it ... said I should try them with you. And that's when I threw the drinks in his face."

"What terrible things? I can't imagine what he could have told you." Louisa was confused.

"In the bedroom ... I can't tell you. I won't tell you."

"We never did anything 'in the bedroom', as you put it that you and I haven't done. Actually in the short time you and I have been together, we have done a few more things 'in the bedroom' than he and I ever thought of." Louisa had been somewhat surprised at Martin's inventiveness 'in the bedroom'.

"That's not what he said."

"I don't know what he said, and maybe I don't want to know; but believe me, we did not do anything more than any other normal unimaginative young couple would do."

Martin took that in and silently thought about it, unable to banish the image of Louisa and that rat engaged in the deviant behaviour he had described. He was beginning to regret that he had ever stopped in that hospital hall to talk with her. What had he been thinking? It was all too hard; he was no good at relationships and he never should have become involved with her to begin with. Life was so much easier when it was just medicine and his clocks. He wanted to leave, escape this confrontation, but he couldn't; it was his home, not hers.

Several minutes passed and Louisa's patience was wearing thin. "Martin, talk to me, please."

Tired and emotionally spent, he spat out what he had been thinking all evening, "How could you have ever married someone like that?"

Recognising the vitriol in his voice, she knew she had to stay calm to avoid a huge row and this conversation was important, the most important one they had ever had. "It was a long time ago. We grew up together and were best friends. Everyone always assumed we'd marry after university. I always assumed we'd marry, and we did. But I think Dennis had already started to change and I think he may have already been cheating on me even before we married. I'm not sure. It was obvious he wasn't ready. And truth be told neither was I. We filed for divorce before our first year was up."

Her calm words did nothing to soothe the betrayal he felt. "I just can't get the image of the two of you together out of my mind. How can I stay with you knowing you've been with him?" Martin could feel his anger rising and knew he was losing control, but he couldn't hold it in any longer. His face twisted into a knot of distain, and unable to hide the disgust in his voice, he growled, "How could you be with a slimy worm of a man like him? What kind of woman are you?" There. It was out; she needed to know he was ready to call it quits.

So here it was, Martin at his infamous worst, unleashing his fury against her. Doing her best to keep calm, she replied in a low even voice, trying to keep the hurt and the tears in check. "Martin, you're being unfair. I told you he wasn't like that when I knew him and we did nothing out of the ordinary."

"Humph. Why would he say those things. Hmm? Tell me that."

She stifled a sob and took a deep breath before answering him. "Because he's a mean-spirited bully. He was angry when I filed for divorce all those years ago, and now that I've found someone, he wants to ruin it for me. He's probably gloating now, knowing I'm having to defend myself to you." She could think of no other reason why Dennis would invent such wicked lies to tell Martin.

Martin grunted as the thought flickered through his mind that perhaps her ex had fabricated all those accusations just to cause a rift between him and Louisa. The man _was_ a bully just like all the nasty delinquents that made his life miserable in school. Still how could he know for certain. He realised that he really didn't know her well; they had only been acquainted six months or so. For all he knew she slept with every man she had ever met. He had been too quick to accept Aunty Joan's assurance of her good character.

A few minutes passed in silence between them till Louisa spoke, "Martin ... I cannot deny that I was with him for a while. I told you when we first met that I had been married." She paused, then continued when he didn't reply. "We both have a past. I don't even want to know how many women you've been with ... or what you did with them."

"Huh! Not that many I can assure you."

"Maybe not, but you are an incredibly skilled lover. You have to have had some experience to be such a virtuoso."

Secretly he was pleased that she appreciated his efforts, but he downplayed his skill nonetheless. "It's all a matter of understanding female anatomy."

"Oh no you don't! No one can learn the techniques you use from a book; you have to have had some practice...and feedback if you know what I mean." She was certain that he had had lots of practice and she wanted him to know that she didn't hold it against him.

Images of Edith and her frank instruction as to how to please her, crossed his mind, still fresh after all these years. This was not a topic he was going to discuss, not tonight if ever. Exhausted and subdued, he rose from the couch and said, "I'm tired. It's been a long arduous evening. I'm going to bed." He refused to look at her, just carried his ice pack into the kitchen sink and slowly trudged back to his room.

She stood to follow him uncertain how to convince him of her innocence. "Martin?"

Without looking back he bid her a curt "Good night" and firmly closed the door.


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48**

Martin closed the door behind him and made his way to the en-suite, where he switched on the light to begin his evening ablutions. He leaned over the sink and stared into the mirror. The damage to his cheek and eye was as bad as he had feared. It was unlikely that the bruising would fade before rounds tomorrow evening. Just as bad, they had arranged to meet Aunt Ruth for brunch tomorrow morning. After their row this evening, he would undoubtedly be putting Louisa on a train back to Cornwall in the morning; he would have to explain it all to Aunt Ruth eventually. One didn't cancel an engagement with Aunt Ruth without an acceptable explanation.

"_Bugger it all_" he thought as he began to compose in his mind the complications likely to arise from the evening's row. He chased all thoughts from his mind as he began to brush his teeth and wash his face. As he walked to the wardrobe to hang up his clothes, he thought he heard the door to the guest room close. Louisa ... what was he going to do? He had been happy ... really happy perhaps for the first time in his life, or at least hopeful. Was it possible that she had participated in those deviant activities when she was married to that hideous scoundrel? Or was it as she had said, that she and he had done more things in the bedroom than she had done before. It was true that he had introduced a few different positions in their lovemaking, nothing particularly unusual; after all, he didn't want her to think that their sex life would devolve into a tedious routine. But she seemed more than willing to go along with his suggestions, although as he thought back on it she had expressed surprise once or twice when he had maneuvered her in a way she hadn't expected.

He felt drained, emotionally spent by the events of this evening ... and confused. They really needed to talk about what happened and his reaction. God ... talking about emotions. Even recognising his emotions for what they were was difficult; how could he talk about them with her. He wasn't even sure why he had reacted the way he had. Well ... yes he did know; he remembered how Edith always wanted to engage in "sexual experimentation" when they were together, activities that frequently made him uncomfortable. It wasn't until later, after she had left him, preferring her career over marriage to him, that he discovered that many of those "experiments" were considered outside the norm, even though he knew the "party line" stated that nothing was aberrant as long as all parties involved were adults and consenting. Even so, he could still hear Edith's wheedling, "Come on Ellingham, don't be shy; it'll be exciting." He always gave in eventually, but it often made him feel unclean. He didn't want to think of Louisa as being the same kind of woman as Edith.

He really should go to her and let her know that he wasn't himself this evening and let her know he wanted to try to work things out in the morning. But she had already retired. Best to let her sleep; they both needed their rest. He switched the light off and settled into a restless sleep.

After Martin had curtly bid her "good night", Louisa stood staring at his closed door uncertain whether to follow him or leave him be. He had said he was tired, and truth be told he looked exhausted, as was she. Perhaps it would be best if they both took some time to think over what had happened, or at least get some rest so they could speak to each other civilly. She busied herself clearing up the tea cups and Martin's ice pack, and made sure there was plenty of ice if he needed it later tonight or in the morning. She picked up her shoes which were still lying near the door and placed them in her wardrobe; those three inch heels were uncomfortable and she always tossed them off as soon as she got home, but she couldn't admit that to Martin. He had warned her of their unsuitability at the start of the evening and she didn't want to admit to his face that he might be right. She thought she might pack her bag to prepare to return to Portwenn in the morning, but decided to prepare for bed instead and she headed into the guest room and closed the door, quickly cleaned the makeup from her face, brushed her teeth and crawled under the previously unused bedding hoping to get some rest.

As the night wore on, she found herself unable to sleep even though she was spent from the turn the evening had taken. Over and over her mind examined every aspect of what had happened, Martin's accusations and his hateful words. Michael had warned her he would turn on her. The gossips in the ladies' room that evening had described his temper and how vile he could be to staff at hospital, and now she had experienced it herself. But it wasn't his nasty words or the tone of his voice that really had upset her. It was the fact that he believed Dennis and hadn't even considered her denial. How could he believe someone he had just met and not her? That was where the hurt lay.

He knew she had been married before; she knew he had been engaged. This was the twenty-first century; no one who made it out of their teens was expected to be pure as the driven snow. She really didn't think that was it. It had to be a combination of Dennis' occupation and his accusation that they had engaged in some kind of deviant sexual practice. Or was there more to it? She had no idea, but she wasn't going to let him end it without more explanation.

End it ... was this the end of her relationship with Martin? She really had grown to love him, to love his quiet steadiness, what she thought was his reliability. She had found herself daydreaming about married life with him, having children, spending time in London with long holidays in Cornwall, the children playing on the farm and exploring the beaches and rock pools. But now it all looked hopeless.

If only they could have slept in the same bed, perhaps they could have found solace in each other's presence. But he forcefully closed the door, a clear signal for her to stay out. Crying into her pillow, feeling bereft, she finally slipped into a fitful sleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night, she awoke and could hear him crying out "Noooo ...nooooo". Then a moaning sound and again "noooo, noooo, not again." She lay there wondering if she should check on him or if he would resent her interference. When after a few more minutes, she heard him moaning again, she got up and went to his door. Opening it slightly, she peeked in and whispered, "Martin, are you alright? Can I help?"

He was holding his pillow over his face, rocking back and forth. When he heard her voice, he looked up, and murmured hopefully, "Louisa?"

"Yes. I heard you cry out and was worried."

Again he said, "Louisa? Is that you?"

She walked over to the bed, leaned over and stroked his arm, "Of course it's me. Who else would it be?"

"I woke up and you weren't here, and I thought ... I thought..." he sounded confused.

"I didn't think you wanted me in here when you shut the door behind you. I was in the guest room." She explained gently, and then curious, she asked. "What did you think?"

He was not fully awake when she entered the room, but was now completely conscious and alert and remembered how the evening ended. The image of Louisa and Dennis that had followed him from the lounge earlier reappeared in his mind and with it the details of their conversation. If only he could erase that image, if only they could go back to what they had had before that horrible vindictive little man had invaded their happiness. If only he hadn't lost his temper. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, "I don't know. I wasn't really awake."

"But you're okay now? Should I go back to bed?"

"No. I mean yes. But not there ... stay here." When he awoke and she wasn't there, he had thought that the past seven months had been another dream, that she wasn't real. He didn't want that shock again; he wanted her close to reassure himself that she was real and not a dream. He realised as soon as he saw her leaning over him that his reaction to the accusations her ex had made was excessive and unkind at best.

She hesitated, not because she didn't want to be with him, but because she didn't want him to think that he could shut her out and that she would just be waiting for him to call her back. He needed to know how much it hurt her. She pulled a few steps away from the bed. "I don't know if I can right now. You said some very nasty and hurtful things to me tonight. You shut me out and I thought you didn't want me anymore. I was, am still, very hurt, and to be honest I'm not sure if I can ever be with you if you are going to treat me that way."

"_Oh God_" he thought, _"I suppose it was inevitable I would ruin it._" He hung his head "Please Louisa. I just want you close."

"You said you couldn't stay with me knowing I had been with him."

"Yes ... I mean no. Can you just come to bed and we can sort this in the morning?" He reached out and grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the bed. She resisted slightly but then he wrapped his arms around her waist and she placed her hands on his shoulders as he lay down rolling her on top of him. She pushed up with her arms to look in his face, but he buried his head in her neck and hugged her, gently caressing her back working his way down to her bum. He raised his head and searched out her mouth with his lips, kissing her tenderly. She could feel him becoming aroused, and smiling to herself, she pushed against him again and said, "Martin, I'll stay, but I'm not having sex with you until we resolve what happened between us tonight. I can't just ignore your harsh words and accusations without some kind of apology and assurance that you will never speak to me that way again."

He moved his hands from her bottom to lightly hold her face, then kissed her again, gently. "Right."

She rolled off of him, lying on her back next to but not touching him. She reached out for his hand, whispering, "in the morning"

He rolled onto his side and placed his other hand over hers and murmured back, "Yes".


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49**

**Dear readers, real life has been very full this past month, mostly in a good way, with little time to write, and this chapter needed lots of time to get the tone just right. I hope you find it satisfactory. More to come in the next few days.**

When Martin woke the next morning he found himself spooned up against Louisa, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist with her right hand clutching his. Martin realised as he watched her sleeping next to him that Sunday morning that he didn't want to lose her, even though he was still having trouble exorcising the image of her and that rat in bed together. He was tempted to wake her by kissing her neck and caressing her breasts, hoping that sexual passion would heal the rift he had caused; but as he stared at her sleeping innocently next to him, he thought better of it. She had told him last night that there was to be no sex until they had resolved their argument. He rose and decided to fix her breakfast even though they would be meeting Aunt Ruth for brunch later.

Louisa woke to the smell of coffee brewing and bacon cooking and thought to herself that Martin was probably trying to make amends by cooking bacon for her. She had bought some the day before as a treat for herself during the week, knowing that he wouldn't cook it for himself. Well that was all very nice, but he was going to have to do more than fix a wonderful breakfast before all was forgiven. She finally rose and made her way into the kitchen, greeting him with a quiet "good morning". He stepped over to her and reached out to place a soft kiss on her cheek. Looking into her eyes with a gently questioning expression, he also bid her "good morning".

"I've prepared a light breakfast, fruit and toast and bacon. Are you hungry?" He kept his eyes firmly fixed on hers, avoiding the subject that was foremost in both their minds.

Not shifting her gaze from his and relieved not to have to start that discussion just yet, she replied politely, "Yes, I can see that. It looks very nice."She turned and took two plates down from the cupboard, handed one to him and said in as neutral a tone as possible, "Shall we eat then?"

"Yes. You first." He indicated she should serve herself and then followed suit, omitting the bacon from his plate and sat down across from her at the table. They ate in silence each occasionally looking at the other, each knowing that the difficult part of the morning still lay ahead. As they were finishing up, Louisa broached the topic, "Breakfast was delicious. Thank you." She paused for a moment, placing her utensils on her plate. Keeping her eyes focused on her plate, she asked almost in a whisper, "Were you trying to make amends for last night?"

"um ..." It certainly was part of his plan, but he wasn't sure how to reply. There was something in her tone. As a delaying tactic to the inevitable conversation, he rose to refill his coffee cup, and asked, "More tea?"

She looked up at him with a shy smile, amused at his attempt to gain time, to gather his thoughts, "Yes, please."

He went into the kitchen and refilled both their cups, placed Louisa's on the table in front of her, then resumed his place across from her and took a sip of his coffee.

Louisa picked up her now hot tea and held it with both hands finding comfort in its warmth, then put it down and reached across the table to gently caress his cheek. "Your cheek and eye look terrible. Does it hurt?"

"A little" He glanced down, then looked back at her with eyes full of remorse. "Louisa, I'm ... uh..."

"Yes?" She looked back at him, "I know..." She placed her hands flat on the table and briefly drummed her fingers. "I guess it's time we discussed last night's fiasco." She looked up at him, her mouth set firmly in place, but with a certain kindness in her eyes. He gulped and replied "Yes."

"You first." She looked at him expectantly.

He looked back, uncertain where to begin. "Uhh ..."

She realised that it was asking too much of him to start. Again she resorted to her head teacher tactics. "Okay then. I think I can start." She looked up at him and saw relief tinged with fear in his face, "_Best be gentle Louisa."_ she advised herself. "Let me start at the beginning. Dennis made malicious remarks about me, you threw drinks in his face and he hit you. So far so good." She grimaced, "Well ... Not so good for your face, but good for defending me."

"Mm ..." Martin nodded.

She continued, "and I'm glad you told me what happened."

"Good."

"And I can understand why you were angry."

"No, I wasn't angry".

"You seemed angry to me."

"Um..." He dropped his head in shame as he thought _"No_, _I was humiliated for her to see me that way. ___ I couldn't even defend myself from her ex-husband. I'll never be the man she needs._ It was just like my school days, being bullied. Even now I can hear my mother's constant admonitions when I would run to her for comfort, "you're always being bullied and teased. You can't expect me to protect you. Why can't you be more like your father?' And then my Father's words of disgust at his son's weakness, my weakness ...'a sniveling coward is what you are ... learn to fight like a man ... you're a disgrace to the name of Ellingham'. "_

He kept quiet unable to voice his misery to her so she continued, failing to recognise the humiliation in his body language. "What I don't understand is why you believed Dennis, why you refused to believe me when I said we did nothing the least bit out of the ordinary." She wasn't able to keep the hurt out of her voice as much as she tried, and she continued, "And then you implied that I was some kind of immoral woman. How could you say that to me?"

"Perhaps I overreacted."

"Perhaps? No perhaps about it. I can hear your voice even now, 'What kind of woman are you?'" She rose and turned away from him so he wouldn't see the tears welling up in her eyes, then moved a few steps away from the table, "How could you accuse me of being a ... a ... I don't know ... some kind of harlot?"

He jumped up and stepped around the table toward her "Nooo ... noooo. That's not what I think." He reached for her arm and turned her to face him and realised that she was crying.

"What do you think then?" She was sobbing and looked at him through her tears.

_"Oh God, now I've made her cry. I knew I would muck it all up_." He stood there for a moment wanting to pull her to him and comfort her, but he hesitated uncertain whether she would welcome his embrace. Instead, he reached out to stroke her cheek, "Don't cry Louisa. I never meant to hurt you. I was confused last night. Let me get you a tissue."

She took the tissue from his hand and dried her eyes. "You were confused?"

"Yes," He took her arm and led her back to the table. "Please let me try to explain."

She sat back down, "Okay."

"I wasn't angry last night. When we left the wedding, I was embarrassed."

"Embarrassed?" She thought about this for a moment, and although she knew for certain that a proud and distinguished man like Martin would be loathe to have engaged in a fight, still she felt compelled to ask, "Why?"

He couldn't really explain it so he continued, "And I was confused. Why would that man say those things about you if they weren't true? And I know that you said nothing like that happened and I believe you. But last night all I could see was the image of you and him doing those horrible things. And I couldn't understand why he would tell me something like that if it never happened. Why would he do that?"

"I told you. He wanted to break us up."

"Yes, but I didn't know that. I couldn't get that picture out of my mind, and I was tired and confused and my head hurt and I was embarrassed. I know that's not an excuse for my outburst. I was wrong and I wish I could take it back. Can we just try to forget it all happened and go back to the way we were ... please ... Louisa?"

She listened intently to his explanation, wanting to move past this roadblock to their relationship as much as he. She knew he wasn't always able to interpret social cues and that Dennis' comments undoubtedly did confuse him, but he was right, that wasn't an excuse for his treatment of her. She needed him to understand just how hurt she had been. She gave herself a few moments to compose her reply, then said, "I understand that it was a very difficult evening for you, and I would very much like to move past this as well, but I need you to understand just how upset I was that you refused to believe me, that you have so little trust in me or respect for me that you would believe even for a second his accusations."

"Oh, Louisa," he cried. "I do believe you. I do respect you ... more than any woman I have ever met."

"Oh" It was comforting to hear him speak his feelings for her so passionately, but ... "It didn't seem that way last night. And I meant what I said. If you ever ... ever ... speak to me so harshly ever again, I will leave you. I cannot be with a man who would treat me that way."

"Yes."

The worry lines in his face deepened and she knew he had taken her admonishment to heart. "I'm glad we understand each other." She leaned over the table and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Seeing the concern still reflected in his eyes, she rose and went to him, "Get up please. I think you desperately need a hug."

"Yes." He rose and enfolded her in a gentle, but tentative embrace while she wrapped her arms tightly around his middle and buried her face in his shoulder. She could feel the tension in his body, and she started to stroke his back in an effort to soothe his emotions, but without much effect, so she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him tenderly on the mouth, then reached up to lightly stroke his bruised cheek. "There kissed and made up. Are we okay now?"

"Yes." He strengthened his embrace, shielding her from the tears that were escaping from his eyes. Did he dare to tell her that his mind was still consumed with images of her and her ex in compromising positions and that he couldn't seem to shake them. He knew he was being irrational, but those images wouldn't disappear no matter how he tried to expunge them. No, it was best not to share that problem with her, at least not now. Their reconciliation was still too fresh.

Eventually she pulled away, "Shall we start the washing up? We will need to get ready to go meet Ruth soon. It's almost eleven."

"Yes." He released her and they took their dishes to the sink where Martin loaded them into the dishwasher. He needed some space to collect his thoughts before meeting up with Ruth. As he started to scrub the bacon pan, he told her, "I can finish this. Why don't you go take your shower and get ready."

She glanced around the kitchen and seeing that there really was little left to do, she replied, "Okay. I'll do that. We probably don't want to keep Ruth waiting."

"No."

When she had finished dressing for their brunch with Ruth, she found Martin sitting on the sofa in the lounge, immaculate in a navy suit, white shirt with blue and grey striped tie, and as always she caught her breath at the sight of him. He was scanning the morning paper, but he still appeared tense, holding himself even more stiffly than usual and the worry lines in his face had deepened. She sat down next to him and placed her hand gently on his thigh. "Martin, there's something still bothering you, isn't there?"

"Mm ..." How could she tell? He prided himself on his ability to mask his emotions, but she always seemed to see through his stoic facade.

"Do you want to tell me?" She asked this with some hesitation, not wanting to push him any further than she had already if he wasn't up to it.

"Mm ..." He clasped his hands together between his knees and shrugged his shoulders, staring at the floor. They sat there together in silence for a few minutes and then he spoke, "I don't want to upset you any more than I have."

"Oh ... I'm not sure how to respond to that."

"it's not your fault. It's nothing that you have done. You need to know that."

"Okay. That's good to know." She had kept her hand resting lightly on his thigh throughout and now she gave it a slight squeeze.

"It's just that I can't rid my mind of that image." He continued to stare down at his shoes, then rushed to finish his thought. "That image of you and him. I know it's illogical, but I just can't ... and that's what's bothering me." There it was out, and if she left him because of it, then there was nothing that could be done.

"Mmm ... I understand. Sometimes it takes time for these things to fade. Maybe getting out will help. Maybe Aunt Ruth will have some patient anecdotes she can share with us to distract you."

"She can't break patient confidentiality." Louisa was so kind. What did he do to deserve he, he wondered.

"Well it's better than sitting in here and obsessing over it all." She spoke gently, wanting to comfort him, but knowing they both needed to take a break from the morning's serious conversation. Louisa stood up and pulled on his hand, encouraging him to stand. She took his face in both her hands and kissed him softly,"Let's go."

'Right."


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50  
**

They had kissed and made up, but there was still a certain tension between them that they were not able to overcome despite the desire both of them had to move past this terrible misunderstanding. Martin's countenance was dark, clearly troubled by the images that continued to play out in his mind and Louisa felt powerless to help. She reached for his hand as they settled into the taxi taking them to the bistro where they were to meet Ruth, and he gave it a gentle squeeze, then dropped it for the remainder of the short trip.

The inevitable fallout from Martin's confrontation with Dennis as they encountered friends and family began with Aunt Ruth. They had planned a late brunch with her shortly after one that Sunday. Neither was looking forward to Ruth's inevitable curiosity, and of course Ruth noticed Martin's black eye and bruised cheek immediately. Knowing they couldn't deny the black eye, they had decided to tell her exactly what had happened albeit in an abbreviated form, that Louisa's ex-husband and Martin had had words and that the ex had punched him. Ruth was all too familiar with Martin's acid tongue and asked point blank what he had said to provoke such a reaction. Martin just grunted, "It's over and done with. Time to move on."

Ruth was intrigued, "Martin?"

Watching them both dance around the topic, Louisa decided that it was time for her to explain, "Dennis, my ex-husband was at the wedding we attended yesterday. He made a disparaging remark about me and Martin called him a rat and then Dennis punched him."

"A _noxious, malevolent_ little rat," Martin couldn't help but chime in.

Ruth chuckled, "Ah, defending her honour were you? I hope you hit him back"

"Aunt!" Martin exclaimed. "You know I don't believe in physical violence. My oath as a doctor is to heal people, not hurt them." He paused a moment and then almost as an afterthought, he delivered one additional detail. "Of course it's possible that he may have tripped over my foot afterwards and fallen face first onto the floor. Accidents do happen"

"You didn't tell me that Dennis was hurt as well!" Louisa blurted out as an expression of surprised admiration lit up her face. Martin noticed the look of approval and pulled himself up a little straighter in his chair, his ego feeling less bruised than it had in the previous 24 hours.

Nothing got past Aunt Ruth and she had noticed Martin's reaction to Louisa's comment and then gave him a wry little smile, "Ah yes, those types of accidents happen all the time. Pity."

"Despicable ambulance chaser" muttered Martin.

"Oh ... malpractice lawyer, is he? And previously married to Louisa." She looked to him for confirmation receiving only a curt nod. "I understand"

"He wasn't a lawyer when we were married." Louisa felt compelled to defend herself. "We grew up together in Portwenn and were childhood sweethearts. ... But sometimes people change."

"Yes, they do my dear." Aunt Ruth agreed as she glanced at her nephew. This meal was going to be interesting she thought to herself; it just might provide her with some nice tidbits to share with Joan when they spoke later that evening. Ruth didn't like to think of herself as a gossip, but she knew Joanie would want to know all about this latest chapter in the Martin and Louisa saga, and for once, she had the inside track.

As they continued their meal, Ruth could sense that there was more to the incident than they had shared. Despite her gentle probing, neither added much to the story, but their body language spoke volumes to her trained eye. She wisely held her tongue and let the subject drop, but peered at each of them more intently than was usual even for her, hoping to suss out what the problem was. Louisa was a little too spritely in her discussion of the wedding and Martin was even more taciturn than usual. Even as they moved on to other topics of conversation, the uneasy ambiance remained between them. However, as they were lingering over coffee and discussing the farmhouse renovations scheduled to start the following week,she noticed that Martin had taken Louisa's hand in his under the table, and that Louisa had slipped him a shy smile. Ruth was certain that they would resolve the problem, whatever it was, most likely in the bedroom that night.

Next there was Holly. Anxious to discuss the wedding and reception and especially Louisa's early departure, Holly had called Sunday evening inviting Louisa to join her for lunch in her office the next day. Louisa agreed only after Holly promised to give her a tour of her school. When she had taught in London right after university it had been in a rough part of town where the children were dealing with difficult home lives. She wanted to see how different it was when the children came from privileged homes. Hopefully she could give Holly a quick version of Martin's skirmish and get on to more interesting topics.

"How is Martin? I heard he suffered some pretty bad bruising from Dennis' punch." Always direct, Holly got to the most interesting topic first.

"He's fine, and yes he does have quite the shiner. I can't imagine how his day is going right now. You know Martin ... well, I guess you don't really ... but he's not one to talk about himself, especially in hospital where it's strictly business. Everyone will be wanting to know how he got hurt. He'll probably just bark that it's none of their business. I told him to just say it was an accident, walked into a pantry door that was open. It will be interesting to see what he has to say tonight when he gets home." Trying to change the subject, she asked, "So how was the rest of the reception? Did I miss anything else?"

Holly laughed, "No, Martin and Dennis' fistfight was the highlight. Dennis' story was that they were returning from the bar when he casually asked if you and Martin were having a good time. He said Martin started to call him names just because he had been married to you and when Martin threw the drinks in his face and started at him, he put up his fists to defend himself, warded off Martin's blows and managed to hit him in the face. That's when Martin kicked him and he fell, cutting his face on one of the table legs."

Louisa couldn't believe the story she was hearing, and she rushed to Martin's defence. "No. That's an outrageous story. Martin would never start a fight intentionally; he's not a violent man. He says as a doctor, he took an oath to heal people not harm them. That is so completely different from what Martin told me."

Holly was enjoying herself immensely. Louisa's reaction was just as she had expected and she was anxious to hear Louisa's, or rather Martin's, account of events. "Okay," Holly answered, "What's Martin's story?"

"He said that Dennis wanted to compare notes with him about our bedroom activities and that Dennis asserted that he and I had engaged in some fairly deviant behaviour when we were married. Evidently he started to describe it all in lurid detail."

"Really? Did he give you details?"

"No, Martin is too much the gentleman to repeat anything untoward."

"Too bad. That could have been interesting." Holly leaned across her desk hoping for some lascivious details. "So did you two engage in "deviant behaviour" back in the day?" She couldn't imagine Louisa participating in anything too outré, but Dennis? He certainly seemed the willing sort. And it was possible that he had prodded Louisa to participate, at least early on in their marriage.

Louisa pulled herself together primly and chided Holly, "Of course not. I can't even imagine what he could have said, but none of it could have been true. He probably just wanted to exact some revenge on me for our divorce now that I have found someone."

"So what happened after that?"

"Martin said he called him a noxious, malevolent little rat and then threw two drinks into his face. That's when Dennis punched him."

"Dennis ended up on the floor, so Martin couldn't have been entirely innocent."

"No. He said he managed to trip Dennis as he was walking away, and that Dennis happened to fall on the floor." She grinned as she remembered Martin's sly tone as he was telling them of Dennis' 'accident'. "I do think Martin was secretly pretty proud of himself for felling him ... despite his oath to heal and do no harm."

"Hmmm ...two different versions of the fight. What do you think really happened?"

Louisa was surprised that Holly would even consider Dennis' account. "I'm certain that Martin's version is accurate. One of the things that I love about him is his integrity. I'm not sure he could tell me a lie. He is very honourable. Plus I don't think he'd risk injuring his hands by starting a fist fight. He loves being a surgeon too much to damage his hands."

Louisa continued, "And think about Dennis; he cheated on me almost from day one of our marriage ... doesn't give me much confidence in his description of events."

Holly considered, "You're right about Dennis" She remembered one of their acquaintances describing a rendezvous with Dennis even before he and Louisa married. Holly was tempted to mention it now, but Louisa was a good friend so she held her tongue knowing it would hurt Louisa even now to learn just how faithless he had been. "After what he put you through, I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him. But how can you be so certain about Martin; you've only known him how long? Six months? I'm sure he's been on his best behaviour the whole time. Maybe he's not so special. All men are the same deep down."

"Oh no. I don't think that's true at all. Martin is different." Louisa defended Martin with conviction; he might be difficult and he had hurt her deeply this past weekend, but she was certain of his integrity.

"Maybe." Holly was not easily convinced. Her experience with men had not been good. Even at the wedding she had found Oscar flirting with one of the younger bridesmaids when she returned after a trip to the ladies. And she had been sure he was special too. No, all men were the same.


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 51**

Martin arrived home Monday evening around 6:15 in a foul humour. Louisa heard him open the door, and left the dinner she was preparing to greet him, stretching up on her toes to give him a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Terrible day", he muttered as he hung up his overcoat.

She reached up and stroked his right cheek, then hugged him around his waist, "I'm so sorry. I've got dinner cooking in the kitchen. Why don't you come in and tell me what happened."

They made their way into the kitchen where Martin poured himself a glass of water. He lifted the lid of the stew pan Louisa had simmering on the hob, and sniffed, "Smells good."

"Just a simple fish and vegetable stew. It's so cold today; I thought something warm and hearty would be good."

"Yes". He glanced her way and once again felt amazed at how this incredibly beautiful, otherwise intelligent woman could possibly care for him. He felt compelled to let her know how much she meant to him and he came up behind her and gave her a hug lifting her slightly off the floor as he rubbed his cheek against hers. "Thank you for being here, especially after this weekend. I know I was difficult."

"Yes, but we put that behind us yesterday didn't we?" She turned around and planted a kiss full on his lips.

"Yes, we did." He smiled remembering how the day ended.

"And ... I'm very happy to be here as well. Now tell me about your day."

He released her, "First, is there anything I can do?"

"Um, yes. There are some greens in the fridge. Can you make a salad?"

He reached for his apron, then pulled down a salad bowl from the cupboard, opened the fridge and took out the greens.

She checked the stew, giving it a stir, then started to cut the crusty bread she had found at a gourmet bakery nearby. "Now. Did something go badly in theatre today? Or was it just staff pestering you about the bruise on your cheek?" She thought it better to refer to his cheek rather than his black eye, which was still swollen and starting to turn shades of green, yellow and purple.

"Oh just more snickering than usual and a few patients asking what happened. One of my patients had the temerity to ask if I was in a fist fight. ... But it doesn't matter. The day got better when I walked in the door." Having her here in his home greeting him at the door with dinner waiting for him made the entire ordeal of his day worthwhile. "_Let them snicker and stare all they want"._

He started to tear the greens and put them in the bowl. "Do we have any cucumbers or carrots?"

She nodded her head toward the refrigerator, "Yes - remember we bought some yesterday. They're in the crisper."

"Right" He leaned down and pulled out the crisper drawer to retrieve the extra salad ingredients."How was your day?"

"My day was good, but it got better when you walked in the door too." She reached over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "So what did you tell the patient who had the temerity to ask if you were in a fist fight?"

When he didn't respond, she looked up to see him glaring at her, one eyebrow raised and she immediately understood, "Ah ... yes. Stupid question."

She placed the bread in a basket on the table and then pulled out two shallow bowls for the stew. "I met Holly for lunch. She gave me a tour of her school. It really is a beautiful facility, and the students seemed well behaved. Different from Portwenn Primary and very different from the London school where I taught right after university. I do wonder though ... if the students in Holly's school don't have problems as well"

"What makes you think that?"

"I don't know. It's just that some of them looked sad. I guess everyone has their problems."

"Mm ... Yes." He thought about his own days in a very posh public school and how lonely and miserable he had been. He was certain that some of the students at Holly's school might be facing similar circumstances.

They sat down to their dinner, Louisa with a glass of wine and Martin with his usual glass of water. She took a sip of her wine, and then asked, "Tell me about the head of surgery, Simon ... uh ... what's his last name?"

"Yes, Simon Watson. Been chief for the last five years, general surgeon for twenty five years before that."

"Mm. So does he still perform surgery?"

"Yes, of course, and attends many surgeries others perform, as well as administration. Very demanding position."

"So why are we having dinner with him and his wife? Do you do that often?"

"Ah ... no, not often." Martin was not comfortable answering her, knowing that he would be requesting her to attend a business dinner that might be tedious at best. He had only told her that they would be having dinner with head of surgery while she was in town, and he had not elaborated the reason for the dinner.

She cocked her head, "So is there something special about tomorrow night?"

"He wants to meet you."

"He wants to meet me? Why?"

He looked down at his lap, where he had twisted his napkin into a knot, "I am required to spend occasional evenings entertaining hospital benefactors and potential donors. He thinks it would help our cause if I had you with me."

"Oh."

"I should explain. If I were to marry, my wife would be expected to attend these functions. With you as my partner, I would be strongly encouraged to bring you with me."

"Oh." All of this was new to Louisa. "Am I your partner then?"

"Simon asked me if we were serious, and I told him it was none of his business. That's when he told me it was his business and that he wanted to meet you. I think he is assuming we are."

Louisa pondered on this for a few moments. Certainly their decision to make the effort to know each other probably meant they were what one would call "serious", but she was certain that they weren't ready to commit themselves, not yet at any rate. What did Martin think? "Are we?"

He was about to take another bite of the stew, then hesitated as he looked at her, mouth open, fork suspended in the air. The conversation was getting entirely too uncomfortable, "Ah hem ... this stew is delicious." He raised the fork to his mouth and ate.

Louisa understood and accepted his diversionary tactic as she wasn't sure she was ready for this conversation just yet either; she replied, "Yes, it turned out quite well. I was worried that it might have too much garlic, but I think it's perfect."

"Yes." Martin was pleased he had successfully changed the subject. "We should mark it in the cookery book to use again."

"Where are we going to dinner tomorrow evening? I was planning to wear the same dress I wore to the wedding. Do you think it will be appropriate?"

All Martin could remember of her dress were her bare shoulders and neck, and how he wanted to caress and nibble on them all evening. He wasn't sure he wanted his boss ogling her that way. "Umm, it is a nice dress ... although ..."

"Although what?"

"Your shoulders."

"My shoulders? What about them?" Louisa feigned innocence. She knew exactly what the problem was with her shoulders, but she wanted him to tell her.

"Ahem ... Perhaps that dress is too revealing, too distracting for dinner with the chief and his wife. Did you bring anything else?"

"My shoulders are distracting? In what way?"

Finally realizing that she was teasing him, he huffed, then spluttered, "You know perfectly well ... entirely too ... uh ... alluring."

"So you liked my dress?"

"Yes... ahem." He thought for a moment, _"Say something nice, perfect opening._" "Yes, you were beautiful, you always are, but I don't think it is appropriate for dinner tomorrow."

"What if I had a matching jacket to cover up my shoulders?"

"Could you get one?"

"I have one you silly man; I wore it while we were in the church. You don't remember? I think it will be fine."

Martin couldn't contain his exasperation. "Why didn't you tell me in the first place?! This whole conversation has been ridiculous!"

"No it hasn't. I got you to tell me you liked the way I looked Saturday night."

"Mmmm", he grunted, then added, "I like the way you looked last night better." Tucking his chin against his chest, he raised his eyebrows and she could swear he leered at her.

Remembering how he had stared at her last night as he undressed her before they went to bed, she laughed, "Yes, I bet you do."

They both fell quiet for a few minutes glancing at each other occasionally with a small conspiratorial smile as they finished their meal and thought about the end of the previous day.

_After they bid their good-byes to Ruth, they decided to walk in a nearby park. It was one of those rare sunny winter days in London, and while it was cold, the air was still and the day was perfect for enjoying the charms of a winter garden, the sculptural quality of the tree trunks and branches against the sky, the deep greens of the evergreen shrubs, the red berries on the hollies and the occasional drifts of early spring flowers, snowdrops and crocus. They were delighted to see a small grove of flowering trees in full bloom in the middle of February and agreed to do some research to discover what type of trees they could be. They even passed another smaller flowering shrub with an intoxicating citrus scent that was new to them both.*_

_After a quick stop at the local grocers to gather provisions for the night's supper and the next morning's breakfast, they relaxed in the flat for a few hours, Martin reviewing his notes for a complicated procedure the next day and Louisa with a good novel. After supper when they were sitting on the sofa with their evening tea, Martin quietly remarked to Louisa, "You were right today."_

_"That's nice to know. What was I right about, hmm?"_

_"Getting out of the flat ... brunch with Ruth ... the walk in the park ... completely cleared my mind. I haven't thought about that problem I had since we left Ruth. Do you think we can put it behind us and move on?"_

_"I would like that very much, yes."_

_"Good." He put his cup down and reached to stroke her cheek with the back of his fingers. "I don't want to lose you."_

_She lowered her eyes briefly, then looked up at him intently, "Nor I you."_

_He caressed her cheek with his palm and gently kissed her and then he stood and offered her his hand. "Come."_

_He led her to the bedroom where he silently removed her jumper, laying it on the back of the chair. She loosened and removed his tie placing it on top of her jumper. Slowly, methodically and wordlessly, they took turns undressing each other, sharing only the occasional lingering look. After Martin slid the last of her garments down her legs so that she stood before him with only her long chestnut hair flowing over her shoulders, he stood up, feasting his eyes on her loveliness and marvelling at her perfection. He whispered, "Beautiful" She smiled and reached over to divest him of the last of his garments as well. Finally they embraced, finding comfort and healing as they held each other close._

Martin emerged from his reverie as he scooped the last of his stew with a piece of bread, and a faint grin crossed his face as the vision of Louisa standing in front of him last night flashed through his mind once more. She grinned back at him and then he said, "Yes .. I did like the way you looked last night ... kept me going when things got bad today." Then, prompted from his memories of the previous night's lovemaking, he offered up a suggestion, "Perhaps we can do the washing up early and you can give me a glimpse again tonight?" He looked at her hopefully, then recalled, "Oh ... I have some notes I have to review for tomorrow's procedures ... shouldn't take more than half an hour. Then I'm free."

Louisa grinned, also aroused by her memories and replied in a sultry voice, "I can do the washing up while you review your notes and then I think another "fashion show" could be arranged."

"Good"

"Yes, good."

***Author's note: For those of you who might be wondering about the plants Martin and Louisa encountered in their walk, the flowering trees are witch hazels and the shrub that has the citrus scent is undoubtedly a winter Daphne.**


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 52**

After Martin's revelation of the reason for tomorrow's dinner, Louisa found herself becoming anxious about meeting the head of surgery. She had realised whilst she was doing the washing up that this dinner was to be more than just an evening out to meet one of Martin's colleagues. It wasn't enough that she be a pleasant dinner companion; she had to prove that she was polished enough to charm potential hospital donors, and once again she felt inadequate when compared to sophisticated London women. She broached the topic with Martin as they lay in bed later that night ... after her 'fashion show' and ... after the playful activities that followed. With her head nestled on his chest, she murmured, "Martin, I'm worried about tomorrow evening."

Martin let loose a weary sigh, dreading the mandatory small talk that tomorrow's dinner would entail. "Yes, I'm not looking forward to it either, and I'm sorry to put you through it. I know it will be tedious, but Simon wouldn't take no for an answer. He is determined to meet you."

Louisa completely misunderstood Martin's misgivings. "What if he finds me too provincial, my Cornish accent too common for meeting with hospital donors. I mean look at Marcia. She is so beautiful and sophisticated. I'm nothing like that."

"Marcia?" Martin couldn't remember meeting anyone named Marcia.

"Dennis' fiancé. You met her at the reception ... before you and he ... uh ..."

"Oh, her. No you're nothing like her and that's good. Why would you want to be like her anyway?"

"She's just so elegant and refined. She probably always knows the right thing to say."

"You mean how to wheedle and fawn and talk rubbish. No, you are ten times the woman she is. Don't worry. It will be fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes." He lifted her face up to his and kissed her softly. "Very sure ... Now let's go to sleep."

The next evening, as they walked into the restaurant to meet Simon and Joyce, Louisa put on her best brave smile and greeted them both warmly. She wasn't sure what she expected, but neither Simon nor Joyce were the ultra sophisticates she had feared they would be. Yes, Simon was dressed in an elegant suit similar to those Martin always wore, but he was shorter and quite thin with rather rumpled greying hair. Joyce was about his same height with dark bobbed hair and dressed in a stylish but modest navy long-sleeved dress. They were both gracious, Simon somewhat reserved at first and Joyce pleasantly, but quietly, outgoing. Over the course of the evening, Louisa found them to be engaging dinner companions. Martin, of course, was his usual laconic self except when discussing improvements to the surgical wing facilities.

Joyce was a social worker who worked with homeless families, assisting them with finding permanent housing, work for the parents, appropriate health care when needed and temporary foster homes for the children when their parents were unable to care for them. It was emotionally difficult work and Louisa was impressed with her dedication. She had taken a break when her children were young, then eased back into work full time as the children entered school. Louisa was familiar with the challenges such a profession presented and was impressed that she was still in the front lines and had not taken a supervisory position after so many years of experience. Their common interest in the welfare of struggling families in their respective communities meant that the two women frequently turned the conversation to child welfare. As the evening wore on, it was all Simon could do to introduce other topics. After all, his main goal for the evening's dinner, crass as it may have been, was to discover whether Louisa was more outgoing than Martin and if so, would she be able to hold her own with potential donors, engage with them on any number of topics.

The first topic of conversation, however, of course, was Martin's altercation with Dennis that recent weekend. Simon brought it up right after they were seated. "So, Martin, are you going to tell us how you got that shiner?"

"Nothing to tell ... accident." He shook out his napkin and placed it on his lap.

Simon wasn't about to let it go, and he prompted Martin, "All kinds of whisperings going round hospital yesterday and today. Must be driving you barmy, eh?

"Nothing new. I just ignore the comments, always have." Louisa gazed at him with concern. What did he mean by always ignoring comments? Did this sort of thing happen often? She thought to herself that it was something to ask him later.

Simon added, "Gossip around the water cooler says you had it out with one of the more notorious medical litigators around, Dennis Manson. Obnoxious twit; I was hoping it was true. Anything to the story?"

Martin was incensed; hospitals were no better than small villages; rumours spread like wildfire, he had wondered about the grins and thumbs up signs aimed in his direction as he strode through the hallways these past two days. Louisa could see the thunder rising in his face and looked at him anxiously. He glanced at her and then at Simon, and growled "The man is no better than a slimy wart infested toad."

"Ah ... so the rumours have some basis in fact, I take it?" Simon leaned back in his chair a big grin spreading across his face. He was pleased and didn't hesitate to let them know.

Louisa took hold of Martin's hand, hoping to soothe his spirits by rubbing his palm with her fingers, and quietly gave them the story, "This Saturday evening past, Martin escorted me to a wedding for an old school chum. Unfortunately Dennis Manson was one of the guests. He and I grew up together in Portwenn, my village where I still live, and we were married for a short time ... years ago." She lowered her head as she was somewhat humiliated to admit her relationship with a man obviously held in disregard by her dinner companions, but she continued. "Dennis made some ugly remarks about me to Martin, and Martin responded by throwing some drinks in his face and calling him a ... uh ... what was it exactly?"

"Oh, I can just imagine. Martin can always come up with an excoriating word or two as the situation dictates." Simon chuckled.

"So I've heard," Joyce chimed in. "Simon frequently comes home sharing Ellingham 'bon mots'. Keeps the troops in line, or so he says."

Martin answered Louisa, "Noxious, malevolent little rat. I also told him to slink back to the sewer he crawled out of."

Louisa turned to Martin, "Oh. I don't think I heard that part of the story before." She gazed at him with a gentle encouraging smile, then continued, "So, after that, Dennis punched him. Then Martin tripped Dennis as he was walking away, causing him to fall on the floor. I hear that he cut his cheek on a table on the way down."

"Good." Martin couldn't hide his pleasure at Dennis' own injury.

"Well done, Ellingham!" Simon slapped him on his back and Martin winced. "Always knew that temper of yours would prove valuable."

Simon turned his attention to Louisa and addressed her, "So, Louisa how long have you and Martin been together? You know Mart ... he tells me it's none of my business."

Louisa gazed fondly over at Martin, who was turning red at the discussion of their relationship, "Yes, I've noticed that he does like to keep his personal life private. I was actually amazed and pleased that he had told you about me."

Martin uttered a short grunt and she noticed that he was staring down at his lap. She continued, "We really haven't known each other all that long. We met last August at hospital. A friend of mine was hurt and I was trying to find her ward. Martin came up and offered to help me find it, then asked me to dinner ... And, well, here we are." She smiled up at Martin who pursed his mouth and gazed back at her with soft expressive eyes. "Yes."

Both Simon and Joyce were speechless for a few moments as the thought sunk in of their notoriously prickly and reserved colleague offering to help a visitor find a ward and then asking her to dinner. They looked at each other in wonder. Both actions seemed completely beyond anything they would have ever expected. They had speculated to themselves before dinner that it was likely that his Aunt in Cornwall had introduced them when he went to visit her this fall.

"Well, I am surprised. That seems so totally out of character for our boy here." Simon finally exclaimed.

"So I've been told." Louisa replied with a smile, as she squeezed Martin's hand.

Martin was surprised at Louisa's response. He knew he had a reputation for being difficult, but he had always been considerate of her feelings ... well, except for Saturday night. Her gesture was comforting, but it was disconcerting to know that she was so aware of his shortcomings.

Simon continued, "I have to confess that I was astonished when pictures of the two of you started to circulate through the surgical unit, but this is even more surprising." He and Joyce had exchanged looks silently agreeing, in that way that long-married couples have, that ther_e _must be more to the story than what Louisa had told them.

"Pictures?" Louisa looked at Simon, then at Martin.

"You didn't tell her?"

"No."

Simon explained, "Martin isn't known for his active social life, far from it. When one of his registrars happened to see you two out for the evening last month, he took some pictures. It was quite a coup, you know, to capture a picture of the very private Martin Ellingham out with a beautiful young woman. Hospital lore has it that he is dedicated to his work to the exclusion of everything else, but the pictures proved otherwise. It was the talk around hospital for an entire week."

Louisa turned toward Martin for an explanation. Fortunately, the waiter brought their starters, which briefly brought their conversation to an end, for which Martin was extremely grateful. Although he knew that Simon would keep any personal details discretely to himself, he hated sharing any of his personal life.

Martin and Simon had each ordered a green salad, but Louisa and Joyce had both opted for the prawn starter, and after a few bites, Joyce commented, 'These prawns are delicious. Are they as good as you find in Cornwall Louisa?"

Louisa agreed, saying, "Yes they are delicious. Martin would you care for a taste?"

"Um ... no I'm fine."

Joyce was curious about the play that they attended when the pictures were taken, "Can you tell us about the play you attended last month ... the one where those pictures were taken."

Louisa beamed, and launched into a description of the play. Martin listened attentively adding one or two observations. The conversation then segued into other London theatre productions, then bounced on to topics as diverse as Cornish holidays, the chef's preparations of the dinner's main courses, hospital improvements, innovations in surgery and child welfare. Despite the frequent diversion into the issues revolving around families and child welfare in which both women had great interest, Simon was able to quietly discern Louisa's ability to hold up her end of the conversation on many topics, a gift that was sure to win over many potential donors. Ellingham had certainly struck gold when he found Louisa; would he be able to keep her? Simon hoped so.

As they were finishing their dessert, Simon asked Louisa to tell them a few things about herself. She told them of her position at the primary school and some of the challenges she faced there, and she extolled the beauty of Portwenn and the joys and the occasional tribulations of living in such a close knit community.

"You seem to be very involved with your village. Have you never wanted to live anywhere else, explore the world, so to speak." Simon was curious; if his star vascular surgeon was to be happy, he would need her to move to London. She seemed quite warm and charming, a perfect complement to Martin's brusque nature; they could make a good fundraising team. But ... was this woman so committed to her village that she would choose it over Martin? It seemed to Simon that there were several impediments to their relationship

"I went to university here in London and worked here for a year afterwards when I was married. But when that ended, I had no reason to stay. I would love to travel some, see the world, but even on a head's salary, travel is a luxury."

"Ah ... so you might move if a better opportunity came your way, say a promotion, or a special person?"

Martin couldn't believe what Simon was saying, and opened his mouth to object but managed only a grunt before Joyce chimed in, "Really dear, don't you think you are being a little too forward." Simon could be blunt and direct, but she had held her tongue tonight as she often did at his occasional lapse in civility. After all this was Simon's affair and she was playing the role of the dutiful spouse. "Honestly, sometimes he doesn't realize he is being rude. I apologise for him."

"I don't need apologising for. I need to know if Louisa would be willing to come down to London upon occasion if Martin needed her. I'm sure Martin has told her why I wanted to meet her." Martin wasn't the only surgeon in London who was arrogant.

Martin interrupted,"Look here Simon. There's no need..."

Louisa reached over and put her hand on his sleeve, "Martin, let me handle this." Rather than pussyfoot around the subject, Louisa decided to be as direct as Simon. She turned to Simon and said in an authoritative a voice, one she might use with her school Board of Governors, "Yes, let's get down to business, shall we? After all that is really why we are here, although ..." She shifted her gaze toward Joyce, "It has been delightful meeting you both, really. I have enjoyed our dinner immensely."

Turning back to Simon, she continued, "Martin did say that you might want me to accompany him on social events with potential donors and such, and I would be happy to help him as long as it doesn't interfere with my work. I have to put my school and students first you understand. As I said earlier, Martin and I are still getting to know each other and to that end, we try to spend as much time together as possible, within the time limits imposed upon us by our busy schedules. If one of these events should occur when I am in town, I would be happy to attend. Does that tell you what you need to know?"

Simon was impressed with her directness, but not nearly as impressed as Martin. He knew she was extremely competent as her school's head teacher; talk at the village holiday party had convinced him of that, but he had no idea that she could, that she would, be so commanding and assertive. He himself was extremely confident whenever he was discussing something medical, but otherwise he usually felt that he was in over his head. He was grateful that she was willing to help him, but he was even more impressed that she could articulate her willingness to help him within such well defined parameters. No wonder she was able to run her school with such efficiency. Once again he felt awestruck that she would choose to be with him.


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53**

After Louisa's trip to London in January, she and Martin found themselves talking to each other every evening when they weren't together, usually for a few minutes, just to say goodnight, but on occasion for a few minutes longer. At the beginning, Louisa did most of the talking with Martin actively listening and making the occasional short comment. She would ask about his work and his clocks, but his answers were usually terse ... "fine" ... "routine" ... "satisfactory" ... sometimes even "good" ... not particularly revelatory. She knew he was a very private man so he wasn't inclined to talk about himself, even when encouraged, and she wanted him to share some of his world and thoughts with her.

She thought about ways to inspire him to open up about his day, so she decided to give him an assignment. "As you go about your day, I want you to think about something you could tell me – maybe something you saw on the way to hospital or on the way home, someone you met that day, an interesting conversation with a colleague, a newspaper article you read, an unusual patient or treatment you encountered, even something you had for lunch or dinner. You don't have to give me names or anything confidential, just something that will help me to understand your world or your life."

"Every day?"

"Yes."

"But you may not understand it."

"You can always explain it to me in simple terms."

He wasn't sure if he would be able to find anything of interest to tell her, but he took his assignment seriously; he wanted to make her happy. At first he would tell her about a recipe he was trying or a special vegetable he found at the market, but one day he was so exasperated with one of his registrars that he immediately started the conversation with her by expressing his frustrations with the man. Secretly she was delighted that he felt comfortable confiding in her and she encouraged his rant with appropriate questions. It was the beginning of the ever deepening of their partnership when he realized that telling her about the good and bad of his day made him feel good.

Now she had decided it was time to expand their social circle. She would always have her own circle of friends that she enjoyed meeting for lunch or dinner and Martin would always have his work colleagues, but they needed to have at least a few couples with whom they could socialise on a regular basis. Martin might not feel the need, but she would; she would need to feel that her family, including Martin, was part of the larger community for her life to seem complete. She was fairly certain that Martin was able to enjoy their evenings with Alicia and Stefan, but she wanted to have a few other couples in Cornwall to see upon occasion. With that in mind, she called Michelle Parsons one Sunday afternoon for a chat. It had been a little over two months since they had met, and Louisa wanted to develop the friendship with her no matter what.

When Martin called her that Sunday as usual, Louisa greeted him by asking how his day went and she learned that he had worked on his clock, taken a walk over to the science museum to examine a new exhibit in the Medical History gallery, and then reviewed his notes for the next day's procedures. She encouraged him to elaborate on the science museum exhibit, curious as to whether he thought the museum had presented the material clearly and accurately. When he asked about her day, she told him of a special casserole recipe that she had tried that she thought he would enjoy and then said, "I spoke with Michelle Parsons today."

Immediately Martin was concerned, it never occurring to him that the two women might be talking just to keep in touch. "Is everything alright?"

'Oh yes, we had a very nice catch-up. Whilst we were talking, I mentioned that you were coming down for the weekend and Michelle suggested that we get together for dinner Saturday night. I told her I thought it was a lovely idea, but that I'd have to check with you first. What do you think?"

Martin was caught off guard. "Uh ... I was hoping we could spend Friday and Saturday night together ... just the two of us."

"We'll have all Friday evening together just the two of us, and then all Saturday night after dinner, and then all Sunday morning before you have to leave. Besides I think it would be good for us to socialise with another couple, and you like Chris and Michelle."

'Yes ... but ... uh ... we have so little time to ourselves on these weekends."

"Yes that's true, but I think it will be fun. I think you will enjoy it ... I would enjoy it." She paused for a moment to be certain that he understood that it was important to her, and then went on, "Michelle told me not to let you talk me out of it. So let's go."

Martin was quiet for a moment. He didn't have a good reason to give her, only that he really wanted her all to himself. However, he knew that having Louisa in his life required that he socialise and he was comfortable spending time with Chris and Michelle. And his weekend with Louisa would likely be difficult if he refused to join them for dinner. She had made a point of saying she would enjoy it. All in all he really had no choice but to agree, "Yes."

Martin's week had gone well. He had had two very difficult procedures that week and both patients were now recovering as well as he could hope, and so he was in good spirits when he exited the train early Friday evening. He and Louisa had a pleasant evening putting together a simple meal and discussing their plans for the weekend. By the time they reached the small restaurant near Newquay on Saturday, he was feeling quite mellow, almost looking forward to the evening. Louisa had made it clear to Martin that, at the end of the evening, he would be very pleasantly rewarded for agreeing to go out with the Parsons; and with the promise of erotic delights later that night, he was practically convivial. Chris and Michelle were both pleased to find Martin participating in the conversation more often than he had in years, with a shy smile intermittently lighting up his face, and even managing an occasional soft chuckle. They found themselves exchanging looks that conveyed how pleased they were that Martin seemed to be so happy.

Midway through the meal Louisa and Michelle were gaily laughing at a story Chris had just told of an older ward sister who adamantly opposed BST changes each year and was a staunch supporter of year round use of GMT whenever the subject came up in Parliament. Her philosophy was "If God had intended us to have daylight savings time, he would have made the sun rise and set later in the summer to begin with". Martin just shook his head, "How can you let such a dim-witted idiot manage an entire ward? Are you still using leeches at the Royal Cornwall?"

"Martin!" Chris laughed. "Of course not! And in fact, Charlotte Grady is one of our most competent ward managers. We all have our idiosyncrasies, and timekeeping is just hers." Chris reached for one of the restaurant's famous herb rolls, and then looked up and exclaimed, "Oh look, Michael O'Leary just walked in. You know him don't you Louisa; he's your village GP and I imagine you've introduced him to Martin. We should ask them to join us."

Michael and Carrie, who had been dating for just over a month, had just entered the restaurant. Michael had decided that it was time to step up the relationship by taking her out for a special dinner, and had chosen this particular restaurant because one of his patient's had recommended it for its romantic atmosphere.. Michelle looked over at the door, and then glanced toward Martin and Louisa. Martin's face was covered with storm clouds and Louisa was slowly shaking her head and her eyes were pleading with Michelle not to let Chris invited them over. Michelle tapped Chris on the sleeve to deter him, but was too late. Chris had already caught Michael's attention and as they were making their way over, Michelle whispered into Chris' ear, "Not a good idea. Don't ask them to join us."

