Doc Martin is owned by Buffalo Pictures. I do not own any material. Set nearly 40 years after the birth of their first son.

Chapter One

'Aargh!'

Louisa woke with a start as the telephone beside her bed rang loudly. From the snarl of pain next to her she could tell that the impromptu alarm had caused her husband to jump and jar his back again. God, he'd be a nightmare all day now. As she pressed the button for the nurse, she grabbed the phone.

'Hi, hang on a minute, please.' She turned to Martin. 'Are you alright?'

'No! You can tell – whoever – is on that bloody phone – not to ring – inconvenient tosser – '

His stilted rant was drowned out as the door opened and the nurse came in.

'Good morning Dr Ellingham, what's he done this time Louisa?'

'It's the back again, must have jumped and jolted it when the phone went.' Satisfied that Martin was being sorted out, she turned back to the phone.

'Joan? Is something wrong? Yes, he's fine, bit of a jolt but nothing new. No, of course not, it's always a good time.' Martin made a noise of disbelief as his wife carried on exchanging pleasantries.

'Right, we'll soon get you more comfortable, won't we?' Martin sulked as the head of red curls bent over him and lowered the bed so that he was lying horizontal. He didn't like it when she patronised him, and he didn't like that she was in charge, but he wouldn't put up with anyone else and she knew it. Pauline Large was now a formidable 61 year old with just as much bounce in her as she'd always had. When she removed her plain nurse's uniform she was still an array of bright shawls and scarves, clashing with her now artificial copper ringlets. She was also one of the few people in the world Martin had complete trust in. After a ten year stint as his receptionist and phlebotomist she'd finally achieved her nursing degree and become Portwenn's community nurse. He had to admit that she excelled in her field, and she frequently accompanied him on trips to the school and the local nursing home. She knew exactly how to make people feel better, while he was able to stay quiet and carry out the more complicated procedures. Their combined double act had improved healthcare in Portwenn hugely – people were a lot more comfortable about calling the Doc when Pauline was coming along.

'So, how bad is it this time?'

'Bed rest for the rest of the day I'm afraid Dr Ellingham. I'll get you you're painkillers, and some breakfast - if you're nice to me!' Martin scowled and grunted in reply.

After his accident, she'd been in charge of his care. Since he had gone into retirement and moved here for convenience, she'd become his main nurse. He preferred her to the others – she'd known him for so long that she dropped the nursing act when she came into the room and didn't treat him like some senile old has been. She was also the only nurse who called him 'Dr Ellingham' which he'd always preferred. True, it was probably just habit from when she worked for him, but he didn't like the new young nurses on a mission to make him smile, calling him by his forename. No respect for their elders at all.

He was pulled out of his reverie by his wife's voice, which had suddenly shot up in pitch.

'What? Really? Oh! Oh, Joanie! It's the most wonderful news!'

Louisa's voice was beginning to tremble in a mixture of laughter, tears and excitement. From his end, Martin could only guess what was going on, but whatever it was he didn't see why it couldn't wait until a more sociable hour. Maybe nocturnal phone calls were how gossip spread so fast round the village; he'd had enough of them in his time to appreciate that they were quite commonplace here. In any case, he would have thought that his wife and daughter would know better.

'How far, how are you? Oh lord! I don't believe it. When's it due?'

'What!' Martin and Pauline both turned their heads to gape at Louisa, a smile on her face from ear to ear. Martin cried out in pain again and Louisa rolled her eyes. He couldn't believe it. Of their three children only one had produced children. James and his wife bred like rabbits, but their eldest son Charlie and daughter Joan had never seemed to be up for procreation. His little girl... Now he understood why Terry had been so frosty with him when he'd first come out of prison, shortly after Charlie was born. He'd wanted him to make an honest woman of Louisa, but seeing as he was due for parole soon Louisa wanted to wait so that he could walk her down the aisle. Martin couldn't understand why at the time after all he'd upset her, but Louisa was extremely loyal and family meant the world to her. In any case, Martin wanted to get hold of that little git Peter, get him up against the wall, and make sure he was going to take care of Joan. Unfortunately since the accident, that was no longer physically possible.

'Give it here, let me speak to her!' He tried to grab the phone from Louisa but she held it out of reach, rather unfairly he thought.

'Yep, about what you'd expect. Looks like his eyes are going to pop out of his head. When will we see you? Give my love to Peter, bye!' She quickly replaced the handset before Martin could try anything stupid. Pauline sensed that she should probably leave the room, but this gossip was just too big to miss, so she headed into their en-suite bathroom under the pretence of cleaning. Anyway she reasoned, she'd been about for so long that her and Al were like family, she deserved to know what was going on.

'Is it – did he – wait till I – stupid kid –'

'He's not a kid Martin, he's-'

'Fourteen years older than her!'

'You're ten years older than me Martin, it doesn't matter when you get to their age. She loves him and that's all that matters.'

'Why wouldn't you let me speak to her, anyway?'

'Because I learnt the hard way that sometimes the only way to stop you saying something stupid is not to let you talk at all. Took me the best part of ten years but there you are.'

'What do you mean?'

'Do you remember our first kiss? Come to think of it, our second and third too? That third one led to us splitting up if you remember rightly.'

'That wasn't the third, which was when you kissed me and then rode off on your bike. And that was hardly splitting up, we conceived Charlie two days later.'

Louisa felt herself soften. Occasionally he dredged up some evidence of the well hidden romantic that she knew lay just below his (extraordinarily thick) surface, and this was one such time. She barely registered that kiss, it was brief and very one sided and in most relationships it would hardly be significant, but the fact that it he'd remembered it so vividly was touching. His sharp, ever learning mind didn't often have room for such mundane details. Still, she wasn't to let herself get sidetracked, if she was to keep family relations up. She made do with a quick peck on the cheek, similar to the one that was now playing in her mind from so long ago.

'Anyway, I'm not going to let you be insensitive this time, it'll just cause an argument and she's got enough on her plate. I don't think it was planned you know, she sounded quite shell-shocked.'

Louisa stated this last fact calmly while her husband spluttered.

'That – that – is he at least going to marry her?'

'That's their business don't you think Martin? Anyway, I'll thank you not to be so hypocritical. We weren't married until after Charlie was born. Don't they remind you of anyone?'

'No.'

'Woman, thirties, unplanned pregnancy, they even live in Portwenn Surgery, for heaven's sake! Older doctor, brilliant but misunderstood, gruff, monosyllabic, well meaning but rude, ringing any bells? Although she's better at handling him than I ever was, she got your logical, argumentative side. She can hold her own, our Joan can.'

Martin was feeling sullen, she'd put forward a fair debate but he still couldn't see the comparison.

'I agree she's the spit of you, looks, temperament,' he ignored the scathing looks being shot from the other side of the bed – 'build, age, whatever you like, but I still fail to see any comparisons, physical, mental or otherwise, between me and Peter Cronk!'

Louisa rolled her eyes; it had been of great amusement and interest to the older villagers when young Joan Ellingham had moved in with the man who was so like her father.

'If you say so, Martin. In any case, they're coming on Saturday, the roads are still dodgy so they're waiting till Charlie comes down with his four by four. And Martin Ellingham, you will be civil to him and sensitive to her, or so help me I'll have to gag you first!'