This is a work of fanfiction. The characters and storylines belong to Buffalo Pictures.

The Rain in Spain

Chapter 1

This story takes place at the end of Series 6. Louisa recovers from surgery and decides to visit her mother in Spain with James Henry. What transpires between mother and daughter over the three-week holiday?

The title of this story is inspired by a song written by Fredrick Lowe and Alan Jay Lerner for the stage adaptation of George Bernard Shaw's Pygmalion. A story of change for all the worse reasons, Professor Higgins, a linguist, places a bet he can change Eliza Doolittle from a tough and tumble Cockney to a lady of high society. As one would expect, not all goes as plan for the Professor and Miss Doolittle.

As Professor Doolittle strives to win his bet and change Eliza for the better, Louisa attempts to change Martin to suit her vision of what a father and husband should be. There are ups and downs, disappointments that barely survive the test of time. Change does not come easy, and sometimes it's questionable whether change is really necessary. Acceptance is often the best option, but we find Louisa in no frame of mind to go down that route.

Instead she turns tail and takes James Henry to Spain for a visit with her mother. Martin is to remain in Portwenn and he wonders what havoc his mother-in-law will wreck on his already precarious marriage.

It had been an uneventful flight until the man seated next to Louisa started to snore. His grunts and snorts were getting on her already frayed nerves, and she sighed with exasperation. It had already been a long day and there were still some ways to go before she and James arrived at their destination, a small village on Spain's southern coast. She took a few deep breaths, and gazed down at her sleeping son cradled in her arms. The scent of soap and nappy cream along with elusive smell of babyhood calmed her in a way nothing else could.

"Almost there, James Henry," Louisa whispered. He stirred but didn't wake, and she leaned back to look out at blue skies broken only by a few wispy clouds in the distance. Spain would be sunny and warm, unlike her native Cornwall where the damp got into one's bones. She needed a holiday, and had told the villagers as much when they asked why she was going away at the peak of the glorious and fleeting Cornish summer. None of them had been fooled by her throw away answer but most had kept their own counsel. Ruth was one who hadn't – she was no one's fool at the age of eighty - and had made clear running away was not the answer. "Marriage is difficult under the best of circumstances, Louisa. You have to tackle the problems head on or they'll fester until there's nothing left to salvage." They had been sitting in the surgery kitchen, nursing a pot of tea after Ruth had dropped off a picture book for James. It had become one of her habits, to visit the booksellers on her trips to London and purchase a pile for her great-nephew's enjoyment.

Louisa had agreed there was a need to air things out with Martin. "But he won't talk, Ruth. It's like I'm hitting a brick wall day and day out. I just can't do it anymore." Her voice had wavered and Ruth remained silent, possibly an invitation for Louisa to continue. But she hadn't and finally Ruth had stood, patting Louisa's hand patted before leaving. "You do what you feel is best, Louisa but remember that running away won't solve your or my nephew's problems."

Maybe it wouldn't solve their problems but it would give her breathing room. The months following their wedding had been a descent into a misery the like she'd never imagine existed. Her husband, never demonstrative to start with, had further withdrawn into himself for reasons she hadn't fully understood. But she had enough imagination to know his moods had something to do with her and the baby. The timing was right – it had all started after the wedding. Before then things had been as good as they ever had been, with Martin solicitous and caring with her and the baby, especially when no one was around. It hadn't been perfect, but she had chalked it up to pre-wedding jitters. Little did she know his behavior would deteriorate to the point where she eventually wondered why she had ever married him in the first place. There had been no rows, no harsh words. Just an impregnable wall of silence that Louisa had repeated tried to repeatedly breach without success.

She had tried everything, from cajoling to sharp words she could never take back. It's only when Louisa announced her intention to travel to Spain after all had Martin shaken off what was left of his self- imposed stupor.

"You can't be serious, Louisa. Flying is not a good idea in your condition." This had been said in with more spirit than she had heard in months, and a little flutter of hope came to life deep inside her soul. But it wasn't enough to make her change her mind.

"The surgical consultant said it was fine and anyhow, I need to use the tickets before the end of year."

"They'll give you a credit for the tickets if you ask, and the surgical consultant is a wrong." He grasped the back of the kitchen chair in anger at the thought of the so called surgical consultant, an inept pimply dweeb who had richly deserved to be shoved and locked into the broom closet. From Martin's perspective it had been a near miss, and he had no regrets on stepping in to perform the surgery himself. The downside was the pending disciplinary hearing, a small price to pay he had told Louisa, and she had seen a spark of the old Martin in the way he dismissed the charges levied against him. You are my wife, he had said to her, as if this was justification enough for his actions. Still, it hadn't been enough to keep her in Portwenn, and upon her discharge from hospital she had informed Martin of her plans.

"I need time away, a break from this." She had waved her hands, indicating the inside of the surgery kitchen. Martin wasn't fooled. "From me. You mean from me." The hurt in his eyes almost made Louisa change her mind but she steeled herself; it wouldn't do to back down now.

"From us, Martin. I need time to think about where this is going." If anywhere, she added silently.

"And the baby?"

"We've been over this. James is coming with me. It'll be good for him to see his granny."

"You don't even like your mother, Louisa. I just don't understand…"

"That's just it, Martin," she snapped. "You don't understand and I don't think you ever will."

Martin hadn't come to bed that night, and she had cried herself into a dreamless sleep. The joy and heartache of the past few months had taken a toll, and she wondered for the hundredth time how she came to find herself in this mess. She remembered their wedding day, how happy she had been to be finally married to the man she loved. But her fantasy of perfect married life had quickly crumbled under strain of Martin being Martin and the demands of caring for a baby. How could she had not seen it coming?

She awoke the next morning tired and drained of all feelings. The tears had brought a momentary calm and remoteness that enabled Louisa to leave the surgery without a twinge of guilt. Martin had insisted on driving them to the airport, and it had been a silent ride punctuated by the occasional gurgle from James. Martin had pulled up at the departures entrance and helped her with the case and nappy bag. Only then had he said, "I'll miss you." There were tears in his eyes, and she looked away, least it weakened her resolve.

"I'll ring when we get there." She had reached up and kissed him lightly on the cheek, and hurried away without looking back.