Chris gave his wife a quick wide-eyed questioning look, and then quickly turned back smiling as the two arrived at their table, "O'Leary. Fancy meeting you here this evening. I believe you may know everyone here. Do you remember my wife, Michelle? And you know Louisa of course, and our friend Martin Ellingham." Chris was full of his usual charm and cheerfulness, seeing no reason to be otherwise.

"Yes, Michelle so nice to see you again. I believe we met at your Boxing Day open house a year ago. I was so sorry that I was unable to attend this year." Michael replied warmly, then turning to Louisa and Martin, he coldly recognised them with a curt, "Louisa...Martin." Then turning to Carrie, he made the introductions, "Carrie, this is Chris Parsons, the head of the PCT and his wife Michelle."

Carrie smiled warmly at Chris and Michelle, always happy to meet new people, "Chris, it's a pleasure to meet you. Michael has told me what a superb job you do keeping all the GP's here in northern Cornwall in top form."She directed her gaze toward Michelle and greeted her, "It's very nice to meet you as well Michelle." She turned to Louisa, who was after all her boss and someone with whom she wanted to maintain a good relationship no matter how awkward the situation, "Hello Louisa ... Martin, good to see you. Funny we should meet up like this, but I hear this is a wonderful restaurant." Carrie knew the situation was less than ideal and was determined to keep things pleasant. She wanted nothing to spoil her night out with Michael. Seeing Louisa with Martin was likely to foul Michael's mood and she thought it best to make their hello's and find their table as soon as possible.

"Hello Carrie ... Michael", Louisa responded. "Yes, our meal has been delicious. I hope you enjoy yours as well." Martin merely nodded his head and without making eye contact, clenched his jaw and grunted in acknowledgment, "Mmm ..."

Michael accepted Martin's greeting for what it was, the recognition of a rival and politely said to Louisa, "Yes, good to see you. Well we'd better find our table. See you Tuesday, Parsons."

As they left the table, Chris blurted out, "Okay. Am I missing something here?" Chris had noticed the strain on Louisa's face and Martin glowering next to her and was completely confused.

Louisa had no intention of describing the relationship history among the three of them. "A recent misunderstanding. It will blow over soon enough." She reached over to squeeze Martin's hand and smiled up at him. "So did we tell you about the play Martin and I saw when I was in London this January?"

Their encounter with Michael and Carrie was soon forgotten as the evening wore on, but Michelle noticed the change in Martin's mood. He was still pleasant, but his easiness from earlier in the evening had left and he was more guarded and tense.

While they were waiting for the waiter to bring the puddings and coffee, Louisa turned to Martin and gave him a kiss on the cheek, "I'm going to the Ladies for a minute. Be right back," she chirped.

Michelle got up and followed her as well with Martin following the two women with his eyes until they turned the corner leading to the lavatories. Chris noticed his old mate's longing look and thought to himself, "_Shelly's right. Martin really does have it bad. Sure hope it works out for him; he deserves a lovely woman like Louisa._" Then he chuckled to himself and remarked, like all men do at one time or another, "Why is it that women always have to go to the loo in pairs? I have never understood that."

"I'm sure some academic has done a dissertation on the phenomenon. You should do an internet search on the topic." Martin quipped, with perfect deadpan seriousness.

"Do you think so?" Chris wondered, then noticed his friends eyebrows lift as if to say "Gotcha!", and he laughed heartily.

"It's possible."

"Hmmm," Chris changed the subject. "I couldn't help but notice that you and Louisa were not too happy to see O'Leary."

"No." Was Martin's succinct response. "Tosser"

Chris leaned across the table and asked in a confidential tone, "Is there something I should know? Have you seen something amiss in his medical knowledge?"

"No, nothing like that. He's just a little too familiar with Louisa at times." Martin couldn't help himself and spat out his fears, "Look at the man; he looks like a matinee idol, and he's in the village with Louisa 24/7, sniffing about, trying to charm her. How can I compete with that?"

"Do you think he's really interested?"

"How can he not be? She's so beautiful. And I know for a fact that he was seriously courting her before we met."

"Courting? I didn't know people did that nowadays."

"You know what I mean. My Aunty Joan told me that the village was certain that they would marry. Now they seem to think it's a dead heat between the two of us."

"Yet, here you are with her and there he is with someone else. I'd definitely say you are pulling ahead ... if we are comparing it to a horse race."

"Tell me truthfully Chris, do you think I stand a chance with her?"

"Would she be travelling up to London every month if she weren't serious? Yes I do think she fancies you. Stake your claim so to speak." Chris paused a moment and then added in a serious tone, "Truthfully, old mate to old mate, I think you should ask her to marry you sooner rather than later. I think she would make you very happy."

Martin looked at him gravely, "Yes. But would I make her happy? That's the question." "_That crazy vicar was on to something when he asked me if I make her happy. Can I?_" He looked up and saw the two women returning to the table. They had their heads together in what appeared to be serious conversation. As they approached the table, Louisa looked up and suddenly beamed at Martin. The two men stood up as their partners reached the table to assist them into their chairs. Before she sat down, Louisa reached up and kissed Martin on the cheek, whispering, "Thank you". He thought his head might burst with happiness as he sat down after lightly brushing her shoulder and arm.

Michelle and Louisa were finishing up a serious conversation of their own that started as they were freshening their make-up. Michelle had asked in what she hoped would be a casual tone, "What's up with Dr. O'Leary and his date?"

"Oh, nothing really." Louisa was hesitant to share what she considered the whole sordid story.

"It's just that you looked ... how should I phrase this? ... somewhat panicky when you saw him. And Martin had seemed so relaxed and happy, until he saw Dr. O'Leary and suddenly he was grim faced and tense. He still hasn't recovered. You must know why Martin reacted that way. I'm worried about him."

"_God_," Louisa thought, "_I feel like I'm in a soap opera_." She decided that it would be prudent to let Michelle know something. "Okay, here's the deal. I was seeing Michael, Dr. O'Leary, socially when I first met Martin. It was never really serious even though Michael wanted it to be. He plans to return to America and wanted me to join him, but I love Cornwall and I love England. I couldn't imagine life in another country. When I decided I wanted to pursue a relationship with Martin, I told Michael we shouldn't see each other anymore and he didn't take it well. That is why he was short with us. Martin knows that we were seeing each other and I think he may still consider Michael a rival, even though I've told him I don't see him anymore. I really don't know why else Martin would be so rude toward him."

"Poor Dr. O'Leary. To have loved and lost ... never easy," Michelle shook her head sympathetically. "And poor Martin. He never thought anyone could ever love him, and now that he's found someone, he's probably certain that it's just a matter of time before you leave him."

"Why would he think that no one could love him? He's so incredibly special. How do you know that's how he feels?"

"I've known Martin a long time and he's told me ... not in so many words, mind you. I've prodded him over the years to find a nice woman and settle down, but he always tells me it's not worth the time to pursue anyone because it was likely to end badly once they got to know him. As confident as he is in the medical world, he is completely insecure socially; always afraid he'll say the wrong thing, so he just doesn't say anything. "

"Yes. At first I thought the only three words he was comfortable with were 'yes', 'right', and 'good'. But I am getting him to open up. You know we talk every night, just a few minutes, to stay in touch. I gave him an assignment." Michelle gave her a sceptical look, and Louisa laughed, " Yes, yes, I know, always the teacher ... he has to tell me something that he did or saw that day when we talk. He has taken his 'assignment' very seriously and has started to share his days and thoughts."

"Wow! I am impressed that you've been able to crack his reserve. Well done, Louisa."

Louisa gave her a shy, but proud smile, nodding her head.

Michelle continued, "As you know, Chris and I think very highly of him. He seems so happy right now; we hope it works out for you two." And then she laughed, "Not to put _any_ pressure on you of course. It will work out or it won't, but know that we're rooting for you."

It was a very happy Louisa who settled into the seat next to him on the drive back to her cottage, and Martin was certain that she had not had that much wine. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek as he started her car. He smiled down at her and then to his surprise, she took his face in her hands and kissed him soundly on the lips, a kiss he was only too happy to return. "You seem to be in high spirits tonight," he observed.

"I am," she burbled. "I had a wonderful time tonight with the man I adore and two good friends. And you seemed to have had a good time as well."

"_The man she adores._" He took note of that phrase, savouring the connotation. "I did, and I'm looking forward to the rest of the night as well."

"You are, are you? Hmmm ... And why might that be?" She rubbed her hand on his thigh, sliding it ever so suggestively closer to the crease where his two legs met, feeling his desire welling up.

"Louisa!" He shouted as he removed her hand. "Do you want to cause an accident? I can't concentrate when you do that."

Giggling she straightened up and teased, her eyes sparkling, "I'm looking forward to the rest of the evening too. Oh! But I did have a good time tonight."

"Yes," he agreed, "until that tosser showed up.'

"Yes that was unfortunate, that they ended up at the same restaurant as us – of all the restaurants in North Cornwall. I do hope he and Carrie can make a go of it."

"Hmmm," Martin hesitated for a moment, and then voiced a concern, quietly, almost in a whisper, "Should I anticipate a scene from him similar to the one with Dennis?"

Louisa looked at him shocked at first, but then remembering what Michelle had just told her about his insecurity, she whispered back, "I shouldn't think so. There's nothing to tell and Michael is nothing like Dennis."

"Nothing to tell? You were with him for over a year. Auntie Joan tells me the villagers were certain that you would marry him."

"The villagers don't know everything, now do they?" She drummed her fingers on the car seat, and then fiddled with the strap on her purse composing her thoughts, "Yes, we did see each other for a good while, but we never slept together, so really there's nothing to tell."

"Never?"

"No never. It's not that I wasn't tempted; I will be truthful with you, there was some chemistry between us, but ... well there just wasn't any future in it."

Martin pondered this information for well over a minute, then with his eyes firmly focused on the road ahead, he murmured, "You sleep with me."

She gazed at his profile, then reached over and stroked his cheek, "Yes. Yes, I do."

***BST (British Summer Time) is similar to Daylight Savings time in the US when the clocks are all moved ahead one hour in March to have more daylight in the evenings and less in the mornings during the warmer months of the year. GMT is Greenwich Mean Time.**


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter 54**

Martin's visit to Portwenn at the beginning of March was entirely too short. Louisa was true to her word when she told him he would enjoy the sensual pleasures she had planned for them upon their return home from dinner with the Parsons. He was still feeling the warmth of her attentions as he travelled back to London Sunday evening. In fact, he had been loath to leave her bed that morning, knowing that he would spend the next several weeks alone in London.

Leaving her left him with the same keen sense of loss he experienced when leaving Aunty Joan at the end of his summer holidays. Joan and Phil would drive him to the station and wait with him on the platform until his train arrived, Joan fussing over him and making him promise to eat the chicken sandwiches and cakes she had packed for him. When the train finally pulled into the station, Phil would load up his bags and Aunty Joan would give him one last long hug and then kiss him and remind him how much they loved him and tell him to hurry back. He knew that they loved him, and that had made all the difference in his life. He would have stayed with them permanently if his father had allowed it.

Louisa stood with him on the platform just as Joan had done all those years ago, discreetly holding his hand and passing the time with comments about her upcoming schedule and her next visit to London. There would be no demonstrative hugs or kisses there on the platform with other passengers standing nearby waiting for the train; they had shared those endearments before they left the cottage and again briefly in the car when they first arrived at the station car park. He squeezed her hand as the train pulled into the station and she smiled up at him unable to resist giving him a peck on the cheek before whispering good-bye. He softly gazed into her eyes, pursed his lips and grunted "mm" in reply and then boarded the train. She stood on the platform as his train left the station and he watched her until the train took a curve and he could no longer see her in the distance.

Once again he was the young boy, alone, staring out the window watching the fields and forests flying by, feeling envy for the sheep and cows who passed their entire lives in Cornwall as he headed back to London and then to school, dreading the isolation and discipline inherent in both quarters. He shook himself. No! He wasn't that young boy subject to the whims of his father. He had no control over his life then, but now, now he was an adult and responsible for the course of his life and he answered to no one but himself. He was certain that Louisa loved him even though neither of them had said it to the other. Hadn't she said she adored him last night and admitted that by sleeping with him she felt they had a future? Chris was right; he should ask her to marry him and take her back to London with him on a permanent basis. Aunty Joan had given him the same advice just that afternoon when he walked her to her truck after the special brunch they had made for her. "What are you waiting for Marty? Don't be obtuse. It's obvious that Louisa loves you. Ask her to marry you."

The school term would conclude towards the end of March and there was a 17 day break before the next term began on Easter Monday, April 12. Louisa was scheduled to spend ten of those days with him in London. Perhaps he would broach the subject then. To that end, he started researching jewellers with the goal of selecting an engagement ring if she were to accept him.

# # # # #

Louisa had reserved a train for late Saturday afternoon. The end of term involved reams of paperwork for the school headmistress so there was no way she could leave on Friday right after school let out. She worked long into the night and right up until the taxi came for her at mid-afternoon. Even so, she had to tote a satchel full of unfinished work along with her laptop case. Thank god for modern technology that allowed her to finish her final term reports from Martin's study whilst he was at work.

She had packed her bags the previous weekend with the extra clothes she would need for the longer visit as well as the special evening outfit she would wear for the first hospital fundraising event she would attend with Martin. She had been uncertain what type of dress she should bring and Martin had been no help whatsoever, "I'm sure whatever you wear will be suitable," was his response when she asked. Fortunately she had Joyce's phone number and when she called, Joyce had been very helpful in describing the types of dresses usually worn at these events; she had even forwarded several photographs taken at a recent event for Louisa to examine. Louisa had decided that the standard little black cocktail dress would be best for her first foray into this challenging world, but then she had found a charming midnight blue silk sheath dress with a square neckline and three-quarter length lace sleeves, which she was certain would be "suitable".

Martin was waiting, as usual to help her exit her train car. She had warned him that she had several bags with her and he had arranged for a porter to help them carry the bags to the taxi rank. Joe Penhale met them at the entrance to Martin's building with a trolley, and remarked, "Looks like you're moving in, eh?"

Martin just grunted, "Miss Glasson will be here through Monday next. Be sure to extend her every courtesy."

Once inside Martin's flat, Louisa said apologetically, "Maybe I did pack too many things; I just wasn't sure what I would need with the weather so changeable this time of year. And I had to bring some paperwork to finish up next week."

"It's fine. Shall we move your bags to the spare room – plenty of closet space there?"

"Yes."

Martin carried her bags into the spare bedroom, and Louisa put her laptop along with her satchel full of paperwork next to his desk.

"I cleared out a drawer in my dresser for you to use for your night things, and I made space in my bathroom for your toiletries if you'd like. Let me take your coat and then I'll finish up dinner whilst you unpack." Martin turned to head toward the kitchen.

"Wait!" Louisa cried.

Martin turned, "Yes?"

She looked at him longingly, "Aren't you forgetting something?"

He looked at her blankly, "What?"

"You haven't greeted me properly."

"Ah, yes". He laid the coat on the bed, then went over to her and smiling shyly he pushed her long hair away from her face, and whispered, "Hello, Louisa Glasson", then kissed her gently on the lips.

"Hello, Martin Ellingham." She replied, caressing the hair on the back of his head and smiling back at him as she returned the gentle kiss.

"To hell with unpacking and dinner," he cried and tumbled onto the bed with her, kissing her passionately. When they came up for air, Louisa laughed heartily, "Oh, Mr. Ellingham, you are quite exuberant tonight, but I really think we should eat first, don't you?"

"No", He kissed her again while his hands worked their way under her skirt and up her thighs.

"Martin, I really am hungry. We've plenty of time, all night to enjoy ourselves. Let's eat first."

"Very well," he reluctantly agreed and rolled off the bed and headed out to finish the meal preparations.

After dinner while Martin did the washing up, Louisa finished unpacking. He walked into the spare room just as she was trying on her new dress for the hospital fund raising event. Seeing him in the doorway, she turned and asked, "How do you like it? Do you think it is suitable for Thursday evening?"

"Very nice."

He sighed, "I hate that you are being dragged into this kind of thing." He sat down on the bed whilst she put on the shoes, dark pumps with three inch heels and a provocative cut out on the side, knowing full well that he would not approve. "Are those the shoes you are planning to wear?"

She looked down at her feet and nodded, "Mmm."

He shook his head in disapproval, "Not a good idea. We will be on our feet most of the evening, "mingling". You should get some more sensible shoes to wear."

"Martin. These are the shoes I will be wearing, and yes, I suppose my feet may be sore by the end of the evening, but these shoes add a little edge to an otherwise very conservative outfit." She looked at him challengingly, then after checking herself again in the mirror, added, "Now I just need to find an appropriate necklace and earrings."

"Hmmm ... just don't complain to me if you can't find a chair when your feet start to hurt." A grimace spread over his features as he continued to glare at her shoes.

"Don't worry, I won't." Louisa stood before the mirror debating whether she should wear her hair down or up thinking, "_I know he is just concerned about my comfort, but really! He will never understand some things about women and their shoes, will he?"_ She continued her internal debate about her hair and as she was holding it up, a thought crossed her mind, and she started to smile, "_I know how to distract him from his concern about my feet._" She turned around provocatively, and giving him a coy look over her shoulder, asked. "I need to take this off and hang it in the wardrobe. Could you help me with the zip?"


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter 55**

Louisa gazed at her reflection in the ladies room mirror, more than pleased with the image of the sophisticated woman staring back at her. The beautiful necklace that Martin had bought for her last Sunday afternoon was perfect. And here she was, looking and feeling just as elegant as he always appeared. She didn't like to think she was so shallow that a single piece of jewellery could make her feel so special, but it did. She knew that Martin always thought she looked nice even if he seldom said anything, and tonight was no different. The way his face softened when he spoke to her, the way his lips turned up ever so slightly when he glanced her way and thought no one was looking, the way he touched her elbow when he introduced her to a colleague or benefactor, all these things told her that he was not only grateful for her presence, but also happy to have her at his side.

Despite her usual self assurance, she had felt intimidated when she contemplated the class of people that would attend this reception. Knowing that she was elegantly attired boosted her confidence for the first few minutes of the evening. Once she started to mingle and realized that she could hold her own with Martin's colleagues, their wives and the wealthy benefactors, she started to relax and eventually enjoyed the evening. What she found even more satisfying was listening to Martin discussing his work and the needs of the surgical unit with the others. He exuded self-confidence and was articulate; this was a side of him she hadn't seen before, not even at Chris and Michelle's Boxing Day party. It was true that some of it, well most of it, went well over her head and she made a mental note to ask him to explain some of it to her later.

As she leaned into the mirror to tuck a few locks that had strayed out of her carefully styled chignon and to freshen her makeup, she thought back to Sunday, It had been a wonderful day, perfect, and she smiled to herself as she remembered. She had never been so happy. They had slept in late after a full night getting "reacquainted", fixed a big breakfast together, discussed the news on the front page of the morning paper while they ate, and made plans for the day.

It had been a beautiful early spring day, and they were out for a walk when they passed a jeweller and Martin suggested that they go inside to see if there were any necklaces suitable for her dress. She had a simple gold chain that she had been wearing for years, but she had hoped to find here in London something just a little more sophisticated. She knew that Martin thought she was beautiful, not that he had actually said those words to her more than once or twice;but she saw it in his eyes every time he looked at her. Nevertheless, she still felt a little outclassed whenever she was with him, and she wanted him to be proud to have her on his arm.

She took one look in the jeweller's window and said she would prefer to walk on; she was fairly certain that the jeweller would have nothing in her price range, but Martin would not be deterred. He told her that he wanted to buy something for her because she would have no need of it were it not for the hospital's insistence that she accompany him to this ghastly affair. Once inside, she selected several very nice gold chains in various designs and was deciding between two that were perfect, when Martin pointed to one with a pendant that he thought would look nice with her dress. It was a rather large square dark blue topaz with a border of small white diamonds on a plain gold chain. It was exquisite, but she knew it was likely to be far too expensive, "Yes, it is lovely, but ..." She looked at him and just shook her head.

"Try it on", he urged her, but she gave him "the look". It had been several months since she had given him "the look" and he was completely baffled, "What?"

She pulled him back slightly from the counter, and whispered into his ear, "It will be much too expensive."

He whispered right back at her, "No it won't. Just try it on."

Going back to the counter, she told the salesman that she would like to try on the pendant. She put it around her neck and Martin closed the clasp. It was beautiful, the way the jewels glimmered against her creamy skin; she knew it was perfect, but it was such an extravagance. "I don't know."

"Do you not care for it?" Martin was certain that it was perfect for her.

"Yes, it's beautiful, but ..." she replied.

"You prefer one of the other chains, then?" Martin wanted her to get the necklace she preferred.

She gazed up at him, looking for some guidance, but his face bore its usual neutral expression except for his eyes which were wide open with a questioning look. She couldn't answer. He tilted his head, and then asked, "Perhaps we should look elsewhere?"

"I could set it aside for you until tomorrow if you would care to think it over," The salesman was certain that the distinguished gentleman would be back to make the purchase.

"Yes, perhaps that is what we should do." Louisa agreed, and they left the shop after Martin gave his contact information to the salesman.

"Perhaps we can meet up over lunch tomorrow and look again." Martin really wanted to do something special for her, and this purchase had seemed a perfect opportunity.

"Martin, you don't have to buy jewellery for me. I am perfectly able to find something myself."

"But I want to. The pendant looked very nice on you, but I want it to be something that you love."

"The pendant was beautiful, exquisite, but it was just too expensive."

"Is that why you put it back?"

"Well yes. I can't accept anything like that from you. It's just too much."

"No, it isn't. We're going back and I'm getting it for you."

Later that night, after she had tried on the dress and Martin had placed the necklace around her neck, nuzzling the skin behind her ear the way he loved to do as he closed the clasp, they both looked in the mirror and agreed that it was a perfect accessory to her dress. He turned her around and gazed at her with that loving expression of his, the expression that told her he thought she was beautiful. He traced the outline of her cheek with the back of his fingers, trailing them down over her neck, across her collarbone and then picked up the necklace. After holding it briefly in his hand, he dropped it, lifted her chin and kissed her tenderly. He pulled away, wrapped his arms loosely around her waist, and then with a small grin asked if she was ready for him to undo her zip. But there was a cloud over her face he hadn't noticed at first, "What's wrong?"

"Martin, I love the necklace, but ... well it makes me feel uncomfortable."

"Does it irritate your skin? If so, we will have to return it."

"No, that's not it. It ..., well your buying it for me makes me feel" She nervously played with the buttons on his shirt, struggling with the words, almost ashamed to say them out loud.

When she didn't continue, he grew impatient as he couldn't understand what the problem could be, and he asked perhaps in a sharper tone than he intended, "Makes you feel what?"

She hung her head, and finally said in a tentative voice, "This is hard to say Martin."

"Just say it." He pulled back a step or two and dropped his hands next to his side, his fingers twitching. He was becoming annoyed.

She hung her head, looking down at her hands clasped at her waist. "Well, it makes me feel like your mistress."

"What?!" Martin was confused and baffled. "That is utterly ridiculous. People don't have mistresses these days."

She looked down again, fiddling with her hands, pursing her mouth, "Actually they do, and this is just the kind of thing a wealthy man would buy his mistress." Seeing the shocked look on his face, she rushed to add, "I'm sure that you don't think of me that way, but I can't help how I feel."

He _was_ shocked at what she had said and for once his expression betrayed his inner turmoil. He wanted to buy the necklace because she wouldn't need it if he hadn't asked her to attend this dreadful function with him. That it should even cross her mind that he would consider her his mistress was horrifying. He thought they had an understanding; didn't she know he wanted to marry her? A few moments passed as he composed his thoughts. "Would you feel that way if you were my wife, if I were your husband?"

By now he had regained his composure and he stared at her intently waiting for her answer. Turning her head to the side away from him, she thought about how cherished she might feel if her husband should give her such a gift for a special anniversary or birthday; it would actually make her very happy, and a smile flitted across her face. But he wasn't her husband and this wasn't a special occasion and she quickly returned to reality. "I don't know. Probably not, but that's beside the point."

"No it's not. Marry me." It was out of his mouth before he realised what he was saying. He had planned to ask her this week, but not this way, not so abruptly. He felt like he had in his dream when he had asked her to marry him at the spur of the moment. He wanted it to be romantic; true he wasn't what dream Louisa called a hearts and flowers kind of man, but he thought he could pull it off. He had planned to take her out to dinner or even better prepare a special candlelit meal at home. After dinner at home, he planned to put some dance music on, maybe _One enchanted Evening_, maybe something else; he was still deciding on appropriate songs. They often danced in the evenings before preparing for bed; it seemed to be something Louisa enjoyed. After holding her close for one or two songs, he would ask her to marry him, but all those plans had now vaporised with his impromptu proposal.

She gave him a wry little grin, "Martin, don't be silly. I wasn't angling for a marriage proposal. I was just feeling a bit odd, that's all."

He straightened himself up to his full height. "I'm not being silly."

She shook her head slowly and pushed a stray hair behind her ears. "No, I guess not. You don't do silly, do you?"

Taking both of her hands in his, he looked into her eyes intently and declared, "Louisa, I couldn't be more serious. Will you marry me?"

"Oh Martin," she regarded him with intense love in her eyes, then circled her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. 'I want to, but I don't think I'm ready yet. It's too soon."

"No it's not; we've been together eight months. That's long enough."

She smiled at him indulgently, "We've _known_ each other eight months; we've only really been together for four, barely, and it's not even really that long when you consider that we only see each other on weekends or long holidays."

She loosened her hold on him and looked up to explain, "I have a cousin in America, second cousin on my father's side. She lives in one of those southern states, Alabama maybe or Georgia. Anyway, her aunt has a saying, '_don't marry a man 'til you've been through 'coon season with him'_."

"What?" He jerked his head back and looked at her like she had just spouted something in Klingon. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"'Coon season, raccoon season ... men go out to the woods to hunt racoon, but mostly to drink and misbehave. I think it means you need to know someone really well before you commit to a lifetime together; it's important to know how they react in the good times and the trying times. I need to see you in your actual habitat. And you need to learn what living with me day to day will be like. This week will be good, but I doubt that I will know all the shades of Martin Ellingham by next Monday."

"There's not that much to learn." He was sincere in his assessment of himself, knowing that he was a dull and stodgy middle aged man.

"I doubt that! Ask me again this summer." She had enrolled in a four week course for state school administrators to be held in London over the summer break and was planning to stay with him while she was in town. They both had agreed that it would be a good opportunity to spend time together and get to know each other much better. Seeing the disappointment in his face, she kissed him tenderly, "It will work out. I promise."

Disappointed, but with the promise of acceptance in a few months, he wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug, resting his head on her shoulder, "I hope so."

He held her for a few moments and then started to nuzzle her neck, "Shall I undo your zip?"

**Author's note: ****_Just a Glimpse_**** will go on hiatus for the next several weeks while we enjoy whatever BP has created for us in series 7. I sincerely hope all of you find the new episodes full of all the humor and "romance" and that "je ne sais quoi" that brought us all to the wonderful world of Portwenn to begin with. There'll be lots more of ****_Just a Glimpse_**** to come later.**


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter 56**

For days following the Sunday evening when Martin proposed Louisa was euphoric. She had never felt such happiness, full of the knowledge that Martin loved her enough to ask her to marry him. The end of term work she had brought with her kept her busy during the day, but there were times when she would wander through Martin's flat, cup of tea in hand, imagining how life together with him in London would be. How would she add her own touches to the flat to make it hers as well as his? Perhaps her favourite painting of Portwenn, the one Alicia had done years ago, would look nice over the credenza at the end of the lounge. She thought she would add a few potted plants to the balcony and perhaps a small garden bench just to give it a homier feel. In the late afternoon, she would stop by the market to pick up provisions for supper, laying them out on the kitchen counter so that they could prepare their meal together when Martin arrived home. He seemed quite pleased to see her every evening when she greeted him at the door just as he arrived.

By noon on Wednesday she had completed her end of term paperwork which left her free to spend the remainder of her week exploring the city or visiting with friends. She had arranged to meet Amy Woodvine for lunch at 1:00; she had enjoyed meeting her at Annie's wedding the previous month and was looking forward to deepening the friendship. When Martin met up for lunch with her old university friend, Tom a few weeks after what Martin would forever refer to as the "wedding reception from hell", Tom commented to Martin how nice it was to reconnect with Louisa and suggested that she give Amy a call the next time she was in London. The two women hit it off, just as Tom had predicted.

Naturally their attachment to men of science was a connection they shared and they spent the first half of their lunch giggling over the quirks and eccentricities of each of their men. Eventually they worked their way to the topic of their own work and Louisa was fascinated to discover that Amy was a physical therapist who worked primarily with disabled children. The work was physically demanding, but she was hoping to be able to continue helping her clients up through the middle of May when her baby was due. Louisa was scheduled to be back in London sometime mid-May and she promised to call with the hope of seeing the baby then.

Despite her initial apprehension that she might not be the helpmate Martin needed at the reception Thursday evening or that it would prove as tedious as Martin had predicted, she found she had enjoyed herself immensely. The evening was by design a social event at which hospital benefactors were recognised for their contributions to the health and well being of the central London community. In addition they had the opportunity to mingle with the senior hospital staff both before and after the formal portion of the evening, plying them with questions and suggestions for continuing improvements. Entertainment was provided by several well-known musical groups and a photographer had been engaged to take both formal and candid photos of the guests, some of which would make their way to the society pages that weekend.

Early in the week, Martin had to attend a meeting with other senior surgical staff where the administration advised them of salient points, some of them by necessity technical in nature, to stress when the topic of the new state of the art surgical wing came up. Martin was accustomed to explaining medical procedures to patients from all walks of life so he was a master at communicating the intricacies of his craft at a level appropriate to his audience, but the small talk and amusing repartee that was expected at these evenings was not something at which he excelled. Louisa, on the other hand, was by nature an extrovert and found something of interest in nearly every one she met. She was able to charm Martin's colleagues and hospital benefactors by expressing interest in both their chosen professional fields and charitable interests. When the conversation veered towards lighter topics, she found delight in engaging in friendly banter and harmless flirting with some of the men and laughing with the women on topics as wide ranging as the latest fashions to current theatrical productions. And when the conversation lagged, she found herself regaling more than one group with anecdotes about the antics of some of her more "resourceful" students.

Despite his busy workweek with a full list of consultations and procedures scheduled every day, Martin found himself in better humour than usual. Knowing Louisa would be there to greet him when he arrived home seemed to ease some of his frustrations with the incompetents that unerringly crossed his path each day. The benefactors' reception on Thursday was almost bearable with Louisa by his side. He had always hated these events where he was expected to make small talk of the weather, sporting events, and all manner of idiocy; he would prefer an evening spent at the dentist than attendance at one of these events. But when the conversation veered from the needs of the surgical staff to those other mundane topics, Louisa stepped right up, enchanting everyone with whom she spoke. He found her quite remarkable.

Others found her quite remarkable as well. The event ran quite late and while he had not scheduled any procedures for the following morning, the resulting fallout of curious colleagues wanting to discuss his beautiful companion as well as the anticipated success of the evening consumed more time than he could tolerate. Morning rounds with his registrars took longer than expected. It seemed that none of his colleagues had anything better to do than stop him in the halls to discuss the events of the previous evening. He was able to cut short any conversation while attending to his patients, but he was unable to prevent them from dropping by his office on the pretence of discussing plans for the new surgical suites that certain benefactors had assured the hospital would soon be funded. He was pleased that the hours spent enduring tedious small talk the evening before were not spent in vain, but when the conversation turned to questions about Louisa, he chased them out of his office and slammed the door. By the end of the day, his temper had grown short and he was ready for a quiet night at home, fixing a simple supper with Louisa and planning a meal for Saturday night when the Parsons, who were in town for a conference, would be visiting them in Martin's flat.

Friday afternoon Louisa met Holly for a glass of wine after a quick visit at the end of Holly's school day. Holly was always interested in potential donors for her school and she plied Louisa with questions about everyone who was in attendance. As much as she had enjoyed meeting everyone the evening before, she really wasn't interested in gossiping about them with Holly. Instead, she referred Holly to the society pages of several London papers where the evening's activities had been thoroughly covered.

Louisa had just arrived home that evening after a quick stop at the grocers, and was freshening up when Martin opened the door to the flat and called out. "Louisa? I'm home".

"I'll be right out", she called back. He had just hung up his overcoat and put his umbrella in the stand when she came up to greet him, "How are you doing this evening?" she asked as she hugged him around the waist.

Returning the hug, he kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair wash. Pulling away slightly, he told her, "I'm glad to be home. Let's start dinner."

"Right. I bought some chicken filets and veg. It's all on the counter. Take off your jacket and we can get started."

Together they walked into the kitchen and after a brief discussion about preparation and spices, Martin donned his apron, pulled out a sauté pan and started to lightly bread the chicken while Louisa rinsed the vegetables in preparation for steaming. The phone started to ring, but Martin ignored it. "Do you want me to get that?" Louisa asked.

"No. Let the answer phone get it. If it's important, they will leave a message."

They continued with dinner preparations as Martin's voice came over the phone, "Please leave a message and I'll get back to you."

A woman's voice rang out, "Ellingham, it's me. I know you said you were busy this weekend, but I thought you might enjoy a quickie before you get started. Give me a ring; I can be right over. You've got my number."

Martin leaned against the counter and groaned, "Damn woman."

Stunned, Louisa stopped her preparations and then asked in a cold strained voice, "Who is she?"

"Edith. The woman won't leave me be." He pounded his fist on the counter. "How did she get this number?" He looked up at Louisa, saw her face struggling to maintain its composure and suddenly realised how she must have taken the message.

"How often do you and she "enjoy" a quickie ... or does she spend the night?" Her voice was tight as she stared down at the floor unable to believe this was happening.

"Nooo ... never ... She has never been in my flat. I have never been with her." He stepped toward her, reaching out with his hand.

She stepped back, eyes still fixed on the floor, unbelieving, "Never? Weren't you engaged to her?"

"Yes, but that was years ago, years ago and I haven't been with her since." He looked at her hoping she understood. "And I don't want to be with her ever again."

She was standing there, her hands balled up by her side, staring not at him, but at the cooker behind him where the chicken was sizzling on the hob, and she cried out, "How could you lead me to believe that I was the only one? How could you ask me to marry you when you are still seeing other women? I thought you were different, that you were an honourable man. How could you deceive me like that?" She tore off her apron, tossing it onto the floor, and turned to walk out the kitchen.

"I didn't. I haven't even thought about another woman since I met you." He followed her out of the kitchen as she headed toward the hall, stooping to retrieve her apron and hang it on its hook. "I would never cheat on you. Louisa ... please ... please believe me." He pleaded with her.

"I need some air; I have to go out." Louisa picked up her bag and pulled her overcoat from the cupboard and ran out the door, slamming it behind her. She pressed the elevator call button, but when it didn't come right away, she ran to the stairs and made her way down to the ground floor. Mark was still on duty and greeted her, "Evenin' Ms. Glasson. Dreary night to be goin' out." Shaking her head, she ran in tears out the door into the early evening gloom. She dashed down the building stairs and reached the pavement before she realized it was raining.

Pulling the hood of her coat over her head, she started to walk, randomly, lost in her thoughts. She had been so certain that she had found a man who was solid and reliable, a man who would be faithful to her, so unlike Dennis. She thought to herself that Holly was right; all men are the same. Martin had seemed so different from any other man she had ever known. Even his friends and colleagues were surprised to discover his relationship with her, certain that he wasn't interested in having anyone in his life. Michelle had told her how insecure he was, that he didn't date because he thought no one could love him. Then there was Simon and his wife Judith who had implied that he had never been with anyone. A hospital can be like a small village; it would be hard to hide a relationship, even a casual one, from the hospital gossip mills. Look how quickly they had discovered her relationship with him. But then here was this Edith woman calling him and offering to come over. Martin was so private a man, how could his friends and colleagues really know.

She found herself at the edge of a park near a large fountain that bubbled over making soothing water sounds. It wasn't like being at home with the sounds of the sea to soothe her, but it helped. She sat down on a bench to think things through. What was she going to do? Martin swore that he was not seeing this woman, and that he had not thought of anyone else since he met her. Certainly he acted that way when he was with her, but who was to say what he did when he was alone in London. And his skill in bed; he obviously had a good deal of experience; she should have recognized that as a red flag.

True, they did talk every night, but was he alone? How could she know? Dennis was unfaithful and she didn't know until they had been married several months. How can you ever know? Tears welled up again and the rain continued to pour so that she was almost soaked through. She couldn't stay out all night. Should she go back to Martin's? She could call Holly. Maybe she could stay with her tonight until she got her thoughts sorted.

Martin stood there and watched her walk out the door, uncertain what to do. He had denied, truthfully, any relationship with Edith, but Louisa either hadn't heard him or hadn't believed him. How could she believe he would cheat on her after all he had done to be with her? Did she not realise how difficult it had all been for him, how far out of his comfort zone he had gone to pursue her? What could he possibly do to convince her that she was the only woman he wanted in his life ... ever.

In his dream he had watched Louisa walk out on him time after time. Usually he didn't know why she left, and he would just let her go, knowing in his heart that he was to blame, that he was not the kind of man someone could love. Until the last time when he chased after her to the airport, took her off the plane and healed the bleeding AVM in her brain. What had she said then? "Thank you for coming after me." He immediately realised that was what he needed to do; he must go after her.

He grabbed his overcoat and umbrella and fled out the door and onto the waiting elevator that Louisa had called, but was too impatient to wait for. When he reached the ground floor, he demanded of Mylow, "Which way did she go?" Mark pointed down the street and Martin strode out the door. He unfurled the umbrella and scanned the street ... no sign of her. He walked purposefully, looking both ways hoping to catch sight of her, and soon reached the end of the block. Which way to go, right or left? He peered down both streets looking for signs of her navy blue coat to no avail. Would she head for the shops or to the park? Rational people would head for the shops, perhaps for a small cafe out of the rain and think about the situation over a hot cup of tea. But Louisa wasn't rational right now, so he headed towards the green space. He would search the park, and if she wasn't there, then he would head to the shops.

It was getting dark and more difficult to see. If she were in the park, her dark blue coat would blend in with the shrubbery. He had to slow down to make sure he didn't miss her. He walked along the paths they had taken several times that week after dinner, stopping to search for signs of her figure on a bench, along a path, anywhere. He noticed a young woman about her size, but then saw her lean down to pick up after her dog. It wasn't Louisa, but he mentally applauded the young woman for the courtesy she exhibited in picking up her dog's droppings.

What part of the park did she like most? He thought about how they would sit next to the fountains and listen to the water flow over the sculpture in the centre and headed that way. He almost passed by one of the benches before he recognised her familiar shape sitting hunched over. He approached the bench carefully and said, "Louisa?"

She looked up. "Oh, it's you."

"May I sit down?"

She shrugged her shoulders and he sat down on the bench without waiting for her to answer, careful to keep his coat between his trousers and the wet slats of the bench. She slid a few inches away from him toward the edge of the bench, and then asked in a low tone, "How did you find me?" It had been at least a half hour since she had rushed out of his flat and it was almost dark.

He slid closer to her trying to shield both of them from the rain with his umbrella. "Just luck that I found you. I didn't know which way to go and thought you might find the fountain a good place to think."

She sighed with the realisation that he knew her better than she had thought. "Yes. Not as good as the sounds of the tide on the coastal trail, but better than a noisy cafe."

He looked at her more carefully, "Ah ... but you are soaked through. Let's go home and talk. Please. You'll get chilled." He tilted his umbrella so she was more thoroughly protected from the rain, and now he was getting soaked himself.

"You forget I'm Cornish through and through. We're used to the rain."

"_But I'm not,_" he thought, knowing better than to point out that deficiency in his constitution. Looking down, he cried, "Look at your feet; your slippers are completely soaked." She looked down and realised that she had been so upset that she had run out while still in her house slippers; no wonder her feet felt so cold.

He knew that it would take more than a few minutes to resolve this problem and they couldn't sit on this bench all night. "There's a small pub nearby. It's early yet so unlikely to be crowded. We can get some hot tea, find a quiet corner, and talk."

"What's there to talk about? Why did that Edith woman leave that message if you and she weren't having an affair?"

"We're not. Let's just go someplace warm and dry and I will tell you all about her. I promise. Let's just go. Please."

It appeared that the rain had let up when he sat down, but now she saw the rain streaming off his hair and down his cheeks and realised that he had put her comfort above his as he had moved his umbrella to shelter her from the storm. She stood up, "Alright".

He continued to hold the umbrella over her head as they walked and she scolded him, "Martin my coat has a hood to keep me dry. Use the umbrella to keep the rain off you. We can't have our eminent vascular surgeon catching a cold and coughing on his patients."

He was tempted to advise her of the fault in her reasoning, and that catching a chill did not cause upper respiratory infections, but reconsidered and moved the umbrella as she had instructed him and they walked slowly out of the park. With every step her house slippers squished and squeaked, "We've got to get you out of those slippers." So concerned was Martin with her feet that he wasn't careful to watch his step, and he suddenly slipped on something squishy and grabbed onto her sleeve to steady himself. Even in the rain he recognised the scent of dog faeces. "Oh god," he moaned.

"What?" Louisa noticed he had moved over to the grass on the verge and was wiping his shoes and she started to giggle, "I can't believe it. You really are a magnet for that kind of thing, aren't you?"

"It only happens when I am with you," he barked at her. "Why do you think that is?"

Stifling her giggle, she barked back, "No idea. It's not my fault that you don't look where you step."

"I didn't say it was. Most of it is off now. Let's just get in out of this rain."

He reached over to take her elbow, but she pulled away and declared tartly, "I can walk just fine by myself".

"Right."


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter 57**

The pub near the park was quiet with few patrons at this early hour, just as Martin had predicted. They easily found a small booth in a corner near the back where a cosy fire was blazing on the grate. Louisa sat on the bench and kicked off her soggy slippers and tucked her feet up under her thighs to warm them. Martin hung their coats on a coat rack nearby and ordered two cups of tea. He noticed that the evening soup special was beef barley and he asked the waiter to bring two bowls along with some crusty bread.

"I'm not hungry" Louisa declared, still very much upset.

"It will help warm us after being out in the cold rain." Martin was hungry even if she wasn't and it was unlikely they would be up to finishing their meal preparation even if he could convince her to return to the flat with him. He rose from the table, "I'll be right back. Give me your slippers."

"Why?"

"I'm going to finish cleaning my shoe. I'll try to dry your slippers while I'm at it. I won't be long."

Her slippers were down on the floor where she had tossed them and she leaned down awkwardly to try to pick them up. He noticed her difficulty and quickly squatted down to pick them up himself accidently knocking her head with his, "Sorry."

She rubbed her forehead lightly where he had bumped it and sitting back up, muttered, "S'okay." Nodding at her slippers now resting in his hand, she added, "Thank you."

He stood up quickly scanning her head to assure himself that there was no serious damage, then headed back to the men's lavatory. The waiter had brought a pot of tea and two mugs while he was gone and Louisa poured herself a cup and wrapped her hands around the mug relishing its warmth. Martin was quick and when he came back, he returned her slippers which were still damp, but not dripping as they were a few minutes earlier. She placed them on the bench next to her bag and reminded herself how selflessly he tended to her needs. Despite his attentiveness however, she wanted some explanations.

"So tell me about Edith."

"Yes." Martin clasped his hands on the table and looked down. "There's really not all that much to tell."

Louisa looked at him sternly. He noticed the tea and poured some into his mug, along with a splash of milk. He took a sip and replied, "We were together in medical school."

"Yes, you told me that at Christmas."

"Yes. Um ... We would study and then make ... uh ... have sex afterwards. She was the first woman I had ever been with and I thought I was in love. I asked her to marry me, but she wasn't interested in marriage. She wanted to make a mark for herself in medicine," He tucked his chin against his chest and in a domineering tone, quoted Edith, "Being the best is the only chance for immortality that any of us has. Make your mark Ellingham; get in the medical books."

"You seemed to have taken her advice."

"Mm ..." He nodded slightly without changing his serious expression.

"How long were you together in medical school?" Louisa wanted to know what their history was.

"Two years, maybe three. Hard to remember."

"That's a long time."

The waiter placed a basket of bread on their table. "I'll be back in a moment with your soup."

"Mm. Yes. Thank you." Martin was grateful for the interruption.

"So you slept together then?" Louisa was determined to find out exactly what he had felt then; perhaps it would give her an insight into his feelings now, help her sort out the truth.

"Yes."

"And was the sex good?"

"I don't know," he paused, uncertain how much to tell.

"You don't know? You kept at it for three years. It must have been 'satisfactory'". Louisa wasn't going to let him evade the question, and there was a tinge of sarcasm to her voice as she used his term to indicate that something was good.

"I suppose it was... It's just ..." He pondered a minute. How much did he want to tell Louisa, how much should he tell her? He and Edith had engaged in some activities that were well outside the realm of normal. He remembered how difficult it was for him when Dennis had suggested that Louisa had enjoyed some of those very same activities. He didn't want her struggling with the same kind of images; that might put her off him. He added, "Edith was very adventurous, and sometimes she asked me to do things that made me uncomfortable."

"Oh, I see. But you did them anyway?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you refuse?"

"You don't know Edith. She never took no for an answer, still doesn't. Also, I was very young and inexperienced."

"And you didn't want to jeopardise a good thing once you had it?" Much as she would have hoped Martin had been different, she couldn't imagine any young man turning down a regular opportunity just because his partner wanted something unusual on occasion.

"Mm. That was undoubtedly part of it. But I also thought I was in love with her."

The waiter brought the soup bowls, "Will there be anything else?" Martin looked quickly over to Louisa who shook her head so Martin waved him away, with a curt "That will be all for now."

The arrival of the soup gave Martin a chance to collect his thoughts and appease his gnawing hunger, and he started to eat hungrily. Louisa fiddled with the spoon in her bowl, took a sip of the soup and then set the spoon down. "So what happened?"

He looked up over his soup bowl, and then set his spoon down also. "She left to go abroad to further her career and I stayed in London."

"And now?" Louisa leaned forward peering at him intently.

Martin was uncomfortable under her intense scrutiny. "Uh ... she returned last spring, nearly a year ago now, to take a position with Imperial in their reproductive centre. She called me up and we had dinner." Martin reached for a slice of bread, tearing a piece off and slowly chewing it, giving himself time to think. "This was before you and I met."

"And ..."

"She wanted to pick up right where we had left off, that very same night ... tried to lure me back to her flat."

Louisa was getting frustrated. She knew Martin was never loquacious, but getting this story out of him was like pulling teeth. She felt like she was questioning a boy in year five about his part in a schoolyard fight. There were details that she needed to know that would never occur to him to disclose. "So did you go back with her?"

"No! Of course not," Martin practically shouted. Then remembering where he was, he resumed his narrative in a low voice. "She hadn't changed, still the same old Edith. Sitting there that night listening to her self-absorbed drivel, I couldn't believe I had ever thought that she was attractive ... and I had no desire to be under her thumb once again. I refused her advances, and went home."

"So why is she calling you now and suggesting a sexual rendezvous? Hmm?"

"I told you. Edith doesn't take no for an answer. She dropped by my office twice this week suggesting we go away this weekend. I told her to go away, that I wasn't interested ... as I always do ... and that I was busy. But Edith is nothing if not persistent ... hence the call this evening. I don't know how she got my unlisted number."

Louisa wrapped her hands around her tea mug, and stared into the fire for a few moments. "So she drops by your office several times a week to invite you out or for overnight trips and you turn her down every time. Is that right?"

"Yes, that's right. But like I said she won't take no for an answer."

"And she's been doing this for an entire year?"

"Yes. And it's extremely inconvenient. She's convinced that I've developed a fear of intimacy and that she can cure me, that it's just a matter of time."

She wondered to herself if he realised how far-fetched this explanation sounded, and she confronted him, "Do you have any idea how implausible your story sounds?"

"It's not a story Louisa; it's the truth." Her statement had stung. He pulled back from the table, both hurt and angry.

"Okay." She wasn't looking for a fight and she tried to keep her voice calm as she told herself it was important to keep him talking if she were to learn more. "Can I assume you haven't told her about me."

"Not any of her business."

"Well maybe it should be her business; then she wouldn't keep bothering you. Did you think of that?"

"Um ... no ... maybe." Martin reached for another slice of bread when he had a stroke of inspiration. He leaned back across the table and shared his thought in an excited whisper. "No, I haven't told her about you; I feared that she would see that as a challenge. Maybe she found out about you and ... ahem ... upped her game so to speak." Martin nodded his head as if it were obvious.

Louisa looked at him in puzzlement. Martin seemed to think that she would comprehend whatever it was that had occurred to him, but she was lost and she shook her head ever so slightly from side to side, "Martin, what are you trying to say?"

"It makes sense. Hospitals have festering cesspools of gossip swirling around day and night and Edith thinks it's important to stay in the thick of them. She obviously heard I was with someone at the reception." He sat up straight and sneered. "She undoubtedly put two and two together and realised that I was spending the weekend with someone else. I bet she left that message just to cause trouble between us."

Louisa took a deep breath and stared at Martin as she contemplated what he had just told her. It certainly was conceivable that a woman constantly scorned would make such a call just to cause mischief. But why had he not told Edith that he was seeing someone months ago? She picked up her soup spoon and started to eat. She was fairly certain that Martin's story was complete. She even thought it was likely to be the truth, or what Martin perceived to be the truth, although his failure to tell Edith of their relationship was unsettling. Martin had told her things that she would never have wanted to tell if she were in his shoes. Edith's version would undoubtedly be different, and she would never know that side of the story. She needed more time to ponder all that he had told her. "This soup is very good. I hadn't realised I was so hungry," she commented as she reached for a slice of bread.

"Yes, perhaps we should order something additional, possibly a salad we could share." Did her changing the subject indicate that she believed him? He was uncertain how to proceed.

"No. This is very filling; but please order something more if you are still hungry. You always eat more than I do ... something about being a big man ...hmm?" She gave him a small smile.

"I can always cut up some cheese and apple when we get home." Seeing a dark look pass across her face, he added reluctantly, "Or do you want to spend the night somewhere else?"

"I don't think so ... but I am still confused ... and hurt. I still don't understand why you didn't just tell her about me back in January, when we ... you know ... when we ..." She trailed off staring into the fire. "I think I will sleep in the guest bedroom at least for tonight."

"Yes, I see." He absently traced a circle on the table with his fingers. "Do you want me to cancel our plans with the Parsons tomorrow?"

"No, I'd like to see them." Perhaps Michelle could help her sort the Edith quandary.

"Right." There was one more thing he wanted to say to her, but he was uncertain how to proceed. He was desperate not to lose her and remembered her words at the castle, _"I've been waiting to hear you say nice things'_. He had been making an effort to tell her that she looked nice and things like that, but was it enough? _"Is this the right time? What if she really thinks I am having an affair with Edith? Will it make any difference? What more have you got to lose? Just tell her."_

He reached for her hands across the table, but she pulled them back onto her lap. He retracted his hands as well and sighed, "Louisa?"

She looked into his sad eyes, "Yes?"

He looked down, fiddling with his soup spoon, "Louisa," he whispered so softly she had to strain to hear him. "Louisa, I love you." He raised his head hoping to look into her eyes, but she had bent her head downward and closed her eyes. He continued, "I would never deceive you. I hate that you think I might."

She lifted her head and opened her eyes, gazing at him tenderly, but she was unable to reply. Neither one of them had said those words before, not even when he had proposed earlier in the week and she felt the momentousness of the occasion, but her heart was so full that she was certain that she would start crying uncontrollably if she tried to answer him. She reached over and pulled his hands from where he held them under the table and squeezed them softly. Looking away, she told him, "I think we should go home now. Can you get the bill?"

His flat was nearby so they decided to walk back. It was still raining and Louisa slipped her arm around his waist so he could cover both of them with his umbrella. He noticed that she was crying and he stopped, pulling her to the edge of the walkway. "Are you alright?" he asked with grave concern, certain that he had upset her.

She held on to him more tightly, "I'm fine. It's been an emotional evening, but really I'm okay. Let's keep going."


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter 58**

Joe Penhale was on duty when they entered Martin's building and he greeted them in his usual jovial manner. "Evenin' Mr. Ellingham. Evenin' Louisa." He tipped his head. "Terrible night out ain't it?"

Martin and Louisa, in no mood to chat, briefly glanced in his direction as they headed to the elevator. Louisa politely acknowledged his comment with a nod of her head and a quiet "Yes.".

He prattled on, following them towards the elevator, "'Course you two look like drowned rats. Why didn't ..."

Martin gritted his teeth and growled, "Penhale, shut up."

But Penhale wasn't deterred and moved closer spreading his arms and shrugging his shoulders to indicate his concern, "I was just ..."

After all that they had been through that evening, listening to Penhale was more than Martin could tolerate. He turned from the elevator with thunder in his face and snarled, "What part of shut up did you not understand Penhale?"

Louisa was taken aback; she had never seen him confront anyone with such a nasty comment, and in so vile a manner, "Martin!"

Martin grabbed her elbow and hurried her through the elevator doors and pressed the button for his floor.

"Martin that was uncalled for." She turned around to face him and gave him her most severe look.

"Hmmph." Martin rolled his eyes and grunted, "The man's an idiot. It's not part of his job description to comment on our appearance."

"That may be, but still, you were rude and ill-mannered. If you were one of my students I'd give you a detention for saying that to another student."

"Why? 'Shut up' isn't vulgar. It's perfectly direct, easily understood." Martin felt his reaction was more than appropriate and he was not going to be convinced otherwise.

Louisa was equally adamant in her position. "Yes, it may not be considered vulgar, but it is crude and uncouth. Well mannered people do not tell other people to shut-up, certainly not in that tone of voice." She shivered slightly with distaste. "You may use it on your registrars in hospital; it's not my place to judge that, but you will not use it when I am around. Do you understand?" She was determined that he understood, and she gave him "the look".

Martin had long since recognised "the look" and understood that he had acted in a way that she considered unacceptable. He thought that he had been quite civil when he first asked Penhale to stop talking, to shut-up; it was only when he continued to natter on that Martin had felt a more forceful approach was required. It's true that he was angry with Penhale for ignoring him and had lost his temper. Undoubtedly that was what Louisa had reacted to. Nonetheless, the man was an employee of the building residents and it wasn't his place to comment on their appearance. Louisa was entirely too friendly with the staff; he would need to address that with her in future, but not tonight. Given the highly charged emotional state they were both in, he decided the best approach was to let the entire subject drop for the moment.

The elevator stopped and opened onto their floor and Martin held it open as Louisa exited and headed toward the entrance to his flat. He fished the keys out of his pocket, quickly selected the door key which he inserted into the lock, and opened the door,holding it for Louisa, who marched past him and quickly removed her coat, handing it to him. "I'm sorry about the way the evening has ended, just as we were getting things sorted about Edith. But there it is. I'm going to bed. It's been a long evening and I'm exhausted." She reached up and kissed him softly on the cheek and added, "Don't worry, we'll work through this."

She turned to head to the guest room, and as she took her first step, she stopped, looked down at her slippers which were filthy and soaked through with water, "I guess we need to bin these." She shucked them off, stooped to pick them up and traipsed into the kitchen where she disposed of them and then quickly made her way to the spare room. As she reached the door, she turned and saw him standing there, still holding her coat, looking bereft. She hesitated for a moment, tempted to turn back and forgive him everything, but then remembered how he treated Joe, and instead gave him a sympathetic smile and a wave of her hand before she went in and closed the door.

Martin had a difficult night. Things had been going so well between them that entire week and she had even intimated that she would accept his marriage proposal this summer. Had Edith, with one well placed phone call, completely scuttled his chances with Louisa? He thought back to when he had first encountered Edith. She was brilliant, his intellectual equal, and he found their study sessions incredibly stimulating as they pushed each other to master more and more challenging subjects. One night after a particularly intense session, she reached across the table where they were studying and kissed him, his first kiss. He was entranced, and when she took him back to her room, to her bed and seduced him, the intensity of his feelings had overwhelmed him. It became a pattern: study, sex, then more sex, then more study. He found himself completely under her spell, always anxiously awaiting their next encounter; but Edith was not going to let hormonal urges interfere with her ambitions. When she refused his marriage proposal, and then when he discovered that he was not the only man she entertained, he was devastated.

Even so, he found over the succeeding years that he was attracted to strong ambitious women just like Edith. He never let his emotions take over again, never let the occasional woman who breached his defences distract him from his life's work. That is until Louisa. She was strong and intelligent, certainly not as brilliant as he himself, although, as he thought about it, she did display considerable understanding when he discussed his procedures with her at the end of the day, quickly picking up the terminology he used. And she was just as quick as he when they worked on the Sunday crossword puzzles that they had discovered they enjoyed doing together. Perhaps it was just a matter of a superior education. Ah ... it crossed hid mind that if they were to marry and have children, the education of said children could be a minefield, a real source of future discord just as it had been in his dream. That was too far in the future and he shook it from his thoughts.

