A note of explanation: This story contains spoilers that reveal happenings from Season 6. What you are about to read tells of the Ellingham family from Louisa's surgery at the end of Season six through 25 or so years of living. The author attempts to remain true to the the six series that make up what we call The Canon. However there is a thread that runs through all of the good stories in FanFiction. I make no apology for reflecting on this in this story. To me it is my second canon. My intent is not to plagiarize. I hope you authors will take it as a compliment on your good ideas and fine writing - and of course your understanding of what happened that could not be covered in the brief television episodes.

The characters, places and situations of Doc Martin are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This story places no claim of remuneration or ownership, nor do I make any attempt to infringe upon any rights of the owners or producers.

Thank you for reading. I do appreciate your reviews.

REMEMBRANCE

CHAPTER ONE

"Mum, did you and Dad ever consider divorce?"

Joan and I had slipped down a side street a short walk from Sacre Coeur, wanting to distance ourselves from the crowds. The babel of voices tripping over the cobblestones made talking difficult. Add the noise of taxis and it was near impossible. The diminutive Cafe Alsace with its beautiful pastries was perfect. On our third day of a week-long mother-daughter pilgrimage to France, we had made our way to Montmartre. There was the smell of the rain-soaked pavement and the fresh feel of the spring afternoon with no demands on us. My mind had meandered to warm thoughts about the wedding and I was taking a bite of a scrumptious dark chocolate strawberry torte. Gosh, I thought, this is to be savoured, as I licked some whipped cream off the fork. Joan had said something and all I really heard was the word "divorce."

"What, Joanie? What was that?"

"You know Mum, did you and Dad ever think about divorce?"

I am certain many in our fishbowl village had wondered this about Martin and Louisa Ellingham, but my daughter was the first to say it in my presence.

"Where in the world did that come from? I think you know your dad and I are happy together."

"Yes. Yes. I know that, but many of my friends come from divided homes. When we were in school it was one week with mum and one week with dad. I always hated it when Kerra spent almost every holiday away from Portwenn. And now Eva and Alan's parents are going their separate ways. Mum, they have been married longer than you and Dad! Eva is so distraught and it really makes me sad for her, for all of them. I'm sorry Mum. I didn't mean to cast a dark cloud on our time together."

"Oh Joanie, if it's on your mind it deserves talking about. To settle your mind, no, we never considered divorce and you can be assured we are not going to. That said, you know we have talked a bit about this. Your father and I didn't have an easy time of it in the early years. We weren't two ships passing in the night. We were on two different seas. So much misunderstanding. I'll never forget the time I broke up with Dad and he proposed to me two days later. I was elated. Of course you know we didn't get married that time. Never got to the altar. Stood up the congregation really."

What I told Joan was true. We never did use the word divorce as a possibility or, God forbid, a threat. If it is only the stream with stones that sings, then the first year of our marriage was fortissimo and not always in tune. To maintain the metaphor, we often found ourselves in rapids with large rocks that threatened to do us harm.

I really did not want to reveal to Joan how hard it truly was.

I recalled one evening when I cried uncontrollably and beat on Martin's chest. "Martin, how many chances will we have for love in this life? I am 37. You are 44. You tell me you love me and damn Martin I can assure you that I love you. Do you think this happens every day? I want to make this work. I will do whatever I can to make our being together good."

Words have never been easy for Martin. That's not completely true of course. If he can analyze it medically, the words flow. In matters of the heart, he is King George before Lionel Logue. I did not know what to expect. That night he embraced me and held me tightly as if I would disappear if he let go. The only words from his mouth were, "I am so sorry, Louisa," and "You are my life," but his word without words continued when I looked into his face. There was fear and sadness and concern and yes...love. His eyes were red, welling with tears. The truth of it is, that night's experience carried us over shoals that have upset many a marital boat. The other miracle that happened that night was that our dear son stayed asleep and the phone did not ring.