Strong and intelligent as she was, she was also kind and thoughtful, gentle with him, not demanding or domineering as Edith was, and he found that comforting. She loved her work, and she actually cared about her students, wanting the best for them, whereas Edith saw her patients as instruments to further her career. Even he cared about his patients and their welfare; he felt particularly compassionate for those whose bodies had betrayed them through no fault of their own. His brusque and distant manner was his way of protecting himself on the rare occasion when he wasn't able to help a patient. If he was demanding of his registrars, he was even more demanding of himself, performing each procedure to the best of his ability to help his patients, not to further his career. Louisa understood that; she told him that was one of the reasons she cared for him.

How could he let his temper get the better of him with Penhale. Perhaps she would be here with him in his bed if he had not snapped. And since when was "shut-up" such a bad phrase; he had heard it often enough at school, so much so that it was second nature to tell someone to shut-up when they made an inane comment, or when they were distracting him when he was trying to concentrate, or when he just wanted to be left alone. She would probably want to talk about it in the morning. He sighed and turned over punching his pillow, trying to get to sleep.

Louisa had an equally difficult night, trying to sort through all that had happened after Edith's message. Her ex Dennis had been unfaithful from the very start of their marriage and the thought that Martin could do the same had sent a chill through her heart. She had been certain that he was honest and would be steadfast; everything she had heard of him and all that she had experienced herself had convinced her of that. But then Edith left that message and her fears ran amok. Over and over Edith's message replayed itself in her mind; that voice, so confident and self-assured, certain that he would jump at the opportunity to be with her. With each recollection, Louisa found herself sobbing into the pillow.

His description of his relationship with Edith during medical school was difficult to hear, especially when he admitted to participating in sexual practices with her that made him uncomfortable. Why did he have to tell her that? It was worse than what Dennis had said because she hadn't done any of those things that Dennis had described, not that she knew what they actually were. Martin had just now admitted to participating in sexual practices that were considered outside what was considered normal, and her mind was full of images of him with some faceless woman, doing what? She didn't want to know. Did he do whatever it was with others? Would he want to do them with her? She didn't think so since he said he was uncomfortable doing them even then. But her mind wouldn't stop racing with all these thoughts and her efforts to stop her tears seemed useless. She wanted her old Martin back; she wanted what they had had before that woman had left that message.

Once she pulled herself together, she realised that tonight's drama wasn't all that different from last month's when Dennis had maligned her. Obviously they needed to talk this through. Martin wouldn't be receptive to this discussion. She knew from experience that he was uncomfortable discussing their relationship, one of the flaws in his character with which she would eventually have to learn to live. Of course, as she thought about it, he would probably see her occasional need to discuss their relationship as a character flaw as well. It was something they would have to work on.

She was certain that they would work through this and that their eventual marriage would be the stronger for it. Despite this set-back, she was still certain that she wanted to marry Martin, but she also wanted to know more about this Edith. Martin had probably disclosed as much as he was able. Perhaps she could get Michelle Parsons to share more information. Or she could enlist Holly; with all her connections she could ask around and see what she could find out about Martin and his past. She wasn't sure she wanted to share her concerns about Edith with Holly; Holly's poor opinion of men in general and her vivid imagination would be forever a thorn in her side even if, rather when, Martin was vindicated. Holly would be her source of last resort.

Tonight's episode with Joe Penhale was unsettling. This was the nasty side of Martin Ellingham that Michael had warned her about. Certainly he was distraught when they came in from the rain, and even she wanted to ignore Joe, but Martin was just so nasty; there was no other word for it.

Would he turn on her like that sometime in the future? Even when he confronted her about Dennis, his tone was more one of betrayal and humiliation at what her behaviour had been. He wasn't hateful, not like he was with Joe. Nevertheless it was all the more reason to get to know him better before committing. But what she found most troublesome was his argument that "shut-up" was acceptable. How could he not know that phrase was demeaning? She knew he lacked some, okay many, social graces, but how could his parents, or even Joan, not educate him in more genteel ways of dealing with people? Again she thought, this was another one of his character flaws she would have to learn to accept. It was unlikely he would change much. What was the maxim? Never go into a marriage thinking you can change your partner. She might be able to polish him up a bit, but he was always going to be blunt and say what was on his mind. And if she was honest with herself, she kind of liked him that way.

As her thoughts settled, she decided on a plan of action for the morning. First she would ask Martin if he had a picture of Edith. It might be painful, but she needed to put a face to this nemesis. Then she would admit to him that she was hurt, just as he was hurt by what Dennis had said. They needed to learn to trust and to always be truthful with one another. She would tell him that she believed what he told her about Edith, just as he had believed her when she denied what Dennis had said about her. Each of them might always carry that hurt with them, but it should help them grow their relationship. Then there was the matter of good manners. He had warned her when they first met that he could be difficult, and might say things that were hurtful at times, and she had accepted that, promising that she would let him know when he misbehaved. So far, there had been only a few times when she had to act on that promise, but she needed to renew it. He needed to know that it was important to be civil to everyone, no matter who they were.

With a plan for going forward, she settled back into the pillows, pulled the duvet up over her ears and completely exhausted, fell asleep.

**Author's note: I've been posting this story for just over a year and as we approach another Thanksgiving holiday here in the US, I want to wish all those who are celebrating a happy and peaceful holiday. I myself am so thankful for all the friends I have made in the Doc Martin world and especially my fan fiction friends and readers. What a wonderful community you all are.**


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter 59**

Martin rose at his usual early hour despite his sleepless night. He had to attend morning rounds, and after showering, he wrote Louisa a note and left it on the kitchen counter, letting her know he would return by eight. Just before leaving, he peeked into the guest bedroom observing that Louisa was sound asleep. He lingered in the doorway watching the rise and fall of her torso with each breath. It was good that she was sleeping; they had a challenging morning ahead of them.

When he returned, he noticed that she was still asleep. It was unusual for her to be sleeping this late and he sadly thought she must have had a restless night as well. He headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

Louisa woke a few minutes later scooting over to the side of the bed where Martin's substantial presence usually lay. It took her a moment or two to realise he wasn't there and then several more moments after opening her eyes to realise that she wasn't in his bed, but rather in the guest bedroom. Then the memory of the previous evening hit her and she groaned, turning over and burying her head in the pillow. From the smell of Martin's special roast coffee brewing in the kitchen, she knew that he was up and that the morning ahead was going to include a difficult discussion. Steeling herself, she rolled her legs over the side of the bed and then pushed herself up. "Might as well get on with it", she muttered sighing.

She took a quick shower, brushed her teeth and hair, and put on her dressing gown. She felt much better, but as she looked in the mirror she could see that her eyes were still swollen from last night's tears. There was nothing to be done about that now, and so she headed out to the kitchen. There he was in his immaculate suit and tie, with only the apron that he always wore in the kitchen to mar the elegance of his attire. The dark circles around his eyes were her only hint that he must not have slept well last night either.

"You're dressed." She stated the obvious.

"Yes, I had rounds." He had been cutting up some fruit and he held the paring knife loosely in his hand. He looked at her warily. Would she start on him first thing? He was feeling defensive.

"Early." She wasn't certain how to approach him either.

"Yes."

They stood each on one side of the counter looking at the other trying to assess the atmosphere, how to restore their usual easy morning camaraderie. Louisa knew Martin was lost, more lost than she, so she walked around to his side of the counter and took his hand. When he did not withdraw it, she looked up at him and asked, "Peace?"

"Yes," he replied with relief in his voice. She wrapped her free arm around his waist and rested her head against his shoulder. He put the knife down on the cutting board and returned the hug asking, "Would you like some breakfast? Some tea?"

"Tea would be lovely, thanks." She released him from her hug and gave him a tentative smile.

He poured her tea and placed it along with the milk and sugar on the table, and pulled out her chair. In a minute, he set out the fruit he had cut up along with the flatware and serviettes. "Eggs and soldiers okay?"

'Yes, thank you." She sat at the table and observed him as he removed the eggs from the water and popped the bread into the toaster. Even after her angry words last night, he still prepared her breakfast. She was grateful. It was his nurturing nature that she had found so attractive when they were first getting to know each other, and she remembered why it was she loved him.

He brought the plates to the table and sat down. He took a bite of his fruit and looked hesitantly across the table at her where she was cradling her tea with her fingers and staring down at her plate. "Aren't you hungry? You should eat." He paused a moment, then added, "We need to decide on a menu for tonight and get supplies before the shops get too crowded."

"Mm." She sipped her tea, then put the cup down and speared a piece of fruit with her fork. "This is so nice. Thank you for fixing breakfast after going into hospital this morning. You should have woken me so I could help."

"You needed your sleep."

"As did you, yet you still rose early to tend to your patients."

Martin grunted in reply and returned his attention to his fruit.

She wanted him to know that she was concerned for his welfare, not just her own, "I guess neither of us slept very well last night." She cupped her tea in her hands and looked at him across the table. She was hungry, but her throat was tight with emotion and she was having trouble swallowing.

He lifted his eyes up to meet hers. He still wasn't accustomed to conversing during a meal, "No."

She continued. "Thank you for telling me about Edith. It helps me to understand ... although ... I almost wish you hadn't told me all you did."

"You wanted to know." He pushed his empty fruit bowl to the side and examined his egg before removing the top of the shell and taking a bite.

"Yes, I did." She cracked the shell of her egg as well and dipped the toast in and nibbled at it, chewing slowly while she composed her thoughts. "I think your disclosure helped me to understand and to accept that you are not now having an affair with Edith. But ... well ..." She took another small bite of her egg before continuing, "Now I understand how you felt when Dennis told you those things about me. It's very hard to push those images from your mind. I'm sorry I did not understand before."

"Ummm ... right." Last night as he lay in his bed not sleeping, he knew she would want to talk about their relationship and it was almost as uncomfortable as he had anticipated.

i"I did a lot of thinking last night. We know each other's history now. Let's put it behind us and move forward."

"Yes. Good."

"And Martin ..."

"Yes?" It came out almost as a groan.

"I should have trusted that you wouldn't deceive me. We need to agree to trust each other, to always tell each other the truth so we have no reason to suspect the other."

"I am always truthful."

"No little white lies?"

"It's always best to tell the truth."

"Hmmm,"she paused as she thought to herself, "_Maybe not always, but we don't need to go there this morning."_ "Yes, it is. Let's promise to always be truthful to each other."

"Yes. I am. I will."

They continued their meal in silence, Louisa still picking at her food. As she was finishing her tea, she asked Martin, "Do you have any pictures of Edith?"

Martin was surprised, "No. No, I don't."

"Not even a group photo from medical school?"

"Perhaps. I can look."

Then remembering how she had done research on Martin with Holly's computer, she had an idea. "Perhaps we can find one on the internet."

"Yes. Perhaps." He had finished his breakfast and stood to take his dishes into the kitchen.

"Why don't you look for one while I do the washing up?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Now go. I'll get the kitchen cleaned up."

She had barely touched her food, but she rose and started to gather her dishes, but he stopped her. "Very well, I'll go check the laptop, but you've barely eaten anything. You need to eat to keep your energy up. Can I prepare some thing else for you?"

She sat back down in her chair, "No, it's very good. I'm just not all that hungry this morning." She ate a few more bites as he stood over her, concern etched on his face. When he was satisfied that she had taken enough to provide her with a modicum of energy for the morning chores, he carried the dishes still in his hand to the sink and then walked over to the lounge where his laptop was set on a small desk in the corner. As soon as he turned his attention to the laptop, she picked up her dishes and walked into the kitchen. There was very little to do, and within a few minutes, Louisa had finished the washing up and went over to where Martin was working on his laptop. "There wasn't much left to clean. You're always so good about cleaning up as you go."

He nodded in agreement, "Yes, it's a good habit."

He had quickly found a picture of Edith from a recent conference at which she spoke, but was reviewing a different set of pictures when she walked over. As she looked over his shoulder, he said, "These came in yesterday. Do you want to order one?" He tilted the screen up to give her a better view.

A photographer had been on hand at the hospital event on Thursday evening and, despite his protestations, she had convinced Martin to have their picture taken. She thought a picture of them as a couple would be lovely to place on her bedside table or on her desk at work. There were four different poses and she thought they were all good, but she did have one quibble. "Why don't you smile? I love it when you smile and although I think these are all well done, I would have preferred to have one with you smiling or at least looking less cross."

"Hmmm ... what's the point?" He shrugged his shoulders.

"To make me happy." She ruffled his hair with her hand and leaned around to face him. "Would you have preferred the picture if I had been solemn like you?" With some difficulty, she screwed her face into a frown.

"Hmmm ..." He turned his attention away from the screen to gaze into her face just inches from his and thought about that for the short moment before she lost control of her frown and lapsed into a grin. No, he loved her smile and unable to resist, he stole a quick kiss. "No, I wouldn't. I will try to be less serious next time." He wasn't sure he could promise a full smile, but he thought he could avoid a frown.

She beamed at him and gave him a quick kiss in return, "Good. I will hold you to that promise. Now, which one do I want? They are all so good. I will have to think about it. Scoot over." She sat down on the edge of the chair, nudged him over with her hip and started to scroll through the pictures gazing at each one trying to evaluate which one she preferred. "May I order more than one? Maybe one for my office and one for my cottage?"

"Yes, of course, order as many as you wish." He himself planned to order one of each pose to gaze at whilst she was away in Portwenn. He rose to find a tablet on which to write their grocery list for the night's dinner. "What do you think we should prepare for tonight's supper? I'll make a list."

They settled on a menu and while Martin checked his cupboard for necessary supplies, Louisa dressed. When she came back, she noticed the laptop was still up and she went to close it. When she closed out the file with the photographs, the page with Edith's picture and bio popped up. She sat down to examine it. Edith was not unattractive, in fact, she was quite attractive, trim with fine regular features and blazing red hair. She wasn't expecting the red hair. Did Martin find redheads attractive?

The list of Edith's accomplishments was quite impressive and once again Louisa's insecurities flared up. Why would Martin prefer a lowly primary schoolteacher to someone as accomplished as Edith who was not only beautiful, but wanted him as well? She reminded herself that Martin did ask her to marry him, so he must see something in her to value. Was it enough to last a lifetime? It occurred to her that perhaps he was just looking for a genial companion who could bear his children and who better than a primary schoolteacher? Assuming Edith was the same age as he, she would be approaching the end of her childbearing years. Louisa fretted as she delved further into Edith's background. Martin was adamant that he had no interest in Edith, but would he eventually tire of her and succumb to the advances of Edith or someone like her once she had given him a family? How could she know? And then there was his dream ... so many sides to Martin Ellingham.

She closed down the laptop and went to look for Martin to see if he was ready to head for the shops. She found him with his head in the refrigerator, and he looked up at her, "I was certain that I saw some basil in here just last night."

"Oh, I tore it up to sauté with the vegetables last night and then ... " She waved her fingers in the air in a gesture of futility and looked around the kitchen as if to find it on a counter somewhere ... "I don't know. Did you clean up after I went to bed last night?"

"Ah ... yes. I'll put it on the list. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes." She went to fetch her coat, and they headed out the door.

As they were waiting for the elevator, she said, "Edith's quite beautiful, isn't she?"

Martin groaned, "No, she's not."

The elevator arrived and the door opened. As they stepped into the car, Martin took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling, "Can we forget about Edith, at least for today?"

Louisa looked over at his face, then turned her gaze to the ceiling scanning it for whatever had caught his attention. Noticing nothing amiss, she returned her gaze to Martin, observed his fingers twitching by his side, and replied simply, "Okay."


	60. Chapter 60

**Chapter 60**

Their trip to the shops was therapeutic; as they debated the cuts of meat and the freshness of the vegetables, all the stress of the last evening dissipated and once again they were best friends, working as a team on something they really enjoyed. By mid-afternoon, they had finished the shopping, completed the necessary meal preparations and set the table with Martin's best china, crystal, linen and the flowers they had picked up at the market. Louisa had to admit he had impeccable taste for someone who rarely, if ever, entertained. When she asked, he merely said that the china, crystal and linens were heirlooms from his grandparents who entertained often. He remembered seeing them at holidays as a child, not that he was often at the table, as they adhered to the adage that children should be seen and not heard. When he was brought in by his nanny to say goodnight to the adults, he remembered being enchanted by the way the lights sparkled off the table; it was like a fairly land to his child's eyes. His mother found them too old-fashioned for her taste and was planning to dispose of them when his grandmother passed and he asked to have them.

Now that they had finished the initial preparations for Chris and Michelle's visit, they both admitted to being exhausted after a sleepless night, and they lay down for a short nap, falling asleep immediately. Louisa woke first and found herself spooned up against Martin with his arm wrapped around her waist. She was just able to see the clock and realised that it was time for them to arise if they were to have the final meal preparations complete by the time Chris and Michelle arrived. She tried to slip gently out from under Martin's embrace, but woke him with her movements. "No, don't get up just yet", he murmured, pulling her more tightly to him and rubbing his face in her hair.

"Martin, it's late. We need to get ready for Chris and Michelle's visit."

"Mmmm ... yes. Unfortunate timing." He rolled her over and started nibbling her neck.

"Martin stop that! We need to get up."

"Yes, in a moment," he agreed, then proceeded to kiss her deeply on the lips.

Laughing, she scolded him, "Wait till later. We can snog all night long if you're up for it." And leering at her, he agreed, "I look forward to it".

She managed to escape his embrace. "I've got to change. I don't want to greet our guests in these wrinkled clothes."

A few minutes later they were both in the kitchen, finishing the meal preparations. Louisa opened the bottle of wine she had selected and Martin laid out the starters. When all was ready and before their guests arrived, Louisa broached the topic of Martin's outburst with Joe Penhale the night before. "Martin, when the evening is over and we have walked Chris and Michele to the door downstairs, I think it would be appropriate if you apologised to Joe for telling him to 'shut-up' last night."

Martin looked up from the pan he was washing, and paused for several seconds. "No", he said, and then returned to finish scrubbing the pan.

Louisa couldn't believe his response, "No? Martin, you were rude, and it upset me. I really think you should apologise."

Martin had finished with the pan and was now washing several cooking utensils. He put them down to respond. "The man was making inappropriate remarks about our appearance. What would you have had me say?"

She hadn't thought about how she would have handled the situation, probably because Joe was stating the obvious. They had both looked like drowned rats. "I probably would have ignored him until the elevator arrived. I guess you could have just said 'Good-night, Penhale' in a forceful manner. That would have been the polite way of letting him know the conversation was over. Saying 'shut-up' was just crude and vulgar."

He looked at her and acknowledged her concern. "Right." He returned to his washing up, adding "I accept that you consider the phrase 'shut-up' to be rude, but I find it can be useful. I will avoid its use in your presence, but I will not apologise to that moron for using it."

She was somewhat taken aback at his outright refusal to apologise, but recognised that this was not an argument she was likely to win. At least he seemed to understand her position so she replied with a curt, "Very well."

Just then the bell rang notifying them that Chris and Michelle had arrived; Martin went to the door and greeted them with Louisa at his side. Over the years, Chris and Michelle had had several conversations regarding Martin and his home and they were curious to see how he lived. He had visited with them regularly, if every few years could be considered regular, but he hadn't invited them to his home since they had graduated and gone their separate ways. They knew he came from a privileged background, but he had never been ostentatious; rather quite the opposite. In medical school his flat had been comfortable and elegant, but spare, and they were curious whether he had become more materialistic with age or if he still took no interest in possessions other than those required for basic human comforts.

They were pleasantly surprised when after greeting both Martin and Louisa at the door to find a beautifully furnished flat, predominantly traditional, but with eclectic items of art scattered around the main living area and on the walls. The prominently displayed gold Buddha caught Chris' eye and he wandered over to it. "I remember this from medical school. Didn't E...uuff..." Michelle poked him in the ribs to keep him from sticking his foot in it again by bringing up Edith. Martin had acquired the Buddha while he was involved with Edith and rumour had it that she had given it to him as a gift. Michelle had to wonder how her usually very politic husband could be so obtuse when it came to Martin and Edith. She wasn't sure how much Martin may have revealed about Edith to Louisa on the way back to Portwenn from their Boxing Day party, but there was no need to bring her up now.

"I see you have added to your Buddha collection since med school. Is this one marble?" Michelle picked up one of the smaller Buddhas examining it more closely."

"No, It's white jade. I picked it up on a trip to Hong Kong years ago."

"Really? Do you travel extensively?" As fond as she was of Martin, she still felt he was an enigma.

"No, just for conferences."

Louisa interrupted to ask if she could get them any wine and Michelle followed her over to the kitchen to help her pour.

"Mart – do you have a good single malt?" Chris remembered that Martin usually kept a good Scotch handy for celebratory occasions and Chris wasn't one to pass up a good whiskey.

"Uh yes, I do." Martin replied and headed to the kitchen and opened a cupboard in the back in which there were several small bottles of fine old single malts from some of the oldest distilleries in Scotland. Louisa was surprised to see the contents of this cabinet since Martin had always made such a point about the deleterious effects of alcohol on the body, and watched in fascination as he poured two small tasting glasses, one for each of them and added a few drops of the bottled water. He handed one glass to Chris and lifted the other under his nose swirling the contents around and sniffing. "Ahh." She made a note to herself to ask him about it later. She had poured some of that same bottled water into a wine glass for him and handed it to him, saying "I had poured this for you. Do you want it?" He nodded in thanks, "Yes, I'll have it with dinner."

With her wine glass in hand, Michelle continued her tour of Martin's lounge, "Martin, your flat is just beautiful. Such interesting art work. I imagine there is a story behind each piece. Chris, look at this painting; isn't it unusual?" Louisa followed sipping from her glass and listening in as Martin discussed some of his favourite art pieces. She noticed that he took a small sip of his whiskey every now and then, a very small sip, and decided that he was partaking just to be sociable; still she would ask him about it later. She left them for a moment to fetch the starters which Martin had arranged neatly onto a tray and she carried them over to where the three of them were debating the technique used in one of Martin's favourite works. She had not heard the stories behind most of his art collection and listened in before interrupting to offer them something to eat.

"We can start our meal whenever you are ready. The salads are on the table, and the main course is just finishing up and ready to go whenever we are. Martin has prepared most of our meal. I don't know if you are aware, but Martin is a very accomplished cook." She grinned broadly and arched her eyebrows, "You know what they say: 'The way to a girl's heart is through her stomach'."

"Ah, we were wondering what it was you saw in our old mate. Now we know." Chris replied heartily. Martin's face reflected the confusion he was having in understanding the last part of this conversation, but he tried to cover it up, "Louisa was also instrumental in our meal's preparation. But yes, let's go ahead and eat. We can discuss the artwork later."

As they were finishing their meal, Michelle asked Louisa whether she enjoyed the hospital fundraiser. Michelle had had years of experience at these functions and knew they could be delightful or mind-numbing and had counselled Louisa on what to expect. Louisa was happy to report that she had had a very pleasant evening, although she admitted that she wasn't able to respond on Martin's behalf. "Martin, go get your laptop," she commanded him.

"Louisa, why ever do you want the laptop?"

"I want to show Chris and Michelle our picture."

"Ah, yes." Martin rose up to retrieve the laptop as she explained to them that she wanted them to see the portrait they had taken and get their opinion as to which was the best. Martin returned and opened the file with the pictures. As Chris and Michelle were scrolling through the photos, Chris couldn't help commenting, "I'm surprised that you were able to get Martin to consent to pose for these. He was always the one who managed to slip out of the room as soon as anyone brought out a camera. We've very few pictures of him from our days in med school. Of course, even now, he doesn't look too happy about having his photo taken."

"Very true," Louisa replied. "He's promised me that he will smile the next time."

Chris raised his eyebrows at Martin in disbelief, "Really?"

Martin just nodded his head, "Hmmph ..."

As she peered more closely at the photos, Michelle commented, "Louisa, that is a beautiful necklace. Where ever did you find it?"

"It is beautiful isn't it? Martin selected it for me. Would you like to see it up close? It's just in here." Louisa nodded in the direction of the bedroom, "Come with me." Michelle stood up and followed her noting to Chris and Martin, "We won't be long."

"I was hoping we'd get a chance to chat without the men around," Louisa said to Michelle as they entered the bedroom.

"Me too. I was wondering how you and Martin are getting along?"

As Louisa pulled out the necklace and showed it to her, Michelle added, "This really is gorgeous. It looks expensive. You must be getting along very well if he bought this for you."

"It was expensive. I was looking for something simple, a gold chain to wear with my dress, but Martin saw this and insisted that I try on, and then insisted that I get it." As she held the necklace up and watched the light sparkle through the gems, she added, " It is beautiful, isn't it? And yes, we are getting on quite nicely."

"Wedding bells anytime soon?" Michelle asked in a quiet tone.

"Ahh ... not just yet. I'll be here for summer break and we'll see how it goes. If we don't drive each other bodmin, then maybe yes."

Michelle hugged her friend, "We'll have to get together soon when you get back to Cornwall and you can tell me all about it."

"Yes," Louisa replied with a hesitant smile. "But there is something I wanted to ask you."

"What about?" Michelle looked at her seriously. "A problem?"

"No, no. Well maybe. What can you tell me about Edith."

"Edith? Why do you want to know about Edith? That was over years ago."

"Maybe not. She called here last night and left a message that made me think they were still seeing each other. Martin denied it, but ... "

Michelle reached out and placed her hand on Louisa's arm solicitously. "Oh dear, that is distressing. How are you doing?"

"We had a difficult night, but I think we're okay now. Still, I'd like to know more about her."

Michelle put her finger up to her chin and thought for a moment. "Well they were together for several years in med school. Of course Edith was seeing other men as well, but I don't think Martin knew that, at least not at the time. Sometimes she joined us when we partied together and sometimes she didn't. I think we may have been a little too low brow for her taste. None of us really cared for her. Martin was besotted of course, first girlfriend and that sort of thing. It all ended when she went abroad for specialization."

Louisa absently caressed the gem she was still holding as she thought over Michelle's words. "Do you think Martin would get back with her now?"

"It's unlikely; she hurt him pretty badly. Although ... Martin did confide to Chris on Boxing Day that she has been pursuing him pretty hard since her return, and that she wouldn't leave him alone. I don't think he was happy about it. I could ask Chris if he knows anything more."

"Would you? Martin told me pretty much the same thing, but I can't help but wonder. I saw her picture and she is quite beautiful, very slim and elegant. And she is so highly regarded. I can't help but wonder what he is doing with me when he could have her."

Michelle heard these words and saw the tears in Louisa's eyes and reached out to give her a hug, "Oh my sweet, sweet friend. Martin is a one-woman man, and he has decided that you are that woman. Can you imagine him trying to juggle more than one woman at a time? It's all he can do to manage one."

She pulled back and smiled at Louisa who managed a grin and then started to giggle. "I guess you are right. I can't imagine Martin carrying on with more than one of us. He is so straightforward and tongue-tied at times; he'd never be able to carry it off." Then she turned serious, "Of course you know what they say. It's always the ones you least expect."

"I'll ask Chris what he thinks and we'll talk about it back in Cornwall. But I really don't think you have anything to worry about. Okay?"

"Okay, yeah." Louisa laid her necklace into its case and ran her fingers over the jewel one more time before putting it back in the drawer, then looked up at Michelle, "One more thing. I've never seen Martin drink alcohol before. Did he drink much in med school?"

"Not a lot, but he did enjoy a pint now and then after exams, and he always had a good supply of scotch in his flat. We couldn't really afford good whiskey at the time, so Chris always enjoyed visiting Martin."

"Interesting."

As soon as the women had left the room, Chris leaned over and asked his old mate, "So, you two seem to be quite happy. Have you taken my advice and asked her to marry you yet?"

Martin pulled back, unsure how to answer him and his relaxed demeanor morphed into a frown. Prevarication was not in his nature. "Uhhh ... well ..."

"You haven't! Better get on with it before someone else snaps her up or she gets tired of waiting."

Martin stared at Chris, debating whether to confide in him or not. It annoyed him that everyone, well his Aunty Joan and Chris, seemed to think he was unable to manage his own life. So, with a tinge of indignation, Martin replied, "It so happens that I did ask her, earlier this week, and she turned me down."

"Really?" Chris was astounded as he was certain that Louisa was madly in love with his friend. "Sorry to hear that. But you're still together, yes? Did she give you a reason?"

Raising his eyebrows and rolling his eyes, Martin gave Chris a sceptical look and explained, "Said we hadn't been through 'coon season' yet."

Chris leaned back and laughed, "'Coon season? What's that all about?"

Martin shook his head. "Don't ask, some advice an American cousin gave her. She told me to ask again this summer."

"Ah, so we should expect a wedding sometime this fall, I expect."

Martin tucked his head down and looked up at his friend, giving him a sly grin, "Perhaps."

Chris lifted his now empty glass, "Say, how about another whiskey; we'll drink to your good luck this summer."

"Yes". They both got up and walked over to Martin's spare liquor cabinet.

"Had any more run-ins with Edith?"

Chris was full of questions this evening, but Martin was relieved that he brought up this subject; it saved him from having to broach it himself. "Unfortunately yes. She called here last night and left a message that implied we were seeing each other, if you get my drift."

"Oh ... Louisa heard it?"

Martin poured out another glass and handed it to his friend. "Unfortunately"

"Cause any trouble?"

"Much. I think we have it all sorted, but I don't know what to do about her. Any advice?"

"Same as at Boxing Day. Tell her you are already involved with someone else."

"Hmm, Louisa is upset as well that I haven't told Edith about her." He shrugged his shoulders. "I've told Edith I'm not interested, to leave me alone, but she just takes that as a challenge. I'm afraid that if I told her I was with Louisa, she would see that as an additional challenge and step up her advances."

"Ah yes. I do remember that she never let anything or anyone get in her way when she decided on something. You could be in a bind, old mate."

"Yes. Short of a court order, I don't know how to get rid of her."


	61. Chapter 61

**Chapter 61 **

Louisa returned to Cornwall the following Monday. The next school term wouldn't begin for another week; and even though she wanted to stay in London for a few more days, there was much work waiting for her to prepare the school for the students' return. Ordinarily Martin would have come down in two weeks, but he had a conference scheduled for that weekend so it was the end of April before he could schedule a trip to Cornwall. They had a quiet weekend with Martin and Louisa dropping by the farm on Saturday to see Joan and to inspect the progress of the renovations followed by a simple dinner and an early evening. Sunday they took Joan out for brunch in Wadebridge before dropping Martin off at the Bodmin Parkway station.

Louisa headed up to London a few weekends later, leaving after school Thursday with plans to return Monday on the early morning train so as to arrive at school by lunchtime. Martin had intended to take Louisa to the symphony during her visit, but all their plans were eclipsed by the excitement surrounding the birth of Amy and Thomas Woodvine's baby.

Louisa and Amy had found themselves becoming fast friends with their common interest in children and their relationships with quirky men of science, and they tried to get together whenever Louisa was in town. Amy was a few days past her due date when they met up at a favourite little cafe on Friday for lunch. Louisa arrived first and found a table. Amy arrived a few minutes later and gingerly made her way through the cafe's heavy door, stepping carefully with one hand pressed against the nearest wall or chair to maintain her balance and the other held against her swollen belly. As she watched Amy make her way through the crowded cafe, Louisa couldn't help commenting to herself that Amy looked ready to pop. Amy saw the look on Louisa's face as she waddled toward the table, and she nodded her head and patted her belly, "Yes ... I know ... I look like the incredible exploding woman! This little one 'dropped' a week ago and I feel like I'm balancing a watermelon between my legs." She collapsed onto the chair and sighed. "The baby should be here any day now and I am so ready."

"I'm just wondering if you'll make it through lunch." Louisa eyed her warily. "Sure hope so. Where's Tommy? Is he within shouting distance?" Louisa wasn't sure she was ready to help deliver Amy's baby there in the cafe.

"Oh he's at work, but the entire office is on high alert, ready to send him off to hospital at first call. It'll be alright. Let's order. I'm famished."

They had a quick catch-up after they ordered and Amy excused herself to go to the loo. A few minutes later, Louisa heard Amy calling her from the back of the cafe. She turned around and saw Amy standing in the doorway to the ladies with a stricken look on her face. "Louisa, I think I need to go to hospital. My waters just broke."

Louisa looked down and saw a puddle forming as water dripped onto the floor. "Yeah." She waved down the waitress and asked her to call an ambulance. Amy held out her hand, "No. Just call a taxi, no need for an ambulance."

"Really?" Louisa was incredulous.

"Yes, but I could use a towel or something to sit on." Amy gave out a groan, sat down on the nearest chair and started to pant.

"What's happening?" Louisa asked, trying to hide the note of panic in her voice. She had never been around anyone about to give birth before and had no idea how to handle the situation.

"Just a contraction," Amy squeaked out between pants. "Totally normal ... be over in a minute."

"Give me your phone".

Amy took one final big breath, stopped panting, and looked at her watch. "First contraction over, 1:15."

"Where's your phone?" Louisa practically yelled.

"In my purse, in the pocket. Why?"

"I'm going to call Tommy. He can meet us at hospital."

'Right." Just then the taxi pulled up, and Louisa and the hostess helped Amy out to the car, placing a towel on the seat. "Don't worry about returning the towel. Keep it as a souvenir." The waitress was more than happy to turn Amy over to the driver, who leaned around and asked, "Where to luvs?"

"Queen Charlotte's and Chelsea, maternity unit." Amy directed with more composure than Louisa thought she could have mustered in the same situation.

"Right." The driver pulled out into the traffic working his way over to the right lane.

Just then another contraction hit and Amy started to pant, but with the jostling in the taxi, it was difficult to concentrate and she let out a moan.

Louisa had climbed in next to her and now was worried, "Are you alright?"

"Nooo ... ooooo ... puff puff ... puff puff." Despite the difficulties in the stop and go traffic, she resumed as best she could the regulated breathing pattern she had learned in her birthing class.

"How long till we get there?" Louisa yelled up to the driver.

"In this traffic, maybe quarter hour, not too long."

Amy let out one long breath and slumped against the back of the seat, "What time is it now?"

Thinking Amy was asking how much longer till they would arrive at hospital, Louisa repeated what the driver had just told her. "We just got in the taxi; it will still be a good fifteen minutes before we get to hospital."

"Louisa, I have to time the contractions. Last one was at 1:15. What time is it now?

"Oh," Louisa looked at her watch, "1:21."

"Okay, six minutes between contractions. Is Thomas on his way?"

Louisa absently pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, embarrassed that she knew so little about the birth process, "He didn't answer the call. I left a message."

"Try again."

Louisa pulled Amy's mobile out of her purse where she had stowed it and pressed call again, but the call went straight to Thomas's voice mail. "He's not answering his mobile. I think it's turned off."

"Try his office number. Someone there should answer." Louisa tried that with no luck. After 10 rings, the office answer phone picked up. She left a message.

"Ohhh ... not again," Amy groaned as another wave hit her. As soon as she heard Amy exhale and stop panting, Louisa checked the time, and reported, "1:26, 5 minutes since the last one.

Louisa leaned forward to check with the driver trying to remain calm. "How much further to hospital?" He gave her an exasperated look, "Traffic's bad, maybe ten more minutes, maybe less. I'll get you there as soon as possible."

"_Giving birth is a perfectly natural bodily function." _Louisa thought trying to reassure herself. _ "Why am I feeling so frightened? I need to stay calm for Amy's sake, and I need to contact Tommy." _ She looked over at Amy calmly resting with her eyes closed waiting for the next contraction to begin,_ "_Is there anyone else I can call?_"_

"See if I have a number for Jonathan Perkins; that's his lab assistant."

Louisa scrolled through all the contacts in her mobile. "No I don't see anyone with that name."

Amy thought a few moments. "We'll have to call the university when we get to hospital and have them contact his group. I don't think I have anyone else's number. Ohhh ... another contraction. How long has it been?"

"1:31, another 5 minutes."

Before Louisa could ask, the driver piped up, "Only four minutes more maybe. We'll be there soon."

Louisa continued to call both Thomas and his office number. Just as they pulled up to the hospital reception area, someone answered the office phone. "Kathy MacCloud."

"Kathy" Louisa kept her voice even and controlled. "I'm trying to reach Thomas Woodvine. I'm with his wife Amy and she's gone into labour. He needs to get to hospital as soon as possible."

"Yes, yes. How exciting. He's around here somewhere. I'll find him and have him call you."

"Kathy" Louisa cried. "Don't hang up. Let me give you my name and number."

Amy's next contraction had just started as they pulled into the hospital birth centre reception area. 1:35, Louisa noted the time, four minutes since the previous contraction. She and the driver assisted Amy out of the taxi and into a wheelchair and pushed her into the reception area, where the check-in nurse began to sign her in. There appeared to be a queue as several other women, all of them in various stages of labour, sat scattered about the reception area, each with a husband or friend in attendance. The hospital was in the middle of a rush; it seemed that this was one of those occasional days when a large cohort of women decided to give birth. Despite the pressure of several women arriving all at once, the reception area was quiet and orderly. The check-in nurse calmly commented, "Must be a full moon coming on. How far apart are the contractions?"

Louisa replied, "Four minutes."

"Good, we still have some time. Just wait over there. We'll get to Mrs. Woodvine shortly. Don't worry, we'll take good care of her."

Amy groaned with the onset of another contraction. Louisa wanted to shout out at the intake nurse, that her friend was in terrible pain, but she realised that there actually were two other women behind them waiting to be admitted, one of whom was obviously having a contraction as well. Aside from the occasional moan, the facility had a soothing ambience with the staff working quietly and efficiently. Finally after what seemed an eternity to Louisa, which was less than twenty minutes, Amy was escorted to one of the birthing suites. Amy asked Louisa to stay with her while the midwife examined her. "Have you reached Thomas yet?"

Louisa realised that she had not heard back from him and dialled his number again. He answered on the first ring, "Woodvine here."

"Tommy!" Louisa practically screamed into the phone. "Amy's in hospital. Get here as soon as you can."

"Miss you need to turn off your mobile whilst in hospital." Louisa nodded her understanding to the midwife and turned away to whisper into the mobile, "Tommy, they are making me turn off my mobile. Get here ASAP, right?"

"Yes. I'm on my way. I should be there within a half-hour." He replied and rang off.

Louisa turned back to check on Amy and the mid-wife just in time to see a look of concern pass over the midwife's face. "Are you aware that your baby is presenting in a breech position?"

"No, the midwife said everything looked normal at my last exam Monday. What's going to happen? Is my baby going to be alright?"

"Let me get a doctor to examine you." The midwife left the room as Amy felt another contraction come on.

A few minutes later, Louisa was stunned as she realised that the doctor who had entered the room to examine Amy was none other than Edith Montgomery. Edith scanned Amy's chart, then greeted her. "Good afternoon Mrs. Woodvine. I'm Dr. Montgomery. The midwife tells me your baby is presenting breech. I need to examine you to see if we can continue with a vaginal birth or if we need to perform a caesarean." She turned to Louisa, and said, "Please step into the hall whilst I examine Mrs. Woodvine. Is her partner here?"

"No, he's ... uh ... he's on his way." Louisa stammered as she moved toward the doorway. Once in the hallway, she leaned against the wall, trying to process the afternoon events, Amy's labour and meeting Edith. She looked at her watch, 2:35. Thomas should be here in 25 minutes or less if his estimate was correct. She wanted to call Martin, but knew he was busy with patients of his own, and she didn't want to leave Amy until Tommy ... no ...Thomas arrived. Actually she admitted to herself that she didn't want to leave Amy even when Thomas arrived. She had never witnessed a birth before and was finding the entire process exhilarating.

A few minutes later, Edith strode out of the room and whooshed down the hall. Louisa cautiously entered the room to see Amy lying in the bed crying. Louisa ran over and took her hand, "Amy, what's wrong? Is everything alright? What's happening?"

"The doctor says they will have to operate. The baby is in the wrong position and it's too dangerous for me to have the baby naturally. This isn't how I wanted it to be." She tried to stifle her sobs, hoping to get control before another contraction came. "I had practiced all the breathing and relaxation exercises and was supposed to have a pool to help me through the labour. Now it's all for naught. Ooh ..." She started a calm breathing regimen and Louisa recognised that she was having another pain, no a contraction. "_Use the right terminology_," Louisa cautioned herself.

When Amy stopped her rhythmic breathing, Louisa took her hand again and said, "I know this must be terribly disappointing."

"Yes, it is, but it can't be helped. Our instructor warned us that this could happen and to accept it as best for the baby."

Louisa nodded her head vigorously, "And that's what you want, right? A healthy baby?"

"Right," Amy nodded her head, still a bit tearful.

"And I'll stay right here with you until Thomas comes."

"Thank you so much. Sorry to ruin your lunch. You must be starving."

"Actually I hadn't had time to think about it, much too much excitement."

"I am really, really grateful you are here; I'd hate to be doing all this alone."

Soon a midwife entered the room to explain the procedure she and the doctor would follow. Louisa was allowed to stay in the room while she went over each step. "Are you her birthing partner?" She asked Louisa.

"No. I'm a friend. Her husband should be here any minute."

"I'm afraid we only allow one partner in theatre. You'll have to stay in our waiting room. Mrs. Woodvine is scheduled for 16.00. The operation itself only takes a few minutes, but you won't be able to see her or the baby for at least two hours afterward. Maternity ward visiting hours run from 15.00 to 20.00, but I'd suggest you go home and come back to visit tomorrow afternoon."

Just then Thomas rushed in. The midwife greeted him cordially, patiently went through her spiel once again, and finished by reminding Louisa that she would not be able to attend the birth. She was kind but firm, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave us now. I must prepare Mrs. Woodvine for surgery, but you can return tomorrow at 15.00 during normal visiting hours."

Thomas walked Louisa out to the hall where he thanked her profusely, repeating himself until Louisa stopped him, "Tommy, get back in there and help your wife ... and call us as soon as you can and let us know how things went. And I want all the details, boy or girl, length, weight, eyes and hair, all of it. I know I won't be able to sleep tonight until I know all of you are fine. Promise?"

"I will; I will, just as soon as I can." He gave her a hug and ran back inside.


	62. Chapter 62

**Chapter 62**

Louisa made her way back to Martin's flat, picking up some fish and vegetables on her way. As she put away the groceries, she thought to herself, "_One thing Martin Ellingham will have to change is his diet if he wants me to marry him. Fish is all well and good once or twice a week, but once in a while I crave a good steak or a proper Sunday roast or even that old standby, toad in the hole. We'll have to talk."_

She poured herself a glass of wine and sat down on the couch while she waited for Martin to arrive home and pondered the events of the day. Helping Amy to the hospital had been an exhilarating experience, and she wished she had been able to stay with her throughout the baby's birth. She'd often thought about having children of her own, but had never really thought about what was involved. Today's events were certainly a wake-up call. It wouldn't be easy but then most things worth having weren't easy, and she knew that Martin would ensure she had the best care available.

As she sipped on her wine, her thoughts strayed to Edith, this woman she had considered her rival for Martin's affections. She was quite attractive, slim and petite and, Louisa had to admit, very pretty, but her manner was arrogant and insensitive. Perhaps that was just her professional demeanour; even Martin could be arrogant at times, often if she were honest about it. But his arrogance related to his knowledge of how things should be done, not to his ability to do them. In fact, Martin could be quite modest and self-effacing whenever he was praised for his skill. Louisa sensed that in Edith, the arrogance ran deeper, that she also might be cold and calculating, ready to promote her accomplishments whenever opportunity presented itself. She had only just met the woman and only for a few minutes, but somehow, she didn't feel as intimidated as she thought she would. In fact, she sensed that Martin had good reason to avoid her. In fact, she felt that she could put her fears about Edith behind her.

Soon she heard Martin's key in the door, and she ran to greet him, reaching up to give him a passionate kiss before he closed the door. "Louisa!" he exclaimed with a small smile, pleasantly surprised. "May I set down my bag first?"

"Of course, of course. Wait till I tell you about my day."

"Yes?" He asked gently, gazing down at her and entranced by her excitement.

She took his hand and pulled him into the kitchen. "I had an amazing day, but I suppose we should get dinner started before I tell you about it. I just got home a few minutes ago."

"But you've had time to put away the groceries, and it appears you've had time to enjoy a glass of wine." He sniffed and arched his eyebrows, tilting his head towards the coffee table in the lounge where her half finished glass was waiting for her return.

"Well yes."

"So you didn't just arrive."

She swatted at his shirt playfully. "Martin stop being so literal, and start preparing the fish. I'll work on the vegetables."

"Right". Martin looked around for his apron and, finding it lying on the floor, he leaned over to pick it up, muttering with annoyance, "Really!"

Louisa glanced over to see him lifting his otherwise pristine apron from the kitchen floor and asked, "Problem?"

"Hmmph ... no." Fussing, he straightened his apron, brushed it off, and put it on. As they busied themselves preparing the meal, Louisa started to tell him about her day. "I met Amy for lunch today."

He pulled a saucepan out and searched in the cupboard for the olive oil, honey and herbs he planned to use in the glaze. "I'm surprised she hasn't delivered. Wasn't she due last week?"

She paused, the pairing knife resting in her hand, "But that's just it. She went into labour while we were at lunch. Her waters broke and we had to get to hospital, and ..." She stopped for a breath. Martin looked up from his work on the fish, "And?"

She continued excitedly, "Well, I'm sure she has had the baby by now. Thomas is supposed to call as soon as he is able. He promised."

"Labour can be a long process Louisa. It could be much later this evening before she actually delivers."

"No, no. The baby was breech, so they were going to do a caesarean. And you'll never guess who her doctor was." Louisa was quite excited, but paused, waiting for him to hazard a guess.

Martin looked at her expectantly.

"Guess."

Exasperated, Martin cried out, "Louisa, there are hundreds of obstetricians in London. I have no idea which one would attend Amy's delivery." He hated these guessing games.

Louisa cried back triumphantly, raising her paring knife in the air, "Edith!"

"Oh God," Martin moaned.

Interpreting Martin's reaction as concern, she asked, "Is that a problem. Is Edith not competent? Should we be worried?"

"Oh no, no. She is a very good doctor. Amy and her baby are in good hands."

"Then what?" Louisa was puzzled. She had finished trimming the vegetables so she opened the cupboard to pull out a sauté pan to put onto the hob whilst she waited for him to answer. She repeated her question, "So what's the problem with Edith?"

Martin shook his head as he marvelled at the coincidence of Edith attending the birth of their friends' baby, and sighed, "It's just ... oh ... Edith! Why? God, the woman is everywhere! I didn't think she even attended births in her new position."

"They were very busy today at hospital. I think it was an 'all hands on deck' day. What do you mean she is everywhere? Have you seen her recently?"

"No ... well yes, she dropped by my office earlier this week. Wanted to chat."

"Yes? ... and ... Did you chat?"

"Of course not. I told her to go away."

"And did she go away?" Louisa noticed the sauté pan starting to smoke and lifted it up for a moment, " The vegetables are ready to cook; they'll only take a few minutes. When will the fish be ready?"

Martin finished whisking the glaze and started to baste the fish. "Should be done in about ten minutes".

"I'll just wait a few minutes before I start them then." She pulled the pan off the heat and then turned back to Martin, "So ... Edith ... did she go away?"

"Yes.", "_Although,_" Martin thought to himself, "_Not until she told me she would be working two days a week as a consultant in the reproductive services unit at St. Mary's. Louisa doesn't need to know that." _He decided to steer the conversation away from Edith. "So they were busy in maternity? That happens sometimes."

"Maybe there's a full moon tonight?"

"Louisa, that's just a myth. Studies have shown that there is no statistical correlation between the phase of the moon and birth rates. However there have been studies showing that a change in barometric pressure does seem to coincide with an increase in deliveries."

"I don't think we have a storm coming."

"No."

"Anyway, it was all very thrilling."

"Yes, I can tell." Martin looked up from his fish as he slid it into the cooker, saw the animated features of the woman he loved and was amused and pleased at her excitement. "I'll just cut a few slices of bread. You can start the vegetables now if you're ready."

She put the sauté pan back on the hob, waited a minute until it had reached a high temperature, poured some oil into the hot pan, swirled it around and then added the vegetables along with a pinch of salt as they began to sizzle.

Whilst Martin sliced the bread, she went on to describe in great detail the day's events from the time Amy's waters broke until Thomas arrived at hospital, complete with sound effects and demonstrations, panting and moans, occasionally stirring the vegetables so they wouldn't burn.. "I don't think we will be able to go see the baby until tomorrow afternoon. Visiting hours are from 15.00 to 20.00. It's already past 6pm. Even if Thomas were to call now, I don't think we could get there in time."

"It's likely she will be in hospital at least two days, more likely three. A caesarean section is a major operation. We will have time." Martin was grateful that she would not be dragging him to hospital this evening after a very full day at his own hospital. All he really wanted was a quiet meal with Louisa, and an hour or so in the lounge watching a documentary or just relaxing with a cup of tea and some fine music and quiet conversation. As much as he generally hated idle chit-chat, he had become accustomed to their routine of discussing the day's events with each other every evening. He had been looking forward to sitting next to Louisa, his arm around her with her head resting on his shoulder while they shared their thoughts. He had had a long and difficult procedure scheduled for this morning on an elderly MP and had been concerned that things could have gone badly at any point. There were a few tense moments, but in the end all went well enough, and he found himself looking forward to sharing the results with her. Afterwards, if he was lucky, and he was fairly certain that tonight he would be, given Louisa's highly charged emotional state, he would be in bed making love with Louisa by 9:00 or 9:30. Tomorrow would be soon enough to visit the new parents in hospital.

Thomas called at 7:30 with the good news that Amy and the baby, Regina Alice, were both doing fine and gave them the vital statistics. Amy was resting and unable to come to the phone, but he promised to pass on their good wishes, and Louisa promised that they would visit the next afternoon.

The next day couldn't come soon enough for Louisa. Martin was correct in his assessment of Louisa's emotional state and they had enthusiastically engaged in some very vigorous sex, not just once, but twice. After the second time, Martin fell asleep almost immediately, but Louisa was still feeling exhilarated and she found sleep elusive. Finally she fell into a restless sleep sometime after midnight draped possessively over Martin's naked torso, muttering, "no, no, he's mine". She was dreaming, and in her dream, she was having Martin's baby with Edith attending. Afterwards, Edith dragged Martin out of the labour room, turning back to assure Louisa not to worry, that she would keep him satisfied while she, Louisa, was "out of commission". What was worse, in her dream, Martin was nodding in agreement!

Martin woke late the next morning and arrived for rounds fifteen minutes late. He was never late for rounds and normally would castigate anyone who dared arrive even a second later than the 7:00 am scheduled hour. When one of his registrars started to express her concern for his unusual late arrival, he shot the woman an icy look that stopped her mid-sentence.

A thought crossed his mind, and was quickly shelved, that perhaps it was time to revise the weekend protocol, that perhaps 7:00 am was too early for weekends; there would be plenty of time to reconsider should Louisa move to London permanently as his wife.

By the time he arrived back at his flat, Louisa had risen, showered and started breakfast. As they ate, she outlined her plans for the day: a quick shopping trip to buy a present for the baby, perhaps lunch out, a walk through the park and then the visit to hospital.

"I really don't know why we had to bring presents for Amy as well as the baby," Martin complained to Louisa as they exited the taxi in front of the hospital. "It seems excessive."

"Martin, I explained to you in the store. New mums have just been through an exhausting labour ... " Louisa started.

"Perfectly natural bodily function," Martin muttered under his breath.

Louisa heard him and replied heatedly, "That may be, but it doesn't mean it is easy or less hard on their bodies. A new mum needs some attention too and I think it is thoughtful to bring her a small gift that might help her to feel pretty after her body has been abused by the whole process."

"Right." Martin was learning to just let some arguments go.

They had arrived just at the beginning of visiting hours, Martin carrying flowers and Louisa carrying the bag loaded with gifts. "Ellingham" a voice cried out as they exited the elevator.

"Oh God." Martin groaned. Louisa thought she recognised Edith's voice and grabbed his hand, a territorial gesture as well as a reassuring one.

Edith ran up to them, "What are you doing here?"

"Friend ... Baby." Martin managed to stutter a reply, lifting the flowers in explanation.

"Ah yes. Didn't know you were into visiting new mothers in hospital. Well, why don't you drop by my office after your visit. We could get a cup of coffee and catch up." Edith hadn't noticed, or chose to ignore, Louisa standing by his side and holding his hand.

"Can't ... I have plans." Martin replied icily moving down the hall towards Amy's ward.

'Maybe tonight? We could have dinner," Edith chirped as she trotted after them, still ignoring Louisa at his side.

"I think not. Louisa and I have plans for this evening." Martin lifted their entwined hands to indicate to Edith that they were together.

She looked down at their raised hands and paused. "Hmmm ... some other time then, yes?" She touched his sleeve with her hand and smiled up at him. Martin grunted, and then moved on. Louisa turned her head to watch Edith stride down the hall for a moment before Martin tugged on her hand, pulling her toward Amy's room.

Thomas had heard their voices in the corridor outside the ward and peeked out to see Edith just before she headed down the hall. He motioned for them to come in. "Do you know Dr. Montgomery? She's a bit brusque, but she took good care of Amy and Gina."

"Is that what you are going to call her?" Louisa scooted over to the cot where the baby was sleeping, "Oh Amy, Thomas. She is just beautiful." She gave Amy a kiss on the cheek, then whispered over the cot, " Hello there little Gina. We're going to be good friends."

While Louisa was making a fuss over the baby, Martin offered Thomas his congratulations, then confirmed that he knew Edith from medical school. He then slowly walked over to the cot to stand next to Louisa and reflexively placed the back of his fingers against the baby's forehead, then checked her pulse at the side of her neck. "Hmmm ... appears healthy. Good." He smiled and nodded to Amy.

"Would you like to hold her?" Amy offered, smiling at Louisa.

"Are you sure I won't wake her?" Louisa wanted nothing more than to cuddle the baby.

"I just fed her so it's unlikely she will wake up."

"It's my understanding that newborns spend most of the first few days after birth asleep, Louisa. I wouldn't worry." Martin was always anxious to alleviate any concerns of a medical nature. Turning to Thomas, he added, "She will probably start spending more time awake as soon as you are discharged. Babies also sleep to block out distracting noises always found in hospital."

Louisa sat down in one of the chairs reserved for visitors and held little Gina in her arms, caressing her cheek with her fingers and cooing. Martin glanced down at her and thought to himself, _"I told my dream Louisa that she would make a lovely mother, and I think my real Louisa will be a lovely mother also._"

Louisa looked up and seeing the love in his eyes, smiled at him. "Would you like to hold her for a minute too?"

It was one thing to hold your own newborn, but someone else's? Yes he had held James frequently and cared for him in his dream, but he had not actually held a newborn since the paediatrics rotation in medical school and even then, he held them as little as possible. "Um ... I'm not sure ... I might drop her. I don't have any experience with babies."

Louisa stood up and motioned for him to take the chair, "Here. Sit down."

"Are you sure Louisa?"

"Yes. Sit down."

'Um ... uh ..." Martin held back.

"Martin, sit down. She won't bite you."

Martin eased into the chair and looked up as Louisa placed the baby in his arms. "There. Support her head in the crook of your arm, and her back with your forearm."

"Yes." Martin took the baby and did as Louisa instructed, smiling to himself as he thought, "_Aren't those the same words I used to tell her how to hold James Henry right after we had decided his name?... Will I always have these flashbacks? ... I wonder." _

Misinterpreting his smile as pleasure to be holding an infant, Louisa thought to herself what a good father he would be.

Amy and Thomas watched with amusement as Louisa encouraged Martin to take the baby, and gave each other a smiling look of indulgence, wondering just how long it would be before Louisa was placing their own baby in his arms.

**Author's Note: Best wishes this holiday to all of you who have joined me in this fan fiction journey for the past year or so. May you find joy and happiness and peace. Merry Christmas, Happy Christmas!**


	63. Chapter 63

**Chapter 63**

The bank holiday at the end of May found Martin in Cornwall. Louisa had the entire week off due to half term, so Martin had arranged to spend a few extra days in Cornwall as holiday time with Louisa and to address several items that needed attention. They had decided it would be good to sort through her things, decide what she needed to take to London for the summer, and whether it would all fit in his car. Also the renovations were nearly complete at the farm and Martin wanted to do a walk-though with Morgan their contractor. And he wanted to spend some time with Aunty Joan. They wouldn't have much time to visit when he came for Louisa mid-July. Term time ended on a Thursday and her London class started the following Tuesday. Martin would drive down Friday evening, they would pack up the car on Saturday and drive back and unload on Sunday.

While both of them were looking forward to their uninterrupted time together, they had some trepidation about the actual drive itself with Lizzie in the car. Louisa had mentioned her concern that the trip might be difficult for her cat who was not used to travelling, and Martin was still hoping Louisa would find a cat sitter for the summer.

He arrived Saturday morning on the early train. After Louisa picked him up, they drove up to Tintagel to inspect the ruins, some of which are said to be from King Arthur's time. After their first dinner together in London when they had discussed Camelot while walking in the park, he had developed an interest in the lore behind King Arthur and had indicated to Louisa that he would be interested in seeing the site. Excited by his interest, Louisa had printed out some literature discussing the legends of King Arthur and his association with Cornwall, which Martin scanned on the drive up to Tintagel.

The ruins sit atop a promontory jutting out into the sea, and they climbed the steps up to the headland, resting when they reached the remains of the great hall built by Richard, Earl of Cornwall in the 13th century. Martin hated to admit it, but as they explored the ruins from the dark ages atop the peninsula, he was grateful that Louisa had insisted he bring his hiking boots with him on this trip. They were certainly more appropriate foot wear than his usual black oxfords on the uneven footpaths. She had packed a picnic and after they had explored the ruins, they found a quiet spot overlooking the sea and enjoyed a heated discussion on the merits of the claim that this spectacular spot was Arthur's birthplace. They came to no particular conclusion, but enjoyed the discussion.

On their way out of town, they stopped in at the honey shop to pick up a jar of local honey, which Louisa liked to spread on her toast in the morning. Martin asked to make a short stop at the Camelot Hotel, and as they wandered through the public rooms, he shared more of his dream with her, how his interview panel took place there and how she was the only one who voted against him, how they searched the hotel for James when the local chemist kidnapped him, and then how he took her there for dinner when they were having marital problems. Later, they spent a quiet evening at home in Louisa's cottage fixing a simple supper and enjoying an early night.

Sunday morning, they rose early and prepared a big English breakfast, modified somewhat for Martin's health concerns: fresh fruit, eggs, fried potato cakes, beans with whole meal toast, broiled tomato, and at Louisa insistence, one rasher of bacon for each of them. Martin was adamant that they not have any sausages, "Full of salt and saturated fat and god only knows what else, not fit for human consumption" he stated emphatically when she tried to persuade him to add one to each of their plates.

After breakfast, they headed out for a walk along the coastal path. "Do you remember the first time you came down to Cornwall and we went on this very same walk?"

"Very well. You had an attack of vertigo. Have you mentioned it to your GP yet?"

"Martin, I do not have vertigo. I was twirling around and got a little dizzy. It happens to everyone who spins around. Here try it with me and see if you don't get a little wobbly." They had reached the top of the hill with the village still in view. The path started to cross a flat meadow before dropping down to the next cove. She grabbed his hands and started to spin around. He staggered with her for a few steps, then pulled away, crying out, "Louisa, don't be ridiculous." She continued on by herself enjoying the warmth of the morning sun in the cool sea breeze. He reached over and grabbed her arm to stop her, "Stop that. You might fall."

"Then you would have to catch me, wouldn't you?" She pulled away from his grasp, skipped a few yards further down the path, and glanced at him, a twinkle in her eye. He started after her, but then she twirled a few steps over to his side and fell into his arms, looking into his face and giggling aloud with sheer joy.

He realized that she was flirting with him, so he quickly glanced around to ascertain whether they were alone. The village was no longer in view, and seeing no one near, he replied, "Yes, I guess I would." He quickly picked her up and kissed her. "Is that what you had in mind?"

"Mmm ... yes. Perhaps I should do it again."

"No need." He smiled and kissed her again, brushing his fingers against her cheek. "Let's move on shall we?"

They continued down the hill, the sea pounding against the cliffs to their right. They stopped at the bottom and Louisa picked up a few pebbles and threw them out to the waves foaming up on the small beach. "I used to come down here as a child with my friends. We would throw rocks into the sea to see who could throw them the furthest." It was a fond memory and they watched as the ripples created by the rocks hitting the water were subsumed by the action of the surf. It was mesmerising.

They turned to each other at the exact same moment, then glanced up at the steep steps leading to the next height, and silently nodded agreement to walk on. Another twenty minutes and they reached the rocky outcrop where they had rested on their previous walk.

"Let's sit for a few moments. Shall we have our tea and snacks?" Louisa had filled a small pack with a thermos of tea and a container of cut up apples and cheese with some crackers. Martin placed the pack on the rocks and pulled out the provisions, handing Louisa the snacks while he poured two cups of tea. He had worked up an appetite and he wolfed down a few slices of apple while Louisa sipped on her tea. She wanted to reminisce, "I remember when we came here the first time; I didn't know what to think of you. You had seemed so nice when we had dinner in London, but you were so different when you shouted at Maura about the football thing that I seriously considered sending you back to Joan."

He ducked his head, remembering his behaviour, "I'd really rather forget that incident."

"You apologised and seemed sincere."

"Yes. I didn't realise I had upset you. I am still working on my temper. But ... when I see people doing stupid things, I can't stay quiet." His voice began to rise as he thought about how stupid people could be.

She placed her hand on his arm in a calming gesture, "No you can't, but I've grown to love that quality of yours. You really do care for people. But when you shout at them and call them names, they don't appreciate your concern." She began to nibble on an apple slice. "But I don't want to talk about that. I just found you so ... well, intriguing, maybe."

"Right". He picked up a slice of cheese and chewed on it thoughtfully. "Dull is more like it."

"No Martin, you are anything but dull." She leaned into him, resting her hand on his shoulder and rubbing her cheek against his arm. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, looking out toward the sea. They rested there each consumed in thought.

Martin pondered how he had almost ruined things when he first came down to Cornwall and tried to advise the locals about the dangers of heading a football. He had been pleased when Louisa had passed on the literature about the dangers of concussion and he had hoped the community would discontinue the practice, but he had noticed on a recent trip that children were still heading the ball. He had spoken to Louisa about it, but she said that the coaches insisted it was safe; she promised to address the subject again when football season began, but until then she had other battles to fight. Why won't people listen to reason?

As she watched the clouds scattered across the sky, Louisa considered how capricious life could be, throwing her and Martin together less than a year ago. If Holly hadn't fallen that day, or if she had decided to spend her last week before school on holiday somewhere else, they never would have met. She wrapped her arm around his back and held him closer. What a gift he was.

They sat there quietly, sharing the last of the apple, cheese and crackers and sipping their tea, enjoying the sound of the sea as it rushed onto the rocks below and then eased back out, only to repeat itself over and over as it had done for millennia. A lone gull squawked a warning as it circled the cliff side and dropped to its nest perched below, just yards from where they were sitting, rousing them from their reverie. The chicks chirped frantically knowing that a meal was in the offing,trilling much like the beeping of an alarm reminding Louisa of the time and the pasta salad she had promised to take to take to the barbeque and open house that Alicia and Stefan were hosting that afternoon. Martin's head was down and his eyes were closed so she started to rub the back of his neck, "Wake up sleepyhead, it's time to go home. I still have to make that salad for Alicia and Stefan's party."

"Mm ... Yes. I wasn't asleep." He opened his eyes, stood up and offered her a hand, pulling her close. He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "Thank you".

"You're welcome," she responded, smiling at him impishly. "What for?"

"For giving me a second chance."

"Mm..." She tilted her head, "Yes?"

"When I first came down here."

"Mm ... yes." She pulled his head down and kissed him, slipping her hands down around his bottom and pressing herself against him suggestively as she deepened the kiss.

He felt himself responding to her attentions and pulled away. They were on a public footpath and anyone could appear around the corner in an instant. "Louisa ... What are you doing?"

She moved her hands up and under his suit jacket, and beamed up at his reddening face, "Just showing you how glad I am that I gave you a second chance."

"Um ... yes ... good ... ahem ..." he stammered, flustered at her brazen behaviour and pulling away, taking her hand to lead her down the path. When they reached the edge of the village, they came upon the old surgery. Just as he had on his first village visit, he stopped and tugged on her hand. "Do you mind if we stop and look out over the harbour from here?"

"There might be tenants this time of year." Louisa looked up at the house trying to see if there were any signs of life. "Doesn't look like anyone is there right now. I guess we could walk up onto the terrace."

Martin had already mounted the steps and took Louisa's hand as she walked over beside him. He took her shoulders and turned her to face the harbour, standing close behind her. "In my dream, I stood here most every morning and evening looking over to the school, just hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Well, not you, but my dream version of you. But I couldn't tell you that the first time we came here."

"No." She pressed her back against him and he put his arms around her as they looked out over the harbour and toward the school. "No that would have been ... well, to be truthful, it would have been creepy."

He continued softly, almost as if he were thinking out loud. "The dream was so vivid and seemed so real. I was relieved when I realised that I was still in London and that I hadn't developed haemophobia. But all that day I kept thinking of you and James and how much I loved you both and how I would never see either of you. It was so difficult to make sense of; did it mean something? I couldn't help wondering, and then I saw you in hospital. I couldn't believe you were real. I wanted very much to get to know you. I know I wouldn't have approached you that day in hospital if I had not had that dream. "

"And I'm very glad you did." She loved when he shared details about his dream with her; it was incredibly romantic that this otherwise very reserved and private man should reveal his innermost thoughts to her. She wanted to hold him close so she turned around to kiss him, but he pushed her away. "Louisa there are people about; we really shouldn't."

The spell broken, she turned around to see who was nearby, and noticing only a few tourists near the bottom of the hill, she murmured, "They don't know who we are." She stretched up and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. "We can continue this conversation tonight. But now, I need to make that salad!"

**Happy New Year to all. Let us Hope for Peace and Stability for all of mankind in 2016 ... and lots of fan fiction to keep us entertained until series 8 in 2017!  
**


	64. Chapter 64

**Chapter 64 **

Louisa prepared the salad soon after they arrived back at her cottage and included plenty of early summer vegetables and greens, much to Martin's approval. She was looking forward to the party, but Martin, not so much. "How long do we have to stay?" He asked as they were driving over.

"At least until we have eaten dinner and a little while after. I've really been looking forward to this party for the whole month. Alicia has the most beautiful garden; it's like one of Monet's impressionist garden paintings, absolutely lovely. She and Stefan host this party every year because late May is when the garden is at its peak. You'll see." She shook her head up and down as if to affirm its beauty. "Plus it should be lots of fun."

"Humph." Martin grunted.

She reached over to stroke his arm in a gesture of comfort, and kissed his cheek. He really had few social skills, which was a concern. Tonight would put him to the test; she hoped he would be up to it, but she also wasn't going to abandon him to hide in a corner. "Mm. I realise that you may not know many people, and that may be difficult for you. I'll try not to leave you on your own too much." Stroking the hair on the back of his head, she added, "You like Stefan. Caroline and Roger McCune will be there; you remember them from the village holiday party? And Carrie Penrose; she was really impressed that you were able to fix her clock."

'Yes, I enjoyed that. It was challenging." Martin hesitated for a moment after pulling the car into the driveway leading to Alicia and Stefan's home. "Will the GP be there?"

"Michael? Probably. You two don't seem to get on. I had hoped you would since you are both medical people, but I guess... well ..." She stared out the car window, "Maybe you'll get on better now."

"I doubt it." Martin turned off the car, opened his door and walked over to hold Louisa's door for her. He took the salad bowl she had been holding with one hand and offered her his other hand to help her exit the car, and he continued to hold her hand as they headed up the walk.

As they entered the house, Martin steeled himself for Alicia's usual exuberant greeting, tentatively returning her hug. "Ah, you're getting the hang of it, aren't you Martin?" she teased. She was still not certain that he was the right man for her best friend, but if he made Louisa happy, then she was determined to make him feel welcome in their close group of friends.

Louisa and Martin made their way into the kitchen to put out the salad and Stefan greeted them, offering them both a drink. "Martin, do you think you could help me with some of this grilling? We've got ribs for the meat eaters, chicken and fish. Alicia's put together some shrimp kabobs, and there's just more than I can handle." Louisa had mentioned to Alicia that Martin might feel more comfortable if he had an assigned task, something to do other than stand around chatting, and Stefan was more than happy to have him assist with the cooking. Several other guests soon arrived, many of whom Martin had met in previous visits to Portwenn. As is frequently the case, most of the men gathered around the grill, drinking and talking sports, while the women gathered in the kitchen catching up on the latest gossip.

Martin didn't have much to contribute to the men's' conversation even though he was in the middle of the group while he worked the grill. Nonetheless, he listened closely to their conversation and would glance up at them from time to time as his cooking duties allowed, observing their interactions. His attention was drawn particularly to Louisa's old boyfriend, Michael, who was completely at home with the other men in the group. Even as an American, a true outsider, he was able to hold his own, familiar with the sports teams and their standings, fluently arguing the merits of individual players and the likelihood that they would propel their teams to a win the following week. He was laughing and telling jokes and he fit in as if he had lived in Portwenn all his life. No matter that he had been in the village for barely two years, already they had accepted him as one of their own. But then Michael saw most of these people every day, and as their doctor, knew many of their secrets.

Martin was the true outsider in this group, the outsider that he always was in groups like this. He had never fit in. It had been this way since boarding school, and he never really understood why. He still didn't understand what it was Louisa saw in him, he was so lacking in charm and wit. Stefan, ever the gracious host was manning the adjacent grill and compared notes with him occasionally, but despite that, he felt alone, certainly not one of the fellows. Thank god he had the fish and chicken to attend. When the meat and fish were close to done, Louisa and Alicia carried serving trays out to the patio. Louisa put her tray down on the buffet table and walked over to Martin, putting her arm around his waist, and smiling up at him. "Hi there. You doing okay?"

He gazed down at her and felt that she understood, knew that this party was difficult for him. He remembered what dream Louisa had said about people who were never going to quite fit in. She was talking about Peter Cronk, but he was pretty sure she was talking about him as well;_ "they were never going to quite be ordinary, that maybe that wasn't such a bad thing, and that maybe that's why we love the 'Peters' of this world." _ The real Louisa looking up at him accepted him as he was and he adored her for that; she must feel the same way. Embarrassed by the intensity of his feelings, he turned away for a moment, then looked down at the grill before returning his gaze toward her and squeezing her hand and replying, "Um ... yes. Uh ... Could you bring me one of those trays? The fish is ready and I don't want it to be over cooked."

Louisa understood the touch of his hand and vowed to pay closer attention to him once dinner was served. "Yes." She reached over and handed him the tray Alicia had reserved for the fish. "Here we go. What about the chicken? Is it ready?"

"Maybe two more minutes."

"Mind if I keep you company?" She had been so busy helping in the kitchen that she hadn't spent any time with him this evening, and she was pretty sure that Alicia had plenty of other help.

"I'd like that." "_Very much_" he said to himself. "What have you been doing in the kitchen?"

"Oh, you know. Setting out the china and flatware, serving dishes, making sure all the sides have serving spoons, all that sort of thing." She held her hands behind her back, rocking on her feet and smiled impishly at him.

"I heard laughter coming from in there."

"Ah yes," she chuckled. "Well you know, the latest gossip, whose wife found him in bed with one of the sillier village girls. She beat him round the head with her sauce pan, his wife, not the girlfriend. Serves him right." And Louisa giggled at the thought of matronly Ginger Masters chasing her portly husband Garth through the village with a pot.

"That certainly doesn't sound amusing to me. The poor man probably suffered major head trauma ... even if he did deserve it." Martin scowled.

Louisa continued to giggle, covering her mouth with her hand. "Well, I think it helps if you know the couple. I didn't see it, but it must have been quite a sight. The husband is balding and quite overweight. I can't imagine what that girl was doing with him." Suddenly Louisa gasped, "I wonder if she did it on a dare?"

"What?"

"You know, a dare, where someone dares you to do something."

"Yes, I know what a dare is", Martin responded haughtily. "Can you hand me the tray for the chicken?"

Martin took the chicken off the grill and arranged it carefully on the tray that Louisa held for him and then continued the conversation. "I just don't understand why anyone would dare her to have sexual intercourse with someone else's husband. What would be the point?"

Louisa pulled Martin slightly away from the others and whispered, "There have been rumours that this particular man, as unattractive as he is, is extremely well endowed, if you get my meaning. There's a group of girls that hang about, and I wouldn't put it past them to dare one or the other to find out if the rumours are true."

Martin shook his head, rolling his eyes in exasperation and uttered, "What nonsense."

More of the women had joined the men on the terrace and Carrie had found Michael, sliding her arm through his and greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. Michael had been watching Louisa with Martin, she animated and lovely, he scowling and just strange looking. "I still can't understand what it is that Louisa sees in that London prig. The man is the most unpleasant person I've ever met," he commented to no one in particular.

Carrie looked over at Martin and Louisa as well and replied, "Maybe it's that old opposites attract thing."

"Do you really think that's possible?" Michael rubbed his chin wondering.

"Or maybe he's good in bed." Carrie thought that a very strong possibility. Louisa always seemed to be in a very good mood after a weekend spent with Martin, and Carrie had always thought she must be getting plenty on those weekends.

"I doubt it." Michael couldn't possibly see how anyone that rigid could relax enough to enjoy sex himself, let alone please a woman.

Stefan piped up adding, "Louisa told Alicia that he is very attentive."

"I'm sure he is. Who wouldn't be, given any encouragement? She's a beautiful woman." Michael replied sarcastically, thinking that he himself had been 'attentive'.

"Well yes, I'm sure there is that, but Louisa was talking more about his caring for her, preparing her dinner one time when she had been busy all day, always helping to clean up, thinking about what she would like to do, that sort of thing. She claims that she feels cherished." Stefan had taken the hint and had started to help out more around the house and had found himself reaping the rewards. He thought Martin was onto something.

Michael was confused. Wasn't that the sort of thing that the woman was supposed to do for her man? He frequently brought takeout over to share a meal with Louisa; he may not have cooked it himself, but he was thinking of her. He had taken her to several concerts nearby that she seemed to enjoy, and he often took her to the pub on the weekends to enjoy a few pints with some of their friends. Still she had rejected him for Martin.

Carrie remembered how he had fixed her clock. "He can be very nice, quiet, but thoughtful. He fixed my grandparents' clock. I asked him if he could recommend a good clock maker, and he offered to fix it for me himself. It works beautifully now."

Michael couldn't help but add, "He was probably trying to gain points with Louisa by helping her friend."

Stefan added, "He's not really unpleasant, just quiet, and I think, uncomfortable in large groups. I've had some business dealings with him and he's actually quite engaging when he gets to know you ... very sly, dry wit."

"I find that hard to believe." Michael muttered to himself.

The sun was getting low in the sky when Alicia called everyone to the buffet, "let's eat while everything is fresh and warm."

The Richards' home was set high on a cliff overlooking the sea. There was a large terrace sheltered on two sides from the constant coastal winds by several rows of evergreen trees. Alicia's artistic sensibilities were evident in the beautiful flower border that was set between the trees and the terrace where late spring flowers were in bloom. Iris, peonies, late blooming daffodils and tulips, and primroses all jostled for attention in front of a still brilliant display of rhododendron. Dwarf lilacs had been planted at the edge of the garden and were in full bloom scenting the entire terrace with their fragrance. Martin had to admit that Louisa was right when she compared Alicia's garden to that of Monet's at Giverny.

They had scattered several tables here and there to take advantage of the seascapes just visible between gaps in the trees. Each table was covered with a cornflower blue cloth topped by a bouquet of fresh flowers surrounded by tea lights. A buffet table was set just across from the grill and now was laden with the evening's feast.

As they lined up to serve themselves, Louisa and Martin found themselves just in front of Michael and Carrie. Carrie tapped Martin on his arm, "Martin, I was just telling Michael and Stefan what a wonderful job you did in restoring my grandparents' clock. It keeps perfect time now, and I love hearing it chime. I think of you whenever I pass by it."

Martin reddened, "Uh ... my pleasure. I enjoy repairing clocks."

She continued, "How did you ever learn to fix them? All the parts are so tiny. I'd lose half the pieces if I were ever to try and take one apart."

Martin grunted, "Yes, that can be challenging. I have a special felt covered tray I keep the parts on as I work. My grandfather had many clocks in his home and he would show me how they worked. I like the discipline and focus required to repair them." What he didn't tell her was that he found the focus required also helped him to relax and reduce for a few hours the constant stress induced by the responsibility he shouldered in caring for his patients.

"Must be lonely work that. Me, I'd rather spend my time with my mates at the pub or at a football match." Michael felt the need to point out how much more sociable he was than Martin, and to point out how much more "English" he had become in the past two years. Louisa would regret being with this solitary loser.

Martin just grunted in reply, sniffing as he raised his head and turned back to Louisa, casually wrapping his arm around her shoulders, rubbing his hand against her upper arm. She felt the comfort of his touch and leaned into his hug, smiling up at him and then handing him a plate.

After they filled their plates, they sat down at table with Caroline and Roger. Alicia and Stefan joined them a few moments later after ensuring that all their guests were well cared for. Alicia wanted to draw Martin out so she turned to him, "Martin, Louisa tells me that you two went over to Tintagel to examine the ruins, but that you still aren't convinced that Arthur was a Cornishman."

"I believe that authorities more knowledgeable than me agree that Tintagel was likely the site of a Celtic chieftain's base in the fifth century. But was he Arthur? Was there really one great King Arthur who united England into one great peaceful country? It is more likely that he is an amalgam of several ancient chieftains who grew in stature and greatness with storytellers of old. So I'm not convinced that there was an Arthur, let alone that he was Cornish."

Caroline spoke up, "But there is archaeological evidence of a thriving community at Tintagel from the middle of the fifth century to the middle of the seventh century, which is considered to be the time of King Arthur's reign. And some of the earliest English historians associate Arthur with Cornwall and describe Tintagel as his birth place."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean a king named Arthur actually existed. And other English communities and even Wales claim Arthur as their own. It's all myth and folklore, and you won't convince me otherwise." Martin wasn't to be swayed and he leaned back in his chair folding his arms across his chest.

The others, all Cornish men and women joined in the discussion with the final consensus that Arthur did exist and was conceived and born at Tintagel. When at last Martin could take no more and was about to rejoin the fray, Louisa put her hand softly on his arm, gently shaking her head to let him know he should refrain. He understood and quietly rose asking, "I'm going to get some more fish. Can I get you anything?"

The next hour was spent pleasantly moving about the terrace enjoying the beauty of the garden and chatting with the other guests. Louisa held his hand throughout to reassure him that she would not abandon him, and he took pleasure in observing her at ease with her friends. He was silent except for the occasional positive grunt when another guest commented on one of the flower beds or the loveliness of the evening, and he never forgot to mutter, "nice to meet you" when Louisa introduced him to those he had not yet met.

Louisa was fairly certain that he had enjoyed the evening as much as was possible; his expression was generally neutral, occasionally pleasant, and she never saw a scowl cross his face unless Michael was dominating the conversation. And she loved having him close by, holding her hand or standing with his arm around her shoulder or waist. Later that night she slipped into bed and scooted over to face him as he lay on his back waiting for her. She propped her head up on her hand, tracing circles on his chest, and she asked him his thoughts. He had to admit that the evening went much better than he had anticipated, but that he was glad to be back alone with her in her cottage. When he reached up to caress her cheek and pull her face down to kiss her, she had to agree that she was glad to be back as well and returned the kiss with fervour.


	65. Chapter 65

**Chapter 65**

In times past the village had celebrated Whitsun, or Pentecost with a festival on the Platt. Now that it was celebrated as the Whitsun Bank holiday, or the Spring Bank Holiday, the day had taken on a more secular tone, but the village continued its festival with music, lots of pasties, rides, face painting, art displays and a footrace. Martin and Louisa had arranged to meet up with Joan at the festival for an hour early in the morning before it became too crowded and noisy. Louisa and Joan both loved the village celebrations and revelled in talking with all their friends and checking out the booths. Louisa in particular felt it was important that she support the fund-raising efforts by the various clubs in her school and stopped to admire and engage in the activities each of those booths afforded.

There were many tourists in town for the long weekend and the festival quickly grew crowded. After a half-hour or so, Martin found it all too overwhelming and excused himself back to Louisa's cottage where he could enjoy the next hour or so in serenity with his BMJ. Or so he had hoped. As soon as he sat down, Louisa's cat Miss Lizzie jumped up onto his lap. Startled, Martin sprang back, dropping the journal. "Shoo! Get off." He waved the cat away and pushed her onto the floor. But Lizzie was not to be deterred, and she jumped right back onto his lap, kneading his thighs with her paws. "Oh God." He thought a moment. He could take her up to the spare room and close the door, but that would entail carrying her through the lounge and up the stairs. In the end he picked her up and placed her next to him on the sofa. He shook his finger at her and peered straight into her eyes with a penetrating glare. "Stay." She returned his gaze with a steady look of her own, appearing to contemplate her options. In the end, she settled into the spot right next to him where he had placed her, curling up and falling asleep. Grimacing, he looked down at her and patted her head, "Good kitty."

Two hours later, Louisa opened the door and cried out, "Martin, we're home. Did you remember to put the casserole in the cooker?" Joan had brought a casserole to share for the midday meal and had asked Martin to put it on whilst they continued to enjoy the festivities.

"Yes, and I took it out nearly an hour ago so it wouldn't burn. It's probably cold by now. And I'm famished. Whatever were you doing down there for almost three hours?" Lizzie jumped down and ran over to Louisa, rubbing against her calves.

Louisa picked up her cat and started to stroke her. "Well you know ..." she couldn't really say how they had spent their time.

"No, I don't know." Martin was really hungry and his patience was flagging.

Joan walked over to the cooker to check on the casserole. "Martin, relax. Hmmm ... the casserole isn't too cold. Let me retrieve the salad from the fridge and we can eat"

Louisa continued her conversation with Martin. "I am head teacher at Portwenn primary and it's my responsibility to encourage all my students in their efforts to be part of the community. I waited until the foot race so I could cheer each of them on. It's a beautiful day and it was a lot of fun. I wish you could have enjoyed it." _"Besides,_" she thought, _"It may be my last spring festival as head teacher if I marry you and move to London."_

She had a wistful look on her face and Martin had no idea why. "I did enjoy it whilst I was there, but I had seen everything and saw no reason to stay."

Joan set the food out on the table which Martin had set with plates and flatware before they had left for the festival. "If you two are finished bickering, come over here and let's eat."

"We're not bickering." They replied simultaneously, surprising themselves. Startled, they turned toward each other, each with a quizzical look that said, "Were we?"

Her hands on her hips, Joan looked at them both, shaking her head, and then turned to dish up the meal. "Whatever," she huffed, amused at their interaction. "Just get over here so we can eat."

As they tucked into the meal, Louisa turned to Joan, "Joan, as usual you make the best casseroles. You must give us the recipe."

"Yes. Very good," agreed Martin, but he had other things on his mind. "Let's discuss how the renovations are coming along. I'd like to go back with you to take a look after our meal is concluded."

The renovations on the cottage were nearly complete and he had arranged a walk though the next day with Morgan, the contractor to confirm the final details. He was hopeful that the renovations would be complete by the time he arrived in early July to take Louisa to London for the summer break. For the most part, Aunty Joan couldn't contain her pleasure with the improvements and she was full of praise for the craftsmanship of the carpenters and the diligence they paid to their work. But there were one or two things that weren't working out as she had thought they should and she was glad that Martin wanted to check things out with her before the walk through the next day.

Joan left shortly after dinner, with Louisa and Martin following in her car. While they were driving, Martin said, "I'm glad you agreed to come. I'd like to hear you thoughts on the renovation and if there is anything that you would like different."

"It's really up to you and Joan though isn't it. It's your house after all."

Martin glanced her way, "Yes, but ..." Didn't she know that he hoped it would be her house someday as well?

In fact, Martin had discussed almost every aspect of the renovations with her from the beginning. She had given him her opinion regarding the design of the kitchen and the colour of the cabinets. They had discussed the most practical countertop material and the most desirable appliances. She had even given him her opinion regarding the tile to be used in the bathroom. Shortly before coming down that weekend, he had probed her mind regarding the paint colour to be used in repainting the interior.

"But I'd be happy to offer my opinions."She really was anxious to see the changes that had been made to the house.

"Good." Satisfied, he returned his focus to the road, and they soon pulled into the farm. It was a beautiful day without a cloud to mar the clear deep blue of the sky. They exited the car and surveyed the property, Martin evaluating the condition of the cottage's exterior and Louisa walking to the edge of the drive to look out over the fields leading to the sea. "This really is a beautiful place, idyllic almost." She could see in her mind's eye future summers spent here with her children playing in the fields, picnicking along the cliffs.

She walked over to Martin, "You must have wonderful memories of your summers here as a child. I can see how every day would be a marvellous adventure for a little boy."

"Hmmm?" Martin hadn't been paying attention as he was focused on a rough patch on the roof. "We may need to get the roof replaced whilst we are at it. I hadn't planned for that."

'Oh dear". She looked up at the roof. So much for getting Martin to reminisce; it was time to be practical and she thought that this would be her holiday home eventually if they were to marry and that she should continue to take an active interest in the renovations.

Martin jotted down the details about the roof in his notebook and they went into the kitchen. The kitchen was nearly complete with soft white cabinets lining the walls. Joan met them at the door, "The new kitchen will be beautiful, but really Martin, I think it is too much."

The kitchen was to be outfitted with all the appliances a home cook could possibly want. Martin was thinking forward to the time when he and Louisa would be doing much of the cooking. The new hob had been installed, a large stainless steel unit with five burners; the cooker hood hadn't been installed yet, but had been ordered. Two wall ovens and a warming drawer were on a side wall and a microwave was installed as part of the cabinetry. Space had been left for the dishwasher and the under counter fridges. There would be plenty of counter space for two or more cooks and a large island in the middle. "I like to cook Aunty Joan. You don't need to use all of the appliances, but I will when I come down."

Louisa stood in the doorway stunned. "This is magnificent Martin. I know you had discussed installing a functional kitchen, but I had no idea you would end up with this." As she looked around the room, she realised that he had taken almost all of her suggestions and incorporated them into the design. "What kind of countertops are to be installed?"

"They will be white granite with black striations running through it. It was one of the choices I showed to you last month." Martin remembered that she had indicated that it was her favourite of the ones he had selected. "As we discussed, granite is very durable and resistant to damage. The only downside is that it has to be sealed periodically. But I think it should be quite suitable for a holiday home."

Louisa remembered the selection, which she thought was quite striking. "It's going to be beautiful, and the kitchen will be so bright and cheerful with the white cabinets and countertops. What are you planning for the walls?"

"That's up to Joan who hasn't made a decision just yet. Almost any colour will work with the neutral cabinets and counters."

Joan was watching this conversation as it played out. She had decided that Martin was very serious about Louisa, and she was fairly certain that Louisa was interested in him as well, and she wondered to herself why they hadn't done anything about it yet. "_Why doesn't he just tell her that it is all for her? What will happen if she won't marry him? I do hope all this works out._" She realised that they were both looking at her expectantly. "What?"

"I was wondering if you had decided what colour to paint the walls in here."

"Oh ... what do you two think?"

"Aunty Joan. I have made most of the decisions up to now. I would think you might have a preference for the colour of your kitchen, and the rest of the house as well. If you can't decide, then I will have them painted a brilliant white."

"Ah yes, you would. I was thinking a soft yellow might be nice, or a bright blue or teal here in the kitchen, pick up the colour of the sea. I'm still deciding."

"I could pick up some sample pots for you to put on the walls if that would help. We can discuss that with Morgan tomorrow."

"A soft peach or apricot would be lovely too", Louisa added dreamily. She had picked up a decorating magazine while waiting at the hairdresser's last month and was taken with the picture of a lounge painted in a deep apricot. She was thinking of repainting her cottage lounge in the same colour on one of the weekends not spent with Martin. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Martin jerked his head in her direction staring at her as if she were mad. "_Wasn't that the colour that my dream Louisa wanted on the walls?"_

Louisa noticed his expression, "What? You don't like that idea?"

"Uh ... no ... that would be fine, but it's up to Joan."

Joan had a million other things she would rather do than pick out paint colours, but realised that she needed to go along with Martin on this; after all she would be living with the colours, not Martin and Louisa. And while she loved both peaches and apricots in season, they belonged in her fruit bowl, not on her walls.

"I'll ask Morgan to bring a paint fan deck for you to use to decide on some colours, then the painters can put up some sample swatches on the walls for you to finalise your decision.

"Yes, that would be good. I'll work with him on the painting. In the meantime, could you come take a look at the downstairs bath? I'm not so sure about those shelves we decided to install."

Martin and Joan headed out to inspect the newly installed bath, but Louisa stayed behind in the kitchen, exploring the cabinets and appliances, marvelling at not only the utility of the space, but also the beauty of the craftsmanship. She stood at the sink and stared out the window with its expansive view of the sea beyond, wondering if this would be her view at holiday times in the future.

Finally unable to resist the call of the outdoors, she opened the door and headed out to explore. She slowly made her way across the field toward the sea cliffs where she lingered contemplating the events that had led her here on this day, to this farm with a man she had not known this time last year. Her visit with Holly and her accident, Martin's noticing her in A&amp;E, the patient whose family shared with him their love and concern for her safety, his resulting dream, a very bizarre dream about a family of his own, the search for Holly's new ward that placed her in the hallway where Martin would approach her to offer help, such a random confluence of events that had led her to this farm with the hope that she would soon share part of her life with him here. Could it be more than chance? They would never know. But one thing was for certain, wasn't it? Life was unpredictable.

"Louisa!" She heard Martin shouting her name and she turned to go back waving at him as she drifted through the grass back to the house. Martin strode out to meet her. "I thought you would want to see the rest of the house."

"Mm. You didn't need me and it's such a beautiful day, I thought I'd wander a bit and enjoy it."

"Mmm," he responded, holding his hands behind his back and looking out to sea. "Aunty Joan and I used to have picnics out here when I was young, near this very spot. We'd watch the sailboats come round the point out there."

She followed the direction of his finger and imagined how magical that must have seemed to a young boy from the city. "That sounds idyllic. Perhaps we could have a picnic here sometime when you are visiting."

He turned his gaze toward her, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he thought about sharing that experience with her, "Yes, I'd like that."


	66. Chapter 66

**A new chapter this morning, **** especially for those of you, like me, who are snowed in. Stay warm.**

**Chapter 66**

They strolled back to the house. Martin wanted to finalise his list of concerns to discuss with Morgan before they left for the day, and there were a few items on which he wanted input from Louisa. By the time they had finished, it was getting on towards supper time. Joan offered to prepare an evening meal for them, but they graciously declined. After all she had prepared their midday meal. Even so, she insisted they take a few eggs back with them for breakfast the next morning.

As they pulled out of the farm yard onto the coastal road, Martin reminded Louisa that she needed to let him know how many things she planned to take with her to London so he could make room for her in his cupboards and dresser drawers.

"It's summer so I won't need a lot of heavy clothing. I imagine that two or three bags should do it. Then there's my laptop. You have a printer if I need one, right?"

Martin nodded in the affirmative.

"Then there are Lizzie's things, her litter box and food dishes and her pillow bed. She will be in her carrier whilst we are in the car, so we will need room for that."

"I didn't think you would be bringing her. Can't you find someone to care for her whilst you are in London?" Martin said this in as even a tone as possible, fully aware that his comment could be the start of a full-fledged row.

"It's four weeks Martin, almost five. I can't leave her alone in the cottage all that time."

"Won't she be disoriented in a new place for so short a time?" Martin scowled with distaste; he really did not want to have Lizzie in his home.

"No. I will introduce her to the flat slowly and she'll be fine. Besides she keeps me company. I miss her when I travel to London to see you, even when it is just a few days."

"But you have me to keep you company."

"Yes, and I love being with you," she smiled over at him and placed her hand gently on his thigh. "But I like having Lizzie around also. And what about the nights this summer when you are out on call? She will keep me company and she'll keep me warm at night."

"What!? Do you plan on her sleeping in our bed? No ... no! Absolutely not! I won't have a cat in our bed." Martin was horrified, especially at the thought that the cat could trod on his bed right after using the litter box. There was no way to calculate the amount of filth that could be spread that way.

She briefly considered pointing out that Lizzie shared her cottage bed whenever Martin wasn't there, but then thought better of it. No need to escalate this conversation. "Of course not when you are there, but when you are out ..."

Martin sighed deeply. "Louisa, I'm really not comfortable having a cat in my flat."

Ignoring this last objection, Louisa thought out loud, "I suppose I could sleep in the guest room when you are out. That way she won't be in our bed."

"But she will still be in the flat." Raising his head imperiously, he repeated more loudly, "Louisa, I really am not comfortable with an animal sharing the flat."

Louisa turned to look out the window. She knew that Martin had been somewhat resistant to Lizzie, but she had thought, or perhaps hoped that he was coming round. After all, Lizzie was curled up next to him on the couch when they returned from the village fair this afternoon, and he seemed at peace with her there. She turned back to address him quietly, "Martin, I told you that Lizzie and I are a package. If she were my child, would you make me leave her in the village whilst I was with you?"

"Of course not, but it's not the same thing is it?'

"It is to me. Lizzie's as much my family as my mother or my brother."

"Brother? You have a brother?" Martin shifted his weight in his seat and checked the traffic in the car's mirrors as the ramifications of her comment sunk in. "You never told me about a brother. Is he a fisherman like your father?" This was news to Martin and his tone was accusatory. He had assumed she was an only child just as he himself. In his mind's eye, he was picturing a rangy fisherman with a screeching wife and snotty, snivelling kids gathered around his holiday table for years to come. A cat was bad enough, but to marry into a working class family; he was beginning to have doubts.

"No, Alan's a detective inspector in Yorkshire. He's three years older than I am and he has a lovely wife, Annie who's a nurse and two little girls, Abigail and Amelia; they are as cute as can be. I think you will like him. He's quiet and thoughtful just like you are."

"Mmm," Martin was slightly mollified. A policeman was better than a dirty fisherman ... barely ... but if he had a moderate disposition, as Louisa described him, it was possible that he could tolerate him. "Are there any other Glasson's lurking about that I should know of?"

"I do have that cousin in America that I told you about, Sylvia. Her mum was Dad's older sister, but she died a few years back. I think her husband is a banker, but I'm not sure. We exchange e-mails occasionally and she sends me pictures of her children, but we haven't visited in years. And mum has a brother, crazy Uncle Raife, never married, lives like a hermit up in ... oh ... one of those islands off the Scottish coast. I can't remember the name. We haven't seen or heard from him in years. I suppose he's still alive."

Louisa turned to face him. Now was her chance to learn more about Martin's family. He had always changed the subject whenever she asked him about his parents. "But now that we're on the subject of relatives, I know about your two aunts, but I know nothing about your parents or if you have any brothers or sisters or if you have any crazy Ellingham uncles "lurking about". Want to shed some light on the Ellingham clan for me? Hmmm?"

He glanced over at her smiling face as she posed the question. Ignoring the grin on her face and the twinkle in her eye, he deepened his scowl and returned his gaze to the road. He hated discussing his family. "My father was a surgeon; you know his sisters. My mother was a socialite, only child, so there are no crazy uncles about. I am an only child, no siblings that I am aware of."

"_That's an odd way to put it"_ Louisa thought. "What do you mean, none that you are aware of?"

"My father was, probably still is, your typical surgeon with a 'wandering eye'. Never could keep his hands off a pretty woman, or so I've heard. I suppose there could be a bastard or two lurking about." Martin answered her question in disgust. He often wondered about his father's many conquests and whether there were any resultant offspring.

Louisa was shocked by his answer. Yes, there were many children in her village whose parents had never married, but no one ever referred to them as bastards. Many of them struggled in poverty and some with neglect, but most were wanted and loved in the end. But the words that shook her the most were "typical surgeon with a 'wandering eye'".

"Are you a typical surgeon, Martin?"

"Uh ... what?" He checked for on-coming traffic before making the right hand turn onto the road leading into the village.

"I asked, are you a typical surgeon?"

He was confused, "What do you mean? I am a surgeon; you know that." Suddenly he realised what she was getting at. "I'm not like my father."

That old fear of betrayal overwhelmed her, and before she could think the words were tumbling out. "Are you sure you don't have a 'wandering eye'? A typical surgeon has a 'wandering eye' ...your words, not mine."

He gripped the steering wheel tightly, gritting his teeth, frustrated that she might still be harbouring doubts about him. "I am not like my father. I have told you before that I would never cheat on you."

"Yes, you did. But ..." She had convinced herself that he would be faithful, but that was how she had felt about Dennis, and he had been quite adept at hiding his dalliances from her, all the while professing complete fidelity. "You've told me you've never been married, but you wear a wedding band on your right hand. Do you have a wife hidden away somewhere in the suburbs, and move your wedding ring to your other hand when you are with me?"

Even as she asked the question she realised it was absurd; his London flat with the fully equipped kitchen, all the artwork and medical books didn't look like a pied-à-terre. And how could he marry her if he already had a wife? And wouldn't Joan or Ruth know about any marriage. And if not them, surely Chris and Michelle would know if he were married? They all encouraged his relationship with her.

She knew her fears were irrational, that she should trust him, but she couldn't help herself, and she could feel tears welling up. Why, why did she say that to him? She did trust him and she needed him to know that. Immediately she reached over to touch his arm and apologised, "No, no. I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. Truly ... That was a ridiculous thing to say, I know you're not married. I know you wouldn't ... Please forgive me."

They had reached the village car park, and Martin was easing her car into its space. He put on the brake and removed his seat belt. Staring out the front of the windscreen, he sighed and pulled the ring off his finger, placing it into her hand. "Read the inscription."


	67. Chapter 67

**Chapter 67**

She held the ring up to the late afternoon light, turning it so she could read the inscription. Inside the ring in an old fashioned script were the names 'Henry' and 'Elizabeth' with two entwined hearts between them.

Martin climbed out of her small sedan and opened her door. "The ring was my grandfather's," he explained. "Let's go back to your cottage and I'll tell you why I wear it." He gave her his hand to assist her out of the car, and held onto it as they walked slowly and quietly back to the cottage. Louisa hung her head, ashamed of her behaviour, but Martin kept his gaze straight ahead. He was extremely disappointed that she still doubted him. Her apology didn't cover up the fact that she still had concerns. When they entered the cottage, Martin headed straight to the kitchen where he poured himself a glass of water. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Water would be fine," she answered absently.

He filled another glass and handed it to her and then led her to the sofa. It was obvious that her fear of betrayal was deep-rooted, and he sat close to her and held her hand in both of his, rubbing her palm gently with his thumb. He began in a quiet and tender voice. "My grandfather, Henry Martin Ellingham was a distinguished physician in his time. As early as I can remember he would let me into his study and show me special things from his collections: insects, butterflies, rocks, seashells, even his clocks."

"I could look, but I wasn't allowed to touch. Then, on my fifth birthday, he gave me my first frog to dissect. He put the blade in my hand showing me the proper way to hold it, and then he explained exactly how to make the incision. At his instruction, I removed each of the organs whilst he identified them and explained how they functioned: the stomach, the liver, the gall bladder, the intestines, and so forth. He patiently answered all my questions, something my parents never did. It was then that I knew I wanted to become a doctor, make him proud of me. I wanted to be just like him."

"He died when I was twelve. He had a special pair of cuff links that he frequently wore; they were engraved with the insignia of his medical school. When Joan and Ruth were disposing of his personal things, I asked if I could have them. Joan gave them to me along with several other pairs and his wedding ring saying no one else would want them. My grandmother was still living then, but was ill herself and couldn't care for any of his things. I don't know why Joan or Ruth didn't want them, but I was happy to have the keepsakes. Of course the ring was too big for my preadolescent fingers, but I carried it in my pocket for every exam to remind me of him and for good luck. By the time I reached medical school my hands had grown and I put it on my finger for my first exams and I haven't removed it since. I've added to the cuff link collection since them, but I still wear his from time to time on special days."

Louisa could feel the tears slipping down her cheeks as he was telling her his story, and she wiped them away with her fingers. The gruff, rude facade he presented to the world hid a truly kind, sensitive and sentimental soul. She felt honored that he trusted her enough to share this part of his life history with her. "Martin, that is a beautiful story. I am so ashamed of my outburst in the car. I knew as soon as I asked about the ring that I was out of line. Please forgive me."

"As long as we are together, and I hope it will be a long, long time, I will never be unfaithful to you. I wish you had enough trust in me to know that. I'm not your ex and I'm not my father."

Louisa leaned in hugging him, "I know ..." She buried her head into his chest and then mumbled, "Sometimes I just can't help myself." She started to cry. Martin wasn't sure how to react so he wrapped his other arm around her and stroked her shoulders, "Shhh, shhh." As he comforted her, he couldn't help mentally cursing that duplicitous snake of an ex-husband for leaving her with this fear of betrayal.

After a few minutes, Louisa stopped sobbing and he offered her his handkerchief to wipe her eyes and cheeks. "Shall we prepare a light supper? I'm quite hungry."

She smiled up at him and agreed.

As they worked together preparing supper, both felt the tension of the day slip away as they engaged in their usual kitchen conversation, preparing a salad, chopping some vegetables to sauté, deciding on the herbs for the sauce for the fish Martin had bought earlier, etc.

After the washing up, they sat together on the sofa enjoying a hot cup of tea.

Louisa was still embarrassed at her outburst on the way home and had been thinking about it all through the evening. "Martin, I don't know what got into me this evening, but I want to promise you that I will never again question your integrity. And I didn't keep the fact that I have a brother from you on purpose. It just never came up."

"Yes. I was just surprised that you hadn't mentioned him before."

"I think this speaks to the fact that we really don't know each other that well, that there's still a lot we have to learn."

"Mm."

'You have never told me much about your family before. I like that you told me about your grandfather. He must have been special."

"Yes. As I told you he was a distinguished physician."

"Were you named for him? You said his name was Henry Martin Ellingham."

"Yes, Martin for him. My middle name is Christopher, my father's name."

"Isn't that interesting. My brother's name is Alan Robert. Alan was my grandfather's name and Robert was my father's name. My middle name is Roberta, after my dad as well. Will you give your son Martin as his middle name?"

"Perhaps. I hadn't ever thought about it. But I will never use the name Christopher. No child should be ah ... will be my father's namesake."

"You really don't get on, do you?"

"No. We haven't spoken in over seven years."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I don't think he really wanted to have a child. And I was awkward, shy and weak, always being bullied. I think he was embarrassed by me. I never spent more than a few weeks each year with my parents after I went off to boarding school. Even when we had parents' weekends at school, they never came. Only grandfather came; I attended the same school as he had and I think he enjoyed visiting the old school grounds as much as seeing me. He was semi-retired by then and had the time. My father was always working, and my mother had social obligations."

Louisa was quiet at this revelation, not knowing how to respond, wondering about his mother. Didn't she want him either? How could a mother not want her child? She wanted to ask about her, but Martin had not offered anything more; perhaps it was too painful. She sensed that this was not the time to ask, so she took his hand and caressed his fingers. "But you spent summers here with Joan?"

"Yes and usually holidays. But not after I was twelve, not after Grandfather died. My visits stopped then and I usually stayed at school during the summer and holidays. I sometimes wonder if Grandfather had insisted that I be allowed to spend the summers with Joan. I missed my summers in Cornwall, but Dad said it was time for me to grow up. In the end, I used the extra time at school for study, and was able to start medical school a year earlier than normal."

"That should have made your father proud."

"He expected no less."

"But now? You are an exceptional surgeon."

"I don't know. I haven't seen him in years."

"I'm going to warm up my tea. Do you want any more?"

"No. I'm fine."

Lizzie had been sitting on Louisa's lap while they were talking and she had to move her in order to get to the kitchen. Lizzie scowled up at her as she left the room, then glanced over to Martin's empty lap and jumped on. "Shoo ... off ." Lizzie refused to budge so he picked her up and set her on the sofa next to him, where she settled after giving him a critical look. When Louisa returned, she smiled at the sight of Lizzie curled up next to Martin. "We still need to resolve Lizzie and my summer in London."

Martin had been dreading this conversation all evening. "Yes."

"Well?"

Martin scowled, hesitating. "Um ... as I said, I'm really not comfortable with a cat in the flat."

Louisa sat down next to Lizzie and absently started to scratch under her chin. Lizzie started to purr, then rolled over, stretching her legs out in hopes of a belly rub. Louisa buried her fingers in the soft fur and trailed them back and forth gently stroking the cat's tummy. Martin grimaced as he watched her fondling the cat who was likely covered in pathogens, but Louisa failed to notice as she continued to pet Lizzie who purred loudly with pleasure. "You know, Lizzie likes you. Look how she was curled up next to you just now, and she was sleeping next to you when Joan and I came back from the fair earlier. Lizzie is a good judge of character. Do you remember when you visited the village in October and you came over and we cooked dinner together?"

"Mm ... yes." Martin thought back to that time with pleasure and a slight smile darted across his face. He had enjoyed the evening immensely.

"Lizzie came into the kitchen and rubbed against your leg. She is normally very shy and skittish around new people, but not with you. It was as if she knew you were special. She made me look at you in a new light. You had alienated a number of people in the village, but not Lizzie. What was it that Lizzie could sense in you? Obviously there was more to you than I had seen up to that point, although I will confess I found you strangely attractive. I wanted to get to know you better because of Lizzie ... Lizzie is the reason we are together now."

Lizzie, content with her belly rub had turned over and fallen asleep, snuggled tightly between her two favorite people. He looked down at the cat and over at Louisa who continued to lightly stroke her fur. It was a quiet scene of domesticity, a scene he had never anticipated being part of. He contemplated the cat once again and he knew he was going to regret what he was about to say. "I guess we can give it a try."

Louisa grinned up at him and then leaned over Lizzie and kissed him fully on the lips. Then she scratched Lizzie on the head and said to her "Hear that Lizzie? You're going to be a city cat this summer." She picked her up and placed her on her lap so that she could move over next to Martin. As she snuggled into his side, she tried to ease his mind. "I'm sure it will work out. You might even grow to love Lizzie."

"Fat chance."

She reached up and kissed him on his cheek. "Dance with me Martin."

He hesitated. They danced frequently in the privacy of his flat or her cottage, simple slow dances, and faster energetic swing dances. They had even tried doing the cha-cha and foxtrot, which they both agreed wasn't for them. Mastery of these dance steps were part of the compulsory class at school, but he always felt foolish engaging in any but the simpler slow dances, that is until he met Louisa. He had observed early on in their relationship that dancing was a type of foreplay for Louisa. They usually ended their dancing with a lingering and passionate kiss and a slow dance to the bedroom. Ordinarily he was more than happy to indulge her love of dance, but tonight he was concerned; it had been a full day and emotional. "Are you certain?"

She smiled at him, knowing full well where things would lead. "Yes, Martin. I want to dance with you tonight."

Before they had sat down, he had put on a CD of soft jazz and one of the more smoky tunes was playing. He stood up and gave her his hand, then placed his right hand around her waist. She placed her hand around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder whilst he led her in a slow sensuous dance.

He responded to her closeness in the usual way and she could feel his desire pressing against her. She rubbed up close to him and whispered, "Hmm ... what's this?"

"Just Pavlovian conditioning, also known as classical conditioning, a type of associative ..."

She cut him off. "I wasn't asking for a medical lecture, just thought you might want to go upstairs."

"Not yet." He had discovered that he himself enjoyed the pleasures of dancing with her and holding her close, and he wanted to savor the sensation a while longer.

"This is nice, isn't it?" She kissed him on his cheek and then placed her head back on his shoulder as they moved together to the rhythm of the music.

He pulled her closer. "Soon."


	68. Chapter 68

**Chapter 68**

Slowly they made their way through the London traffic. Martin's nerves were on edge. It had been a challenging weekend packing all her things and then loading them into the car. The cat had wailed for the first half-hour of the trip before settling, and then an hour later Louisa needed to make a stop for the toilet. He understood the physiology of the female body, but honestly the trip wasn't more than four hours, five at the most, and she had to make two stops. At the first stop, he had balked when she went to purchase a sugary soda, suggesting that she forgo the empty calories and extra fluid for a small sip of water, but noooo … she insisted, stating that she needed the caffeine to keep her energy up. He tried to explain how that would result only in a sugar rush followed by an overall drop in her energy levels, but she ignored his advice and bought it anyway, hence the second toilet stop, after which the cat started crying again. It was not an auspicious start to their summer together.

Finally however, they turned into the garage under his building. His head was pounding. He pulled into his assigned parking space, turned off the engine, closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the seat for a moment trying to calm himself before exiting the car. Patience was not a virtue he had in abundance; he had held his temper in check for the entire trip and knew he was close to exploding. At least the cat had stopped its screeching once the car had stopped. A few moments of quiet ... that's all he needed.

She knew that the trip had taxed his patience, especially the second time she needed to stop for the toilet. His stony silence as he turned into the rest area had been deafening. She couldn't help it if travelling by car always made her wee. Then Miss Lizbeth started mewling again. She could see him grip the wheel ever tighter the closer they got to London. She had brought some crossword puzzles for them to work on together to pass the time, which was enjoyable for an hour or so, but after the second stop, she put them away. By then neither of them was in the mood for games.

Now that they had arrived, she hoped things would go more smoothly. He really had been patient with her and Lizzie; actually it surprised her because even she found her nerves fraying with Lizzie's constant wailing. Thank god she had quieted once they arrived. When Martin closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest, she knew he needed some time and she very quietly gathered her book and personal items into her purse and waited for him to stir.

A minute later, he leaned forward with his head resting against the steering wheel. "Oh dear," she cooed and started to rub his back and shoulders. His entire body was tense. "That wasn't a very pleasant trip, was it?"

"Mmm ..."

She continued to massage his shoulders and could feel the knots in his muscles start to relax. "Sorry about the second stop. I probably shouldn't have had that big cup of cola, but I was so thirsty after packing the car all morning."

"I did advise against it. Maybe next time you will listen to me," he growled.

"mm … yes." She could tell that now was not a good time to take offense or argue the point. She pulled her hands back onto her lap. "Well we're here now, so why don't we start to unpack."

He lifted his head and released a loud sigh, "Yes. You take the cat up and I'll bring some of the bags."

They climbed out of the car and Louisa stood and stretched her arms high over her head. "It feels so good to be out of the car."

Martin had already moved to the back of the car and opened the boot. He looked around impatiently. "Yes. Let's get started."

"Right." Louisa opened the back door and picked up her laptop and the carrier with Lizzie in it; Martin removed two of the suitcases from the boot, and they headed to the elevator. Fortunately they were able to make the trip up to his flat without encountering any other residents.

On Louisa's last trip to London near the end of June, she had purchased new supplies for Lizzie, a cat litter tray and scoop along with a bag of cat litter, some feeding dishes, and a few new cat toys. She had decided it would be more expedient to buy these items in London rather than carry them back and forth from Portwenn, leaving more room in the car for other necessities. Louisa immediately took Lizzie to the spare bathroom where she had placed the litter box. She closed the bathroom door and then opened the carrier door. Lizzie sprang out of the carrier and started to explore. Louisa picked her up and put her into the litter box to ensure she knew where it was. They didn't need any accidents the first night in their new home.

"Louisa?" Martin was calling her. "We need to finish unpacking the car"

"Yes. I'll be right there." She had decided that Lizzie would spend the first night in the bathroom, and had brought a few things with the scent of her cottage to comfort her, her cat bed that had sat in the corner of her cottage and one of her old sweatshirts since she wouldn't be sleeping with her this summer. She gave Lizzie a quick cuddle and then joined Martin for a second trip back down to the car to bring up those items plus her overnight case with her toiletries. Martin grabbed his weekend bag and her smaller suitcase, dropped them at the entrance to the flat, and then headed down for the last of her luggage.

Louisa was in the spare bathroom where she had placed Lizzie's things and was giving her another cuddle when Martin searched her out, "Louisa?"

"I'm in here". She put Lizzie down on the mat, got up and slipped out the door. "Is that everything?"

"Yes, I placed the last of your bags near the closet in here." She and Martin had agreed that she would use the closet in the spare room to store her clothing and that she would use the spare bathroom most mornings as well. Most weekdays they would be preparing for the day around the same time and having their own space would make mornings run much more smoothly and efficiently.

She looked around the room. "Good. I guess I should start the unpacking."

"Mmm ... Yes." He glanced around the room which was cluttered with her bags and various personal items. He hoped she would be able to store them in an organised fashion; her cottage wasn't as perfectly ordered as his flat, but it was generally neat and tidy. And after the trip down, he was even more anxious about having her cat in the flat. "How is the cat settling in? I hope her behaviour during the trip isn't a foreshadowing of her likely behaviour for the summer."

"I think she's fine. I've fed her and shown her the litter box and put out her bed and comfort items. I'll introduce her to the flat slowly and I'm sure she will settle in nicely." Louisa asserted with more confidence than she felt; she was all too aware that things could go badly

"Mmm ..." Martin wasn't convinced; but at this point, he had no choice but to give her a chance. If the cat couldn't get settled, it could mean the end of their relationship. The scowl that had darkened his face since the time they arrived had softened into his usual neutral expression. "I'm getting hungry. Shall I go purchase something for dinner whilst you unpack?"

Louisa crossed the room and put her arms around his waist and gave him a hug. "That sounds good." She smiled up at him and saw one corner of his mouth turn up in a half smile; even though he was not returning her hug, that semi-smile was a good sign that the misery of the trip was abating.

He looked into her eyes as she continued to hug him and gently asked, "Is there anything in particular you'd like?"

"Something simple, maybe soup and salad or a light curry or pasta primavera. I know I can trust you to find something healthy and tasty. Do we have anything for breakfast tomorrow?"

Unable to resist her closeness, he raised his hands to her shoulders and flicked a few strands from her ponytail back off her shoulders. "Yes, I believe we have eggs, bread for toast, tea and coffee. I can pick up some fruit if you'd like."

"Mmm ... yes maybe a melon or some berries if they look good."

He started to pull away, but she hugged him tighter and reached up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, "Thank you."

He pulled back to look at her puzzled.

"For being so patient today. I know Lizzie made the trip miserable, but things will get better. I promise."

She walked him to the door and kissed him fully on the lips before he opened the door. As she was closing the door behind him, he turned around, "Umm ... Don't forget ...umm... I cleared out two drawers for you in our room for your night things and there's ...umm... room for some of your toiletries in the master en-suite."

"Yes, I remember," she replied her eyes twinkling. Closing the door once again, she hugged herself and grinned. "Our room" he had called his bedroom; she liked the sound of that and she liked the thought that they were already settling into a comfortable domesticity. They had manoeuvred safely through their first domestic challenge, travelling together with a cat, without a major row. She knew it was still extremely early in their summer cohabitation and that things wouldn't always go so well, but for now she was extremely happy, so happy she danced and twirled her way back to the spare room.


	69. Chapter 69

**Chapter 69**

Louisa's first day didn't start until two in the afternoon when registration was scheduled to open. Orientation would start at three followed by working group assignments at half three. There was still some material that she needed to review before then, but even so, she was able to sleep in while Martin prepared for the day.

Initially he had planned to shower and change in the spare room this morning to let her sleep, but had reconsidered because of the cat. Louisa assured him that he would not disturb her while he was preparing for the day. In fact, she propped herself up and watched him dress, enjoying every second as he selected his suit and tie from the wardrobe, pulled up his trousers, put on his socks, buttoned his shirt, added the cufflinks, knotted his tie and finally donned his suit jacket. At that point she slipped out from under the duvet and approached him, adjusting his tie and straightening his coat; neither required adjustments, but she loved the way he looked, and told him so, "You look so yummy; I just want to eat you up." She grabbed his head in both hands and gave him a good morning kiss.

Surprised, Martin blushed, "Nothing special ... everyday attire."

"I know, but it makes me want to reverse the process and have my way with you."

He forced the image from his mind and removed her hands, chastising, "Louisa, I have procedures this morning. I must get going."

She laughed, "Yes ... but think about it. Maybe tonight?"

"Certainly a possibility, perhaps even a probability."

"Um ... yes. I hope so," and she shivered with delight. She loved his way with words, so unlike any other man she had ever known and she stole another kiss before he was able to turn toward the bedroom door. He managed to pull himself away and he made his way to the kitchen, but not before he took a peek into the spare room where Louisa's things were still strewn about. Scowling, he continued on toward the kitchen where he started the coffee maker and put an egg on to boil.

Louisa watched him leave the room and swirling the skirt of her nightgown, she headed into the en-suite to quickly freshen up before breakfast. He was peeling a banana as she walked in. She noticed that he hadn't made the toast yet, so she pulled out the bread and dropped two slices into the toaster before she put on the kettle for tea.

"Would you like an egg? I would be happy to boil another one for you."

"No, I think I'll just have a piece of toast and some tea for now." She handed him the first two slices of toast and put one more into the toaster for herself.

He took his egg and coffee to the table. "It's no trouble. You should eat more than toast; I would be happy to boil another egg for you for protein, or you could have a piece of cheese. A piece of fruit? I bought some berries yesterday. Some fruit juice for vitamins is good also. Would you like some of my banana?"

"I will eat an egg later and have an orange from the bowl. Don't worry I'll be fine, and I'll have a good lunch when I meet Amy at noon." She sipped on her tea and watched as he dipped his toast into his egg and took a bite. He was so focused, as he always was, on the activity of the moment. Nonetheless she tried to engage him, "So what's on your agenda for today?"

He looked up at her and finished chewing his toast and swallowed. "The usual: several procedures, then rounds, then consultations." He reached for his coffee.

"Mmm ... I see. I should be done with the first day activities in time to buy dinner. What would you like?"

"Some lean protein, some fresh vegetables or salad, and a whole grain, ether bread or brown rice, or a potato. I'll trust your judgement. We can prepare it together when I arrive home?"

"Yes."

He had been pondering a politic way to address the mess in the spare room. Clutter of any kind made him anxious and he wanted it cleared up before he arrived home. He needed to make it clear that the current disarray was unacceptable. "Um ... I noticed that you haven't finished unpacking. Perhaps you can tidy things up before you meet with Amy. If you put your bags near the front door, I can take them down to my storage locker before dinner."

"I'll try, but I have a good bit of material I need to read through before I leave."

Mmm ... yes please try." He sniffed and raised his head before continuing in a somewhat condescending tone. "I frequently work at the desk for an hour or two in the evenings and I cannot concentrate when the room is in shambles."

Glaring at him, she replied somewhat snippily, "Yes Martin, I will do my best."

He tucked his chin and looked up at her through hooded eyes. "Good."

Louisa had a full day planned and after Martin's remark about straightening the room, it suddenly became even busier. After he left, she fed Lizzie, cleaned the litter box, and then fixed herself a nutritious breakfast which she carried into the spare room where she planned to work on her laptop while eating breakfast. She looked around the room and had to agree with Martin that it was a mess. She would have to review her course material quickly so that she could put the room to rights before she left. She cleared a space on the desk where she set her breakfast tray and opened up her laptop.

Before she sat down, she let Lizzie out of the bathroom so that she could explore. She had decided to gradually introduce her to the flat to avoid overwhelming her after the traumatic trip the previous day. While Lizzie explored, she sat down at Martin's desk and logged into her e-mail and started to review the material for her summer courses. Soon Lizzie jumped up onto her lap and Louisa greeted her with a snuggle. "How do you like your new home so far?" Lizzie responded to the attention with a loud purr, turned around in her lap once or twice and settled in for a nap.

As she looked out the window at the park across the street, Louisa felt at home. The manicured garden wasn't as wild and exciting as the seascape at home or as carefree as the flowers that grew wild all along the lanes in Cornwall, but it was quite pretty. The trees were large and provided wonderful shade from the heat that could consume London in the summer and the flower beds were a riot of colourful summer annuals interspersed with occasional decorative grasses. There were a few children playing along the paths and Louisa found herself daydreaming about her own children playing on the small patch of grass or launching toy boats in the fountain.

The ping of her laptop as it went into sleep mode brought her attention back to the present and the notes she was supposed to have read before registering for her summer program later that day. The primary purpose of the course was to learn about the new regulations on education standards for state primary schools. Additional sections that she had elected to take were separate seminars on contemporary use of technology in mathematics, social studies, and science. She was also taking a course on grants available to primary schools and tips on applying for and winning these grants. Louisa thought she was pretty knowledgeable when it came to applying for special grant money, but the school always needed extra funds and any tips she could pick up would be useful. It was going to be a challenging four weeks, full days Monday through Friday with only an hour for lunch every day except Wednesday when she had a three hour break. She hoped to visit Martin on one or two of those Wednesdays in his office for lunch to see him in his element.

Before she knew it, it was nearly time to leave to meet with Amy and she hadn't begun to put things away. She hurriedly threw a few dresses and tops into the wardrobe and started to put her intimate apparel into one of the drawers, but soon it was absolutely time to leave. Perhaps she could finish it after she returned home before Martin arrived. She had noticed that his flat was always impeccable whenever she visited. She kept her own cottage orderly, but inevitably things would pile up when she was particularly busy. The tone of his voice this morning as he asked her to put the room in order was a warning that their standards differed and this could be a problem going forward.

She met Amy for lunch at the cafe where Amy had gone into labour just a few months ago. Louisa had offered to bring her takeaway so she wouldn't have to take Gina out, but Amy insisted, telling her a lunch outing would do wonders for her soul. "I love taking care of her and watching her as she grows and develops, but it can be mind-numbing as well; it's good to get out and visit with a friend."

The wait staff recognised Amy and Louisa as soon as they walked into the cafe and they rushed over to peek at Gina, making a fuss, oohing and aahing and offering Amy hugs and congratulations. After a few minutes and signals from other diners that they were needed, the staff returned to their work and the hostess ushered them to a table in the corner and handed them menus. They propped the baby on the table where they could both see her, and then perused the menu, placing their order quickly so they would have plenty of time to visit.

"Shouldn't be any quick trips to hospital today, I hope." Louisa laughed as she teased her friend.

'I'm not planning anything special, but Gina might." Turning to the baby, she shook her finger and admonished, "No poopie diapers for at least the next hour, do you understand?"

The baby smiled and burbled a reply as if she had understood and was happy to comply. Amy cooed at her daughter and smiled before turning her attention to Louisa, "Before I forget, Thomas and I were wondering if you and Martin would be free to come over for brunch this Sunday?"

Louisa was holding the baby's arm shaking it ever so gently and unable to tear her gaze from Gina's face replied, "I would love to, but I'll have to check with Martin, make sure he hasn't planned anything. I'll get back with you tomorrow and let you know."

"So ... you're here in London for the summer and staying with Martin. Getting serious?"

Louisa wasn't really sure how much she should disclose. She hadn't seriously discussed her relationship with anyone other than Michelle Parsons, and that was a while back. She would have liked to share her thoughts and concerns with Alicia, but given Alicia's resistance to her relationship with him, she hesitated. She was anxious to share her thoughts and concerns so she pulled her eyes away from the baby and confided, "Yes. We have been talking marriage, and if things go well this summer, we will probably go for it."

"Are you concerned that things might not go well?"

"Well ... I really do love and admire Martin. He is an extraordinary man. But ..."

"Out with it, but ... what?"

Louisa thought how to express her fears, "You've met him. He's not the most sociable man in the country. When we're out together with others, sometimes he doesn't say more than two or three words to anyone else all night. And he can be rude, sometimes even with me. Maybe rude isn't the right term, more like blunt and gruff. He just says what he thinks and doesn't care how he comes across or what others think. He's convinced he's right."

"Then why are you with him?"

Louisa got dreamy eyed and propped her head on her hand, "Oh ... he's so thoughtful, caring and considerate, always thinking of my welfare."

"Which is the opposite of what you just said."

"No not really. His actions speak louder than his words, although sometimes he says the sweetest things, and he has no idea he's said them, so I know they're from his heart. And I know he's ready to start a family and you know how hard it is to find a man who wants a family."

Amy was thoughtful. "Both of you are ready to have a family which is nice, but you have to want him, not just the family he can provide."

Louisa laughed at Amy's words, "Oh, I do want him, pretty much every night."

Amy laughed at her friend's implication. "You know that's not what I meant." She lowered her voice and leaned across the table, "although sex is important. He's good in bed, then?"

Louisa grinned, "Umm ... very."

The waitress brought their lunches and asked if there was anything else they needed. They both smiled at her with a "not now, thank you." Unable to resist, the waitress tickled Gina on her tummy, cooing in a sing-song voice, "Darling baby, yes you are," and Gina rewarded her with a chuckle. Pleased with the response, she smiled at the baby and gave her one more quick tickle before returning to her work with a quick "Just let me know if you need anything" aimed at Amy and Louisa.

Amy returned to the subject at hand. "So we were discussing Martin's prowess in the bedroom." She doused her chips in vinegar. 'What about when that's not as big a part of your life with him. Will you still want to share your life with him? Do you like to do things together?" She raised her eyebrows, "Besides in the bedroom?"

"We both love to cook, and we've discovered we like to do crossword puzzles together. It kept us entertained on the trip down." Louisa groaned and slumped sightly in her chair, "Oh ... that trip ... didn't go as well as I'd hoped."

"What happened?"

"My cat. Martin didn't want to bring her, but I insisted, and then she howled for over an hour. She may be our roadblock. I don't move without her, and Martin really doesn't like cats."

"Yikes!"

"Yeah. Thing is, Miss Lizbeth, my cat, really likes Martin. I'm just hoping she acclimates to the flat quickly and that she can win him over."

"Good luck with that."

"Yeah." It quickly crossed Louisa's mind that she needed to think about what she would do if Martin absolutely couldn't manage with Lizzie in his home. Would she really reject him for a cat she loved dearly but who could happily live out her remaining five to ten years if she could find her a good home? Or would she always resent Martin for making her give up Lizzie. She hoped she wouldn't have to make that choice.

The baby started to fuss. Amy rummaged in the diaper bag and pulled out a bottle of breast milk. "Would you like to feed her?"

"I'd love to." Louisa loosened the straps on the baby carrier and lifted Gina up and into her arms. She took the bottle and started to feed her. Gina latched on to the bottle immediately and started to gulp down the milk. "Oh, I think she was hungry."

"That's definitely something she's good at." Amy tucked into her lunch. "It's so nice to be able to eat lunch without a baby propped on one arm. You'll see once you have one of your own."

"Mmm ..." Louisa cuddled the baby in her arms thinking how right it felt, unconcerned about the challenges that might accompany one of her own.


	70. Chapter 70

**Chapter 70**

Martin removed his suit jacket and hung it carefully on a hook in Holly's entry hall. Holly had decided to host a cookout in the courtyard of her building for some of the participants attending the seminar. It was a warm and beautiful Saturday afternoon, the first after the start of their coursework. Martin rolled up his shirt sleeves and joined Holly's latest friend, Reggie, near the french doors leading onto the terrace. He and Reggie were to carry three tables out to the garden and set them up so that Holly and Louisa could place all the serving pieces and food on them.

Reggie was a consultant specializing in international benefits for expatriates. He was the father of one of the students at her school, and they had met when his son's marks had started to drop precipitously. It was a typical case, parents recently divorced with Dad moving out and son feeling abandoned by his father with fears that the divorce was his fault, finding solace in video games and the internet, and neglecting his schoolwork. Holly had helped the family find a good counsellor and the son was improving. Reggie had dropped by one afternoon to thank Holly for her help; one thing led to another, and here he was. At least that was the story as told to Martin via Louisa.

"Ready old man?" Reggie asked Martin.

"Yep." Martin replied all the while thinking to himself, "_Where does Holly find these prats? At least he's not an ambulance chaser like Louisa's ex._"

As they were carrying the tables out the door and down the steps to the garden, Reggie tried to make small talk. "So Holly tells me you're a surgeon."

"Yes … vascular specialist."

"Life and death kind of thing I imagine. Very noble."

"Mmm ..." Martin tucked his chin into his neck, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. He had no desire to confirm or dispute the nobility of his profession. It was what it was.

Reggie prattled on, "Can't say my work involves life and death as such, but it does keep the wheels of commerce running, which keeps the economy off of life support."

"Ensuring wealthy executives get their fair share?" Martin shot back with distain.

"It's not like that at all. The laws and treaties between Great Britain and other countries can be extremely complicated. My work involves making sure that international companies are able to pay their employees located in different countries equitably while minimizing the tax burden to both the company and the employee."

"Mmm." Martin paused and looked up at Louisa working in Holly's kitchen and thought to himself that it would be best not to antagonize Holly's friend this early in the evening, no matter how self-important a tosser he might be, so he added, "Yes, very challenging. I imagine."

Encouraged, Reggie continued, going into lengthy detail with examples of his work in different situations around the globe. Martin nodded or grunted an occasional "mmm" to indicate his interest while his thoughts roamed, as they frequently did, to Louisa. The two of them had settled into a comfortable routine this first week once she finally had finished her unpacking. That first night had not been pleasant when he had arrived home to find many of her things still scattered about the spare room. Rather than the two of them preparing their meal in amiable togetherness as they usually did, he had insisted that she finish sorting her things whilst he prepared dinner. The way she set her chin and replied, "Yes Martin" was eerily like his dream Louisa's response when he had annoyed her, and from the way she was slamming drawers, he could tell that she wasn't happy with him.

They ate their meal in a tense silence until the end, when she insisted that they discuss their differing housekeeping standards. He felt placated,and not a little bit righteous, when she acknowledged his need for order, adding that she preferred things to be tidy as well. But ... she continued ... asserting that there would be times when tidying up had to take second place to other more pressing matters. She expected him to understand and tolerate graciously a certain amount of disorder at those times. In this case, preparation for her seminars took longer than she had expected leaving her little time to put things away. He nodded his head in acceptance and for the moment peace was restored. But he felt the need to think on this; perhaps there was another solution.

The rest of the week proceeded much more smoothly. Louisa's seminars started at half eight in the morning so she left the flat after he did and usually arrived home a few minutes earlier. They would prepare their evening meal and dine together, doing the washing up together afterwards. He had been in the habit of eating his supper in silence, but that changed with Louisa's arrival. She wanted their evening meal to be a time of sharing. For several months they had talked on the phone each night before retiring, and he was accustomed to preparing something from his day to relate, but now it was during supper face to face. He had enjoyed this type of companionship on her monthly visits, and now that she was here for an extended period, he was looking forward to spending every evening with her.

After they had tidied the kitchen, they would settle in the lounge, Louisa with her coursework, often with the cat on her lap, and Martin with his notes for the next day's procedures, or with an application for a research grant, or with work on his latest clock. So far the cat had made a minimal impact on his routine; he was cautiously optimistic.

Thursday night found them sitting on the couch drinking their usual night-time cup of tea when Louisa had brought up Holly's planned group get together for the weekend. He had his arm around her shoulders and she was snuggled up against him with the cat sprawled across their laps. He cringed to himself at the thought of Holly's "soiree", while Louisa burbled, "It's a chance for all of us to get to know each other socially, to talk about something other than school administration and the new course standards. Everyone is bringing their husband or wife or partner. It'll be fun and you'll get to put a face to all the names I've been talking about."

"Right." He replied unenthusiastically. He knew he was expected to join her and he was not looking forward to the event. The only person he would know other than Louisa was Holly, and it wasn't as if they were close acquaintances.

As he thought of the prospective evening, dreading the thought of trying to make small talk, he squirmed in his seat and Lizzie jumped down. Louisa noticed his discomfort and tried to soothe his concerns. "I know it will be uncomfortable for you; you won't know anyone there, but I won't abandon you."

"No, that's fine. How long do we have to stay?"

"I told Holly we would come over and help set up. That will give you something to do at first as people arrive so you don't have to stand around making small talk. Perhaps you could help with the cooking as well. Holly's planning on hamburgers and hot dogs with crisps."

"Oh God! Nothing healthy?"

"We're all going to bring a side dish. I was thinking of making a wild rice salad with lots of cut up vegetables. Would that be healthy enough for you?"

"Yes … but hamburgers and hot dogs? We need some lean protein. Perhaps I could bring some grilled chicken … maybe some marinated skewers like we had for supper last night."

"That would be nice, but I don't want you to have to go to a lot of work."

"Louisa, it's not that much work and it's much healthier than what Holly has planned. If others want hamburgers and hot dogs, they can still eat those, but at least I will have something nutritious."

So here he was, carrying out tables, setting up the dinnerware and now lighting the grill. He expected this type of party might become a regular feature of their life together along with his occasional mandatory hospital social events. Over the years he did find himself attending the odd wedding of a colleague or the christening of an old medical school mate's child, generally once or twice a year at most, otherwise, he was content with his own company. He found these social gatherings challenging and uncomfortable. Even the mingling that was generally expected as part of medical conferences where most of the conversation revolved around medical topics was stressful. Perhaps with Louisa as his partner these occasions would become more bearable; he hoped this evening would be enlightening.

Louisa watched Martin as he helped set up, noticing happily that he was engaged in conversation with Holly's most recent boyfriend, a well heeled London businessman. He seemed nice enough, but Holly had never had much luck with men, and she'd be surprised if this one ended up any better than all the others. Actually neither of them had had much luck with men, but Louisa now felt like she had won the jackpot with Martin, a diamond in the rough perhaps, but a diamond nonetheless. She gazed over at him in his shirtsleeves. It was a warm summer night, but he had insisted on wearing a suit, as he always did. She had suggested he wear his tan suit with a tan and light blue windowpane check dress shirt; with his jacket off and his sleeves rolled up, he gave off an aura of sexiness she found irresistible. His only real flaw was his discomfort in social situations. If he could hold up over the course of this evening, her major fears about his social abilities would ease. Yes, this evening would be enlightening.

Holly had drafted him to man the grill for the evening and Louisa wandered over to touch base while he was lighting it. "Hey there." She smiled up at him and noticed the immediate expression of relief cross his face as she greeted him. She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. "You're a trooper to do all the cooking."

"Mmm" he smiled down at her. "Everything else in order?"

"Yeah, I think so. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Yes, some water would be good."

She left him for a moment to pick up a bottle of water and a glass of white wine, and ran into one of her cohorts. "Elaine, good to see you. Isn't it nice of Holly to host this barbeque?"

Elaine was from Yorkshire and was staying with a cousin, "It's lovely, just brilliant." She turned towards a dark haired woman standing next to her, "Louisa, let me introduce you to my cousin, Selina. She's providing me with a couch to sleep on this summer, thank god. Otherwise, I couldn't afford to take this course."

Louisa nodded and smiled, happy to make a new friend, "Selina, it's nice to meet you. Help yourself to a drink." Lifting her glass she added, "I can vouch for the white wine." Turning again to Elaine, she agreed, "I know what you mean. I couldn't be here either if I didn't have Martin to put me up."

"Martin?"

"My partner. Holly has him manning the grill. Come on over and meet him."

As they headed over, Elaine asked, "You're from Cornwall, isn't that right?"

"Yes, I am." Louisa explained. "Martin and I have a long distance relationship. It's not ideal, so we will enjoy being together this summer."

Martin noticed Louisa bringing two women over to meet him and he frowned ever so slightly. As she handed Martin his water, she introduced the two women, telling him what little she knew about Elaine. "Selina, tell us a little about yourself."

"Not much to tell. I'm assistant head teacher at one of the local secondary schools down near Greenwich. Keeps me pretty busy even during the summer months, although I'm hoping to take a quick vacation to Ibiza in two weeks; that way Elaine can have a proper bed to sleep on for a week."

"Louisa replied, "Did Elaine tell you the rules for tonight's party? No discussing school. Sports, theatre, pets, all okay, but no school related topics. Got it?"

Selina laughed, "Message received and understood." She turned to Martin, "You look very familiar. Have we met before?"

"No."

"Martin is a surgeon." Louisa informed them.

"Vascular specialist." He interjected.

"Right." She continued, "Unless you spend a lot of time at …"

"That's it." Selina interrupted. "Now I remember. You were my Dad's surgeon last year and did a … what did they call it, an endo … endo"

"Endovascular repair? Did he have an abdominal aortic aneurysm?"

"Yes. Samuel McCloud. It was last February a year ago."

"Hmm. You were lucky they found it in time. Often there's no indication of any problem until it ruptures, which is usually fatal."

"I remember you came in before the surgery and told us what you would do and then afterwards let us know that all went well. We were so grateful. You were very kind."

"Just doing my job." Martin was always curious to know how a former patient had fared after the post-op consultation, but he rarely heard back unless there was a problem. "It's been well over a year. How is he doing?"

"Brilliant. You'd never know he was ill or even that he had surgery. There's no scar. It's just amazing."

"Yes. We thread the graft through an artery in the groin, just a small incision. Good to hear he is well."

"Yeah. He's become a new man ... scared him sh ... well, he's taken to exercising regularly and eating healthy ... amazing. All thanks to you."

Martin started to blush, "em ... well ... yes ... again just my job."

He picked up his tongs and turned the chicken skewers. "These appear to be done. Louisa is there a tray we can place them on?"

That was the cue for Elaine and Selina that the conversation was over and they made their excuses to move on to another group of guests gathered near a bank of summer blooming annuals. Louisa returned with a tray for the skewers and watched whilst Martin meticulously stacked them into a pyramid.

She knew he had a reputation as a fine surgeon, but he also had the reputation of being gruff and insensitive which she had assumed extended to the treatment of his patients and their families. He never discussed his patients or his interaction with them or their families so she had assumed he was brusque with them as well. To hear family members describe him as caring and sensitive made her heart melt; she knew that side of him, but so few others seemed to be aware of it. As she turned to take the skewers away, she leaned in against him brushing his bare arm with her free hand and whispered, "I love you Martin Ellingham."

Martin watched her walk away, holding the tongs frozen in the air, a puzzled expression on his face, wide-eyed in wonder, "_What did I do? What did I say?_"


	71. Chapter 71

**Chapter 71**

Martin was grilling the hamburgers and pondering the genesis of Louisa's sudden declaration of love. He adored her, but he struggled to say those words. It was only when he was desperate, just as in his dream, fearing that he might lose her that he was able to force them out, yet she could say those special words to him here in this casual social setting with all those other guests milling about. What was it that inspired her at that particular moment to impulsively tell him she loved him. He longed to be by her side, but he had agreed to do the grilling. He would occasionally look up from his duties just to catch a glimpse of her talking and laughing with several of the other guests. What any of these people had to talk about completely mystified him. And there was that young woman standing next to Louisa who kept staring at him; what was that all about? She tried to catch his eye, but he quickly returned his attention to the grill. She approached him nonetheless. "Hi ... Mr. Ellingham?"

Scowling he glowered at her, "Yes?"

She extended her hand. "Kirsten Elliot. I was just talking with your wife. She told me that you and she brought the chicken skewers and rice salad. I wanted to thank you. I'm so glad there is something healthy to eat. Usually at these barbeques, there's nothing but fatty hamburgers and hot dogs, crisps and beer."

"_My wife?_" For a moment Martin was confused. "Ah ... Louisa."

Kirsten took a deep breath and then gushed, "Yes. When she pointed you out to me, I had to come and introduce myself. I just finished my first year of surgery training, and I remember your introductory lecture on vascular surgery. It was fascinating. I'm so excited to meet you."

"Ah ... yes." He winced ever so slightly, not comfortable socializing with trainees or registrars. Actually he wasn't comfortable socializing with pretty much anyone.

"Surgery is fascinating, but I'm leaning toward specializing in Emergency Medicine when I finish my core rotations. Even so, I think a surgical background will be helpful in anything I pursue. Any words of advice?"

He glared at her for a moment, inwardly fulminating, "_Make up your mind woman. Surgery or emergency medicine._" He returned his attention to the grill, then replied, "Emergency Medicine. Very difficult specialty ... requires quick thinking and decision making. No room for error. Lots of burnout. Might make for a difficult family life if you are inclined that way."

"Still, I think it could be rewarding."

"Mmm ... Would you hand me that tray over there" Martin started to remove the hamburgers from the grill.

"Do you need any help?" Kirsten still couldn't believe her luck running into the prestigious Mr. Ellingham this way and she hoped to be able to pick his brain. "Anything else to grill?"

"Yes. Holly has some hot dogs up in the kitchen. You could cook those." Happy to relinquish the grilling duties, he pointed toward the kitchen doors as he placed the cooked burgers on the buffet table and made his way over to Louisa's side.

Kirsten found the hot dogs and carried them down to the grill looking for Martin. She stood there for a moment searching for him and then noticed him standing next to his wife with his arm placed discretely around her waist. She had found his wife to be very nice, which surprised her given his reputation for being the most miserable surgeon on staff. Louisa told her that she and Martin had brought the chicken skewers and the rice salad when she had mentioned how happy she was to see healthy food on offer. "I think you have my Martin to thank for that. He insisted we bring an alternative to hamburgers and hot dogs. When you live with a renowned vascular surgeon, you have to avoid fatty foods."

Kirsten raised her eyebrows and replied, "Vascular surgeon? Where?"

Louisa laughed and shrugged her shoulders, then pointed to the grill and clarified, "Well maybe not world-renowned, but I'm told he is a very good surgeon. Martin is over there grilling the burgers." She laughed some more, "He's probably fuming at all the fat, and he'll not be happy when I decide to have one myself." She beamed as she gazed over at him, "Got to love him though."

That's when Kirsten recognised him as Martin Ellingham, but now she was on her own, grilling the hot dogs. It didn't matter; it was worth it to meet him in the flesh and talk with him even for just a moment. She couldn't help but think how envious her cohorts would be when she told them about this encounter.

Martin was happy to leave the cooking to that girl and had joined Louisa who immediately slipped her arm under his and around his waist. He was generally uncomfortable with such public displays of affection and initially left his arm hanging near her side, but soon silently slipped it behind her back and rested his hand on her waist. "Why did you tell that girl that we were married?" he whispered to her.

"What girl? I didn't tell anyone we were married." She looked up at him curiously.

He nodded his head in the direction of the grill. "That girl, Kristy over by the grill."

"Oh, Kirsten. I guess I mentioned that we lived together and she must have assumed we were married."

"Why ever would you tell her we lived together? It couldn't possibly be any of her business."

Exasperated Louisa replied, "It just came up in conversation Martin. I wasn't announcing it to the entire party. I told her that we made the skewers and the rice salad."

"Ahh ..." He nodded and pursed his mouth. He guarded his privacy rigorously and wasn't happy that any hospital trainee should catch even a glimmer of his personal life.

"Let me introduce you to some of my friends."

"Yes."

Louisa introduced Martin as her partner to several of the guests that were standing nearby, Nigel and his girlfriend Gillian, and Marianne with her husband Nolan. Louisa was pleased when Martin offered his hand and a "Nice to meet you" to each of them.

Nolan then asked him "What do you do Martin?"

"Surgeon" was Martin's succinct reply.

"Must be interesting work, general or specialist?"

"Vascular specialist."

"Difficult, I imagine. Summer tourists, do they increase your workload? With emergencies and such?"

"Not really."

Martin wasn't really interested, but for Louisa's sake, he asked, "And you?"

"Accountant. I know, I know. It sounds boring, but we do have our exciting moments from time to time."

"Ahh ..."

Louisa picked up on Nolan's cue and asked, "What kind of excitement do accountants have Nolan?"

"Oh you might find the occasional embezzlement or some other irregularity on an audit. Other types of things exciting to us, but perhaps not of that much interest to others."

Louisa nodded her head and then turned to Nigel's girlfriend. "Gillian, what are your interests?" Louisa could see that delving into the more esoteric realms of accounting would not add excitement to the party.

"I'm a landscape architect. My firm specialises in courtyard design, both residential and commercial."

"Louisa's courtyard behind her cottage in Cornwall is very nice." Martin commented looking down at her and smiling.

"Really. What have you done with it?" Gillian was always interested in getting fresh ideas, for her work was also her passion and she drew inspiration from everywhere.

Louisa blushed, "I'm afraid Martin has exaggerated. It's just a walled garden with a stone patio. I have lots of bulbs and perennials. It is beautiful pretty much year round, but it's not anything special."

"Maybe not, but I'd love to see pictures sometime if you have any."

"I might have a few on my laptop. I'll get your e-mail address from Nigel and send them on if I can find them."

Soon Holly called them all to line up and serve themselves. Louisa was right when she told Kirsten that Martin would not approve of her eating a hamburger. As she put one on her plate, he frowned and turned up his nose in disapproval.

"I know you don't approve, but it's been ages since I had one and I just really fancy one tonight."

"Humph ... "

She passed over the crisps that she had been considering and took a green salad and some of her rice salad as well, and Martin nodded his approval. She thought to herself, "_He probably won't be too happy when he sees me take a chocolate biscuit or two for afters either. He and I will have to come to an understanding about this before we commit._"

The rest of the evening passed amiably. Martin was not particularly talkative, but neither was he rude or dismissive, and Louisa was pleased that they had passed an evening out together so pleasantly. Fortunately she had not offered to help Holly clean up and they were able to leave an hour or two after dinner was served when she could tell Martin was becoming restless. Martin himself would have preferred a quiet evening at home, but he found that with Louisa at his side, this party was bearable and not necessarily an agonizing way to pass the evening. And thank God Louisa didn't insist they stay and help do the washing up.

Later that night after they returned home, as they snuggled into bed together, Martin whispered, "Louisa? Ahh ... did you mean what you said this evening?"

She pressed up against him and started to nuzzle his neck. "What ... when I said what?"

"When you said ... uh ... when you took the grilled chicken from me ... you said ..." She continued trailing kisses up under his jaw working her way up to nibble on his ear, completely distracting his line of thought. "uh, never mind." His hands found their way to her back and he began to graze her skin with his fingertips. He relished the shivers of excitement he could sense rippling across her skin as he slowly worked his way down to the small of her back and further.

Despite the delicious sensations that his touch always elicited, she pushed herself up on her hands and looked into his face, "Okay, now you've got me curious. It must have been important for you to bring it up. What was it I said?"

His fingers had skimmed their way down to her hips and he had grasped her bum with one hand while pulling her closer. All interest in the evening's earlier events had been superseded by the urgency of their current activity. Breathlessly he uttered, "Not important."

She pulled against his firm embrace, "Martin?"

He let out a sigh, and realising that he wasn't likely to make much further progress without answering, he turned his head to the side and mumbled into his pillow, "You said that you love me."

"Mmm ... " She smiled at him, "Yes, yes I did." Turning his head back towards her and ruffling his hair with the fingers of one hand while balancing on her other hand, she planted a delicate kiss on his lips and declared softly, "I do love you, my sweet sensitive man."

He looked deep into her eyes, his expression soft and vulnerable. "Oh Louisa ... I ..." He reached up to caress her face, sweeping her hair to one side. How could he tell her, show her he felt the same? He traced the line of her jaw with his forefinger trailing it down the side of her neck till he rested his palm on her shoulder, gently caressing the back of her neck with his fingers. Searching her face for help he tried, "I ... I ... um". He wanted, no needed, to tell her how much he loved her too, but the words failed him. "_I love you too_." That was all he had to say, but it felt so trite and insincere, as if he were required to reply in kind. He gazed at her in adoration, agonizing at his reticence.

Her face was just inches away when she murmured, "I know".

That was all he needed to hear. She knew; she always knew how he felt; even when he couldn't say the words, she knew. This woman elicited emotions he had never imagined, emotions he never thought were possible, certainly not for him. He pulled her down to kiss her, tenderly ever so tenderly. Then, when the intensity of his need overwhelmed him, he pressed her down and proceeded to show her in deed what he couldn't express in words.


	72. Chapter 72

**Chapter 72**

When he awoke early the next morning, Martin reached for Louisa to embrace her. She was curled up in a ball a few inches away, and as he started to slide over to her, he noticed an unusual weight at the bottom of the bed blocking his movement. He nudged his feet over and in his half awake state, began the day with a silent rant,. "_What?!, What is that – I'm sure we didn't leave anything on the bed last night?"_ He opened his eyes and looked down, horrified to see Louisa's cat curled up at the bottom of the bed. "He shook the duvet with his feet to dislodge her and jumped up, bellowing, "Get off! Get out!" Lizzie flew off the bed and ran out the door, and he slammed it shut behind her.

Startled, Louisa sat straight up and looked wildly about, alert to some kind of danger. Seeing only Martin standing next to the bed with his hands balled at his sides, she cried, "Martin, what's wrong? What's happened?"

"Your cat! That's what's happened. She was in our bed! I told you she was never to sleep with us. It's unsanitary!"

Louisa flopped back down on the bed, threw her arm over her eyes, wriggled back under the covers, and sighed, "Oh ... Honestly Martin, it's not as bad as all that. We must have left the door ajar when we went to bed last night and she came in. I told you she is accustomed to sleeping with me at home. Send her out of the room and close the door and then come back to bed. It's too early to get up." She patted the bed invitingly.

"No. I'm already awake, and I have rounds. I'm going to shower and then go to hospital. We need to wash all the bedding when I return."

Louisa turned over and pulled the duvet up over her head. "Suit yourself. I'm going back to sleep."

Martin stood for a moment as Louisa settled back into the bed, then turned and headed in to shower closing the door firmly behind him, and grunting loudly in frustration at her indifference. He made no effort to muffle the sounds of his shower or shaving, causing Louisa to eye the door maliciously, thinking _"Why, why, why is he being so stubborn. Millions of people all over the world live in harmony with their pets. Why can't he?"_

Soon he came out of the bath and headed to his wardrobe to select his attire for the day. As he slid the hangers back and forth across the rod, Louisa realised that she wasn't going to get any sleep so she pulled herself out of the bed and trudged to the shower herself.

Finally truly awake, she headed to her wardrobe in the spare room and noticed that Martin had stripped the bed before he left for hospital. The faint sound of the washer reverberated through the flat. _"Not an auspicious start to the day. Hope I can soothe things over before we have to head to Amy and Thomas' for brunch."_

Once she was dressed and ready to face the day, she wandered into the kitchen, put out Lizzie's breakfast and then put the kettle on. Whilst the water was heating she prepared some fruit for their breakfast, cutting the melon they had bought the day before into bite-sized pieces and then adding some strawberries and blueberries as well. She set the table with tea cups and utensils, placed the fruit bowls at each place and then headed to the front door to pick up the Sunday paper opening the door just as Martin was turning his key in the lock. They both startled and jumped as the door opened unexpectedly and they were suddenly face to face.

Louisa was the first to speak, "That was quick."

"Mmm... " Martin replied. "All was in hand."

"Good." She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss, "Good morning."

"Mmm ..." He gave her a perfunctory kiss in return and then stated bluntly, "I put the bedclothes on to wash before I left. We should put them on to dry so we can make up the bed."

Shifting her eyes away from him, she answered, "Yes, I noticed. Why don't you do that whilst I pour the tea? Or would you prefer some espresso?"

As he was setting the machine to the dryer cycle, he groused, "I told you bringing your cat wasn't a good idea. We can't be washing the bedclothes every day."

"We haven't had to wash them every day. Last night was the first time she was on our bed." She had been dreading this conversation since they woke this morning and responded to his comment in a frustrated tone.

He stood up straight and looked sternly at her. "Even so, we can't risk having it contaminate our bed."

She sighed loudly and stared back at him both exasperated and dejected, "Honestly Martin, Lizzie keeps herself extremely clean. She isn't going to contaminate our bed. She is a lovely cat."

"Hmmph" He was having none of it.

They seemed to be at a standstill and Louisa realised that neither one of them was going to win this argument. His mind was closed. Animals were dirty and he wasn't going to be convinced otherwise. She was going to have to try another approach, an approach which might not win the war but would probably result in a cease-fire. She walked over, wrapped her arms around his waist, and looked up at him with a serious, yet compassionate expression. "I do understand your concerns even if I don't think they are valid, but do we really want to have a row over this. I think we'll just have to be more careful in future. Make sure we close the bedroom door." She cocked her head to one side, "Yeah?" and gave him a pleading look.

He noticed the cat sitting in the doorway looking at him quizzically. She lifted her paw and began to groom herself. "_Oh God_" he thought shaking his head and rolling his eyes. He returned his attention back to Louisa who was looking up at him in that gentle trusting way she had. He raised his eyebrows in scepticism and grunted, suspecting that he was being manipulated; nonetheless he wrapped his arms around her back and replied reluctantly, "Yes. I suppose we had."

She gave him another good morning hug, holding him snugly with her head resting on his chest, "Thank you."

The issue of the cat settled for the moment, he released her and reached over for the kettle, "Shall I pour the tea?"

"Yes, I'll get the cups."

"How would you like your eggs this morning?"

"Don't forget we are having brunch with the Woodvines at noon."

Martin sighed, "Oh God. I don't suppose we could cancel." After this morning's turmoil he really wasn't up to making nice, even with Amy and Thomas, a couple with whom he had found common interests.

She gazed at him sympathetically, knowing how difficult all this socialising was for him. "No. That would be rude. I know this weekend has been a bit much. I accepted Amy's invitation before Holly decided to have her open house. I thought about telling Amy we couldn't make it until next weekend, but we have that big hospital thing we have to attend Saturday night and I thought that might be even more exhausting so I didn't. But don't worry, we don't have anything in our diaries for the last two weekends I'm here; we can just relax."

Martin let go another big sigh, "Good ... but we still have to eat breakfast, so how do you want your eggs?"

"Why don't you decide...hmmm? I'll fix some toast and pour some juice."

They settled into their chairs and started on breakfast, each with a section of the morning paper. As they were finishing up, Martin put his fork down, "Louisa, I've been wanting to ask you ... "

She looked up from the editorial in which she had been engrossed and replied, "Yes?"

"Why did you name your cat after that character in that book?"

"Lizzie? Elizabeth Bennett? Pride and Prejudice? Yes, it's one of the greatest books in all of English literature."

"I can't for the life of me understand why."

"Have you read the book?'

"The first several chapters, yes. But Louisa ... those women, Elizabeth, her mother and her sisters, they're obsessed with finding a wealthy man to marry. I found it very offensive."

Louisa was shocked at his description of her favourite book, but she couldn't help quoting the first line, "Well ... yes, 'It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.' One of the most famous opening lines of any book in English literature. I think you misunderstand the entire story. You need to finish the book."

Louisa hugged herself and beamed as she thought about her favourite novel and the obstacles Elizabeth and Darcy had to overcome before they found happiness together. "It's a classic love story Martin, two people overcoming the obstacles of class and the confines of their social milieu to find happiness with each other."

She continued, ignoring the scowl creeping across his face. "It's true that Mrs. Bennett is anxious to marry her daughters advantageously. She may seem to be a very silly woman, and truth be told, she is, but she is also being practical. If her husband were to die, they would be without any income at all because the estate was entailed on her husband's nearest male relative. Her daughters would have to find work as governesses or ladies maids. Not many options for genteel women in those days."

Martin was having none of it," I still don't see the appeal of the character. Why would you find her so attractive?"

"Elizabeth is extremely intelligent, very quick and witty, with a keen eye for the foibles of her mother and sisters and neighbours. On top of that she is quite pretty. Any woman would love to be like Elizabeth."

"Hmmph"

"And when she first meets Mr. Darcy, she immediately finds him disagreeable because he freely criticizes everyone in her village ... and herself as well."

"That I can understand. None of those people were admirable, nothing but gossips and busybodies."

"That may be true, but they were her friends and he insulted all of them and snubbed her in particular. She found his pride and arrogance intolerable. Eventually _he_ finds himself enchanted by her and proposes marriage, but _she_ turns down the _very _wealthy Mr. Darcy because she could not bear to spend her life with such a difficult man no matter how comfortable that life could be. If all she wanted was a rich husband, she wouldn't have rejected his proposal. You need to read the whole novel."

Martin just rolled his eyes.

Louisa continued with a twinkle in her eye. "Eventually she discovers that despite his initial rude behaviour and his pride, he is actually a kind and generous man. In fact, he reminds me of someone in this room." She smirked and looked directly at him.

"What do you mean?"

"In some ways you are a lot like Mr. Darcy, outwardly gruff, arrogant and rude, but underneath a kind and caring man."

"Except I'm not wealthy."

"You're not?" Louisa feigned shock at his declaration.

"No, and if that is what you are looking for in a man, then you should look elsewhere." Martin replied in an accusatory tone. Ever since she had expressed reluctance to accept his gift of the necklace claiming it was the kind of gift a wealthy man would give his mistress, the thought that she might want him for his money had been hovering in the back of his mind.

As she took in his expression, she realised he was earnest. The conversation had left the realm of light banter and had gone dead serious.

"I don't think I ever thought about it."

"You once called me a wealthy man."

"I did not!"

"Yes you did!"

"When did I do that?" She hadn't ever thought he was rich so she couldn't imagine she had said anything of the sort.

"When I bought you that necklace for the hospital fundraiser."

"Oh." She had forgotten that conversation.

He was sitting across from her, his hands clenched resting on the table edge. It occurred to her that she must make him understand that his financial status really had nothing to do with her feelings for him. "Honestly I had never really thought about it before then."

She paused as he stared at her intently, his eyes expectant.

She lowered her eyes and continued, "Well that's not entirely true. I find your expertise, your skill and dedication as a surgeon and your stature in your profession extremely attractive. I told you that before ... and I assume that you are paid commensurate with your knowledge and skills. Even so, I thought that necklace was extravagant, but you didn't seem at all fazed by its cost. It did make me wonder at the time, although I haven't thought about it since then."

She pulled herself up straight in her chair and then added emphatically, "In any event, I am perfectly capable of supporting myself and have done my entire adult life; I do not need to find a rich husband."

"Good." Martin stood to start the washing up, but Louisa grabbed his wrist. "Wait, are you telling me that you thought I was attracted to you because I saw you as a rich man, a convenient meal ticket?"

"It was a possibility."

"How could you even think that?"

"I hadn't until after that conversation, and I felt it only fair that you know I am not wealthy."

"Good. Now sit down. We don't have to leave for Amy and Tommy's for another two hours. Let's do the crossword."

He sat back down and she grinned at him as she leaned over the table and took his head between her hands. "It's the wealth that sits inside that big head of yours that really turns me on. Now let me see, what's our first clue?"

"Hmm...What's a four letter word for 'concert halls'?"

Martin got up, picking up the dishes to take them into the kitchen. He paused for a moment and then uttered, "odea".

"What?"

"Odea ... ... Greek in origin ... plural of odeum, a theatre or concert hall.

"Really? Well let's see if it works with the other clues. Hmm .. October birthstones, five letters. I know that. It's ... it's opals. Yes that works with odea. I guess you are right."

"Of course I am." He stepped into the kitchen. "Would you like some more tea?"

"Yes, please. The next clue is 'powerful shark', four letters."

"Mako." He brought the kettle over and filled her cup.

"Yes. That works." She filled in the crossword, then looked up at him. "So this whole conversation wasn't really about Lizzie's name then, was it?"

"Not entirely, although I still don't see the appeal of the character."

"Okay next night we both have free, we are going to start watching the televised version that came out about ten years ago – it follows the novel extremely well. That will be so much fun!"

"Can't wait" Sarcasm dripped from his voice. "What's the next clue?"

**Author's note: I must thank my friend Chapin for giving me the inspiration to add this chapter. It was so much fun to write.**


	73. Chapter 73

**Chapter 73**

Louisa paused briefly in the doorway as she left Martin's office, casually brushing her hand against his suit coat as she smiled up at him. He returned her gaze, his expression tender and vulnerable, an expression that remained unchanged as his eyes followed her figure moving down the corridor leading out of the consulting office suite. Miss Newcross was heading to his office with some paperwork needing his signature when she caught sight of the two of them, "_That man is in love, no doubt about it._" She paused for a brief moment smiling to herself as she enjoyed the aura of happiness that seemed to surround the two of them, but it was all over the moment he caught her staring at them; his expression returned abruptly to its normal frown and he turned back into his office.

She sighed as she thought about how closed off her boss could be. How did Ms. Glasson, who was one of the nicest people she had ever encountered, manage to breech his emotional reserve? As they met up in the hallway, she greeted her, chirping cheerfully, "Nice to see you today Ms. Glasson. Did you and Mr. Ellingham have a pleasant lunch?"

"Yes we did. Thank you Morwenna." Louisa was delighted to see her before she left for her afternoon coursework. She found Miss Newcross to be a perfect assistant for Martin. She was congenial and courteous to all his patients, making up for his sometimes gruff manner and, according to Martin, she was a model of efficiency, able to work the NHS system so his patients were always properly cared for. Louisa had met her a few times earlier in the year and always enjoyed their brief encounters. She had a few minutes to spare and hoped to engage her with some casual conversation. "Unfortunately it was cut short. Mr. Watson interrupted with a case he wanted to review with Martin. In fact, I believe he may be headed to theatre as we speak." She nodded her head in the direction of Martin's office just as he was leaving.

"Oh ... no, no, no. I've got discharge papers he needs to sign – must be off. See ya!" Morwenna ran down the hallway, waving papers in her hand, chasing Martin as he strode in the opposite direction.

As she headed back to her desk to process the papers he had quickly scanned and then signed, she thought over how much had changed since he had first agreed to employ her on a temporary basis well over a year ago. Back then he would peruse each line of paperwork to ensure it was completed exactly to his specifications. Now he signed the forms after giving them a quick look. He obviously had a lot of confidence in her abilities, and she thought, not for the first time in the past several months, that it was time to ask for a pay rise. She knew that Ms. Glasson was spending the summer with him, and although he wasn't noticeably more agreeable than usual, he might be more amenable to granting her a pay rise now than he would be after she went back to Cornwall. Nothing ventured, nothing gained she thought to herself.

Martin quickly scanned the forms Ms. Newcross had prepared and signed them. He noted how they were in perfect order, as if he had prepared them himself; and he thought, not for the first time, how efficient she was and how his work would be so much more difficult if she were not there to assist him in the more tedious aspects of the job. He was also confident that she would rearrange his afternoon consultations appropriately so that he could attend the emergency confident that all would be handled with minimal disruptions. Perhaps he should think about giving her a pay rise; after all she had been with him for nearly eighteen months. He should check with the HR department and see what the procedure was.

Simon had interrupted his quiet lunch with Louisa to consult with him on a trauma victim with a potential acute limb ischaemia. As he headed to theatre, he mentally went through the evaluation checklist. Simon had briefed him on the injury and based on that information he formulated a preliminary surgical protocol, and once he was satisfied with his plan of action, he returned his thoughts to Louisa, how nice it was to have her visit him in the middle of the day, and how understanding she was when the visit was short-lived because of the demands of his work. Overall, the summer was going well despite the problem with her cat and the weekend socialising, although he had to admit that even that wasn't the ordeal he had anticipated. Holly's party was tolerable and he had actually enjoyed their visit with the Woodvines.

It had been a pleasant Sunday morning once the cat debacle had resolved itself. Martin had been able to spend a good hour working on his clock after they had finished the crossword and the washing up. Louisa had dithered about the flat trying to decide whether to wear one of the new dresses she had picked up on a brief shopping trip the day before or to wear jeans. When asked his opinion, Martin absently grunted that either was fine, that she should wear whatever she liked. He was absorbed in his clock and it briefly crossed his mind how lucky he was that men's sartorial options were few, at least as far as he was concerned. Louisa had tried to talk him into wearing his chinos and skipping a jacket both the previous night and that morning. Perhaps at the farm or on the coastal path, those clothes were more appropriate than his usual attire, but certainly not in town, and he had no intention of dropping his standards for casual socializing.

They were due at the Woodvine's at half 11 and, despite frequently reminding her of the time, they still didn't make it out of the flat until 11:20 so they were a good fifteen minutes late. They were sitting side by side in the taxi and Martin was fidgeting, "I hate being late. It's impolite."

"Martin, I know we're late. And I agree that sometimes it's impolite, but new parents might not be quite ready for guests at the appointed time. They'll appreciate the extra time to finalize their preparations. It'll be fine. I'll call and let them know we're on our way and that we'll be a bit late. Just sit back and relax."

"Humph!"

It turned out that Louisa was right and Amy was just setting the table when they arrived. Thomas was in the nursery changing Gina's nappy, and they could hear him talking with her as he tidied up what must have been quite a mess. He soon appeared with an immaculately clean infant and Louisa made a bee-line in his direction and started to fuss over the baby.

Thomas passed the baby to Louisa and approached Martin, offering him his hand, indicating that he should follow him to his home office. "So good to see you Martin. I've some new research results I think you will find interesting."

Amy quickly interrupted him. "Thomas ... maybe our guests would like something to drink before you and Martin scurry off to swoon over the latest in mycological research."

"Yes, yes. Amy's right. Forgot my manners." Thomas turned back toward the kitchen. "What's your poison? We've got beer, cider and white wine."

"I'd love some wine, and Martin would be happy with water." Louisa piped up walking over to Amy with Gina tucked securely into the crook of her arm. "I do believe this little girl has grown in just this past week."

As Thomas was pulling the glasses down from the cupboard, Martin spoke up, "Actually, Thomas, I think I'd like some cider."

Louisa looked at him obliquely, raising her eyebrows in surprise. He held her glance for a moment tilting an eyebrow in return, as he accepted the drink and then followed Thomas to his desk in an alcove off the lounge. As it happened, Thomas' research was getting extremely interesting results, making the entire afternoon very rewarding.

Remembering the day, Martin let a short smile cross his face as he turned the corner leading to the changing rooms. There he met the assisting surgeon who briefed him on the patient's status. He glanced into theatre and assured himself that everything was in hand, and then headed to the changing room.

As he was changing into his scrubs for the emergency procedure, he contemplated his motivation for requesting the cider. It certainly wasn't something he would ordinarily drink. Perhaps he had felt relaxed and was looking forward to hearing what Thomas had to share, or, if he were honest with himself, perhaps he was feeling contrary, residual animosity from their argument over the cat feeding an annoyance with Louisa for assuming his preference for water. Whatever the reason, he had to admit he enjoyed the cider; it was refreshing and fairly low in alcohol content.

Brunch was very satisfying as well, a generally healthy meal. As he had expected, the baby was the centre of attention once the meal began with the conversation covering the usual childhood topics of feeding, sleeping and elimination. He would have thought the two women would have exhausted these topics, but even Thomas had stories to tell of two am feedings and 'projectile pooh'.

He hoped that when the time came he would not be so absorbed in the minutia of his own children's elimination habits to the exclusion of all other subjects, and he expressed his thoughts to Louisa once they arrived home. "It wasn't as bad as all that was it? I found it quite fascinating. It makes you wonder how anyone does it. I mean hardly any sleep for the first few months?" She beamed, "Gina is just beautiful though, isn't she?"

"Mmm ..." She looked just as most babies do at that age he thought.

He went to scrub and the assisting surgeon joined him. All thought of the previous weekend dissipated as they began to discuss the optimal approach for the upcoming procedure.

As Louisa exited the hospital and headed to the tube station, she was also thinking about how well things were going, especially their social encounters this past weekend. She had enjoyed both Holly's party and the the visit with Amy and Tommy tremendously. The fact that Martin and Tommy got along so well buoyed her spirits. While they were visiting, she was able to play with the baby and chat with Amy while the men were absorbed in whatever it was that Thomas was working on at the moment. She observed the two men hunkered over the laptop and commented, "It's so nice that Martin and Thomas get along. I have to confess that I feared we might not find many couples in London with whom we could have anything in common."

Amy laughed. "No worries there. I can't tell you how excited Thomas was that you two were coming over today. He couldn't wait to show Martin what he was working on. It's very complex and I really don't have the background to understand his work. I'm glad for his success, but ... can you keep a secret? I think it couldn't be more boring, so I'm glad he's found a friend outside the lab with whom to share it."

Amy had prepared a tray of eggs Benedict atop a base of kale and tomato, with bacon on the side, a hearty salad along with some delicious whole meal rolls and a peach blueberry cobbler for afters. As she and Louisa chatted, she put the rolls and salad in the centre of the table. She pulled the eggs from the cooker where they had been keeping warm and portioned them onto individual plates adding a garnish of sliced strawberries and kiwi fruit. "So how are things going?"

Louisa bounced Gina in her arms, "Pretty good. We went to a cookout with some of my cohorts yesterday evening and we both enjoyed it ... at least I did and I think Martin did. He didn't grouse about it and he's never reluctant to express his feelings when he's annoyed." She tickled Gina under her chin causing the baby to chuckle. "I just love it when babies laugh, don't you?" She looked over at Amy and screwed up her mouth, "We had a bit of a row this morning though ... over my cat."

"Uh oh. What happened?"

"Martin's one provision was that she never sleep with us, and somehow she got into the bedroom last night and was curled up on our bed when we woke up. Martin was furious. I think I've defused the situation for the moment, but he insisted we wash all the bedding."

"Do you think you can keep it from happening again?"

"Probably not. I'll make sure the bedroom door is secure before we go to sleep, but she could still slip in if one of us gets up in the middle of the night and forgets to close it securely. And sometimes Martin comes in late if he has an emergency. We'll just have to see how it goes."

"Maybe you could cover the duvet with a spare sheet so you wouldn't have to wash everything if she did slip in."

"I suppose we could do that." She thought for a moment, "But that may not work either. We really didn't need to wash everything anyway. She was only on the duvet cover. But he was insistent. I'll have to think on it."

Amy stood up and turned her attention to Martin and Thomas, clapping her hands, "Time to eat you two."

"Be right there." Thomas replied absently and then turned his attention back to the screen and pulled up another image. Martin grunted in acknowledgement and then leaned in to examine the chart Thomas had just pulled up.

"Well, we'll give them another moment. How is your course going so far?"

"Pretty well. It looks like it will be extremely productive, bucketfuls of good information. And it's good to meet lots of other educators from around the country and here in London. I'll need all the help I can get to find a job if I decide to move to London."

"So ... a move to London is it? Are you sure? It's only been a week."

Louisa looked down then smiled up at her friend, "Probably too soon to know for sure, but I'm extremely hopeful."

"Even with your cat?"

"Yeah. I think so ... even with Miss Lizzie."

Amy glanced over to the men. "Should I go over and drag them to the table?"

"I think that may be necessary. Here you put Gina in her seat and I'll go get them." Louisa sashayed over to Thomas' alcove work station and put her hands on her hips. "Okay boys. It's time to put the toys away and come eat. We're hungry."

Thomas held up a finger. "Okay ... just one more thing."

"No ... it's time to eat now."

"Louisa, we were just in the middle of something quite important." Martin huffed.

"I'm sure it can wait." She ruffled his hair. "C'mon."

"Very well. " He rose and the two of them joined the ladies at the table. Gina was buckled into a carrier seat at the head of the table, next to Amy. She indicated to Martin that he should sit across from her next to Louisa. Conversation was lively with Louisa and Thomas reminiscing about their university days and catching up on news of some of their friends. Louisa enjoyed describing Holly's latest gentleman friend. "Pompous pratt" Martin was quick to add. On the rare occasion that the conversation lagged, Martin ventured to ask Thomas a technical question about his research and was immediately hushed by either Amy or Louisa.

Conversation frequently strayed to the joys and trials of being new parents. At one point Louisa asked Amy about her return to work at the beginning of September.

Amy replied, "I'm going back part-time at first, just twenty hours a week until after the holidays."

"Who will be caring for Gina?"

"My mother is coming down through the end of December to watch her. We've found her a bed-sit a few blocks over so she will have her own place in the evenings and weekends."

"I would think you would want to care for her yourself for the first year or two," Martin intoned.

Amy laughed, "Not really an option, is it?"

Louisa tapped Martin discretely on his thigh and gave him "the look" when he turned her way. He had planned to engage the conversation further explaining why he felt it so important that a mother be the one caring for her child, but responded instead with only a "Hmmm ..." and a raised eyebrow.

Amy understood his look completely, "Even if we could afford for me to stay home with her, I would miss the stimulation of my work; it's very rewarding ... which is a good thing because it's really not an option."

"So you will go back to full time work in January. What will you do with Gina then?" Louisa was curious about childcare options in London.

"I've reserved a place for her at a local day nursery. I've heard only good things about it. She should be crawling by then, and I think the interaction with the other children will be good for her."

"I've heard it's difficult to find good day care. How did you decide on a day nursery and not a child-minder or a nanny-share?"

Martin remained quiet, finishing his meal, while the two women discussed the pros and cons of each type of care. He raised his eyes across the table to Thomas who nodded his head toward his work station. The two of them quietly rose from the table and returned to their conversation which had been interrupted for the meal.

There were two aspects to the afternoon's visit that had stirred Louisa's interest and she tried to engage Martin on both of them, first asking him how he enjoyed the cider. "I thought you never drank alcohol ... except that one time you had some whiskey with Chris."

He looked at her with a hint of guilt on his face. "Yes, I rarely indulge, but upon occasion and in moderation, I sometimes do. Today ... cider just sounded good. I only had one glass and the alcohol content was low." His tone was defensive.

"That's fine. I just wondered."

Later that evening as they were having their evening cup of tea, she broached the more important topic. "Martin ... I think we should discuss childcare."

"What? Childcare?" He stiffened with the thought that she might be pregnant and with just a tinge of panic in his voice, he asked, "Why?" Oral contraceptives were exceedingly effective, but failures were not unknown. He had been remiss in not tracking her cycle.

She noticed the change in his comportment and thought it might have to do with his position on mothers staying home. "It's just what you said to Amy this afternoon, that you thought she should stay home and care for Gina for the next two years."

He relaxed slightly, "Oh that."

Now she was curious, "What did you think I meant?"

He ignored her question; he had no intention of telling her his sudden fear of an unplanned pregnancy before they were married. "I wasn't sure, but yes, you know that I feel it's important for a child's mother to care for him or her for the first few years of its life. We have discussed this before."

"Yes we have and I thought, or I had hoped, that you were able to see that it isn't always possible."

"I do understand that, and I understand that Amy and Thomas do not have the means for her to stop working. It is unfortunate."

Louisa knew it was time for them to discuss this very important topic before they made a commitment and actually had children, but it was going to be hard. Nonetheless, she started the conversation, in a quiet and serious tone. "Martin, when you asked me to marry you this spring ... If I had said yes and we had a child, would you expect me to stay home and care for our child?"

He nodded his head slightly, "I would prefer that you did."

"Would you insist even if I wanted to continue my career?"

He would never force her to do something she didn't want to do, but he still felt it important for a child's development to have its mother close at hand. "I would prefer that you were our child's primary caregiver. Obviously I would help care for the child when at home ... evenings, weekends, and in the middle of the night."

"You didn't answer my question."

He didn't want to answer the question. Too much hung in the balance if this conversation were to go wrong. He sat stiffly, knees together, hands on his thighs, his head raised with his eyes closed, and he breathed in deeply. He was terrified that he would destroy everything they had built so far.

"Martin?" Her voice was barely a whisper. She too knew this conversation was difficult, but they needed to see it through to its completion.

Finally he exhaled loudly and answered testily, "No. I wouldn't insist." He turned to look at her with incomprehension in his eyes. "But wouldn't you want to care for our child yourself?"

That was a question she wasn't prepared to answer because she really didn't know the answer. "I don't know, and I don't think I will know until the time comes."

"I don't understand." How could she not know what she would want to do?

"I will try to explain. I have known women who just knew they would never quit a job they loved to stay home with their children, and then discovered that they enjoyed domestic life so much they left their careers. I have also know women who planned to become stay at home mothers and then felt suffocated at home alone with an infant all day and went back to work before the first year was out. All I can say right now is that I love my work and would miss the challenges and stimulation that it brings to my life if I had to leave it."

"Mmmm ..." Martin nodded his head in partial understanding. He knew what he had to say. He might not want to say it, but he knew it was the right thing to do. "I see. Very well, I will accept whatever you decide regarding your career and the care of our children, but if you were to continue working, I would insist that we have competent, caring and reliable childcare and that we both have a say in selecting the caregiver."

Louisa took his hand and smiled, "Of course."

They sat facing each other on the sofa, looking into each other's eyes, grateful that they had managed this conversation so successfully. "Martin," Louisa whispered.

"Yes?"

She slid over to his side and kissed him tenderly on the lips, "Thank you."

He put his arm around her shoulder, "You're welcome."

"And ... I can't promise anything, but I do understand how important it is to you that a mother stay home while the baby is little, so I will give it a try and see how it works out ... for a little while anyway ... assuming of course that we decide to make a go of it."

Surprised at her acquiescence, he whispered into her hair, "Good."

They sat together hand in hand, heads resting together until the clocks in the flat began to chime the hour, signalling time to prepare for bed.


	74. Chapter 74

**Chapter 74**

The following Saturday evening, as Louisa and Martin exited the lift into the lobby of Martin's building, Penhale leaned back and took a long look at Louisa. With a grin on his face, he let loose a wolf whistle and exclaimed, "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes? Must have a special evening planned."

"Thank you Joe" Louisa replied with a faint smile, tugging her wrap a little more snugly around her shoulders. Martin growled, "Not appropriate Penhale."

"You're looking quite dapper as well Mr. Ellingham," he remarked to Martin as he opened the door to escort them to their waiting taxi. "Have a nice evening."

Louisa nodded her thanks to Joe and, as Martin helped Louisa into the taxi, he complained, "Why does that man always think he must comment on your appearance? It's not professional."

"He's just trying to be nice Martin. Why can't you accept that and just let it go?"

"Humph." Martin grunted.

"And he's right you know." She grinned over at him. "You are even more handsome and elegant this evening than usual." She hugged his arm and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

He had to admit that Penhale was right; Louisa was lovely. She exuded the air of a goddess, clothed in a cream coloured, gossamer silk gown covered with a soft pink and rose floral print. With one lovely shoulder bare the empire waist gown accentuated her curves and the flowing skirt swirled and shimmered as she walked. Martin knew that heads would turn when he escorted her into the summer hospital ball, an annual event designed to promote collegiality and which he had attended only once before, a fiasco he'd rather not remember. When he first saw her, Martin commented in the shy way that he often had that she looked nice, which told Louisa that the summery gown she had selected for this evening's affair was perfect; she wanted him to be proud to have her on his arm.

Martin was right. After they posed for the photos that Louisa insisted they take, with Louisa reminding him to smile, several of his colleagues approached him with their spouses or partners. One or two had met Louisa at the fund-raising event in the spring, but there were others who had heard their gruff associate was dating a pretty young woman, but had not yet met her. Martin discovered that his only obligation was to introduce Louisa to others and that she would pick up on the social niceties after that. He only had to nod and grunt the occasional "Yes" or "Good" to keep up his part of the conversation.

Soon it was time to dine and they joined several other members of the cardiology and vascular staff at a table for eight. Although hospital staff members were encouraged to discuss topics other than medicine at this annual gala, the conversation frequently drifted to new protocols, complaints about new NHS administrative rules, or ways to make theatre proceedings more efficient, including evaluations of current nursing staff.

Louisa found the conversation with the surgeons' spouses encouraging. There was a good variety among the partners even at her table: one stay at home mother; one medical doctor, a GP with a challenging practice in a local community clinic; and one vivacious society matron who encouraged her to join the hospital Friends of the Trust. The older woman entertained them all with witty stories about working in the tea bar and at the Friends' shop and at the annual Christmas Bazaar. Louisa politely replied that she'd certainly think about it if she were to move to London.

Just before the dessert was served, she found herself taking a break with the young mother who was anxious to tell her all the hospital gossip most of which involved the infidelities of the surgical staff, who was sleeping with whom, which surgeon was keeping a mistress right under the nose of his oblivious wife, the size of the most recent divorce settlement, etc.

"Are all of the surgeons as randy as you imply?" Louisa queried.

"Well a lot of them are. I think it's a way to defuse all the stress they're under. Of course my Sammy would never think of cheating on me. I keep him quite satisfied at home. And, I don't think you have to worry about Martin. You're the first woman he's ever brought to any of the staff parties. In fact, I've never heard mention of him taking up with anyone in all the years Sammy's been on staff. Hospital lore always paints him as a medical monk, married to the job. I guess they had that wrong, didn't they?" she laughed as Louisa smiled back, wondering how her monk had become so skilled in the bedroom. In her heart she knew he would always be faithful and she had promised she would always trust him, but there was always that little nagging doubt, especially when she heard these kinds of stories.

She slipped her hand into Martin's when she returned to their table. He was engaged in conversation regarding some medical procedure about which she had no understanding, but stopped to greet her with a quiet smile, "Hello." The dance music had started and she whispered in his ear, "Will you dance with me, Martin?"

He glanced toward the others at the table and said, "Will you excuse us?" And standing, he took her hand and led her to the dance floor. "I am always available to dance with you", he murmured, looking deep into her eyes as he guided her across the floor. She gave him one of her brilliant smiles and he held her slightly closer.

"How are you doing tonight?" It seemed to her that he was enjoying the evening, but she knew he didn't care for this kind of event, calling it a waste of money, even though it was funded completely by the professional staff attending.

"Fine. How do you mean?"

"I know you don't usually care for this sort of thing."

"No, it's fine. And you?"

"I am having a lovely time, and now that I am dancing with you, I'm even happier."

"Good." He had considered suggesting they leave soon, but decided against it since she was enjoying herself. In the past, he would never have considered dancing at one of these hospital functions; but with Louisa who loved to dance, he knew he must drop his reserve to ensure that she enjoyed herself. The dance was a slow waltz of the type to which they frequently danced at home and there were a number of other couples on the dance floor, and he found that he enjoyed leading her around the floor. She stretched up to whisper in his ear, "Spin on the count of three?"

"Mmm ..." His face clouded with uncertainty as he glanced around the floor, and assuring himself that no one was looking at them in particular, he agreed, "Yes." She grinned, delighted that he would execute this manoeuvre with his colleagues nearby. "One, two, and three" He released her and held up his arm for her to dance under pulling her back to him effortlessly. "Again?" "Yes."

She danced back into his arms again, face aglow with the slight exertion and he smiled inwardly in satisfaction that he had made her happy. Soon the music changed to a much faster tempo, and she looked at him expectantly. They danced to this type of music at home, but Martin was not comfortable with it here, and he shook his head. "That's okay. I enjoyed our dance just now as it was." She gave him a slight hug as they departed the dance floor and went to their seats at table.

One of the junior surgeons, Mark Turney, made his way over to their table and complemented them on their dance skills. "Ellingham, mind if I take Louisa out for a spin?"

Louisa was smiling indicating she would enjoy another dance so Martin nodded his acquiescence while muttering under his breath, "She's not a car."

Mark had been dared by some of his fellows to dance with Louisa and find out more about her. "Are you enjoying our little get-together?"

"Yes, I am. Everyone is so nice."

"So, how long have you known Mr. Ellingham?"

"Almost a year now. We met last summer at hospital."

"But you're not from London, are you. Do I detect a west country accent?"

"Perhaps, I'm Cornish." Louisa was beginning to realise that Mark was on a fact finding mission, so she tried to change the subject. "And you, did you grow up here in London?"

"Yep. Wimbledon except for the obligatory public school education. Best city in the world. How long have you lived here?"

That didn't work out quite as she had planned. "A little while." She felt that was ambiguous enough to be accurate. "Have you ever had a chance to visit other parts of the country?"

"Hmmm. Been up to the lake country once or twice for a hiking vacation, and two trips up to Scotland. It's hard to get away; the work is all consuming. I'm sure you have noticed. Mr. Ellingham, brilliant that he is, works harder than anyone I've ever known. I doubt he has much time for gadding about the countryside."

"Mmm ..." Suddenly another young surgeon tapped Mark on the shoulder. "Mind if I cut in?" Mark reluctantly turned her over to Ben, a young man Martin had introduced to her earlier before dinner. The music had slowed, and he complemented her saying, "I didn't want to lose my chance to welcome the beautiful Louisa before Mr. Ellingham reclaims her."

"Thank you. That's very kind."

He continued, "Have to admit though; I can't really understand what you see in the nasty old bugger." Louisa gave him a shocked look. "Oh, I know he's a brilliant surgeon, and with a few private patients, he makes a bundle, but much as I admire him, his surgical skills, he is a miserable old sod. I cannot fathom why you would want to spend any time with him when there are much nicer, and younger, blokes available who have a brilliant future ahead of them."

'Uh huh, and who may they be?"

"Well myself for starters. I'd be happy to take you out clubbing some night. Let me have your number and I'll give you a ring tomorrow."

"And what about Cynthia? She seems quite nice." Louisa nodded in the direction of his date who was dancing closer than she should have been with Mark.

"Yes, she's a good sport, enjoys a good party, but she's not a keeper. So what do you think?"

Letting Ben's hand loose, she replied, "I think I'll stick with Martin. He _is_ a keeper." With that she marched back to where Martin was sitting, who once again was engrossed in a technical conversation with another senior member of staff. He turned to her as she sat down and pointed to a full glass of white wine. "I thought you might want some wine after all that dancing."

"Thank you." She picked up the wine and observed the scene around her: Martin talking shop with another senior member of staff; another set of senior staffers talking shop at a nearby table; a number of junior staffers, both men and women, on the floor dancing vigorously, some with their partners and some with others. "_Perhaps_," she thought, _"The young ones just have to get it out of their system. The more senior guys seem to be focused on their work._" As that thought was crossing her mind, she noticed one of the most senior surgeons dancing with Cynthia and caressing her bum suggestively, as she pressed up against him provocatively. "_Or maybe ... not." _This evening was proving to be just as enlightening as Holly's barbeque.

She put her hand on Martin's thigh and he covered her hand with his, picking it up and caressing her palm with his thumb. He glanced over at her and mouthed, "One moment", then turned back to finish his conversation, closing with, "I think I'll try to have one more dance with Louisa ... if you'll excuse us."

He was enjoying the opportunity to exchange ideas with his colleagues this evening, but he had also been hoping to spend some time, even just a little, alone with Louisa. He wanted to ask her something in particular, and it appeared that the dance floor afforded them the only opportunity for intimate conversation. He peered into her eyes, "Would you like to dance? With me?"

"Very much." She smiled up at him as he rose and offered her his hand.

They joined the dancers on the floor and Martin placed his right hand lightly on her back and took her right hand in his left and led her in a simple dance step. He stared out over her shoulder and said, "Uh ... Louisa."

'Yes Martin?"

"Uh ... I was wondering ..."

"Yes?"

"Um ...do you ..." Just then another couple danced close to them forcing Martin to guide them to a quieter area of the dance floor. Martin had something important to ask her and didn't want anyone else to overhear their conversation. Once they were out of earshot of other couples, he began again, still staring into space and not looking directly at her. "Um ... I was wondering ... um ... have we ..." This was a difficult question for him to ask. He knew it was important to her, but he really didn't understand the concept nor did he know the significance of it. He blundered on, "Have we been through 'coon season yet?"

Louisa was quite surprised by the question and stared up at his face, but he continued to stare over her shoulder, an impassive expression on his face. Suddenly the humour of the question overcame her and she felt the absurdity and hilarity of the question bubbling up inside her. She buried her head in his shoulder, and hugged him hard suppressing her laughter, but not the broad smile that covered her face. She thought about how well they were getting along with only the occasional spat about her shoes in the entryway or Lizzie's shedding on his trousers or his insistence about cleaning the kitchen as they cooked instead of waiting till afterwards. Her biggest fear had been his companionship in social settings and he had proved himself capable over the last two weekends. Yes, she thought, they had weathered coon season quite successfully. She raised her head to speak and reached up to turn his head so he was facing her. "Yes, Martin, I believe we have come through 'coon season with minimal difficulties."

A sly grin crept across his lips, and raising his eyebrow, he said, "Good."


	75. Chapter 75

**Chapter 75**

It was Thursday evening, after 8pm and Martin wasn't home. Louisa was worried. It wasn't like him not to let her know when he would be delayed. He would either have Ms. Newcross call or he would leave a message on her mobile, but he had done neither. She had called his mobile several times but he had not answered. She knew there was likely to be a good explanation, but she couldn't prevent the fears running rampant through her mind. She pictured him in a dark alley, bleeding to death from a mugging, or in hospital, the victim of an accident, and she scolded herself for allowing her mind to harbour such images. He most likely had a last minute emergency to attend and was distracted. But ... he hadn't been himself all week, preoccupied and more taciturn than usual. It was almost as if he was distancing himself from her, another fear that kept breaking through her attempts to remain calm. Tonight? Where was he?

After Martin had asked her about "coon season" at the ball, she was certain that he would propose. They had arrived home and as he took her wrap off her shoulders, he started kissing the nape of her neck, working his way with sensuous kisses around to the hollow at the base of her throat. She ran her fingers through his hair and then lifted his head up to kiss him tenderly on the lips. He deepened the kiss, raising his hand to caress her cheek with the back of his fingers, and then ran his fingers through her hair, holding her close.

He pulled away slightly and brushed the hair away from her face. Looking deep into her eyes, he murmured, "You were the most beautiful woman in the room tonight ... I ... umm ... I consider myself very lucky that I was the man you chose to go home with." He traced a finger down the side of her cheek, cupping her chin in his hand and kissing her softly.

It was an uncharacteristic statement. Oh he would occasionally complement her, telling her she looked nice, but it wasn't often and she knew he found it difficult. "Oh Martin. I was the one who was lucky to be able to go home with you," she whispered overcome with love for him. She reached up and pulled him down for a long deep lingering kiss, and unbuttoning his jacket, she slipped it off onto the floor. They slowly made their way to the bedroom, shedding a tie here, a sash there until it was just the two of them together with nothing separating them as nature and their passion demanded. She was sure that he would propose afterwards, but he hadn't.

They lingered long in bed the next morning, making love again and falling back to sleep before rising reluctantly to pick up the trail of clothing scattered from the side of the bed to the entryway and then enjoying a companionable late breakfast working the Sunday crossword. The remainder of the day was spent quietly, a short walk in the park and then with Martin working on his clock and she finishing up a project due the next day. Dinner was a quiet affair, which wasn't unusual. They were both tired and went to bed early that night, spooned intimately together.

It started Monday morning when he rushed out the door, skipping breakfast with the excuse that he needed to be off early. When she called during lunch to ask if he would meet her at the market after work to pick up provisions for supper, he was preoccupied, telling her he wouldn't have time and asking her to select whatever suited her. He seemed distracted while they were preparing their meal and was even more quiet than usual afterwards as he reviewed his notes for the following day's procedures and she studied the newly proposed guidelines on year four through six mathematics instruction with Lizzie curled up on her lap.

She didn't think about it until Tuesday when he pulled out his clock after arriving home instead of helping with dinner preparations. Periodically over the course of the evening, he would glance up at her in contemplation, then a look of sadness or longing would cross his face and he would refocus his attention on his work. She asked him if anything was wrong and he told her no, that he was just tired. Wednesday evening was a repeat of Tuesday, and when he once again turned to his clock instead of to her, she pulled up a chair to look him in the eye to tell him she was worried that he might be getting sick. He told her he was fine, that he was having a challenging week. When she reached for him that night in bed, hoping to comfort him, he turned away, saying, "not tonight."

As she sat at the table that Thursday evening, trying to eat, she contemplated his behaviour that week. Something had changed. Was it just that he was having a challenging week as he said, or was it something else? She rose and wandered into the bedroom, opening his wardrobe and running her fingers over his suits, picking up one of the sleeves and caressing it with her cheek, trying to soothe herself with his scent. It seemed to her that he must be reconsidering their relationship, and that he wasn't going to propose. He was planning to leave her; what else could his behaviour mean?

She returned to the table, and forced a bite of cod into her mouth. She choked it down and then broke into tears, sitting alone at the table her meal barely touched, sobbing almost uncontrollably. "Click", she heard his key in the latch. She ran into the lavatory to wash her face and dry her tears.

Martin had been elated when Louisa told him they had come through "coon season" successfully. He knew that she would accept him when he asked her to marry him and he decided to visit his jeweller on Monday to select a diamond to present to her when he formally requested her hand in marriage. He thought back to his dream and how he had mucked up his first proposal and then unceremoniously dropped her ring into her dinner forcing her to put it on her finger by herself. He didn't understand why he behaved that way in his dream; he might lack certain social graces, but even he knew he should place the ring on her finger.

He planned to take her to dinner at the small cafe where they had first dined together a year ago, walk through the park like they did then, find a secluded spot and ask her there. Perhaps there would be some band giving a concert as well. Or, if the park were crowded, he would wait until they arrived home and ask her while they sat on the sofa drinking their customary cup of tea before bed. His mind was full, as he began to gather the words and phrases to use in his proposal.

But soon after his arrival at hospital Monday morning, his colleagues started commenting on his luck in finding such a lovely woman ("Yes, she is lovely"). How did an old curmudgeon like him manage to win over a beautiful woman like Louisa ("Humph!"). You lucky devil, bet she's a tigress in the bedroom ("How dare you?! Get out!"). One young surgeon even had the temerity to suggest he'd be happy to keep her company once Martin tired of her. He met all of these comments with his usual curtness, growing more impatient as the morning progressed, finally slamming his door. Their relationship was no one's business but their own.

He did visit his jeweller that Monday at lunch time and selected a perfect round-cut diamond in a plain platinum band. The jeweller assured him that they could return anytime in the following week or two to select a different setting, that couples did that all the time. He was a little later than usual for dinner that night because he had to pick up the ring after work. He went straight to his room after greeting Louisa and hid the ring in his dresser until later in the week when the time would be right.

As they prepared supper that night, he began to have doubts. He thought about how beautiful she had looked Saturday evening, how so many of the younger unattached men crowded around her. Why was she with him, a dour and difficult middle aged man, when one of them would be so much more suitable for a vivacious woman like her? Could he possibly make and keep her happy over a lifetime? More than anything he wanted her to be happy.

His doubts ate at him as the week progressed. Tuesday evening, absently forgetting about supper, he took his clock out and started to work on it the moment he arrived home. He always did his best thinking while working on his clock and he had a lot to think through before he spoke with Louisa. He was startled when she came over to greet him to ask if he were hungry because their dinner was almost ready. She tousled his hair and gave him a quick kiss, "You must have had a hard day. I can't remember you coming in without greeting me."

"Oh ... yes... sorry." He reached for her and and pulled her down for a simple delicate kiss on the lips. "How was your day?"

"Okay. Busy. Want to tell me about yours?"

"No."

"Oh. Okay." She looked at him somewhat puzzled, trying to decide whether to probe a little and decided against it. He obviously didn't want to talk. "Let's eat. I've already set the table."

After dinner whilst he continued working on his clock, he stole glances at her as she read quietly on the sofa, her cat curled up next to her as usual. She was so focused, so intense in her work and thoughtful, so intelligent, and so full of tenderness and compassion and love. It must be true that opposites attract because he was nothing like her. Eventually she would realise that he had no positive qualities, and that he was just as she had described him in his dream: gruff, monosyllabic and rude. The more he thought about their life together, the more he convinced himself that it was ultimately hopeless.

When she asked him the next night why he was so quiet, he couldn't explain, told her it was nothing. And when she reached for him that night in bed, tenderly stroking his chest and kissing his neck, then his ears, he turned away before she could kiss his lips. It wasn't fair to her to pretend, to make love with her when he was feeling so conflicted.

Thursday was a terrible day. There were the usual early morning procedures, standard "by the book" operations that he had done many times before, followed by office consultations. He was called out mid-afternoon to attend an accident victim, and during surgery the patient suffered a rare but fatal reaction to the anaesthesia; neither Martin nor anyone else on the team could save him. It was not uncommon to lose patients in surgery, but he himself rarely lost one. It was as he had told Roger Fenn in his dream, he had the Midas touch, always able to see the signs of a patient going into shock and able to start recovery before it was too late. This time he failed to recognise the signs until it was too late. No one blamed him for the patient's death, and intellectually he knew none of them could have saved the patient even if they had recognised the signs sooner, but it was still distressing.

The victim's family had gathered from across city after hearing of the accident and were waiting, anxious to hear that all would be well. Martin met with them to deliver the terrible news; afterwards he sequestered himself in his office to write up his notes, and then sat in stunned silence. Ordinarily he would go home to his beloved clock, finding solace in the delicate mechanisms. He knew death was inevitable, but it was hard nonetheless, especially now. How was he to face Louisa this evening? He couldn't bear the thought. She admired his skill as a surgeon; how would his failure affect her feelings for him?

With nowhere else to go, he eventually pulled himself up, trudged out the hospital doors, and made his way home. He should have called, but he didn't know what to say. He noticed a plate on the table with dinner untouched. He could hear water running in the lavatory. He set his bag down, loosened his tie and stood stiffly with his hands clinched by his sides, waiting for her to enter the room. He could hear her taking tentative steps from the bedroom out to the hall and saw her furtively peek around the corner of the hallway. "Martin?"

"Yes", he replied. His fingers were drumming against the sides of his trousers, in anticipation of a row.

She took one look at him, the agony in his eyes and knew immediately that something terrible had happened. "What's wrong?" She walked across the lounge, hesitating, waiting for a sign that he wanted her. Except for his fingers nervously twitching, he was completely still. She stood before him looking into his eyes, those soft expressive eyes. He didn't say anything, just leaned forward slightly, breathing heavily. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to her. "Oh, my love, what has happened?"

He grabbed onto her and held her tightly. How could he tell her what had happened?

"Tell me. You look terrible. I was so worried when I couldn't reach you."

"Mmm." He couldn't reply and just continued to hold her fast. Realising that he either didn't want to talk or couldn't, she continued to hug him, stroking his back in comforting circles as if he were a child. After a minute or two, she felt his chest heave in what must have been a sob; his unspoken emotions were so strong she found herself weeping also. Eventually he pulled away and saw that she was crying. He pulled out his handkerchief and started to wipe the tears from her face. "Louisa, what is wrong?"

"I don't know. All I know is that you are suffering and I can't bear it." She took his handkerchief and started to wipe his cheeks as well. "Can you tell me now what has upset you so?"

"It's nothing." She cocked her head, a question in her eyes, and he added, "Really."

She gave him "the look". He was perplexed; "the look" usually meant he had done something wrong, and she could see the confusion in his eyes.

"Martin, I don't believe that for a second. If we are to be together, you have to be able to tell me when something terrible has happened."

"_Yes_" he thought to himself. "_Here she is, wanting to comfort me. How will she feel after I tell her? There's only one way to know._"

"Louisa, take a seat." He led her to the sofa, sat down next to her, and began to tell her about the surgery that failed. He didn't hold back, telling her everything. She held his hand and listened intently stroking his arm or kissing his hand when he seemed to struggle. She stayed with him, occasionally asking him to translate the technical jargon so she could understand. Finally he finished and let out a loud sigh whispering, "You love me because I am a good surgeon. I guess I'm not the man you thought I was."

She gazed into his eyes, "No, you most definitely are not. I can only say that I love you even more for what you have endured today."

Quietly he interrupted her. "Louisa, don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not. Listen to me. I know you are a brilliant surgeon, and that is one of the reasons I admire you, that you do the best for each and every one of your patients; yet, here you are, agonising over a loss that no one could have prevented. It just tells me that there are depths to your character that few others know are there. You are the most admirable man I know and don't you dare tell me otherwise."

He stared down at his hands twisting in his lap and thought how his fear of losing her had affected his reaction to his patient's death. His emotions had been building all week and they spilled over this evening. He looked back up bleakly and replied, "No."

"Good." She smiled at him gently. "Would you like something to eat? I could heat up dinner or fix you an omelette?"

"Yes that would be good."

Together they rose from the sofa and holding his hand, she led him into the kitchen. What was he to do? He couldn't bear to be without her, just as he had told his dream Louisa. He was also certain that, even if he were to do everything in his power, he couldn't make her happy. He was hungry and tired; perhaps things would be clearer in the morning.


	76. Chapter 76

**Chapter 76**

Friday morning Martin was still conflicted, even after a good night's sleep. Part of him just wanted to ignore his doubts and fears, ask Louisa to marry him and hope for the best; another part of him knew it was hopeless. Nonetheless she was here in London, if just for one more week; he still had time to weigh his options, there was no rush. They might as well take advantage of the pleasant summer weather and he surprised Louisa by suggesting that they go out to dinner that evening. "I'll try to arrive home by half five and we can take a cab to your friend Bertrand's place."

He had proposed this evening out in his usual calm matter-of-fact tone. Even so, it seemed to her that his dark mood had lifted. She was pleased and replied with a broad smile. "Oh, that would be wonderful."

Betrand was the owner of the bistro where they had first dined last summer; and since her visit in January, they had gone there several times. He and Louisa had become friendly. As they walked into the restaurant, Bertrand rushed over to greet them, opening his arms wide and chirping, "Louisa, how are you this evening my love?" He beamed at her and, clutching her shoulders, gave her a peck on both cheeks.

"Very well, and you?" Louisa smiled back at him.

"Perfect. Isn't this summer lovely?" He released Louisa and reached out his hand to Martin. "Good evening Mr. Ellingham. I trust you are well this evening."

Martin nodded his head, "Yes, thank you."

"Let me show you to your usual table." He guided them to a cosy table in the corner where they were free to talk. "We have some wonderful specials tonight that I think you will really enjoy. Sean will be your waiter this evening, but if there is anything I can help you with, just let me know." He excused himself and headed back to the kitchen.

Sean immediately offered them the evening's menu to peruse and asked if he could take their drinks order. As usual, Martin ordered bottled water and Louisa asked for a glass of white wine. "Very good. I'll be right back to answer any questions you might have on tonight's offerings."

After they had placed their order, sea bass for Martin and duck for Louisa, Louisa took a sip of her wine, and looking Martin straight in the eye, said, "You've had a difficult week, I think."

He looked down at the table in front of him, "Um ... yes. But it's over." Deflecting the conversation away from himself, he asked, "How was your week?"

"Good for the most part, except I was worried about you."

"Me? You shouldn't have been."

"Martin, you were skulking around the flat, absorbed in your clock, hardly speaking. And when you didn't come home last night, I feared the worst. I know what happened yesterday, but what was going on earlier in the week?"

"It's over now. Let's talk about something else."

"Okay." She paused. "But in future, please confide in me when something is wrong; don't make me guess."

The waiter brought their salads and they each started to eat. Louisa took several bites of her beet and mixed greens salad, and then put down her fork and sat back. "In the spirit of honesty, I need to tell you that I was worried you had grown tired of me and were ready for me to leave."

Martin looked up from his own salad, stunned at her words. How could she have guessed at his thoughts, not that he was tired of her, that would never happen, but that he had been thinking they should part. "No, I will never grow tired of you."

He sat back suddenly as he thought of something important and looked at her intently, "Uh ... do you remember the first time I brought your here?"

"Yes, yes I do." She grew animated remembering the evening. " I couldn't believe I was out with such a distinguished, handsome man. And the staff all knew you by name. I confess I wondered how many other women you had brought here."

"I hadn't brought any other women here."

"Yes, now that I know you, I can see that, but I didn't know you then."

"Mmm ... but do you remember when it was?"

"Of course, it was when Holly was in hospital, when I was visiting her last August."

"Yes ... last August ..." He looked at her expectantly.

"Just before I went back to get ready for the new term, like now."

"Yes?" Surely she would remember.

"What?" She was puzzled, what was he getting at?

Finally his patience was exhausted. Did she not realise what day it was? "Louisa, it was exactly one year ago today that we shared our first meal together. Do you not remember?"

"Oh!" She thought back. She had arrived late Saturday night, the ninth, and Holly had her accident on Monday the eleventh, which meant that she met Martin on Tuesday the twelfth and they had dinner on Wednesday the thirteenth. Today was Friday the thirteenth, 2004 was a leap year. 'Bad luck' immediately popped into her mind, and she swept it right back out. What a romantic man he was under that gruff exterior, "_I wonder if he will propose tonight?_ She was glowing, warmed by his recognition of an important date in their life together and in anticipation of what the evening could hold, "You're right. It's our anniversary. How could I forget?"

"Yes." He nodded at her and pursed his lips.

She reached across the table, pulled him towards her and kissed him gently on the lips. "Happy anniversary, darling."

Martin reddened. "Louisa!"

"What?" she laughed. "Can't I give my man a chaste kiss in public occasionally?"

"Mmmm ... " He tucked his head into his neck and glanced down at his hands folded neatly in his lap.

He took up his fork for another bite of his lightly dressed fennel and orange rocket salad whilst she burbled on, "Who would have guessed that here we would be a year later, so much in love? So much has happened." She reached her hand over to caress his cheek, "Makes me want to kiss you again ... but don't worry, I won't ... not here."

She smiled, and he looked back at her with a barely perceptible grin. "Good."

She turned sad, "But it also makes me realise that I only have one more week until it's time to return to Portwenn."

"I thought you would be happy to go back home."

"Yes, I _am_ looking forward to being back in the village, but I will also miss you terribly."

"Have you been happy here with me this summer?"

"You know that I have. As much as I am looking forward to returning home, I hate to leave. It's bittersweet."

He had been prevaricating all day as to whether he should ask her or not. He really couldn't bear the thought of life without her, going back to his solitary existence. That she had been happy with him this summer was true, even he could see that. He took a deep breath and replied, "Then don't. Stay here with me." His tone was even and serious, but his eyes were pleading.

"I can't. You know that I can't. I have responsibilities."

"Right." He went back to finish his salad, and considered. _"Will those responsibilities always keep us apart?_"

"Miss, are you finished with your salad?" The waiter had returned with their mains.

"Yes, thank you."

"And sir?"

Martin put down his fork. "Yes."

They each started in on their meal.

"My duck is wonderful, and your fish looks delicious."

"It is. Would you care for a taste?"

"Um. That would be lovely. Would you like a bite of mine as well?"

He broke off a piece of his fish and transferred it to her plate as she cut a large piece from her duck and placed it on his.

"I don't need so much of your meal, just a taste will do."

"Nonsense, there's way more food than I can eat, and you eat more than I do anyway." She tasted the fish and pronounced it very good. "One thing you can say about Portwenn, the fish is very good, so fresh."

"Yes, one of the benefits of visiting." He paused. "I'm not looking forward to the trip back with your cat." He still wasn't able to call her Lizzie or Ms. Lisbeth; she was still "your cat".

"I thought you were beginning to get on with her."

"Mmmm. She is a considerate flatmate, for an animal, but from my experience, she isn't a good traveller."

"No. But it's not like it's going to be a regular thing, is it? I mean I can't possibly come back for an extended period until the holidays, and even then it wouldn't be long enough to bring her."

"But you will come up for weekends like last year, won't you?"

Louisa noted the slight hint of desperation in his question, and she reached her hand over to touch his arm, "Of course. And you will come down to Cornwall as well, yeah?"

"Yes."

"Even though the renovation on Joan's farm is finished?"

"Of course!" He looked up at her and saw that her eyes were twinkling and she had a silly grin on her face, and he realised that she was teasing him. He screwed up his mouth, "Humph."

"And Christmas, will you come down for a few days at Christmas and celebrate with Joan and me? You could bring Ruth as well. We could all drive back together afterwards for the New Year's celebration here."

"We could ..." He briefly thought about a trip alone with Ruth in the car like last year. There was no telling what she would try to wangle out of him. Perhaps he could just put her on the train.

They finished their meal quietly, each contemplating the next year, with Louisa wondering if he would propose and Martin, now that he had decided to ask, wondering how and when. He still couldn't believe that she could actually love him, that she would actually agree to marry him and move to London. But if he didn't ask, he would never know, and there might never be a better time than tonight on what she called their anniversary. He mentally congratulated himself for noticing the date in his diary that morning.

She thought about how shy and insecure Martin sometimes was and thought about asking him herself. On the other hand, he was so old-fashioned, he might find that off-putting; the man should be the pursuer, the one who asks. As shy as he was, he had certainly been the pursuer, hadn't he. She smiled as she thought of him coming up to her in hospital and then asking her out, coming down to Cornwall to woo her; he really was her prince charming ... although there was always the possibility that he was getting cold feet, despite his assurance that he would never grow tired of her. No she wouldn't let her imagination go there.

Martin signalled for the waiter and asked for the bill.

"No puddings then?" the waiter asked for he remembered them from previous visits and knew that the lady frequently enjoyed a light dessert.

Martin gave Louisa a questioning look, and she shook her head smiling at him, "Not tonight Sean. Everything was very good. Please let Bertrand and the chef know how much we enjoyed our meal."

Martin settled the bill and they went out into the warmth of an August evening in London. "Shall we walk through the park like we did last year?"

She took his hand and giggling, with her eyes sparkling, replied, "As long as you watch where you step."

"Huh ... oh yes ... Very funny." Why did she have to remember that? Dog faeces ... It was so very embarrassing at the time; he was certain that she would never want to have anything to do with him after that incident. But it didn't put her off.

"I was surprised that you were willing to see me again after that."

"Really? That happens to all of us from time to time; I really didn't think much of it, except that you kept apologising; that really wasn't necessary."

"Hmm ..."

"And of course, it happened again when you visited Cornwall. That was funny, but I knew better than to laugh. But it hasn't happened in a long time, so maybe the spell is broken."

"Let's talk about something else."

"Okay, what would you like to discuss."

He looked down at the path as they walked. Once again there was a band playing show tunes, not Camelot, but something more recent, not anything he recognised, but Louisa seemed to be enjoying it, humming along with the tune. "Coon season," he blurted.

She stopped humming and looked up. "Coon season?"

"Yes. I understand that we have successfully navigated 'coon season'."

"Yes, I did say that ... last week."

"And earlier this year you indicated that we needed to wait to discuss our future until after we knew each other better"

She beamed at him and swung their entwined hands back and forth in excited expectation, "Yes. Yes, I did."

He was emboldened by her broad smile. "Let's go over here and sit down." He indicated a vacant park bench nestled in a small copse of shrubs, which would give them a modicum of privacy.

They sat and he reached for her hand, but said nothing. He stared out through the opening in the shrubs to where other park visitors were strolling around the garden. He knit his brows together more tightly than usual and frowned. "I'm a difficult man."

"Sometimes, yes."

"Often. I can be gruff and rude."

"But not usually with me."

Dispiritedly, he continued, "I'm not sure I will make you happy."

"No, not always. I'm sure we will have difficult times. Everyone does. But if we love each other and are committed to finding our way past those troubles, then I think you will make me very, very happy.

He continued, staring straight ahead, not looking at her, "And my work is here in London. I can't do the research and the cutting edge procedures anywhere else in this country. London is where I must make my home." This was the sticking point.

"Yes, I understand. And Portwenn is my home. I will always want to spend time there."

That was what he feared. "Right. So where does that leave us?"

"I will always want to spend time in Portwenn, but that doesn't mean I won't live somewhere else as long as I can spend holidays there."

His heart skipped a beat; he knew that wasn't a true medical condition, but he was certain that it stopped momentarily as he savoured the implications of her last statement.

He gazed over at her, "Does that mean you would be willing to move to London and live here with me?"

She looked up at him and softly replied, "Yes, Martin, it does, as long as I could go home to Portwenn from time to time."

"Of course ... Oh Louisa". He brushed her cheek with his fingers and then glanced out at the couples strolling through the park; none were looking in their direction, so he leaned down to kiss her gently. "You know that I love you. Will you marry me?"

She threw her arms around him and answered him in a voice that was louder than she had intended, "Yes, yes, Martin. I _will_ marry you, you wonderful man." And she kissed him heartily.

He pushed her away slightly peering over her shoulder to see that several of the other park goers had stopped and were staring at them. Suddenly the crowd started clapping and shouting "Well done ... Congratulations."

Louisa covered her face with her hand, blushing. "Oh dear. I think we should go."

"Nonsense, it's none of their business." Martin replied scowling. He jumped up, shouting at the on-lookers, "What are you doing? Go away."

Louisa was close behind him and placed her hand on his chest and addressed the crowd in her schoolteacher's voice. "Thank you everyone. But could you please just give us a minute to ourselves? Thank you."

They slipped behind the shrubs where they were shielded them from the small crowd that had gathered. "Sorry about that," she murmured. "Do you still want to marry me?"

He pulled her closer so that they were completely hidden from view and hugged her tightly, "Of course I do."

After a few moments, he released her reluctantly, "Now, let's go home."

Slowly they walked out from behind the shrubs where the crowd of well-wishers had dispersed and they headed back to the flat, holding hands. Once inside, Louisa kicked off her shoes, placing them carefully inside the cupboard so Martin wouldn't trip over them and then she reached up to kiss him. "Thank you for a wonderful evening, one that I will never forget."

"It's not over yet," he whispered. "Come." He took her hand and led her into the kitchen, where he filled the kettle and put it on the hob. "Would you like some tea?"

The kitchen wasn't the room where she was expecting him to lead her, so she pulled him close, pressing herself up against him suggestively, and kissing him deeply, asking, "Are you sure you want a cup of tea right now? Isn't there something else you'd like to have first?"

"Umm ... yes ... eventually ... yes." He stroked her back and cupped her bottom and gave her a deep lingering kiss of his own, pressing his body hard against hers. "But we need to talk first."

Breathless, she responded, "Okay ... I guess."

He put the tea to steep in the pot and moved to pull out the mugs from the cupboard, milk from the fridge and sugar for Louisa.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"We need to talk about the practicalities. When can we schedule our wedding? Where should we get married? You need to give your notice and find a position here if you want to continue to work. That sort of thing."

"We can talk about that tomorrow," Louisa replied petulantly. She was anxious to consummate their engagement.

"And there's one more thing." He handed her a mug and led her to the sofa.

"What's that?"

"All in good time. Enjoy your tea. Where do you think we should get married?"

"In Portwenn. I want the village to celebrate with us. We can invite our London friends and any colleagues you want to join us there."

"Right. We can check with the church when we go down next weekend. See when we can arrange it."

Miss Lizbeth had jumped onto Louisa's lap when they first sat down, and she stroked her absentmindedly and pursed her lips together, "Ah ... yes ... bit of a problem that, I'm afraid. The church won't marry us because I was married before."

"Umm. But that was a long time ago."

"Doesn't matter. We'll have to get married in the registry office." She was sad at the thought of no church wedding. "Perhaps I could get the vicar to bless our marriage; be almost as good as a church wedding."

"Yes." He held her hand and gazed into her eyes, "I don't care how or where we get married as long as you are my wife and I am your husband at the end of the day."

"Oh, Martin. You really are a lovely, lovely man. I just adore you." She put her cup down and leaned into him to kiss him tenderly, jostling Lizzie in her lap. Lizzie squeaked at the disturbance and then resettled herself.

"Umm ... I have something for you. Let me see if I can find it." He patted his pockets and reached inside his jacket, "Ah ... here it is." He pulled out a ring box and opened it. He scowled in annoyance. "I wanted to do it right when I first asked you in the park, but those people interrupted us. Louisa, will you marry me?"

She was surprised, not thinking that he would have thought to buy a ring. She smiled at him and lifted the ring out of the box. "Oh Martin, it's beautiful." She gazed at him tenderly, "Yes, Martin I will marry you."

He took the ring and slipped it on her finger, then gave her one of his rare smiles.

"It fits perfectly. How did you guess the right size?"

"I borrowed one of your rings and gave it to the jeweller to measure earlier this summer. I looked at diamonds at the same time and went in earlier this week to make my final selection. It's in a temporary setting; he said we can go in this week and select the setting that you like best."

"I can't keep this one?"

"Yes you may, but there may be another you would like better. We have to select wedding bands and you might want your engagement ring to match that."

"Perhaps, but I really like the simplicity of this one."

"You can have whatever you like. We don't have to decide tonight."

"No." She held her hand up to admire the ring he had chosen, "It really is perfect, not too big and ostentatious and not too small either, just perfect."

"I'm glad you like it."

"What do you think Lizzie?" She held her hand under Lizzie's face for her to inspect it. Lizzie sniffed the ring, uninterested, and then snuggled deeper into Louisa's lap and went back to sleep.

Martin rolled his eyes, but decided to ignore Lizzie's indifference. He picked up Louisa's hand and then kissed her again. "Now, I believe you were interested in some additional celebratory activity this evening?"

"Yes indeed. I do have some ideas." She grinned from ear to ear, picked up Lizzie and put her on the floor, and then leaned over to kiss him, tenderly at first and then more deeply, and he slowly leaned back into the cushions, pulling her down on top of him. She pushed herself up to gaze down at him, "Mmm... this is nice isn't it?"

"Yes." He gasped, lust coloring his eyes. He wrapped his arms around her slipping one hand on her bottom to press her torso deep against his while pulling her head down with his other hand to kiss her deeply. They broke apart for a breath, and she whispered, 'I love you Martin Ellingham".

"Mmm" He reached up and pushed her hair behind her ears, running his fingers along her jawline. "You are so beautiful," he whispered. "What have I done to deserve you?"

Raising her head higher, she smiled gently, "Oh Martin. I don't know where to begin ..." She ran the fingers of her hand through his hair and then reached for his tie to remove it and loosen his shirt collar so she could trail kisses along his neck.

Miss Lisbeth, who had been miffed at being assigned to the floor and who had been observing them intently, decided that it was time to join the party. "Oof." Louisa fell against Martin as Lizzie jumped up and landed with a thump on her back. She treaded gingerly as she walked up Louisa's back until she reached her shoulder, where she peered into Martin's face and greeted him, "Meow."

"OH GOD!"


	77. Chapter 77

**Chapter 77 **

Martin and Louisa passed their first weekend as an engaged couple happily centered in each other's company. Saturday after Martin returned from rounds, they cooked a big breakfast and then decided to visit the jeweler to select their wedding bands. After looking at several styles, they both agreed that simpler was better, at least for them, and selected plain platinum bands. Louisa had been thinking about the ring that Martin wore on his right hand, the one that was his grandfather's, the one that had his grandparents' names, Henry and Elizabeth, engraved on the inside. She hadn't thought to discuss it with Martin beforehand, but tentatively brought it up now, "Martin what do you think about engraving our names inside the ring like your grandparents did with theirs?"

She was concerned that he might consider the idea too sentimental, but whilst it surprised him, he also found it comforting that she felt so strongly about their union and nodding his head, he replied, "Yes, yes, good idea." He pulled the ring off his finger and showed it to the jeweler, who examined it and indicated that he would be more than happy to oblige, sending them off with a selection of fonts from which to choose.

They spent the early afternoon strolling through the park, holding hands and making plans. Louisa was ebullient, practically skipping as they walked, buoyant and beaming. Everything was marvelous, the flowers in the park, the children playing near the fountain, an elderly couple they happened to pass, the dark blue summer sky, the pigeons that pecked on the pavement and then flew up in a cloud of feathers when startled; even the roiling clouds that were gathering and blackening the sky in the distance, threatening rain couldn't put a damper on her happiness. Martin maintained his usual calm and serious demeanor, but he was more relaxed than usual, charmed and captivated by her enthusiasm, and he took much pleasure in her happiness. If only he could always make her so. Happiness wasn't an emotion with which he was familiar, but he thought it possible that happiness was what he was currently feeling; if nothing else, he was certainly pleased and content. Nonetheless even now, at the back of his mind was the fear, always present, that eventually he would push her away, that eventually she would discover the true Martin Ellingham, the disagreeable and unlovable misanthrope.

Before they left the flat that morning, they had called Ruth and invited her over for brunch the next day. Once the rain started, they took shelter in a small café, lingering over their tea, and cucumber and watercress sandwiches whilst they decided on a brunch menu. Fortunately the rain was short-lived, but the rest of the afternoon was steamy, perfect for doing the shopping and relaxing at home before fixing a simple supper and dressing for their evening out at the symphony.

Ruth was spot on time at noon the next day and was suitably pleased at their news, asking all the right questions ... I assume the wedding will be in Cornwall. _Yes, at the registry office with a blessing in the village church_ ... When do you plan to schedule it? _We will meet with the vicar when we get back to Portwenn week after next_ ... Where will you live? _Here in London, of course. _... Louisa, will you continue to work? _Yes, I will start looking for a job here in London before I head back to Portwenn next weekend ..._ And Martin, what are you planning to do? _What, what do you mean?_ You will have a wife, and I assume a family is in the plans; how will you cope with the extra responsibility and demands on your time? _I believe I am at a place in my career where I can make the time for Louisa and a family. I intend to ..._ Good.

It only took a minute before all her friends and cohorts noticed the ring on her finger as she arrived Monday morning for the last week of her seminar. Of course they all had the same questions as Ruth and, in addition peppered her with questions about the proposal, wanting all the details. Louisa did confide that he asked on the anniversary of their first date and that they were in the park, but that was all she was willing to divulge. On the other hand, it was the perfect opportunity for her to mention that she would be looking to find a job in London, and if any of them knew of openings, to please let her know. As she was a popular member of the group and known for her professionalism, they all agreed to keep a lookout for her.

As she had done on two other Wednesdays that summer when she had a few extra hours for lunch, she arranged to bring some sandwiches to enjoy with Martin in his office. He was with a patient so Miss Newcross escorted her to Martin's office. They had met a few times earlier that summer and were on friendly terms. When Louisa held up the bag containing their sandwiches, Morwenna noticed the ring and gasped, "Miss Glasson, is that what I think it is?"

Louisa glanced down at her ring and then back up at Morwenna as a smile spread across her face. "Yes, yes it is."

Morwenna squealed and gave her a hug, "Congratulations. Oh, it's so exciting. Let me see." Louisa held out her hand so Morwenna could examine the ring more closely. "It's the most beautiful diamond I've ever seen." Then suddenly she stood up straight, "Mr. Ellingham. That scoundrel. I can't believe he didn't tell me." Several other administrative staff members had come running when they heard Morwenna's scream, and suddenly Louisa found herself surrounded by women straining to see her ring and hear about the engagement. When did this happen? How did he ask you? Did he go down on one knee?

"It was all very nice, but of course we want to keep those details just between us for now." Louisa knew Martin would be aghast if she were to share any of their private moments. Gradually the other staff drifted back to their posts. Within minutes they had spread the news throughout hospital that Mr. Ellingham was getting married!

Finally Louisa was able to settle in Martin's office and lay out their lunch. As she sat down on the couch to review some of her papers whilst waiting for Martin to arrive, a ginger-haired woman strode into his office with Miss Newcross hot on her heels. "Mr. Ellingham is with a patient and there is someone already waiting for him. You'll have to come back later."

"Oh, I'll only be a minute. I'm sure he will want to see me." Looking at Louisa, she said, "You won't mind if I wait here for Mr. Ellingham, will you." It was more of an assumption than a question, and she sat confidently in Martin's chair behind his desk, examining the few papers he had left resting there and inspecting his lunch.

Louisa recognised her as Edith, Martin's ex-fiancé from medical school and the doctor who had delivered Amy and Tommy's baby Gina. "No, it'll be fine." Looking up at Morwenna, she repeated, "It's fine Miss Newcross. I'm sure she won't be long"

Before Morwenna could leave, Simon dropped by, "Louisa, I just heard the news and had to come see you. Congratulations, I can't believe he finally popped the question." She stood up to greet him and he gave her a big hug. In a moment, two more of Martin's colleagues joined them, Mr. Earnest Holland, a neurosurgeon and Dr. Selina Thomaston, a gastroenterologist. She had met them earlier at the summer ball where they had all enjoyed each others' company. They joined Simon in congratulating her and asking for details about the wedding plans. Several more professional staff members who had been walking through the hall looked in to see what the fuss was about and soon there was quite the party in Martin's office.

Martin noticed the commotion as he walked back from his consultation, mentally writing up notes in his head. As he reached the door, someone shouted out, "Here he is!" and ushered him into the office, slapping his back and offering congratulations. "Yes ... uh ... well ... thank you." He was flummoxed but managed to offer a small smile at the good wishes of his colleagues.

Martin was never one to share any of his personal life, and the attention his colleagues were giving both Louisa and him was making him extremely uncomfortable. Louisa had moved to his side and placed her hand on his arm as his friends continued to congratulate them and she could feel the tension welling up inside him so she addressed the group, smiling as she turned to each of them, "Martin and I are very happy to have your good wishes. You are all so very kind. It means a lot to us. But ... right now, we have some sandwiches to eat, and I imagine you have work and patients to attend, so ... thank you everybody, but the party's over. We'll see you later."

Martin cleared his throat and backed her up, "Mm ... yes ... good-bye."

She released his arm and spreading hers, she gaily shooed them out of the office and went to close the door. Martin turned to walk to his desk and stopped suddenly, bellowing, "What are _you_ doing here?"

Edith had been sitting in his chair the entire time quietly observing the scene with a sly smile on her face, and quipped in a snarky tone, "Since when has your office been party central Ellingham?" Rising out of the chair and lifting her head, she sniffed, "I came to give you some good news, but I gather you have news of your own."

He stepped to the door, opened it wide and snarled, "I'm busy. I'm sure whatever news you have can wait."

Edith had never been intimidated by Ellingham's bluster and she certainly wasn't now. She intended on staying right where she was until she learned more about this woman who had captured Ellingham's heart, apparently. With a friendly smile, she asked, "Aren't you going to introduce me to your fiancé?"

He heaved a heavy sigh. Why did Edith never do as he asked, why wouldn't she leave? He felt bewildered, wanting her gone and he looked wide-eyed first at Louisa, then at Edith and back again, "Uh ... um."

Louisa watched him frozen with two women waiting on him to act, "_Michelle is right. Martin could never manage two women at the same time". _ She stepped forward and held out her hand to Edith, "Louisa Glasson."

Edith took her hand and shook it, "Doctor Edith Montgomery." Edith looked Louisa up and down as if she was assessing her worth, and then coolly offered what etiquette required. "Congratulations." She took a few steps from behind the desk, paused and delivered a bit of old news that she hoped would shock Louisa, "You know ... he won't tell you, but Ellingham and I were engaged in medical school."

"Yes, I know." Louisa stood her ground while Martin watched with growing horror on his face.

Edith screwed up her mouth; that didn't have the effect she was hoping. "Well, well. He's become a little more forthcoming. Never did say much when we were together." She lifted her head so as to look down her nose at Louisa, and a sly smile spread across her face, "Great in bed though, wouldn't you say?"

Martin lunged at her, roaring, "Get out".

"Certainly," Edith walked through the doorway, then slowed and turned back, "Nice to meet you Louisa." She leaned into the doorframe, seductively tracing her fingers up and down the casing. She bore her eyes into Martin's and in her most sultry voice said, "See you around, Ellingham."

She sauntered down the hall, swerving to avoid knocking down Morwenna who stood quietly a few steps from the door, fascinated by the drama taking place inside the office of her otherwise guarded and aloof employer. Martin was speechless, still standing with his fists balled against his side. Louisa went to the door, closed it and brushed her hands against each other, "Good riddance! Let's eat."

The remainder of the week was a whirlwind for Louisa, finishing up the final bits and pieces of her summer course. Before she knew it, it was Friday afternoon and it was time to celebrate the end of course with a small pot-luck banquet with her cohorts, saying good-bye, wishing each other luck, and promising to keep in touch. Those who had come in from other parts of the country had packed their bags that morning and soon rushed off to catch a train or bus back home to prepare for the upcoming school term. Louisa would be joining the exodus the following morning. Those remaining, the London contingent, were meeting up at the local pub for one last hurrah. Wanting to maintain these friendships since she would be one of them soon enough, she joined them. The party didn't break-up until after half seven and she didn't arrive back at Martin's flat until nearly eight. She had called Martin and left him a message that she would be late, so he had prepared their evening meal and waited to dine with her.

The moment she walked in the door, slightly wobbly, he could tell she had had too much to drink. "You're drunk."

"No I'm not." She replied haughtily. "A little happy maybe, but certainly not drunk." She kicked off her shoes, leaving them next to the door.

He walked over, picked up those shoes and placed them inside the cupboard. "You do remember that we were planning to leave early in the morning, and you still need to pack."

"Yes, so you reminded me this morning before I left." She knew that she should have left the pub earlier, and like a guilty child she was feeling defensive. She dropped her bags on the coffee table in the lounge and headed to the spare bedroom where Martin had placed her luggage the night before. "I'd better get packing then, shouldn't I?"

"Mmm ... we'd better eat first."

She made a quick turn about and headed back to the dining room. It had been an emotional week and she forgot her annoyance with him and remembered why she loved him. "Right. Oh! You held supper for me. How sweet." She rushed over to his side and hugged him. "You are my sweet, sweet man, aren't you? Always taking care of me." She reached up and gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"Mmm ... yes." He pulled out his handkerchief to wipe his cheek and then escorted her to the table where he helped her onto a chair. "You need to eat." Realising her condition required medical intervention lest tomorrow be unpleasant for both of them, he poured a large glass of water and place it in front of her. "Drink."

"I'm not thirsty."

"You need to rehydrate. You don't want a nasty hangover tomorrow, do you?"

"No." She drank the water, ate her meal and slowly the effects of the pub's libations started to ease.

"I had a really good time tonight with everyone. You should be glad I've made friends here in London."

"Yes ... good ... but that doesn't negate the fact that we still have to pack up and drive to Cornwall tomorrow ... unless you've decided to stay?"

"No. You are right. I'll just start the washing up and then put my things together." She stood up and gathered her plate and utensils to carry into the kitchen, but Martin waylaid her, "No let me do the washing up. You go pack."

He had packed his weekend bag whist waiting for Louisa to get home and after he finished the washing up, he carried it to the front door. He went back to the spare room where Louisa was packing and stuck his head in "Is there anything I can do to help?"

When he received no response, her entered the room and saw her asleep on the bed, "Louisa?"

No response. Again he called out, "Louisa?"

No response and he realised that she was probably out for the night. He knew she was exhausted. After all she had been up late the night before preparing her final presentation as well as a marinated salad for the afternoon's party. The wine she had enjoyed at the pub didn't help. He pulled a blanket from the dresser, covered her up and turned out the light. Best to let her sleep and get up early to finish the packing.

The next morning was almost as chaotic as Martin had feared. He woke her before heading in for rounds, but she had gone back to sleep and was still in bed when he returned home a bit after eight. He was beginning to lose patience and walked into the room, pulled up the shades, yanked off her blanket, and barked "Louisa! It's time to get up."

Louisa threw her arm over her eyes, "What time is it?"

"Almost 8:30."

Louisa sat up and opened her eyes, "What? Almost 8:30. We need to leave."

"Yes. But you still need to pack."

She looked around the room, puzzled by the empty bags on the floor and her clothes in disarray, scattered across the bed and in the wardrobe. "Ohh ... what a mess."

Martin quickly took over. "Let me help you up and into the shower. I'll fix some breakfast and then you can get the packing done, right?"

"Okay."

He guided her into the en-suite shower and went to fix breakfast. When she wandered into the kitchen dressed and ready to face the day fifteen minutes later, she scolded him, "Why didn't you wake me last night so I could pack? Why did you let me sleep in?"

"I tried to wake you, but when you didn't respond, I decided that you would be better equipped to pack after a good night's sleep. And I didn't let you sleep in. I woke you before I left for rounds, but you fell back asleep. How do you feel?"

"My head feels a little stuffy, but otherwise okay. Is there any tea?"

He handed her a cup and steered her to the table where he placed a boiled egg and some toast in front of her. "Eat. We need to leave as soon as you can get you bags packed."

"Yes. I will ... but there's no need to bark at me."

"No." He hung his head slightly, but couldn't help but add, "If you hadn't drunk so much wine last night we wouldn't be running so late this morning."

She slammed her spoon down hard on the table and stared out the window away from him, but held her tongue. There wasn't time this morning for a row. There would be plenty of time to sort all this in the car on the way to Cornwall.

And sort it they did. After several tense hours of packing and loading the car, they pulled into London traffic. Traffic was heavy, but by the time they reached the M4, Lizzie finally stopped crying and an uneasy quiet settled over the car. Martin spoke first, "You're angry with me."

"Only because you're angry with me."

"Can you agree that getting drunk last night was a stupid thing to do?"

"Okay, firstly, I wasn't drunk. Yes I did have a few too many glasses of wine, but I was only a little bit squiffy, not drunk. Secondly ... " She turned to face him, "I went out with my friends because I need them to help me find a job so I can move to London to be with _you_. Thirdly, I was tired from a very long busy week so I didn't have time to pack beforehand. I would have hoped you would understand ... and you know I don't like it when you yell at me."

"I only yell at you when you don't listen."

Louisa took in a deep breath, let it out in a huff, and looked out her window. Why did she always have to be the peacemaker?

A few minutes later she turned in his direction, "Can we start over?"

He glanced at her briefly, sorrow etched all over his face. He feared that he had already lost her. "Yes."

"I will acknowledge that I didn't manage my time as effectively as I should have this week and that it is my fault that we got such a late start ... but ..." She looked over at him with a gentle smile, "but you have to admit part of it was your fault."

"My fault?"

"Yes, if you hadn't asked me to marry you, I wouldn't have spent so much time daydreaming this past week and I would have finished my work sooner and had more time to pack Thursday night."

"Ahh ... Right." A small grin passed over his face as he remembered the previous weekend. He had spent not a few hours "daydreaming" himself this past week. She had apologised. Perhaps he should make a concession as well. He glanced back at her. "I could have been more understanding."

She leaned over to give him a kiss. "Thank you."

"Aunty Joan was planning to bring a casserole over for our dinner this evening. I need to call her and let her know we will be arriving later than planned." He reached over to the car's console and punched in her phone number.

"Good. After that can we make a stop? I need the loo."


	78. Chapter 78

**Chapter 78**

The first symptom began almost immediately upon his return to London, mild nausea at the sight of his patients' blood as he yielded the blade Tuesday morning. He thought, hoped, it would pass, but it seemed to worsen as the week progressed and when he had to brace himself against the operating table when he suddenly felt faint on Friday morning, it was obvious he needed help.

He did some research about the causes of haemophobia and discovered that most cases appeared after some traumatic incident, which could have occurred just prior to the onset of symptoms or much earlier, often in childhood with some more recent event triggering the haemophobia. He hadn't experienced any recent traumatic event; and he knew he had had a very healthy childhood; hadn't he told Ruth this exact same thing after Louisa left him for Spain? And her response ... that he was a vulnerable and sensitive four year old boy who had all but shut down by the time he was six years old, something to do with the remoteness of his father and the coldness of his mother. Was there any truth to that or was it again just a figment of his imagination? Could his parents' indifference really lead to haemophobia in adulthood? He had no idea.

He knew he wasn't afraid of blood, couldn't be, it was a constant in his life as a surgeon. He loved being a surgeon and being a surgeon was all about dealing with blood on an everyday basis, but for some reason he was beginning to have vasovagal response symptoms in theatre. Thank god he hadn't actually vomited or fainted, but fearing that he might be developing haemophobia, he decided to confide in Aunt Ruth, ask for her assistance in finding a therapist to help him prevent a full blown case.

She was surprised when he called her to have brunch the Sunday after he returned from Cornwall. They were to meet in an upscale restaurant near her flat which specialized in elaborate weekend offerings; he had arrived early and requested a table in a more secluded area of the dining room. He was watching for her and signalled to her as she entered. After exchanging the usual perfunctory greetings and examining the menu, they placed their order with the waiter, Martin startling Ruth even more by opting for something decadent, eggs Benedict, whilst Ruth, after debating among several items, settled on steak and eggs with a side of beans and toast. Both requested a cup of espresso immediately.

Ruth got straight to the point. "Martin, I am delighted to see you, as always, but somewhat surprised. We had brunch just two weeks ago when you and Louisa gave me the happy news. Can I expect to start seeing you on a more regular basis now?"

"Um ... no ... mmm." Martin fiddled with his spoon while he pondered how much he would need to tell his aunt of his problems. "Actually, I asked you here for your help."

"Well, I'm not sure I can be of much help in planning a wedding. You _are_ still planning to wed in Cornwall?"

"Yes ... in Cornwall, in December. And no, we won't need your help; Louisa and Joan will be doing most of the planning as they are on site. We set the date with the vicar while I was down there." He paused and took a sip of his espresso.

Ruth gave him one of her wry smiles. "You know, Joanie is over the moon. I spoke with her right after you gave her the news. In fact, she has called me twice in the past week to discuss the plans."

"Yes, she brought a casserole over to Louisa's cottage the night we arrived back in Portwenn, and we broke the news to her then. She was quite overcome with emotion. I was surprised that you had not told her."

"Not my news to tell ... although I was tempted. She gave me quite a tongue-lashing on the phone that night for keeping it from her." Ruth was still not certain that this marriage was a good idea, but she knew to keep her thoughts to herself, at least for the moment. She had held off phoning Joan for just that reason. And when she did talk with Joan that night and let slip some of her reservations, Joan reacted just as she had feared, calling her a wet blanket and other more colourful appellations.

"Mmm ... right."

"And now she wants me to help her find just the right "Mother of the groom" dress for the wedding, as if I have any idea about these things. I imagine she'll insist I wear an "Aunt of the groom" dress as well, if there is such a thing." She picked up her cup, holding it under her nose and breathing in the scent of the strong brew. She raised her eyes to Martin and screwed up her mouth, "Will you invite your parents?"

"Absolutely not!"

"No, I didn't think so. Still ... they might want to know?"

"None of their concern."

"No." She paused for a moment as the waiter placed their meal before them. "Well ... back to the subject at hand, why _did_ you ask me to brunch?"

Martin poked at his eggs, wondering what had possessed him to order such an artery clogging meal. He took his knife and started to scrape some of the hollandaise sauce away before cutting into the egg. Martin was obviously not ready to talk and she was hungry, so Ruth cut into her steak and took a bite. "Mmm ... " She let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes, leaning back in her chair as she savoured the sensations that the tender and delicious rare cut of meat evoked. "This steak is delicious. Would you care for a bite?"

Martin took one look at the bloody juices pooling on her plate and had to quickly turn away, a look of distaste crossing his face. "Uh ... no ... thank you."

"Suit yourself. It really is delicious." She took another bite, chewing slowly, obviously relishing her meal. Holding her fork and knife above her plate, she asked expectantly, "Well?"

He looked up at her with a puzzled expression as he took another bite of his eggs.

"Really Martin, are you going to tell me why you asked me to this very delicious brunch, or not?"

He put down his knife and fork and sat up straight. Focusing on the flowers in the middle of the table, Martin broached the subject, "Yes ... uh ... I am concerned that I may be developing a minor anxiety disorder and I was wondering if you could recommend a reputable therapist."

Ruth studied him, his posture perfect as always, his expression solemn, nothing to outwardly indicate any anxiety; in fact he appeared to be very relaxed, but she knew him well enough to recognize an undercurrent of tension. His request was concerning and she thought to herself what effort it must have taken for him to admit to her that he was having some problems. She wondered if he had confided in Louisa, if it was just the usual pre-marital jitters or if there was something more behind his anxiety. She knew enough of his formative years to fear something more serious. Wisely keeping her thoughts to herself, she kept her response professional, "Certainly. What kind of anxiety disorder?"

Still staring at the flowers and taking sip of water, he replied, "Haemophobia ... perhaps. It makes no sense, but I have been experiencing vasovagal response symptoms to the sight and smell of blood, nausea, sweating, and light-headedness."

Ruth wasn't completely surprised at this turn of events, but she was nevertheless intrigued that her accomplished nephew should be developing this condition after years of surgery. "Oh, that _could_ be problematic given your line of work." How deep should she probe, she wondered. "Has it come on suddenly or has it been evolving over a longer period of time?"

"Hard to say."

"Give it a try."

Martin took a deep breath and explained, "I may have had a hint of its onset more than a year ago, just with one patient but it never really developed and never occurred again. It was just before I met Louisa." He debated ... should he reveal the anxiety he experienced the week before he proposed ... and decided against doing so ... probably not relevant. He continued, "This past Tuesday morning, almost as soon as I made the incision on my first patient, I suddenly became nauseated; fortunately I did not vomit and I haven't ... yet. The symptoms intensified as the week progressed, and Friday morning, I felt faint and had to pause a few moments until my blood pressure returned to normal. I have been able to continue my work, but I fear it could worsen, hence my desire to consult with a therapist to prevent what could be a blow to my career."

"Yes, I see." Ruth recognised the serious consequences that the affliction could take on Martin's livelihood. "Let me make some calls and I'll give you a name tomorrow or Tuesday."

True to her word, Aunt Ruth came up with a talented therapist, Harold Parmeter. She spoke with him about Martin and his possible problem and made a tentative appointment for him when Harold indicated that he had an opening on the following Tuesday at half eleven.

Even though he had set the therapy in motion when he asked for Ruth's help, Martin was nonetheless nervous about consulting with a therapist, and was grateful that the man's office was a good half mile from his own. No need to incite speculation around hospital should someone on staff notice him entering the office of a therapist.

After the two men had introduced themselves, Martin began by describing his symptoms, the anxiety and the vasovagal response of dizziness and sweating along with the nausea. He briefly outlined what his research had told him regarding the causes of haemophobia and his belief that he had not experienced any of the common causes. He mentioned that he had tried relaxation exercises before a procedure, controlled breathing, to help relieve the anxiety that welled inside him as he picked up the blade, but that didn't seem to help reduce the nausea. He also asked about a technique he had discovered in his research last week that involved tensing one's muscles' during an attack to alleviate or prevent the fainting. He had tried the technique a few times during the week before his initial session with Dr. Parmeter and had found it marginally helpful.

Dr. Parmeter had done some research of his own and had learned a good deal about Martin's professional accomplishments, and was somewhat surprised that he should be experiencing this particular anxiety disorder after years of surgery. Perhaps it was just the culmination of years of work in a high stress environment or perhaps it was something else entirely. He was curious as to why it should appear now, but first he felt it necessary to discuss coping mechanisms with his patient. Desensitization was unlikely to help since Martin had exposure to blood on a daily basis. The tension exercise could alleviate some of the symptoms and they discussed an applied tension technique that had proved helpful to many patients with a fear of blood.

The therapist then asked Martin to tell him exactly when and how the symptoms had developed.

"Firstly I must say that I do not have a fear of blood, just that the symptoms appear when I am exposed to blood."

Parmeter nodded in understanding.

Martin debated as to the relevance of the severe anxiety he experienced the week before he proposed and decided it wasn't pertinent, no vasovagal response symptoms, and went straight to his recent experience.

"Hmm." Parmeter thought there was more going on here than simple haemophobia. "So last week was really the first time you've experienced any reaction to the sight or smell of blood?"

Martin sat rigid looking at the man, his hands folded neatly in his lap, deep in thought. Should he divulge his experience with Mrs. Smithson? He hated it when patients failed to divulge important information that would have been beneficial to a diagnosis. Best to mention the feelings, but no need to discuss the dream; it _really_ wasn't relevant. "I did have an odd experience about a year ago. I was to operate on a woman, a simple procedure, when for the first time I had a fear that I might have a reaction to her blood. The procedure went without complication, everything was as it should be and I had no vasovagal symptoms. Nothing else until last month. "

"That is odd. And you have no idea why you thought you might react to your patient's blood?"

"No."

"And recently you have developed these symptoms with no idea why." The doctor paused to think for a moment and then posed the question, "Anything of significance happen recently? Did you witness any accidents or did you see something on the news that troubled you? Any changes in your life or lifestyle, anything new at all that might have triggered this problem? "

"No, nothing traumatic that would trigger haemophobia. The only real change in my life, and I can't see how it is related, is that I am to be married later this year."

"Congratulations. When's the wedding?" A slight smile crossed the doctor's face as he thought how planning a wedding and getting married were certainly stressful and frequently traumatic.

"December." A troubled look crossed Martin's face, very briefly, but the therapist noticed it.

"Perhaps you are anxious about the wedding and that anxiety is manifesting itself in the haemophobia."

"Unlikely."

"Perhaps not, but worth exploring. Getting married is a significant life changing event, one very likely to cause stress." The therapist set his notebook down. "Unfortunately our session today is at an end. I'd like you to practice the tension exercise when you begin to react to blood. See if it helps. Shall we continue at the same time next week? I can help you manage the symptoms to some degree, but it would be best if we could determine the underlying cause to eliminate the condition completely. It could be that some recent event or experience has triggered the memory of a traumatic event in the past or some fear or experience that is only tangentially related to blood."

The following week, they discussed his first odd hint of haemophobia, his experience with the patient more than a year earlier, how he had been struck by her family's agitation and concern for her welfare. He was unable to explain why that had led him to fear developing haemophobia.

They then discussed the events surrounding his first full fledged reaction after his return from Portwenn. Martin couldn't see the need, but he recounted the events from the prior weekend in Portwenn including the meeting he and Louisa had with the vicar and the vicar's insistence that they participate in pre-marital counselling sessions with him as a condition to the church blessing ceremony that Louisa had her heart set on. Martin scoffed at the topics the vicar wanted to discuss; it was obvious to Parmeter that Martin was uncomfortable with what he derisively referred to as an ordeal. He thought they might be getting somewhere, although he needed Martin to recognize the connection.

Martin began the third session by declaring that he was managing the symptoms completely with the applied tension technique and that he did not see any need to continue with the therapy. Dr. Parmeter indicated that he was pleased to hear of Martin's progress, but since they still had the bulk of the hour remaining, he thought it would be beneficial to discuss the possible link between Martin's recent engagement and the haemophobia. Martin was resistant, not inclined to discuss his relationship with Louisa with anyone, even his therapist. Dr. Parmeter was understanding, and explained to Martin that even though he had gained control of the haemophobia, it could recur if he didn't resolve the underlying issues leading to its development. He felt that discovering the source of his affliction was important and he reassured Martin that anything said in the privacy of his office remained private and was subject to doctor patient confidentiality.

Reluctantly Martin gave a brief outline of his initial encounter with Louisa and their courtship, and their ultimate engagement.

"It sounds like you are both very happy, very lucky to have found each other."

"Mm ... yes."

Martin's words were positive but his body language told another story, one that Dr. Parmeter thought would be helpful to explore. "How do you feel about your upcoming wedding and marriage?

Martin let out a loud sigh and then groaned forcefully, "Good God, why must we always talk about feelings?" He rose and turned toward the door, leaning over the back of the chair and breathing heavily.

Dr. Parmeter remained silent, giving Martin time to compose himself and gather his thoughts. Here was a man who resisted introspection; he needed some time to put his feelings into words.

"Very well!" He huffed and fell back into the chair, "We went to a formal hospital social event the weekend before I proposed, and during the course of the evening, Louisa indicated that she would accept me if I were to ask her to marry. That next Monday I had to endure all sorts of comments from colleagues about how beautiful and charming she was. No one could resist asking why she was with me, a miserable old bugger if ever there was one, and on and on. The more I thought about it, the more I realised that they were right, that she should be with someone more suitable to a vivacious younger woman, and that ultimately she would realise my true nature and leave me. I was consumed with doubt and started to withdraw from her."

Martin took a breath and stared at the books lining the shelves of the doctor's office. In a moment he continued quietly" ... by the end of the week, I realised that I couldn't bear to be without her, that I needed her in my life. I proposed and she accepted my proposal." He hung his head in what seemed to be agony.

Quite a diatribe from this usually taciturn man, and rather than ending his soliloquy sounding happy at her acceptance, he sounded defeated. But there was one phrase that really caught the doctor's attention, "Your true nature. What is it you think is your true nature Martin?"

Martin was startled, but responded with disgust, "Odious ... disagreeable, unpleasant, despicable, antisocial, defective, and unlovable. Do you want me to continue?"

"I understand. Yet, she wants to marry you."

"Yes, she swears that she loves me, but how can she?"

Both men sat quietly for a minute. The session was coming to an end, but Dr. Parmeter knew they were closing in on the trigger for Martin's blood phobia and he convinced Martin to continue with their discussions for at least a few more sessions.

As Martin continued his weekly sessions with Dr. Parmeter, they explored his past and his concern about his ability to make Louisa happy. When Dr. Parmeter asked if he had discussed his anxiety and his nascent haemophobia, with Louisa and that he was seeking therapy, Martin admitted he had not. The doctor strongly suggested he make her aware of it; if he thought it would help, he suggested Martin bring her to one of his sessions before they married.

It was mid-term, the end of October and she was in London for the weekend and most of the following week. She had several job interviews lined up for the spring term, and she and Holly, who was also on break, had scheduled several afternoons to shop for a wedding dress. In addition, she and Martin were scheduled to have dinner with Simon and Joyce and an important hospital benefactor Thursday evening. It would be a very full week.

Louisa and Martin had spent all day Saturday wandering Kew Gardens enjoying the scarlets of the maples, the golds of the ginkgos, and the blaze of the autumn blooming perennials planted in profusion around the lakes and the Palm house. They had a quiet lunch of leek and potato soup at the Orangery, and then visited the glass houses which reminded Louisa of the Eden Project, only on a much smaller scale. They still enjoyed cooking meals together and had prepared a pork roast with potatoes and other autumn root vegetables with an apple and cinnamon compote for afters. As they settled with their tea on the sofa prior to preparing for bed, Martin introduced the topic he had been avoiding all day.

"Louisa, um ... are you free Tuesday at lunchtime?"

"I think so. Let me think. I've an interview Monday morning and then I'm having lunch with Holly and then she and I are going to shop for a dress."

"A dress?"

"Yes ... you know, a wedding dress. Alicia and I looked in Truro, but I couldn't find exactly what I want. Tuesday, I have another interview in the morning, and I was planning a visit with Amy and Gina for lunch after that and then more shopping in the afternoon, but nothing is definite, Why?"

"Do you remember when I told you about my dream? How I developed haemophobia and had to leave surgery and become a GP?"

"Yesss?" She wasn't sure she liked where he was going with this.

"Uh. I don't want you to worry. I haven't developed haemophobia, but I have been seeing someone just in case. And he has suggested that, whilst you are in town, it would be beneficial for you to join me in my next session."

"Just in case? Just in case of what? Why? Who are you seeing?" This revelation was confusing. She had learned that Martin frequently tried to tell her things without actually communicating the subject at hand. What was he trying to tell her?

"A therapist Aunt Ruth recommended."

"I don't understand. Why are you seeing a therapist if there's nothing wrong?" She kept her tone calm and quiet, still trying to comprehend exactly what he was getting at.

"You know I worry that I won't make you happy. I just felt I needed assistance sorting things out. And the doctor felt it might be helpful if you understood what we are trying to accomplish, hence the reason for you to accompany me to my appointment."

"I've told you that I believe that you will make me very happy. Isn't my word enough?"

"Apparently not. I was beginning to manifest symptoms of an anxiety disorder." He could see worry crease her forehead even though she said nothing and he decided to elaborate. "Symptoms of possible haemophobia."

"Oh, Martin." She looked into his eyes sympathetically. "How long have you been seeing this man?"

"Not long ... once a week since the beginning of last month."

"I see." She took a sip of her tea. "Is it helping?"

"Yes. Yes, I believe it is."

"Good." She caressed his cheek with her fingertips and laid her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arm around his chest.

He was relieved that she had not pressed him for more details, the memories he had buried years ago that were surfacing as he talked with Dr. Parmeter, the hurt he experienced as an unwanted child, his sense of alienation at boarding school, and ultimately his fear of losing her. It had been a difficult exercise, painful.

Martin had thought his doctor would lead the discussion with Louisa in the room, but Dr. Parmeter had counselled him that it was more appropriate for Martin to tell Louisa why he had sought therapy and what he hoped to accomplish with it. Dr. Parmeter would only interrupt if Martin asked for his help or if he thought it was important to clarify the process. After Martin repeated what he had already told Louisa, the doctor added how it was frequently the case that haemophobia had its roots in some traumatic event or experience which could have occurred at any time in the patient's life, but often in childhood. He and Martin had been exploring Martin experiences as a child to see if there were any such events that would now be manifesting themselves, and if so he hoped to help Martin understand those events so that he could put them behind him once and for all.

When he asked Louisa if she had any questions, she turned to Martin and asked him if he had discussed his dream with the doctor. When he shook his head, the doctor looked at them both, "Martin?"

"It's not relevant."

Louisa spoke up, "Martin, I think it may be. I think you should tell him about that dream."

Reluctantly and with as few words as possible, Martin gave him the short version of his dream and how it had led to his meeting Louisa.

"When did you have this dream?"

"Mm ... a while back, last summer."

Dr. Parmeter mentally made the connection between this dream and Martin's initial fear of haemophobia and wanted to explore it further, but now was not the time, not with Louisa present. "Yes, I believe Louisa was right to bring that up. Martin and I may have to discuss it further, but it undoubtedly relates in some way to the underlying cause of your symptoms."


	79. Chapter 79

Chapter 79

Louisa had had a sense that something was bothering Martin although there was nothing specific she could put her finger on. He wasn't distant as he had been the week before he proposed; it was more that he seemed distracted. When she mentioned it to him on his visit to Portwenn in early October, he gave her a puzzled look and assured her he was fine. As he was more than happy to take her in his arms for a long private dance after dinner each evening, she let the worry pass.

So it was that on her next visit to London, when he told he was seeing a therapist, she wasn't totally surprised, but the fact that he was experiencing symptoms of haemophobia was disturbing. If he were not able to defeat this demon, it would be a true blow to his self-esteem and she wasn't certain if she would be able to help him. If his dream were to come to fulfilment and he ended up as the GP in Portwenn or some other small village, she could certainly accept that, but only if _he_ were able to make peace with the change in his career. She would love him whether he was a high flying London surgeon or a humble country GP, but she prayed, for his sake, that it wouldn't come to that.

After their meeting with Dr. Parmeter, they grabbed a quick lunch at a local café. During lunch she thanked him for sharing his problem with her, hoping he would reflect on their session while they ate, but this was Martin Ellingham after all and he just grunted an acknowledgement and returned his attention to his meal. They finished their lunch in silence, each lost in thought. Afterwards Martin returned to his office for afternoon consultations and Louisa took a taxi over to visit her friend Amy.

As she sat in the taxi on the way to Amy's, she mulled over Martin's condition. She was worried about him, the anxiety that he was experiencing, and she desperately wanted to discuss it with a friend. But as she thought about it, she realized that he had opened his heart to her with this revelation. In some way, the disclosure of his emotional turmoil was an intimate act, one he shared with her as his future wife. This was the first of many confidences they would share as husband and wife, and she felt closer to him now than she had just hours earlier. No, she couldn't break his confidence and discuss it with Amy, or Holly, or even Joan when she returned to Portwenn.

Playing with baby Gina helped take her mind off this new development, and she had a good visit with Amy. They hadn't seen each other since August and there were so many things to catch up on. Gina had grown and changed more than she could have imagined during the last two months, sitting up by herself, reaching for her toys, and smiling and "talking" nonstop. Amy had returned to part-time work in September and she chatted away about the challenges her new clients presented, and eventually admitted that she missed Gina during the days that she was working. She was certain that Gina couldn't have better care since her mother doted on the baby, but how would Gina fare once she was in the nursery when she returned to full time work after the holidays. She wasn't sure what she would do if Gina didn't settle in with the other children. She had to work. Staying home with Gina wasn't an option.

As she listened to Amy confide her feelings about being a working mum, Louisa thought to herself how lucky she would be to have Martin, her solid dependable Martin as her children's father. She could stay home with her children if she wanted, in fact Martin would prefer that she do that. But she also knew he would support her decision to work if that was what she thought was best for their family. She would have the option to decide what was best for her; not many mothers had that choice. The thought of Martin's blood phobia crossed her mind; if he were no longer a surgeon, would she have the option to stay at home with the children while they were young or would she have to work? Not that it mattered, she thought, as she knew she wanted to continue to teach; it was what she loved to do ... but it would matter to Martin. Again she prayed he would be able to defeat the haemophobia.

As she made her way back to their flat, she wondered if any of Martin's misgivings were the result of the counselling sessions they were having with the vicar. After her summer in London, after he had driven her back to Cornwall and helped her get settled back into her cottage, Martin stayed in the village the following Monday morning so that they could meet with the vicar to request that he bless their marriage. He confirmed that he would not be able to marry them in the church, but he would be more than happy to bless their union, provided that they meet with him for four counselling sessions beforehand. They agreed and set a date for mid December. Louisa could tell by the deepening of his scowl that Martin was not pleased at the thought of sitting through lectures from the vicar, but she reminded him that the church ceremony was important to her so he relented.

Louisa found the sessions with the vicar enlightening. He started out by discussing how marriage was a commitment they were making to each other, a commitment to stand by each other, not just in the good times, but also in the dark and difficult times because those times would come as they did for every married couple. The vicar made them talk about their expectations regarding children, how they would handle finances, household chores, social engagements, and even sexual relations and he counselled them on ways to communicate that were productive, not hurtful. He encouraged them to talk with each other about their dissimilarities and how they could handle their contrasting approaches to life. They didn't necessarily come to any conclusions, but it got them thinking and reflecting on it.

Louisa noticed that these discussions seemed to trouble Martin as he continued to worry that he wouldn't be able to make her happy because of their personality differences. Still it was a surprise to learn that he had been so concerned that he had consulted a therapist to help him sort it all out. That evening as they settled on the couch after they had done the washing up, she broached the subject hoping he would share some of the topics he and the doctor had discussed. Martin hemmed and hawed and finally explained that he wasn't ready to disclose anything, that he couldn't because he was still sorting it all himself.

He did clarify that he thought it important that she know he was struggling with haemophobia, that if he were unable to control it, his surgical career would be over and that would affect both their lives. In his most officious tone, he let her know that if she wanted to postpone the wedding or break off their engagement, he would understand. She was shocked at his offer, "Is that what you want? Is the thought of marriage to me so abhorrent that you have become sick because of it?"

"Nooo … nooo. Of course not. I just don't want you to feel trapped. I wouldn't be the man you thought I was. You told me that you loved me because I was a skilled surgeon."

"No Martin, no ... I fell in love with you because of the way you care for me, the way you make me feel so special; and because of the way you care for other's needs, and how much you care for Joan. I fell in love with your quiet steadiness, and I admire how you step in when you notice someone is struggling and calmly take care of things."

She noticed his raised eyebrow and the sceptical expression on his face, "Okay, sometimes not so calmly ... But your care enough to help. I even love the way you get angry when people do stupid things that can hurt them."

"Humph!" he snorted, thinking to himself, "_She can't possibly mean that._"

She smiled to herself at his gruff reaction and then reached over and kissed him softly on the lips, "Even now, you are suffering, yet you are thinking of me, and it makes me love you more." She smiled softly to herself and ran her fingers over his chest, then with a twinkle in her eye murmured, "I especially love our tender moments." She paused for a minute, and looking down, she added, "Your skill as a surgeon and your stature in the British medical community is just icing on the cake, so to speak."

He nodded his head slowly, "Mmm ... right. But I may not be able to support you and any children we may have in the manner to which you had expected."

She picked up his hand and rubbed his palm, "Martin, I told you once before that I can support myself. I didn't accept your offer of marriage because of your earnings potential. I accepted because I want to be with _you_." She decided that she didn't need to tell him that she had been thinking of just this possibility this afternoon. "We'll work this out together, just like we will work out any future troubles together. It's just like the vicar said; all marriages have their difficult times, their challenges. This is our first and we will get through it together just as we will weather all of them together, you and me, a team."

He gazed at her earnest face, still certain that he didn't deserved such an understanding woman, but ever so grateful that she was by his side and he reached up to caress her cheek and gave her lips a delicate kiss, "Right."

'Just right, Martin?"

"No ... good"

"Good." She snuggled into his side, and he wrapped his arm around her. Although he hadn't shared any more information than what had transpired in the therapist's office, she noticed he seemed more relaxed and less distracted than he had in the past month and more like the quietly companionable Martin she cherished. Obviously he had revealed all he was able for the moment; he was continuing to sort it, and she would have to wait and let him share anything more in his own time.

Before Martin came home from hospital that evening, she had done a quick search for information on Dr. Parmeter and found that he was highly regarded. Of course that would be the case. Ruth would refer him only to the best. Ruth ... she wondered if she could confide in Ruth. It was tempting; after all Martin had confided in Ruth at the beginning. But again, Louisa sensed that she would be betraying Martin by discussing this with anyone else. Perhaps she could casually ask Joan about Martin as a child, about his parents. Joan had already told her, more than once, that they weren't very nice, but refused to go further, only saying she should ask Martin. He was no more forthcoming than Joan. She may never know.

In the meantime, the search for the perfect wedding dress continued and the shopping trip Wednesday afternoon proved successful. She found the dress she had been looking for, a simple and elegant silk damask sheath with a slightly flared long skirt and long sleeves. There was a subtle rosebud motif woven into the fabric that shimmered when the light fell on it in a certain way; it was beautiful. The bateau neckline was softly scalloped as were the hems on the skirt and sleeves. The electric heaters they were planning to hire for the church would merely take the chill out of the air, not warm it up, so she needed a dress that would keep her warm during the short service.

Now that she had found the dress, she needed to finalize the guest list, and she sat down with Martin after dinner that night to encourage him to help. "Really Louisa, can't we keep the guests to a minimum? I'd like to ask Chris and Michelle obviously, and Ruth and Joan. I think that should suffice." He was fearful that the wedding might evolve into an extravaganza like the one they attended in February. "I'd really prefer a quiet ceremony."

"I do understand, but I plan to invite the staff from school, and many of my friends from the village. So ... What about your colleagues? I think it would be prudent to ask Simon and any others you work with directly on a day to day basis. You could limit it to those in your office or just those in your department, certainly not the entire hospital staff ... obviously. And it would be considerate to ask Morwenna, Miss Newcross. I would like to ask her."

"Louisa, I really don't see the need. It's a long way to Cornwall; and none of them are likely to come in December when it will be cold and rainy."

"Perhaps they won't, but it would be a nice gesture. I know that you don't consider any of them to be close friends, but you do work with them day to day. I have come to know many of them and their partners, and we will socialize with them in future. I think it would be nice to include them. If nothing else, even if they don't come, they will be flattered to be invited and it could make your life in hospital more rewarding."

"Humph." Pretending to be interested in others' families, socializing, was exactly the kind of thing he had managed to avoid all those years before Louisa. It really wasn't essential to his work. But it was essential that Louisa have a social life if she was to have a chance at happiness with him in London. Reluctantly he accepted her request and gave her the names of several staff members to invite and Louisa agreed to work with Morwenna to get the names of their partners and addresses. Then she asked the most difficult question, "What about your parents?"

"No."

"No? Don't you think they would want to be present when their only child is married?"

"No. I don't want them there. They are not be notified of the wedding."

She gave him a perplexed look hoping for more explanation.

"No."

His tone was so strident that she knew not to push him. It saddened her to think how badly they must have hurt him if he felt so strongly against inviting them. He had told her they spent very little time with him as a child, something she would never understand, but there must be more than mere indifference that would make him shut them from his life. Would he ever share that deeper hurt with her? Perhaps that was what Martin and Dr. Parmeter were exploring. She wondered. But how could parental disregard lead to haemophobia. It didn't seem likely. It was a complete puzzle to her.


	80. Chapter 80

**Chapter 80**

Thursday, her last full day in London was very productive. She had the last of the interviews with the four different primary schools that had openings in the upcoming term. Whilst each had indicated strong interest in her CV, none had actually made an offer ... yet. She found that there was one school she preferred above all others, one that was just a few tube stops from Martin's flat. Both Holly and several of her friends from this summer had good things to say about the school. She was hopeful. The current maths teacher was going on maternity leave for all of spring term; in talking with her during her tour of the school, Louisa sensed that she was leaning toward staying home with her baby after the end of her Statutory Maternity Leave. Even if she were to return, Louisa was certain that another opportunity would likely present itself and if she were lucky, she herself would be expecting by then.

After her interview, she picked up a sandwich at the local shop and took it over to their neighbourhood park and settled onto a bench where she could relax and enjoy the late October weather while she ate her lunch. It was a busy park and she felt comfortable there. There were two old men reading their newspapers near the entrance, and there were two elderly women in exercise gear walking briskly around the perimeter along with several nannies pushing babies in their prams past the flower beds. A thirty something mother sat reading a book, only looking up when one of her two young children playing with a ball near the fountain called out. Louisa hoped it would be only another year or two before she joined the ranks with her own baby asleep in his pushchair as she strolled on the pavement or relaxed in the shade of the giant plane trees. How different life would be then; she marvelled at the change that her chance encounter with Martin in hospital last year had wrought. She closed her eyes and turned her face to warm in the sun; soon it would be winter and these brisk afternoons would be just a memory.

She was jostled out of her reverie when the children's ball flew onto her leg. The oldest of the boys ran over to pick up his toy and he nodded her way, "Sorry Miss". Mum hadn't even noticed; she was deep in a conversation on her mobile. Louisa gave the boy a brief smile and replied, "No harm done". She glanced down at her watch and realised it was time to go, so she gathered her things and walked to the edge of the park where she tossed her sandwich wrapper into the bin.

She and Martin were scheduled to have dinner with Simon and Joyce and a potential hospital benefactor that night so she didn't need to pick up anything for dinner, but she headed towards the grocer anyway. She had an early train to catch back to Cornwall the next morning and she wanted to pack something to eat on route. She picked up a container of cut-up fruit and some cheese that would pair well with the whole meal crackers she had stored in Martin's cupboard. The grocer was located on the edge of the neighbourhood commercial district which was small, just two blocks long. Except for the two cafes and grocery that she and Martin frequented, she hadn't really spent much time at the various shops. She had picked up a few things in the chemist once or twice, but hadn't really taken the time to explore the area.

She wandered down the block and discovered a large selection of shops that she knew she would frequent in future. There were several banks, a cleaners with a tailor on site, a shoe repair, a book store, a beauty salon, a children's' clothing shop and a florist, and two mobile phone stores. On the other side of the street, there were several accountants and a solicitor's office. She stopped briefly to look in the window of what appeared to be an antiques shop which could be fun to explore once she moved to London permanently. As she strolled on, she discovered the best shop of all, an authentic patisserie, located right next to the bakery where she had purchased some wonderful bread once or twice. How had she failed to notice the other side of the shop? Unable to resist, she went in and marvelled at the tempting selections on offer. She selected two pastries that looked absolutely delectable, one for a snack that afternoon and one to take with her on the train in the morning. She was delighted to have found such a wonderful shop just a few blocks from the flat. She was certain it was not a shop Martin would ever patronise ... his loss ... she wouldn't let his health obsession prevent her from an occasional indulgence.

After she returned home, she pulled out the guest list and sent Morwenna an e-mail asking for information on the hospital invitees. After that, she packed up her laptop and paperwork and then pulled out her travel bag and packed everything except her dress for the evening's dinner and the clothes she would wear on the morning train. With that done, she lay down for a short nap. She wanted to be at her best for dinner and for her last night with Martin.

For Martin, the evening out was tedious, as all these evenings were. For Louisa, the evening was a pleasant diversion. She enjoyed meeting new people and the potential donors were quite engaging. Martin had given her a brief description of the couple, a husband and wife team, Marcel and Tasmin Lambert, software engineers. They had started a tech company a number of years ago and had made a fortune in the video game industry. Her father had been one of Martin's patients a little over a year ago. They had begun to dabble in philanthropy and were curious about the research that was being done in the hospital.

They arrived at the posh restaurant a few minutes before their guests and were greeted by Simon and Joyce when the maitre d' escorted them to their table. It gave Martin and Simon some time to review the finer points of tonight's discussion and it gave Joyce a few minutes to congratulate Martin and Louisa on their engagement and for her to "ooh and aah" over the ring. "Have you set a date yet?"

"Yes, December, the 11th, in Portwenn ... and you're both invited of course," Louisa burbled happily.

"Wonderful. I'll put the date into our diaries. We wouldn't miss it for the world." Joyce replied.

Louisa nodded her head with a sigh, "Yeah, of course I've absolutely got to get the invitations out by the end of next week. Lots to do before the big day." She grinned at Joyce. "It will mean Martin will be away from hospital for over two weeks. He's concerned about that, but I think I've convinced him that they will manage without him."

Joyce laughed, "I'm almost surprised he agreed to be away for more than a long week-end. Where are you planning to honeymoon?"

"I don't know. Martin is planning our getaway and he wants it to be a surprise. He assures me that I will be quite happy. We'll only be gone for a week and a half; we'll return to Portwenn for Christmas and Boxing Day before we pack up most of my things to move to London."

"Are you planning to sell your cottage, or keep it for holidays? Either way it's going to be a big change for you."

"We'll keep the cottage for long weekends and holidays. I might let it out during weeks when I'm not going to be down. We haven't decided just yet." She sighed and gave Joyce a sad smile. "I will miss the village though, the people. You're right, it will be a big change."

Joyce returned a sympathetic smile, "Yes, I can imagine. Have you made plans for next year, what you will do once you're here full time? Do you plan to continue teaching?"

"Yes. In fact, I had several interviews this week, and I'm quite hopeful that one of the schools will make an offer. Maths teachers are usually in high demand."

Just then their guests arrived. They were an attractive couple, perhaps in their mid thirties and for once in London, Louisa felt a bit over-dressed. She had worn the navy dress she had purchased for the fundraiser earlier in the year with the necklace Martin had given her. Both potential donors were dressed casually, Marcel in a loose-fitting hunter green jumper and dark slacks, and Tasmin in an equally loose cranberry knit jersey dress with matching tights and ballet flats with a necklace of assorted highly polished sea shells. Louisa wondered if Martin had noticed Tasman's shoes; they would undoubtedly meet with his approval.

After the introductions were made, Tasmin turned to Louisa and commented, "You're not from London are you? I can't quite place the accent."

Louisa wasn't sure how to answer, partially offended that her accent should be a topic of conversation, and partially anxious should Martin be embarrassed that she wasn't a sophisticated Londoner. She turned towards him and without missing a beat, Martin responded, "Louisa is Cornish. I have family in Cornwall as well."

Tasmin started to gush, "Oooh, I've never been, but I hear it is just a beautiful part of the country. You'll have to tell me all about it." Turning to Marcel, she said, "Honey, we'll have to put it on our list."

Louisa nodded her head, beaming, "Yes, you really should visit. It's beautiful, spectacular actually. I'm partial to North Cornwall where my village is, but really all of Cornwall is just lovely."

"Do you get back there often?"

Louisa looked at Martin as he shrugged his shoulders. "Actually I live there. I'm a teacher and I'm just in town for term break. I head back tomorrow morning."

Tasmin was immediately sympathetic, "Oh ... long distance relationships; they're the worst. Marcel and I did that for a few years –he was in Calais and I was here in London."

Marcel piped in with a subtle French accent, "She promised me she's marry me if I'd move here, and that did the trick. That's when we started our business."

"Actually Martin and I will be married in December and I plan to move to London. You are right about long-distance relationships; they are difficult. You can't make a life together when you live three hundred miles apart."

Louisa found that she quite liked this couple, at least as new acquaintances, "So it sounds like living in the same city has proved fruitful. I understand your business is quite successful. Can you tell us about it?"

Louisa performed her role as Martin's charming and engaging partner brilliantly, asking all the right questions about their business, how they had developed it and what they planned to do as an encore. Simon and Joyce also joined in, but it was Louisa's genuine interest that kept the evening going. Finally as they were finishing up their mains, the conversation turned to Martin's research. He was eloquent, and as usual concise, in describing the impetus for the research and what they were striving to accomplish. Louisa was fascinated; he occasionally offered up a detail in the evening when he told her about his day, but to hear him outline his research in such a cogent manner held her rapt attention. She realised as he was talking just how much he had to lose if he were not able to keep the haemophobia at bay. It made her shudder slightly, distracting Martin for a moment as he glanced her way; she gave him a soft smile and nod to indicate that she was fine, and he continued.

It was part way through his comments that Tasmin spoke up about the treatment Martin had given her father. He had been quite ill and his primary care doctor had referred him to Martin, telling them that he was the only London surgeon he would consider if he were in her dad's condition. Martin blushed and was about to say he was just doing his job, but Simon would have none of it. He confirmed that Martin was highly skilled, actually the best vascular specialist in the country, and he spent several minutes outlining Martin's accomplishments, which segued naturally into what additional resources the hospital needed to facilitate both current and anticipated research projects. When it came to the ways in which they could benefit the hospital, Simon presented several ideas, all of which intrigued the Lamberts.

It was late when they finally made their good-nights and arrived home, and Martin was feeling grumpy. It was really too late for their usual nightly cup of tea. After helping her off with her wrap, he grumbled, "It's late and we both have to be up early. I'm going to bed." He marched off to his room where he began to undress.

Taking her cue from Martin, Louisa went to her wardrobe in the spare room and hung up her dress. She wouldn't need it in Portwenn so there was no need to pack it up. Martin promised to send it to the cleaners the next time he sent his suits. She performed her evening ablutions and was in Martin's bed within ten minutes. He was already there, lying on his back staring up at the ceiling, hands folded across his chest with his bedside lamp clicked off.

As she crawled into bed and slid over to cuddle next to him, he groused, "I hate that we didn't have any time to ourselves tonight. Can you postpone your trip back until Saturday?"

'You know I can't. I should have gone back this afternoon, but I wanted to be with you tonight."

Martin grunted.

"I did. It was a very pleasant evening. I think it went well, don't you?"

"Hard to say. I'm sure Simon will be anxious to talk about it tomorrow ... Humph!"

Louisa slid her leg over his and snuggled closer reaching up to kiss his lips ever so lightly. "I enjoyed hearing you talk about your work. It sounds so incredible. I feel so proud to be with you. I still can't believe that you want me." She gently placed another delicate kiss on his lips, and despite the late hour, he wrapped both his arms around her and pulled her down for a kiss that was neither light nor delicate.


	81. Chapter 81

**Chapter 81**

Back in Portwenn, at the beginning of November, Louisa found her every spare moment occupied with wedding plans. The first item on her list was to post the wedding invitations before the end of the week. They really should have gone out whilst she was in London, but that time was spent working on the guest list. She met with Joan on Monday night to finalise the village invitation list and address envelopes. Both Joan and Alicia had been such a help with all the arrangements. She wasn't sure how she would have managed without them.

Whilst they were working together, she took the opportunity once again to ask Joan about her brother Christopher and his wife Margaret, Martin's parents. "I asked Martin if we could invite his parents and his answer was an adamant no. He wouldn't budge, said he didn't want them there. I just don't understand the whole situation Joan. What do you think? Do you think we should invite them? After all, his father is your brother."

"Yes he is and no, I don't think we should invite them. I'm not surprised that Marty refuses to invite them. Dreadful people."

"I _do_ understand, from what you told me after I first met Martin, that they were mostly absentee parents, but he _is_ their son. Wouldn't they want to know he was getting married?"

Joan looked at her intently, "I think you should just leave it Louisa. Respect Martin's wishes."

"Okay, I will, but I still don't understand. What is it that they have done that is so terrible? Can you give me any idea?" She was really at a loss. She liked both Joan and Ruth; how could their brother be so different? What had he done that made them despise him so, and his wife? Was it a long standing family feud? There had to be something in the past that had caused this family rift.

Joan could see her confusion. It wasn't her place to discuss Martin's early years, the neglect and abuse. She didn't know for certain what happened in the privacy of his parents' home, but she had strong suspicions. She didn't want to betray Martin's secrets, but Louisa was about to become his wife; she had a right to know something about the family into which she was marrying.

Joan sighed, "Yes ... well ... Christopher was always a bully. When he and I were children, he constantly bossed me around, threatening me if I didn't do exactly as he said. He never hit me mind you, but he usually made me take the blame for any of the mischief he got into. I really resented him then, and I still do. I haven't seen or spoken to him in years and couldn't be happier about it. So I'm biased against him. You need to know that for what I'm about to say."

She paused, both anger and sadness reflected in her face, and then continued, "I don't think Margaret and Christopher really wanted a child, and it's true that they spent as little time with Martin as possible, sending him off to boarding school as soon as he was old enough and sending him down to me for weeks, even months at a time before that. I think he was three the first time he came for a long visit to the farm. He was so cute, so curious, and remembered everything we told him ... just like a sponge he was, but you would expect that from Martin. He would follow me about the farm all day long, and he was thrilled whenever Phil would take him out on the tractor. You might find this hard to believe, but he would chatter on and on all during supper telling us what he saw and asking when he could go out again. We loved having him around."

She smiled as she thought back to those times when she and Phil felt like parents. "We would have kept him full-time if Christopher had let us, but his father had other plans for Martin. We were convenient child-minders when they were between nannies or when Martin was on break from boarding school, but we weren't a proper influence. Christopher's son was to be a gentleman, not a farmer."

Shaking her head, she continued, " Sorry I went off-track. Martin did indeed suffer from their neglect. I also suspect there was some physical abuse, although I don't know for certain. When he would first arrive for summer visits, when he was still little enough to need help in the bath, I would notice welts on his bottom and the back of his legs. When I asked Marty about it, he told me he was naughty and so Daddy had to punish him. Once when I asked what he did that was so naughty, he told me that he forgot to knock before going into his father's study. Another time, he said he wet his pants and made his mother angry. I remember several times when he would have an accident ... as all children do ... and he was terrified that I would be angry with him. It broke my heart. Of course I would just give him a hug to let him know it was okay and give him some dry clothes to change into."

She rested her chin in her hand and rubbed her lips in thought. "It was not uncommon for parents to physically discipline their children when we were little; a swat on the bottom to keep them in line was considered perfectly normal. But, the bruises I saw on Martin's little body were deep, not what would result from the usual spanking. As he got older, Marty would say he fell down the steps or tripped and fell in the playground or ran into a door when I noticed the odd bruise. He always had an explanation."

Joan sighed and walked over to the hob. As she poured more tea into her cup, she looked over at Louisa, "Want any more?"

Louisa shook her head no, and Joan returned to the table. "He wasn't the happiest of children as he grew older, but he seemed to enjoy being on the farm, and hated to leave, always begging me to stay. He would cling to my hand as we waited on the platform for the train to carry him back to London. The few times his father came to retrieve him at the end of a holiday, he would cower in his room, only coming out when it was time to get into the car. Perhaps I misinterpreted the signs, but if Marty doesn't want his parents at his wedding, I'm sure he has good reason."

Joan wiped away a tear at the thought of the rejection that precious little boy experienced. Louisa's eyes were filled with tears as well; in the years she had been teaching, she had seen the signs of abuse and heard the excuses often enough. "Thank you Joan. Perhaps someday Martin will tell me himself, perhaps not. And maybe you were wrong, but I suspect not. I've seen that type of thing with some of my students. And I won't press Martin any longer."

Joan pushed away from the table and heaving herself up, lumbered over to the dresser in the lounge, muttering as she rummaged through the drawers. "I know it's in here somewhere." She tossed several old ledgers from the bottom drawer onto the floor before she finally found what she was searching for. "Ah here it is." She lifted up a worn picture album and carried it over to the table where she and Louisa had been working and started to flip through the pages. "Would you like to see a picture of Martin's parents?"

"Oh yes." Joan turned the album around, slid it across the table and pointed to a snapshot of a young couple, he in an elegant suit and she in a glamorous tea length dress. They were gazing at each other in front of a grand garden. "This was taken in my parents' back garden right after their honeymoon. They were a handsome couple." Louisa stared at the photo, trying to see bits of Martin in his parents ... they both had full lips, although neither as full as Martin's. If his Dad's hair had been shorter, his ears might have been more prominent. His Dad was tall and his mother beautiful, almost regal, but cold looking ... or was that just her imagination?

Joan turned the page, "Here are a few pictures of Marty when he was little. He was just precious, at least I think he was."

Louisa scanned the pages, lingering over each picture as he aged from wrinkled newborn to a proper eleven year old. He was all smiles as a three year old holding a small kitten or sitting next to his Uncle Phil on the tractor; gradually the spritely three year old aged to a serious and wistful seven year old. There were no smiles after that, even when he was driving the tractor by himself at age ten. Louisa couldn't help but comment, "He was a beautiful child, wasn't he? But it looks like he hardly smiled once he got older. Do you have any pictures of him after this?"

"I have just the one from his medical school graduation. That is framed and sitting on my bedside table. Christopher wouldn't let him come down after his twelfth birthday."

"That was after his grandfather died?" Louisa remembered Martin telling her about his grandfather.

"Yes, yes it was, now that you mention it. My father was stern and unforgiving with his children, but with Martin, he was different ... took him under his wing so to speak. They had a special bond, and Marty took it hard when his grandfather died."

Louisa spontaneously reached over to the older woman and hugged her tightly, "Joan thank you so much for showing these to me. You can't know how much it means to me. Maybe I can get copies made once we get back from our honeymoon."

Joan reached over and took the album from Louisa and set it aside. "You're not going to get to that honeymoon if we don't get these invitations out. Back to work."

As the week wore on, Louisa pondered all that Joan had told her about Martin's treatment by his parents. It troubled her, and not just because of the anguish he must have felt as a child. Would he consider corporal punishment appropriate for their children? Children of abusers often became abusers themselves. She had seen it often enough in her small community. Despite his gruff manner, Martin seemed gentle to her, unlikely to use physical force on anyone. Hadn't he said as much to Ruth after his altercation with Dennis? He said that he didn't believe in physical violence, that he took an oath to heal people not hurt them. On the other hand, he did have a temper; she had only seen glimpses of it, but he was infamous for it, even Simon had chuckled about it when he heard about Martin's fight with Dennis. How would he manage his temper when faced with a two-year old in full meltdown? This was a topic they needed to address, but how could she bring it up, without making him suspicious?

The opportunity came sooner than she expected, unfortunately. Two of the year four boys, Billy Carlisle and Adam Wright as usual, broke into a fight during morning break time. She managed to stop them, but Adam seemed seriously hurt, groaning in agony. She called Michael to come take a look at him, and he discovered that the boy was covered in bruises, many of which were discoloured indicating that they were not recent injuries; they couldn't have resulted from his fight with Billy. When pressed for information, Adam broke down in tears, blubbering about his Dad and how he would be in such trouble if Doc Mike talked with his Dad. Needless to say, child protection was notified.

When Martin called that night, it was still foremost in Louisa's mind, and she felt compelled to discuss it with him. She described the incident and then wondered aloud how neither she nor his teachers had noticed that something was amiss? "Martin, I didn't see it, but Michael told me that he had welts and bruises all over his backside. He had to call protective services, and we called PC Billy Teague to help explain the situation to his parents. I felt so ... I don't know, angry at his parents, sad for Adam, helpless really. Michael tells me that Adam's parents will be required to attend anger management classes. Adam will be allowed to go home in a day or so when they are certain that things are stabilized, but child services will monitor the home situation for the foreseeable future." As she was talking, it occurred to her that Adam and Billy Carlisle were frequent sparring partners; could it be that Billy experienced similar treatment at home? She would have to keep an eye on him for any signs. "Martin, I just don't understand how a father could treat his son that way. Do you?"

He was letting her talk, barely listening, thinking about all that he and Harold had discussed during the last several sessions. In exploring the reasons behind Martin's fear that he did not deserve Louisa, Martin disclosed how his father frequently berated him for being less of a "man" than he should be, how he would never amount to much. He was still struggling with the disappointment his parents felt at having a son like him. No matter how hard he tried or how many accolades he earned, it had never been enough. He had never been able to earn their approval.

During one of these conversations, Martin had let it slip that his father had routinely used physical punishment to discipline him and that his mother frequently locked him in the cupboard under the stairs when he had done something to annoy her. Harold had indicated that the whippings Martin received may have been excessive. Martin had thought the punishment appropriate at the time because he had known no better. His therapist suggested that Martin try to recall the behaviour that resulted in his father's discipline and record the incidents in a log. As he reflected on the events, Martin found himself confused; was the punishment appropriate to the crime, or was it, as Dr. Parmenter suggested, excessive? He was still struggling, trying to understand.

He heard her question, but was unable to answer. His own memories were too raw. In his dream, James Henry had been a baby, still too innocent to misbehave or require any disciplinary action. When he thought of the family he and Louisa might have, he had never thought about an older child until he began to examine his own childhood. Suddenly he realised the family image he had carried in his mind was far too simplistic, and he began to reconsider. Did he really want to deal with naughty children? How would he respond to a disobedient child? Would he be able to control his temper when faced with a child who impulsively or intentionally defied his or Louisa's instruction? He had no idea. He had thought he and Louisa would have at least two or three years, hopefully longer before they had a child that would require any discipline, plenty of time to learn what to expect.

Now here was Louisa wanting to discuss child discipline. He had heard her question but he wasn't ready to answer. He considered signing off under the pretense of a need to review his notes for the morning's surgery, but that wasn't really a solution. Perhaps he could get away with a vague answer.

"Martin, are you still there?"

"Uh ... yes ... what?"

"How could a father beat a child so severely like that?"

"Um ... " He was now required to respond. Thank God she couldn't see the anxiety that this conversation had spawned throughout his body; he could feel himself shaking. He decided that his best approach would be to adopt a professional detached tone, "Louisa, not that long ago corporal punishment was considered appropriate discipline for unruly children. In fact when I misbehaved as a child, my father just gave me a slap with his belt or a table tennis bat, or both sometimes."

"And did that make you behave?" She asked with concern in her voice.

"Mm ... it made me cautious. You never wanted to upset Dad."

"Did you feel it was fair?"

Fair? He had never thought about it until recently. "It was not uncommon; many of the other boys experienced the same. And caning was common in school as well for talking in class, not turning in homework, passing notes, pretty much anything the master didn't like."

"Caning has been outlawed in all UK schools for ages now."

"Good. It was barbaric."

"So you _don't_ think corporal punishment is an appropriate way to discipline a child?"

He had been sitting at his desk during the call and now he stood and started to pace, "Ahem ... I don't really know ... perhaps under certain circumstances."

"Do you really think spanking or hitting a child is an effective discipline method?"

How could he answer that question? It was what he and Harold had been discussing for some time now. It made him fearful, wary of crossing his father. But truth be told he preferred the beatings to the verbal tirades, when his father would accuse him of being worthless, an embarrassment, a total failure, how he would never succeed at anything. He remained silent on his end of the line.

"Martin?"

"Yes?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"No."

"Well do you think spanking is effective?"

He let loose a long sigh and in an exasperated tone, replied "I don't know Louisa. How _should_ a child be disciplined? You tell me. My mother would lock me in the cupboard under the stairs. Is that effective?"

She was sensing impatience. Was that it, or was it something else. 'You know, this isn't a good topic to discuss over the phone, is it? It's one of those things we should discuss at some point, but it doesn't have to be tonight. Maybe we can continue this conversation when you come down next weekend."

He let loose another long sigh. His next trip to Portwenn was likely to be stressful with their wedding looming and all that entailed. They were to meet with the caterer to finalise the reception menu, and they would have their last session with the vicar. They were already deep into this discussion, and whilst his natural inclination was to postpone this conversation in the hope that it would disappear, he had learned that Louisa wasn't one to forget. They might as well get it over with. "No, no it's fine. It's just that I hadn't really thought about disciplining children. I always thought that would be your job."

"Oh Martin, it would be up to both of us. I won't _always_ be around when problems arise. We will need to agree on how we plan to discipline and then follow through when necessary, whichever of us is at hand."

Wistfully he thought out loud, "I would hope that we never have to spank our children. I don't think I could bear to hurt them. There must be better ways to teach right from wrong."

"There are. So you are telling me that you would never resort to giving a child a slap with your belt like your father did to you?" This was the question she had wanted to ask after hearing Joan's story. She tried to keep her voice even, wishing again they were having this oh so important conversation in person, not over the phone.

"Of course not." He was aghast. "How can you ask that? I am a doctor, a healer. It goes against my oath to harm another person. Violence in any form is abominable." He lowered his voice, "I could never hurt a child, especially not my own."

"Your father was a surgeon just like you, was he not? He took the same oath, yet he hit you."

"Mm, yes. But I am not like my father." Forcefully he reiterated, "I will never be like my father."

It finally occurred to him that she wanted assurance that their children, her children, would never be harmed by him. He did have a temper and never made an effort to resist expressing his anger at whoever happened to be in his way. He knew she was aware of this character flaw; she had even told him, just last month that she loved the way he railed against idiocy. He must comfort her fear. "Louisa, I know I can be impatient and I don't have the best control over my temper. I can also tell you that I know from personal experience how whippings can affect a child and I will never put my own children through that. I will also admit that I know nothing about disciplining children and will have to look to you for guidance. We will raise and guide them together."

As was often the case when Martin made a rare lengthy speech, she found herself in awe and she was close to tears. "Oh Martin. I wish we were together right now. I so want to hug you."

He had to admit he felt the same and he replied in a soft gentle voice, "Mmm ... yes."

"Less than six weeks."

"Yes."


	82. Chapter 82

**Chapter 82**

The string quartet hired for the wedding had been playing for twenty minutes when Martin moved to the front of the church together with the vicar and Chris, his best man. As they waited for Louisa to make her entrance, Martin stood stiffly with perfect posture, tall and imposing, his arms straight by his side, his hands balled. With a clouded expression on his face and his fingers twitching, you might be tempted to describe him as an anxious bridegroom, but he would quickly disabuse you of that idea. He was a husband waiting for his wife. He had been a bridegroom earlier that morning when he and Louisa had recited their vows in the registry office with only Chris, Michelle, Alicia, and Stefan in attendance. He was now her husband and he wasn't anxious at all, quite the opposite, he was relieved.

He merely had to endure this blessing ceremony that was so important to Louisa, and then the reception with God only knew how many villagers in attendance. He looked out at the congregation and saw that the church was packed, with guests lined up against the outer walls of the sanctuary. Why Louisa felt the need to invite half the village was beyond him. At least the village GP that Louisa had liked so much had gone back to America and wasn't in attendance. Chris had assured him that the new GP was highly qualified, of Cornish descent and committed to helping the people of the county. He had high hopes that the young doctor would make Portwenn his permanent home. Martin could only hope that he could trust Chris' assurance that Louisa and any children they might have would receive the best of care should they become ill or injured whilst visiting the village in future.

He and Louisa had discussed the guest list when she was in London at the end of October, and he was aghast at the number of villagers Louisa felt impelled to invite. "I have to invite all the staff at the school, and the school governors and my close friends. A small village like ours is like a family. It's hard to leave anyone out. And you know that Joan will want to invite all her close friends, especially those who knew you as a boy. But I'll try to keep it within reason, I promise." Martin had discussed the ever expanding guest list with Dr. Parmeter, Harold, who had advised him that there were some things not worth fighting over at the start of a marriage and the guest list was one of those things.

He had feared that his November visit to Portwenn would be stressful attending to last minute details with which Louisa would want his help. He had been pleased that all was in hand, the flowers ordered, the photographer hired, and the reception booked. Louisa and her friend Alicia had been busy and his only responsibility, in addition to his attendance at the last of the vicar's sessions, was to approve the reception menu.

The simple buffet provided by the hotel where they had booked the reception consisted of generally healthy options, grilled fish, a chicken curry and a lamb stew, all hearty selections appropriate to the time of year, with several healthy vegetable sides and whole meal rolls. On the other hand, all the puddings were to be served with clotted cream, even the fruit. Louisa had told him it wasn't negotiable. As his strenuous objections to the puddings went unheeded, he realised that his approval was merely a formality. Louisa had decided on the menu and she had no plans to change it at this late date. He made it clear that he would not be partaking of any of those desserts and hoped she would avoid them as well. Ultimately, he let the subject drop. It seemed that the menu was another of the arrangements that wasn't worth fighting over.

Despite his composure, despite his relief, and despite their official marriage that morning, he still had reservations about his suitability as a husband and he found himself mentally repeating the phrase he had come to rely on in the past month, "_I do deserve her. I do deserve her. She loves me and I do deserve her."_ As he had told Harold early on, he truly believed that he was unlovable, and that he didn't deserve the good things that had come his way, especially Louisa. There must have been something innately wrong with him if his own parents couldn't love him, and if they could find nothing good in him, how could she?

It took many sessions with Dr. Parmeter and hours of soul searching for him to accept that there was nothing wrong with him at birth. He observed their friends Thomas and Amy with their baby who had started teething in the past month and was irritable and whiny. They continued to love her even though she was cranky and fussy, accepting that it was just a phase. Was that when his parents had given up on him, or was it earlier?

He screwed up the courage to have a heart to heart talk with both Joan and Ruth about his childhood, wondering what he had been like as a baby and how his parents had coped with the sleepless nights that come with most newborns. They both confirmed that his mother had handed him off to a nanny as soon as they arrived home from hospital, only checking in on him once or twice a day to ensure he was progressing at an appropriate rate. Joan was less than charitable when she observed that his mother was much more interested in resuming her social life than in caring for her infant.

Martin was born just before Joan had met Phil. The pull of Cornwall was irresistible; but when she _was_ in town, she spent hours in the nursery cuddling Marty and playing with him, much to his mother's annoyance. Margaret fretted that she was spoiling him, and Christopher was of the school that thought a fussing infant should be left to cry it out in a closed room where he wouldn't disturb the adults. Ruth confirmed all that Joan had told him, adding that he was an adorable infant ... not that she would know an adorable infant from a homely one, but all their friends seemed to think he was "just the cutest thing."

He was still working on it, but he had come to accept that there wasn't any particular reason his parents found him objectionable; they weren't interested in their child and would have felt that way toward any child they brought into the world. He was beginning to realise that his feelings, a word he still hated, about being undeserving of Louisa had triggered his fear that he wasn't deserving of his career as a surgeon, that he wasn't deserving of anything, hence the development of the haemophobia, which if allowed to develop would take away the career he knew he didn't deserve.

At times, if he thought about it logically, the cause and effect of his parents' treatment made sense. At other times, it all seemed like so much psychological mumbo jumbo claptrap. It didn't really matter because he had started to feel more at peace with himself than he had in years. Even so, he knew that he still needed Harold's help to completely conquer the demons that had plagued him most of his life. The haemophobia had been at bay since late September, but Harold had cautioned him that they still had much to explore and that the phobia could reappear at any time, thus he was continuing with his therapy on a bi-weekly schedule.

With his phobia currently in remission, he felt ready to meet the challenges that marriage would bring. Today he was a relieved husband, not a nervous bridegroom; he was calm and content, perhaps even happy as he heard the musicians strike up the first chords of Pachelbel's _Canon in D, _the processional that he and Louisa had chosen to begin their ceremony. He held his breath as he watched Louisa's two nieces, the flower girls whose names he still could not remember, begin their slow procession down the aisle of the village church followed by Alicia, Louisa's matron of honour. And then suddenly there she was, his beautiful wife, beaming as she walked slowly towards him. He released the breath that he had been holding since the beginning of the processional and let a shadow of awe and contentment cross and then settle onto his face.

Amelia and Abigail, Louisa's two nieces could barely contain their excitement at being flower girls in their Aunt Louisa's wedding, and now it was time for them to process up the aisle. They had practiced this over and over during the rehearsal the evening before, and they were confident they knew exactly how slowly to walk and where to scatter the rose petals and where to stand when they reached the front of the church. Louisa gave each of them a kiss and then watched them as they made their way up the aisle, trying to perform their part in the ceremony without too many giggles.

When she had called her brother Alan in late August, after they had set the date, to tell him that she was getting married and to ask him to come down for the wedding, her normally quiet and reserved big brother let out a whoop, "You're getting married? That's wonderful ... Annie", he yelled for his wife. "Annie, Louisa's getting married." Annie picked up the other telephone extension and the two of them bombarded her with questions about Martin and the wedding plans. Now, she stood on tip-toe to look over the congregation to see Alan and Annie beaming with pride at the sight of their two little girls leading the procession this afternoon. Even her mother, standing next to them, appeared pleased with her granddaughters.

When the girls reached the half-way point, she gave Alicia a big hug and a quiet "thank you" and watched her proceed to the front of the church. Alicia had been certain that a month in London with Martin would give Louisa serious reservations about a future with such a sombre and taciturn man and she admitted surprise when she saw a ring on Louisa's finger when she returned. But her friend was obviously thrilled and Alicia finally accepted that Martin very likely would make Louisa happy, as happy as any man could make his wife. After all, Martin was a good man and, selfishly, she consoled herself with the knowledge that his ties to the village meant she would still be able to see her friend frequently. She let herself be happy for Louisa and joined in helping her plan for the wedding, searching for the perfect dress, selecting flowers, finding the venue for the reception and even planning the menu.

Louisa scanned the pews to take note of where each of their guests was sitting, and in moments it was her turn to walk down the aisle towards her husband. What an odd thought, for he was her husband now that they had said their vows in the registry office that morning. Chris and Alicia had been the official witnesses to their nuptials, a quiet informal ceremony, she in a short cream-colored wool sheath and jacket and he in a dark suit with red tie. Afterward, before they went their separate ways to prepare for the church ceremony, they had a celebratory breakfast with Chris and Michelle and Alicia and Stefan. Except for the rehearsal the night before, it was the first time that the two couples had met and they had a fine time sharing their respective Martin and Louisa stories. Martin and Louisa for their part were quietly beaming, even Martin, so happy and still not quite believing they were now husband and wife. It was with great reluctance that they parted, she to Alicia's home and Martin to the farm to don formal attire for the church blessing later that afternoon.

As Alicia reached the altar and walked to the side, Louisa moved to the back of the church to prepare to walk down the aisle. The dress that she and Holly had found in London was perfect and she knew that her hair, swept up in the elegant knot that her mother had fashioned with several sparkling ornaments, made her look sophisticated. It was a silly thought, but she felt like a beautiful fairy princess with her prince waiting for her at the altar. Her heart skipped a beat as she gazed at him standing straight and tall, so distinguished in his formal tuxedo; he was definitely the most elegant and handsome man in the church. She smiled at him as he waited for her to join him, and the gentle expression on his face as she walked down the aisle told her that he was more than pleased with his bride.


	83. Chapter 83

**Chapter 83**

"Louisa Roberta Glasson, do you take this man, Martin Christopher Ellingham as your lawfully wedded husband?" The vicar looked at her expectantly.

"Yes, yes, I do." She had already answered this question at the registry office this morning, but now they were here in the church where the vicar had agreed to bless their marriage when they met with him that late summer day in August.

"Martin Christopher Ellingham, do you take this woman, Louisa Roberta Glasson as your lawfully wedded wife?" Without hesitation, Martin replied in a strong voice. "I do." She was so beautiful in her wedding gown, stunning in fact, that he felt a surge of emotion wash over him, and he found himself scowling as he blinked to control the tears of joy that were welling up in his eyes.

The vicar blessed their rings, they reaffirmed their vows, and the vicar finalised their wedding with the words, "Louisa and Martin have pledged to love and honour one another from this day forth and have exchanged rings as a symbol of their love. May God's love shine down on them this day and every day as they strive to grow in perfect love for one another. Martin, you may kiss your bride."

During the rehearsal, Martin had balked at this portion of the ceremony, saying that he was uncomfortable with the guests gawking at them like monkeys in a zoo. However, the vicar convinced him that the kiss was a seal of a sorts on the ceremony, and with the appealing look in Louisa's eyes, he relented, and now turned to her and gave her a chaste kiss. The guests murmured their approval and a few even clapped. "_Oh God_," Martin grimaced, knowing full well he had to behave himself today of all days. Louisa gave him a quick smile of commiseration and grasped his hand as they turned to face the congregation, whilst the vicar intoned, "May I present Martin and Louisa Ellingham."

As they prepared to walk down the aisle, he gazed over at his bride, his beautiful, talented bride who had just sworn to spend the remainder of her life with him. He still could not believe that she loved him or that he would be able to make her happy. In fact, even now a sudden wave of apprehension and nausea swept over him as the fear he would ruin both their lives reared its ugly head. He knew the haemophobia was at bay, but the underlying anxiety that he had carried with him all his life was never far away. Dr. Parmeter had warned it would resurrect itself upon occasion. Why did it have to be now on this so very special day?

All this passed through Martin's mind as he gazed on his new wife and, though he wasn't generally a god-fearing man, he said a prayer that he could indeed make her happy. Once again he repeated his mantra, _"I do deserve her. She loves me and I do deserve her." _He stood proud with just the hint of a smile disturbing his usual sober countenance, and then offered her his arm.

The musicians began to play their recessional, "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring", and the gentle strains eased some of his distress. They walked slowly down the aisle to the cheers and clapping of their guests with the wedding photographer snapping pictures the entire way. He was discreet but Martin could hear the irritating click of the camera and it made him wonder if he would be able to tolerate the man the entire rest of the day.

He was dreading the reception, having to make small talk with all the guests. True he had a few friends among the guests, but he preferred more serious conversations to the small talk that was standard at this type of function. The dinner the night before at Joan's farm had been difficult enough. Louisa's brother was amiable, quiet and serious like himself. When Louisa prepared him for meeting her family, she mentioned that her brother's wife Annie was an oncology nurse. Martin had wondered if she might know his old medical school mate, Nigel Browning and sure enough she did. She was tickled to discover herself in a small world moment and began to regale Martin with NB stories. Nigel, or NB as he was known in hospital, was quite a prankster when they were classmates and it seemed that age had not tempered his proclivity for mischief despite his standing as a successful consultant. Martin had called Chris and Michelle over and the four of them had enjoyed a good part of the evening sharing old and new stories. Martin found it was not an unpleasant way to spend an evening, but the rest of the night had been challenging.

The most difficult was Louisa's mother Miriam; she was a hairdresser living and working in a small tourist town in Portugal, and she peppered him with questions about his work, his ability to support a family and details about his family all night long, questions that he found completely inappropriate even if she were about to become family. Finally Aunty Joan took her off his hands. The two women had known each other years before when Louisa was young and Miriam still lived in the village, and they had quickly renewed their friendship. Joan took her on a tour of the house, pointing out all the renovations Martin had made in the past year and praising his attention to her comfort. After she mentioned that he and Louisa would eventually inherit the farm, all Miriam's fears about his ability to take care of her little girl were alleviated.

Today's reception topics were more likely to cover their good fortune that the weather had held, no rain or sleet to make travel difficult for their out-of-town guests. Other than that, what did people talk about at a wedding. Louisa had advised him to let others do the talking and just nod and be agreeable. "Be agreeable", what the hell did that mean? It was only two hours or so and then they could leave. She had promised him that.

Louisa was radiant as she proceeded down the aisle on the arm of her new husband, and she took note of their guests seated on either side. Her mother, who was standing in the front row along with her brother and his family, nodded approvingly as she passed by. It had been touch and go as to whether Miriam would fly in from Portugal for the ceremony, but she arrived at the last minute maintaining a running commentary about the cold weather and wondering why they couldn't get married in summer when it was warm like a normal couple. Alan and Annie were staying in her cottage and had offered the spare room to her mother, but Louisa found her a room at the Portwenn Hotel in the heart of the village, convenient to Louisa's cottage but far enough away that Alan, Annie, and the girls had a bit of privacy.

She and her mother had a difficult relationship, although it was probably no more challenging than the typical mother-daughter relationship. "_Parents_," she thought. "_Martin's aren't here and Mum is only here under duress._" She almost wished her mum had stayed away as well, but then she thought about how her mother had come to her aid when she was preparing for the church service. Mum insisted that she was the only one who could arrange Louisa's hair the right way for her wedding, and of course she was right, as she _always_ was. "_Mental note_" she said to herself, "_When we have kids, I'm not going to be like my mother._"

Sitting opposite her family on the groom's side of the church were Joan and Ruth. Joan, overwhelmed with emotion was crying into the extra handkerchief that Ruth had thought to bring just for this occasion. Even Ruth was dabbing at her eyes. Neither had ever thought this day would come for their brilliant nephew. Louisa sighed briefly as she thought again of Martin's parents who were missing their only child's wedding. Martin had specifically forbidden anyone to notify them of the nuptials. Despite what Joan had confided about their treatment of Martin, she still felt for their loss. When she remarked on it to Joan one last time a week or so before the wedding, Joan had chided her for mentioning it yet again and then she softened her tone and consoled her with the fact that Margaret and Christopher were unlikely to attend if invited, and would sour the occasion if they were to make an appearance.

Just behind Ruth and Joan was Chris' wife Michelle, along with their brood. Martin thought of them as family and wanted them to be near the front of the church, and frankly Louisa had begun to think of them as family as well. They had both been so supportive of their relationship right from the beginning.

She turned her head to the other side of the church where Alicia's husband Stefan, Roger and Caroline McCune and Carrie Penrose were seated right behind her family. Her flower girls, Amelia and Abigail, had left Martin and Louisa at the altar early in the ceremony, ducking into the pew next to their parents. That left Alicia and Chris walking just behind the new couple with the vicar bringing up the procession. Louisa had told Alicia that Martin was full of surprises, but Alicia was completely taken off guard when Martin solicited her help in planning the honeymoon, a special trip with which he hoped to surprise Louisa. He confided in Alicia about his plans and asked her to help Louisa pack appropriate attire without giving away the destination. Alicia never would have thought him capable of such a scheme. It was fun helping Louisa pack without breaking Martin's confidence despite all of Louisa's attempts to wrangle the location from her.

Right behind the Parson family, several of Martin's hospital colleagues were seated. Louisa gave a small nod to them and then beamed as she saw Simon and Joyce sitting on the aisle; she gave Martin a small nudge to make sure that he saw them. He gave them a brief nod and Louisa fluttered her fingers toward them in a discrete wave. Seated right behind Simon and Joyce were Morwenna and her date Al, one of the hospital IT specialists. Louisa grinned at her as she and Martin passed; she really felt a connection with Morwenna and hoped that Al was deserving of her.

Towards the back of the church she saw her friends from college, Holly with the latest man in her life, Xavier, a divorced solicitor. Louisa didn't care for him for reasons she really couldn't pinpoint. Martin couldn't stand him, said he was vulgar and crass, even worse than that tosser Reginald, the benefits consultant. It crossed her mind that it really didn't matter; he'd undoubtedly move on just as all of Holly's men did. She hugged Martin's arm more tightly, even more grateful to have found him.

Thomas and Amy were there; they were staying in one of the local holiday cottages in the village. It was a long journey, but when Amy's mother offered to watch Gina for the weekend, Amy and Thomas grabbed the opportunity to get away by themselves for a few days. They had arrived Friday evening and had explored the village and taken a short hike over the coastal path that morning. They were hoping the weather would hold so they could explore Bodmin Moor the next day and perhaps visit Padstow before they left late Monday afternoon. They both gave the newlyweds a "thumbs up" as they passed by.

Jeanine and Walter were seated next to Amy and Thomas; Louisa hadn't seen them since the wedding in February, but was hoping to spend more time with them in the future, perhaps next summer in Portwenn. Her friend Elaine from her summer seminar in London was there with her girlfriend, Tessa. Elaine had been a tremendous help in finding a position for next term in London. In fact it was her recommendation and that of Holly that had helped her secure the maths position that had been hoping for. She was really looking forward to her new job in London.

Filling the back of the church on both sides were all of Louisa's Portwenn Primary staff, along with more than half of the villagers. For Louisa, seeing them elicited a bittersweet feeling as she was leaving behind a cherished part of her life. The board of governors had wished her well but were not shy about expressing their disappointment at her leaving the village. In fact they assured her that should her marriage not work out, there would always be a place for her at Portwenn Primary.

Many in the village still thought Doc Mike was a much more suitable match for their head teacher and they were certain that she could have convinced him to stay in Portwenn if she had agreed to marry him. Michael was not in attendance; his contract completed, he had left for America at the end of November. He had dropped by her cottage a few evenings before his departure to say good-bye and wish her well in her upcoming marriage. They had continued to work together in their respective capacities tending to the welfare of the village children. At first their interactions were tense, but after her summer in London and her engagement to Martin, they had come to a civil, if not totally cordial, working relationship that autumn. She had heard that he was to join a primary care practice in his hometown, and she wished him luck. They shared a brief tenuous hug good-bye before he headed down to the pub for a pint or two with his mates on one of his last nights in the village. He and Carrie had been an item for most of the year before his departure, but he hadn't asked her to join him and she was still despondent at his departure.

With whoops and hollers, the villagers cheered Martin and Louisa as they neared the church doors. Martin stiffened as the cheering grew ever louder and he quickened his pace. As Martin lengthened his stride, Louisa slackened hers so that, by the time they reached the door, he was pulling on her arm, anxious to exit the church and she had slowed to a near stop, looking back and waving at her village family.

Martin wasn't the only one who had worried about whether they would make each other happy. She did love him, but she herself had had several sleepless nights wondering if she was doing the right thing, leaving her village and abandoning her beloved school to struggle on without her. Would she be able to find a close circle of friends in London, or work that was as important as her work at Portwenn Primary? Would her life with Martin and the family they hoped to create fill the void that would exist when she left Portwenn? Trying to balance the pros and cons of this big step had proved fruitless; there was no way to predict the future, and she came to accept that nothing in life was certain. She would follow her heart, leave the complacency of the known for the challenge of the unknown, to grow and hopefully find greater happiness and fulfilment. Still she would miss all the familiar faces cheering them as they left the church.

The limousine they had hired pulled up to the front of the church to whisk them away to the reception. Someone had painted just married across the back and had tied noisemakers to the bumper. As they pulled away and the cans started to rattle, Martin had another of his flashbacks, this time to their exit from the dream wedding, and he started to fume in exasperation at the temerity of anyone who would execute such a prank for the wedding of a grown man and woman. He shouted for the driver to stop and, just as he had done in his dream, he jumped out of the vehicle to remove the clattering cans from the back. He noticed, again just as in his dream, some of the wedding guests were laughing at his efforts. He could only hope that it wasn't an inauspicious beginning to their wedding night.

The guests were gathering in the main reception hall at the hotel enjoying the wine and cider and hors d'oevres while the wedding party was ensconced in a separate room for the pictures that Louisa insisted were mandatory. The vicar was anxious to join the other guests in the next room, so the first picture was taken with him posed between the newlyweds holding the small pillow on which their rings had been placed. Then they were joined by the two flower girls along with the vicar. Next was a posed picture with Louisa's family, then one with her mother and his Aunts, then one with just his aunts and then several with Chris, Michelle, Alicia, Stefan, and the two little girls.

Finally it was just the two of them alone with the photographer, the rest of the wedding party having been released to enjoy the refreshments in the next room. The photographer arranged them in several traditional poses, standing next to each other looking straight ahead, gazing at each other, and standing with Martin behind Louisa. When the man suggested that Martin bend down on one knee with Louisa perched on the other, Martin drew the line. "No! Absolutely not! No more! We are done here. Go away!"

The photographer protested, insisting that he needed to gather up his formal portrait equipment before taking his camera out to record the festivities. Louisa, sensing Martin's frustration and knowing that he needed some time to compose himself if he were to contain his temper during the reception, left Martin's side to calmly requested that the photographer give them a few moments to themselves. He agreed, reluctantly, and Louisa turned back to comfort Martin who was wiping his brow with his handkerchief and muttering "Idiot" under his breath. As soon as the photographer closed the door, she turned to Martin and took both his hands in hers and whispered, "Hello husband"

He had been ready to bolt the entire reception, but her greeting took him off guard. He gazed back at her, and then reached out to brush a loose strand of hair back from her face, "Hello Mrs. Ellingham." He kissed her gently, and then asked the important question, "Happy?"

She smiled up at him, returned the kiss and whispered back, "Very."

"How long do we have to stay?"

"We really do have to greet our guests ... maybe a half hour or so while they are eating dinner. Then there's the cake-cutting and the first dance, and then we can go. I've asked Alicia to pack up a dinner for us to take with us. I'm not sure we will get a chance to eat anything before we go."

A loud exasperated sign escaped his chest, "Right."

She held his hand and reached up to kiss him once more, "I love you husband."

His face relaxed and he released a gentle sigh before responding with a quiet, "Yes." His expressive eyes let her know he felt the same, and he leaned down and kissed her softly, his lips lingering over hers with anticipation.

When he finally pulled away, she gave him a shy smile and whispered, "I think we should go in now."

"Yes."

Opening the door and holding hands, they walked through to cheers from their guests.


	84. Chapter 84

**Chapter 84**

"James, it's time to go." I've just buckled Robert into his safety seat and now I need to divert my eldest son's attention from his biology research near the chicken coop so that we can get in the car and drive to the village.

"Not yet, Mummy. I just found this great nest of beetles. I've never seen any like these before. I need to go find a jar and gather them up before they all run away. I want to show them to Daddy when he gets here." James is single minded, much like his Dad, whom we are to meet at the park in the village in just under an hour.

"James ... now." That schoolteacher voice comes in handy with my two boys, and James looks over to me and realises that I mean now! He puts down the stick he has been using to dig up the beetles, and grousing, reluctantly trudges over to the car. "In you go. I'm sure the beetles will still be there by the time we get back." I pat his bum and tousle his pale blond hair as he climbs into the car where I buckle him into his booster seat.

"Will Daddy be at the playground when we get there?" James asks excitedly. He has been looking forward to his father's arrival all day.

"Maybe just a little after we get there." I assure him as I climb into the driver's seat; I am filled with excitement as well with the prospect of having Martin all to ourselves for the next nine days. He drove us down to Cornwall just two weekends ago, helping to unpack all the gear that comes with two active boys and a summer break at the sea. When we decided to marry, Martin had promised me that I could spend breaks and long weekends in Portwenn, and he has been true to his word. But as much as I love being in Cornwall, I miss his presence terribly. He is the steady anchor, the calm presence that keeps our little family secure.

Yes we talk every night before bed while we are apart, but that isn't the same as ending the day sitting together on the couch with a cuppa. We'll snuggle close and talk of our day, our plans for the boys, logistics for my frequent trips to Portwenn, and all the sundry matters that require negotiation in a marriage between two strong willed people. When we have an upcoming dinner scheduled with a hospital benefactor or a medical equipment rep looking to fund research, he will fill me in with the details that I need to keep the conversation going, and I reciprocate on the rare evenings that I require his attendance at my school functions. Martin hates his business dinners, but I rather enjoy them, most of them at any rate, because I always learn something new about him when we meet with his colleagues.

The boys adore him. He is a loving but strict father, insisting that they behave themselves at all times. I use "time-outs" and other disciplinary methods, but he only has to give them a look and they are immediately on best behaviour; even Robert at just 16 months senses that Daddy's look is not to be ignored. But, just as Martin has always been very attentive to me, he is the same with his children, very giving and nurturing; they know that Daddy will always take care of them.

Shortly after James was born, he was offered the position of head of vascular at Imperial College Hospital. It was quite an honour, but he was uncertain whether he should accept. With the added responsibilities of running a department as well as additional opportunities to head up an advanced team of researchers, he knew it would mean more time away from his family, but I encouraged him to take the position. I wanted him to be fulfilled in his work because his brilliance was one of the things that had attracted me to him, and it still does. Even so, he almost always makes it home for bath time and bedtime even if he must return to hospital afterwards. He considers it one of his parental responsibilities to read the boys bedtime stories, and he is quite diligent in carrying out that responsibility. He keeps them hanging on his every word with his wonderfully expressive voice and they will laugh uproariously when he makes one of his wry comments on some absurdity that he most always finds in the text of the children's books. It's obvious to me that he enjoys story time as much as James and Robert. And the weekends, after he finishes his early morning rounds, the weekends are reserved for us.

We had a lovely wedding with the simple marriage ceremony at the Bodmin registry office and the church blessing afterwards in our Portwenn parish church. I wouldn't call the reception a lavish affair, but most of the village showed up along with several of our friends from London and my brother and his family from Leeds. Even my mother graced us with her presence flying in the afternoon before the wedding from southern Portugal and flying back out the morning after. Despite being a native Cornish woman, Portwenn in winter was just too cold for her now thin blood.

When it came time for our "first dance", I was completely surprised when I heard the strains of "Some Enchanted Evening" begin. I had chosen a more contemporary song, thinking Martin would find "our song" too private to share with our guests, but he had arranged with the DJ to replace it. I once had told him I thought of it as "our song" because that was what had prompted him to confide in me about his dream; it was when I really fell in love with him. I know that more than one guest was curious as to why we would select such an old fashioned song for our first dance, and several asked whether that song had some significance. We just smiled and changed the subject; well I smiled, Martin grunted and looked away.

Martin was a good sport the entire evening, greeting most of our guests with a nod or a "good to see you", but after nearly two hours, after we had cut the cake and were on our second dance, he glanced at his watch and whispered in my ear, "Two hours. We've been here almost two hours. It's time to leave." I will admit I had hoped to stay a bit longer, but I had promised him that we didn't have to stay longer than two hours, and he was determined to keep me at my word. I later heard that our guests partied late into the night, by which time, he and I were happily engaged in an intimate party of our own.

Martin surprised me again with a honeymoon trip to Tuscany. Who would have thought to go to Tuscany in the winter, but it was charming with cool but not cold weather except at night, perfect for snuggling. There were few crowds in the museums and Martin was even able to sign us up for two days of cooking classes. We had a wonderful time.

My friend Elaine from my summer in London had moved down from Yorkshire for the fall term. She and Holly and Elaine's cousin Selina had all let me know of teaching posts opening up in January. With their help, I had found a job at an excellent primary school near our flat starting with the winter term teaching maths, and Martin and I settled into a comfortable domesticity. By the end of March I was pregnant and we were thrilled, but I lost the baby at 11 weeks. It was a hard time for both of us because we felt ready to start a family.

Ever the concerned physician, Martin insisted that we wait several months before trying again to ensure I was fully healed. I think that the enormity of our loss brought us closer together, and even more important, it made us both much more aware of what was important and ultimately made us more tolerant of each other's foibles, for we can absolutely drive each other Bodmin at times.

Fall midterm, we took a second honeymoon trip to Paris. It was incredibly romantic and we realised how much we enjoyed travelling together. Even though I had started my interest in cooking with Julia Childs' _Mastering the Art of French Cooking_, it had been some time since I had gone back to it. Martin had never tried to master French cooking so we signed up for a two day class and mastered a few sauces and braising techniques. Martin is still not sure he approves of all the butter, cream and cheese, but I thought it was fabulous. Of course, we weren't able to try many of our new skills, because soon after we arrived back home, we discovered I was pregnant. The hormones were at full throttle, and I couldn't keep much down for the next two months. My doctor said that was the sign of a strong pregnancy, and it certainly was. James Henry was born 9 months later at a healthy 22 inches long and weighing 9 pounds. He was a big baby and he continues to be a big boy. With memories of his dream family, Martin wanted to name our son James Henry. I knew it meant a lot to Martin and in fact it meant a lot to me. If he had not had that dream, we might never have found each other.

Every mother has a labour story and I'm no different. My waters broke just two weeks into summer break. As much as I wanted to be in Cornwall, I agreed that it was wiser to stay in London until the baby was born. When I called Martin, his mobile rolled over to his office number and Morwenna answered. Martin was in theatre on a complicated emergency procedure and wasn't expected to be finished for two more hours. The contractions were coming faster and faster so Morwenna called an ambulance and they whisked me into "the delivery area" at hospital.

An hour after I arrived, a furious Martin came rushing into my labour room. Mr. Ellingham had made it perfectly clear over the years that he was never to be disturbed while in theatre and no one wanted to break that rule, not even to let him know his wife had arrived in the late stages of labour. Already in a frenzied state when he arrived, he was aghast to discover that I was alone. My midwife had stepped out for just a few minutes to get some additional blankets, but he didn't know that. "Louisa, where is your midwife? No woman should be left alone during labour." He rushed over to check my chart, and whilst he reviewed the notes, he placed his fingers on my forehead and checked my vital signs. Just as I grabbed his hand to tell him that I was fine, another contraction hit ... of course. His quickly became my calm helpmate, helping me breathe through the contraction just as we had practiced at home.

The midwife returned mid-contraction and once it was over, I had the opportunity to observe the infamously tyrannical Martin Ellingham as I had never witnessed him before. He berated the midwife despite my attempts to explain how she had been with me all but the few moments before he arrived, and then he strode out into the hallway to find the ward matron. I could hear the two of them bellowing at each other in the hall as they returned to my room. I do believe she was just as tough as Martin, and regarded him as just one more irrationally anxious husband. She grittily informed him that he had no authority on her ward, that she was in charge, and she let him know in no uncertain terms that his wife's midwife was one of her best and had not abandoned her, and on and on. Still miffed, but somewhat chastened, Martin finally returned to my room just in time for another contraction. He settled finally and James Henry was born just an hour or so later. I glance in the mirror at our oldest son and blink back a tear as I remember how I cried when he was born; I was so happy and relieved that he was healthy. Even Martin shed a few tears as he held his firstborn in his arms and gazed at me with one of his rare smiles.

Our second son, Robert Martin named after my father and Martin of course, was born a few months before James' fourth birthday. Fortunately my labour started in the middle of the night when Martin was home and proceeded in a much less dramatic fashion. Where James is reserved, intense and curious, Robert is a happy laughing toddler who never met a stranger.

The Kensington flat that had seemed so spacious when there were just two of us suddenly seemed cramped after James' arrival. When Martin took the job at Imperial, and knowing that we wanted to have another child, we realized that we needed more space. After much searching I found our new home, a four bedroom townhouse with a small garden in the back, still a quick taxi ride from Imperial and a short walk to my school. We've kept the flat as an investment; the rents help finance our new home, and when the time comes for the children to leave home, we hope to pass our "golden years" there.

We turn off the main road and head into the village. James is staring out his window, busy listing all the presents he hopes to receive for his birthday, and Robert is happily babbling to his stuffed giraffe, kicking his legs against his seat. We pass by the village surgery, and I think about Michael. I cannot help myself. I know that Martin was the right man for me and I've never regretted saying good-bye to Michael, but I can't help wondering what life would have been like if he had stayed in Portwenn as the village GP and I had agreed to marry him.

Martin and I do have our problems and disagreements from time to time, and sometimes I really do wish he were more sociable. But then I remember last summer when I happened to bump into Michael with his new wife as they were leaving the co-op. With Robert on my hip and holding James' hand, I had run into the store to pick up a container of milk and there he was.

"Louisa, so good to see you!" He greeted me with open arms and before I knew it he had encircled me in a big hug that lasted just a second too long. Releasing me, he asked, "Are you back in Portwenn now?"

Somewhat stunned, I replied absently, "Just for the summer."

"Are these your children?" He leaned down to James who was clinging to my leg. "What's your name?"

I placed my hand protectively on James' shoulder and said, "This is James, and this little one is Robert."

He turned to the woman next to him and gushed, "Louisa, this is my wife Tessa. Tessa, this is Louisa. Remember, I told you about her. She was head of Portwenn Primary when I worked here as the GP."

Tessa smiled warmly. She was about my height with dark auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail, with a lean athletic build and green eyes that sparkled out of her very tan face. She was dressed very casually in shorts and hiking boots with a pair of sunglasses propped up on the top of her head. She was quite striking. "Yes, Michael has all sorts of tales of his days in the "wild west" of England. He couldn't wait to show me all the sights and introduce me to all his friends, but I thought he said you had moved to London."

I smiled back at her; she seemed quite nice, "Yes my husband Martin and I make our home in London, but we come down to Portwenn often. We'll be here until the end of August. How long are you planning to spend in Portwenn?"

Michael jumped back into the conversation, trying to be friendly, "Is Martin down as well? Perhaps we could get together for dinner?"

Thanking God that Martin wasn't here and wouldn't have to interact with Michael, I replied, "No he's still in London. He drove us down last weekend and won't be down for another few weeks."

"Too bad. We arrived just two days ago and plan to spend two weeks here. You and I will have to get together. Maybe we can catch up at the pub later – tomorrow night maybe?"

Alicia and I did join the two of them at the pub, and had a very enjoyable evening. Michael hadn't changed much and was his usual entertaining self. Tessa was a doctor like Michael, an ophthalmologist. She was a little quieter than Michael but occasionally matched him with a pithy remark of her own. I thought it odd that she was curious about Martin and his work until she mentioned how some of his work related to her field. I remember telling someone once that he was a renowned vascular surgeon and then modifying my comment that he wasn't world-renowned, but perhaps I was wrong. Tessa seemed disappointed that he wouldn't be down whilst they were in Portwenn because she would have liked to meet him.

A few evenings later Tessa visited with Joan and me out at the farm while Michael joined old friends for a few pints. It was enlightening to hear her describe their life together, a life centred on their work and their life on their sailboat. She was a sailor just like Michael, and they had been out on the sea just that afternoon, hiring a boat down in Padstow. It's funny how life can close one door and open another. Certainly when I set Michael free, he was hurt and angry, but he and Tessa seemed to be made for each other.

It was for the best in more ways than one. She dropped a comment about the pub life here in Cornwall, and how much Michael seemed to enjoy it. She confided that meeting at a pub wasn't part of their town culture, and she thought that was a good thing because she was beginning to see that Michael might spend too much time there if it were. Michael did love his time at the pub when he was in Portwenn as I recalled, and I suspect that he would have spent most nights at the pub with his mates if we had married and he had stayed here, not a happy outcome as I thought about it. It's nice to know that when he is not at hospital, Martin wants to be at home with us, and he is perfectly happy to watch the boys when I join my friends for an evening out every other week. All in all, life had turned out well for both Michael and me.

So here we are, another summer in Cornwall ready to celebrate James' fifth birthday. Ruth is down for the week, staying with us at the farm. My brother and his family will arrive tomorrow for the week, staying in my old cottage, which we keep as an investment, letting it out to summer tourists when we or our friends are not using it. We moved our holidays to the farm shortly after Robert was born. We did some additional renovations on the farm house before his birth so there was plenty of room and Joan was more than welcoming. She was thrilled to have grandchildren and loved spending time with them, and she never failed to let us know how much they both favoured Marty when he was a boy. She was with us until just after the first of this year when she had a sudden heart attack; we were so lucky to have her as part of our family and I'm glad we were able to brighten up her last years. We miss her, and James' birthday this year will be bittersweet for Martin and me. I'm not sure if James really understands that she isn't coming back.

I still hold a part-time position teaching maths three mornings a week at the school where I started right after Martin and I married. We have a nanny who comes in on weekday mornings. We try to find a university student majoring in early childhood education who needs the work and have found it to be a very satisfactory arrangement. She takes James to preschool and cares for Robert five mornings a week which gives me time to prepare for my classes on the two days when I am not actually at school. Some of our nannies have joined us on holiday in Cornwall to help out. Jemima, our current nanny is here with us this summer helping with the boys in the mornings and working the lunch and dinner shifts at one of the local restaurants. I hope we can keep her next year because the boys love her.

I still pine for a daughter and Martin has agreed to try one more time, but not until after Robert passes his second birthday. He's adamant however that the next one will be the last even if it's a boy, and I am fine with that. I love my two boys and a third could be even more fun. I'm still thinking about it, but we'll probably give it a go in another year or so. Given that he is approaching fifty and I just turned forty, we can't put it off for too long. We are lucky to have two healthy children as it is.

I unbuckle the boys from their safety seats, and James jumps out and runs to meet his friends on the play equipment. Robert is not as agile and I pick him up, giving him a big hug which causes him to giggle and hug me back giving me several sloppy toddler kisses. I carry him over to the "baby" slide and hold his hand as he flies down, laughing all the way. We move over to the swings and I alternate between James and Robert, first pushing one and then the other. "When will Daddy be here?" James wants to know. "He pushes me higher."

"Soon," I promise. I see the taxi drop Martin off near our car and watch him walk over to load his bags into the boot. His gait is still as erect and determined as it always was, and my heart skips a beat. I know that tonight after the boys are in bed will be special. I smile to myself as I watch him remove his jacket and carefully lay it on top of his case. He removes his cufflinks and rolls up his shirtsleeves. He is still as meticulous in his attire as he always was, and even with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows he still exudes refined elegance. I catch his eye, smile and raise my hand in a wave, and he acknowledges my greeting with a raised hand and strides in our direction. "James," I call out to catch his attention and nod my head in Martin's direction.

"Daddy, daddy," James yells as he jumps off the swing and heads into Martin's arms. Robert reaches out to be let down; he's only been walking for a few months and he runs as fast as his toddler legs will carry him, tripping and falling once, quickly righting himself, "Dada". Martin scoops him up as well and with a child in each of his arms he walks up to me and smiles down into my eyes. Martin is still the very private man he always was, but he is openly affectionate with us when there are few people nearby. I notice that most of the village children have left for the day as it is close to meal time.

James starts to whinge, "Daddy, come push me on the swings."

Martin turns to him and says sternly, "James, shush. Let me greet your mother properly."

I see James roll his eyes; he has heard this greeting many times before and is at the age when he is starting to find his parents' gestures of affection embarrassing. Martin looks at me and says with love in his eyes, "Hello Mrs. Ellingham."

I reply, "Hello Mr. Ellingham." These were the words we first whispered to each other on our wedding night when we were finally alone, and they have become our secret way of renewing our wedding promise to each other. Martin leans over, still holding a child in each arm and kisses me tenderly. I hug him and press myself into his chest happy to be encircled by my three men. James groans and turns his head towards the swings.


	85. Chapter 85

**Chapter 85**

I pack up my laptop, put my most recent copies of the BMJ and the Lancet into my bag and rush out of hospital. I grab a taxi and arrive at Paddington just in time to catch the 12:05 train to Bodmin Parkway Station. It's late July, two days before James' fifth birthday and I am headed down to Cornwall for a week and a half. I've been looking forward to this holiday ever since I returned to London after driving Louisa and the boys down just two weekends ago for their summer at the farm. The journey can be raucous with the two boys and Louisa's cat, but we learned early on that that the best time to make the trip is at night when the children will sleep. We drove down Saturday night, and then I helped Louisa unpack and get settled Sunday morning before retrieving our nanny from the station on Sunday afternoon. I returned by train early Monday morning for a full two weeks of work before leaving today.

My promise to Louisa when she accepted my marriage proposal that she could spend holidays in Portwenn has been beneficial in many ways for our marriage. I love my family and the life that Louisa and I have made in London, but life with Louisa and our two children can be quite chaotic at times. As much as I cherish her companionship and the company of our children and their cheerful chatter, at times their constant need for attention can become too much and I long for an escape from the bedlam that sometimes comes with family life. Fortunately the time between each of Louisa's Portwenn visits seems to line up nicely with my tolerance for all things familial. She packs the children up for a few days in Portwenn just as I reach the end of my patience; she renews her soul in Cornwall and I renew mine in the quiet solitude of our empty home. I tidy up the house and thoroughly enjoy the peace and quiet of my neatly ordered home for two or three days before I start to miss the three of them and I begin to count down the days till they return or till I join them.

This summer break has been no different. The end of term school activities for both Louisa and James, who now attends school on a regular basis, disrupt our routine, making the boys irritable and whingy. Louisa pushes herself in the last weeks of school until she is exhausted and loses patience with all of us. The house is littered with school projects tossed on any vacant flat surface, and I am at my wits end trying to sort it all and bring order to the shambles into which our home devolves. By the last day of term, all of us are ready for their Portwenn break.

I stare out the train window as the houses and warehouses of London give way to the green fields and villages of the country side, and I contemplate how our home had become too quiet this week. When the peace and quiet become oppressive, I know that I've been on my own for too long, and I find myself impatient to rejoin my family. I will be in Cornwall for a full nine days before I must return to work, and I am eager for this train trip to end so I can be with them again.

I haven't even had Louisa's cat, Ms Lisbeth to keep me company as she usually does when they leave for a long weekend because she spends the summer in Portwenn with the rest of the family. She has finally become accustomed to this trip and usually bears it sedately. She will quietly mewl in her cage for a few minutes at the beginning of the trip and then settle until released at the end of the journey. She has become quite elderly and spends most of her time these days sleeping. It will be traumatic for Louisa when she dies which I expect will be within the next year or two. I would never admit it to Louisa, but I have become accustomed to her presence in the house. Her quiet companionship curled up next to me in the evenings when Louisa is out with her friends or when I must work late at home can be quite comforting. I might even miss her when she leaves us, but I have made it abundantly clear that we are to have no more animals in the house after she dies.

I settle into my first class seat and pull out my laptop to finish writing up my notes from the morning's procedures. I will e-mail them to Morwenna this evening to add to the patients' files. As usual I can be reached by phone if any problems arise while I am gone. That's the beauty and the problem with modern communications; holidays are rarely uninterrupted by work. I shake my head at the irony that I, of all people, should consider these interruptions a nuisance, I who devoted myself to work so completely for years.

I still love my work, it defines me, and my work as head of vascular is even more challenging and rewarding than I ever thought possible. And I owe my position entirely to Louisa. Yes I have the technical expertise to run the unit, but I know there would have been great concern about my ability to bring in funding for the research that we do if I had not had Louisa by my side. She can charm anyone, and I am certain that prospective and current donors assume that if she loves me, I must not be as difficult as I appear at first glance. What's more, she loves helping me with the socialising that is part of my job! And she is supportive of all that I must do even though it keeps me from spending as much time with her and the children as we both would prefer. I would resign in a minute if it would make her happier, but she tells me that she loves me just as I am and that she loves being my wife, and I think she is sincere. I chuckle to myself thinking how, in her more delusional moments, she calls me her "brilliant sexy hunk of a surgeon"; love truly is blind.

I am unable to resist pulling out my wallet to take a quick look at the most recent picture of Louisa and my sons. James and Robert are growing up so quickly. Unfortunately my genes seemed to be dominant as both the boys take after me. Louisa wants to try for a girl, and I have agreed, although I have insisted that this third child will be our last even if it is another boy. I suggested that we utilize modern reproductive techniques to improve our chances of having a girl, but Louisa was appalled at my suggestion, "No ... absolutely not! Our children will be conceived through our love for one another, not in some test tube." That was the end of that discussion! I suppose we will begin to try to conceive another baby in a year or so, but I can only hope that our daughter, if we have one, will resemble her mother more than the boys have.

Our children have been a revelation to me, each one a unique individual from the moment of birth. James is insatiably curious and it is all I can do to keep up with his questions. He started reading last year and is now able to use his mother's laptop to research information about the various insects he finds on the farm and in the gutters on the streets near our town home. I was horrified one day when I discovered James digging with his fingers in those gutters collecting worms and beetles. I put a stop to that immediately and brought home specimen jars and wooden tongue depressors for him to use to collect his treasures. I've bought a small microscope for his birthday and plan to examine with him the specimens he collects. I had considered giving him a frog to dissect much as my grandfather had done for me on my fifth birthday, but Louisa immediately nixed that idea ... perhaps next year, she said.

We had many heated discussions when James was still in nursery school about his education. I felt he would get the best education by attending the same public school I had, but Louisa was adamant that he remain at home with us and attend the local state school. She was familiar with its program and felt it sufficiently challenging for James. I had serious reservations about the calibre of the other students in that school. Despite the bullies I encountered in my school, there were other students who were as gifted as I. We would compete with each other for the best marks, pushing ourselves to learn more than the others; would James find that same challenge from his peers in the local state school? I think not. We finally reached a compromise, and agreed to send him to a local private school with an outstanding reputation for academics. He entered reception last September and seems to be thriving. He will start year one this September and we will both continue to monitor his progress. I am sure we could find a place for him at my old school if his current school fails to provide him with sufficient challenges. Grandfather Henry would be pleased if a fourth generation of Ellingham's should follow in his footsteps.

Robert is equally intelligent as James, of that I am certain; he seems to acquire dozens of new words daily, not that I am able to understand his pronunciation. Fortunately Louisa seems to understand him completely, and she is an effective translator. Where James is shy just as I was, Robert is extremely outgoing. Even as a baby, he would smile at strangers, burble and bat his eyes, especially at pretty women and girls. I swear it is not my imagination that my younger son is an incorrigible flirt. Even my assistant, Morwenna who is quite taken with him, as he is with her, calls him her little heartbreaker.

Underneath the boys' pictures is our most recent family portrait. Gazing at it, I realize how much I have softened over the years. I still find it impossible to smile for the camera, but I am happy in my own way and my expression is one of contentment. Louisa and I are still required to attend several large social functions each year and she insists that we have our portrait taken at each one. Initially I had balked at this obsession of hers for picture taking and I still grumble out of habit at each event, but it is one of her many quirks that I have learned to accept. She keeps all of these portraits in an album which she pulls out periodically to show the boys. James always goes straight to the picture where Louisa is heavily pregnant, proudly pointing out that he is in that picture as well as mum and dad. I frequently take out this album and flip through it whenever Louisa and the boys are away. The scowl on my face in the first picture now causes me anguish, bringing back memories of my time before Louisa. I really had been a miserable old bugger; how she could see through that wall I had built up around myself I will never comprehend. Thank God she did.

After many months with Dr. Parmeter, I finally realised that my fear of losing her had contributed to my attack of haemophobia before our marriage. For years it had been my firm belief that I was unlovable, undeserving of any happiness, any love, or any success. How could Louisa love me? Surely she would realise what I was and leave me, and somehow that certainty led to the haemophobia. The destruction of my career due to the haemophobia would just confirm my worthlessness. I'd never been one for introspection, worrying about my lot in life. I just tried to keep myself busy with my work and my clocks, but Harold forced me to look inward to find the source of my poor self-regard. Once I realised that I wasn't inherently flawed, I was able to accept Louisa's love and accept that my success as a surgeon was deserved. The insecurities and the haemophobia that I experienced before our marriage have finally disappeared and I am at peace.

I smile inwardly as I think of my wife; Louisa is an amazing woman. Not only does she care for our children and our home, she is deeply involved with the school where she teaches part-time, helping to organize maths and science fairs, fundraisers and parent education seminars. After I assumed the position of head of vascular, my work load increased and I needed to spend even more evenings working. Before James' birth I had used the spare room as a home office when I needed to work at home, but with his arrival, the home office was converted to his nursery. We needed a larger home, so Louisa worked with an estate agent and found a spacious town home just a little further from hospital. It has three bedrooms and a den which serves as an office for both me and Louisa. The small back garden is perfect for the boys to play safely outside when neither Louisa nor I nor the nanny is able to take them to the park across the street. Fortunately, the real estate market had fallen somewhat which enabled us to afford the new home, but it also meant that my flat had lost value so we decided to keep it as an investment. The income from letting it out helped finance our new home and, as properties become more valuable in London, the rents have increased, enabling us to set more aside for the children's education.

With the two properties in London and the farm and cottage in Cornwall, Louisa has become something of a property manager, stepping up to oversee our four homes, finding tenants for the cottage and the London flat and arranging for periodic repairs and upkeep. I sometimes wonder if my father would be impressed with his son's accomplishments: successful surgeon, beautiful family, financially sound property owner ... probably not ... he was never inclined to be pleased with me, nor was my mother ... nothing I ever did was enough ... humph .. best not to dwell on either of those two.

Of course Louisa is still as beautiful as the day we met, in fact she grows more beautiful every day. I pull out the last picture I keep in my wallet, a portrait of her in her wedding dress taken the day before the ceremony. That dreadful photographer was a nuisance on our wedding day, but his skill captured her beauty perfectly, the lighting, the way her hair fell softly around her face onto her shoulders and her smile, not the brilliant one I love, but a more delicate smile that highlights her inner beauty as well.

Staring at her picture, I feel a surge of desire overtake me, warming my very soul. I long for her body, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I sense an urgent need to feel her silky soft skin bare against my own and to feel her respond to my touch. I had expected to settle into a comfortable platonic domesticity after we returned from our honeymoon in Tuscany. Others in the surgical changing rooms often joked that there was no more sex after the honeymoon, but I have found that our intimate life hasn't suffered at all. It always amazes me that after more than six years of marriage and two children that we can still stir such passion in each other. Only a few more hours and she will be in my arms. I snap my wallet shut, tug on my trousers and shift my body to insert it into my back pocket, forcing myself to return my attention to my laptop. I must finish this work ... now.

The train is just minutes away from Bodmin Parkway Station as I finish up my notes, and I pack everything away, ready to disembark. There should be a taxi waiting to take me to Portwenn. I sigh deeply, feeling the weight of my responsibilities lift from my shoulders as we ease into the station. Cornwall has that effect on all of us. Life slows down. There is time to appreciate the beauty of nature, the whistling of the constant winds blowing from the sea, the song of the surf beating against the shore, the cries of the gulls and other birds as they flit from the cliffs to the rooftops to the sea, the gentle rhythm of the cows and sheep as they follow their daily circuit from pasture to pasture in search of the best forage. Before Louisa, I would have scoffed at such sentimentality; life with her and our two boys has opened my eyes to the miracle of life around us. It took me nearly 50 years before I learned to appreciate the harmony inherent in life here.

We will celebrate James' fifth birthday this weekend, and Louisa has invited Ruth and many of our friends down to join in the festivities. I can't say that I am looking forward to the hustle, bustle and general pandemonium that will likely ensue. I would much prefer a quiet celebration with just our little family and Ruth. I'm sure that Louisa and I will be able to steal away in the mornings for a quiet walk along the cliffs, just the two of us as we did during my first visit to Portwenn. And I hope to take the boys down to explore the rock pools for crabs and other sea creatures. If the weather holds we can explore the night sky; the stars are brilliant here without the light pollution that comes with city living.

I wish Aunty Joan were still with us. She loved our boys, being their "Gamma"; she would spend hours with James in the fields around the farm, taking him to all the places she and I used to frequent. I find myself sad that Robert won't get to experience her care. I know now that I would have been a much different man without her love when I was a child. And I wish I had paid more attention to her health; perhaps she would still be with us if I had insisted she let me examine her, but she was headstrong and resistant, "I'm fine Martin. Stop fussing." Turns out she wasn't fine and when she suffered her heart attack this past January, alone on the farm, there was no one near to give her CPR, to call an ambulance, or just to be with her and hold her hand in her last moments. I had noticed that she wasn't her usual hearty robust self this past Christmas, sleeping much more than usual, but I attributed that to her tendency to overdo everything, and I was actually glad she was getting more rest. I should have recognised the signs of advanced heart disease. Louisa tries to comfort me, telling me it was not my fault, but that doesn't bring her back. I miss her.

The taxi drops me off in the car park at the top of the village, and I walk to our car and place my bags in the boot. I am to meet Louisa and the boys at the playground, and I can see them busy on the swings. Louisa notices me and waves; I raise my hand in return and she points James in my direction. He immediately stops playing and runs my way. I am continually amazed at how my children are always so excited to see me when I arrive home from hospital or, as now when I join them after being away. Suddenly James is in my arms, telling me all about his most recent discoveries and begging me to push him on the swings. Robert toddles over and reaches his arms up to me; I happily scoop him into my arms and he throws his chubby limbs around my neck.

Louisa joins us and I smile at her, prepared to greet her as I always do. James tries to interfere, but I shush him. He knows I must greet his mother properly. My father never showed me how to be a good husband and I hope to instil some of what I have learned into my boys.

"Hello Mrs. Ellingham," I greet my wife, just as I greeted her on our wedding night almost seven years ago. "Hello Mr. Ellingham" she replies. She reaches up to me as I lean down to kiss her and she wraps her arms around me in a hug; I encircle her with my arms as best I can whilst holding the boys. I nuzzle the top of her head, fill my lungs with her scent, and whisper, "I missed you."

James groans, impatient for his parents to complete their ritual. It is a simple ritual, but one that seems to make Louisa extremely happy, and I am more than pleased to initiate it each time we are reunited after being away from each other. Louisa reaches up to kiss me gently on the lips, "I missed you too." We stand there for a moment, our family circle renewed. James and Robert both start to squirm and we break apart. The boys pull me toward the play equipment and James jumps into the seat of the swing. "Push me high Daddy." I give him a stern look. "Please," he remembers to add. Louisa puts Robert into the baby swing and gives him a gentle push and he laughs, pleased to join his brother in play. Louisa and I share a look, happy to be together again.

As I gaze at my beautiful wife and our young children playing in the park, a wave of contentment washes over me, and I sigh thinking how things would have been if I hadn't caught that glimpse of Louisa in A&amp;E that night. Just a glimpse, and my life changed forever. I often think of that Robert Frost poem about the road less taken and I recite it to myself now, remembering how I had decided, as a young man, to take that solitary road, eschewing society and family connections and devoting my life to medicine, healing others. But the fates intervened; my subconscious, kismet, life ... whatever it was, had other plans for me, and my destiny was on the road that most travel by, and for me ... yes for me, _that_ has made all the difference.

THE END

**To my wonderful readers: Thank you for sticking with me and with this story. I am so thankful to be a part of the Doc Martin fan fiction community of writers and readers who are just wonderful people, caring and encouraging. I've made many friends in this community, friends I hope to keep for a long time. To those who left reviews, comments and personal messages, thank you doubly; you enriched my writing experience immensely with your encouragement, comments and reflections. More than once a comment or reflection inspired me to add a chapter or a scene that I hadn't planned or to make some other change that I think improved the story arc. **

**This story had its genesis in 2013 when Buffalo Pictures was filming series 6, which Martin Clunes had originally said would be the last. As I wondered how the story would end, I found myself fearing that they might pull a "Newhart" where the main character of a long running TV show wakes up in bed with his wife from an earlier TV show and realises that it was all a dream. I started to wonder how that could play out with Doc Martin and pondered over several different scenarios, eventually settling on the story that I would want to read as a fan. Like so many other fan fiction writers, I've never written fiction before. I thought the entire story could be written in less than twenty chapters – Ha! It took a lot longer than I thought it would because the characters had so many things they needed to do; they insisted that I take my time to tell their story completely. I have enjoyed writing "Just a Glimpse" tremendously. And I hope you enjoyed it as well ... ke0212 **


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