Not a Walk in the Woods
By Robspace54
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.
The Series 6, Episode 1 title is "Sickness and Health" in which Martin and Louisa finally marry. After their wedding, Louisa and Martin are taken by Bert to a honeymoon lodge. Just as things start to get cozy between bride and groom with a good fire, an open bottle of champagne, and some kissing, it becomes clear that the smoke is not going up the chimney, but rather flowing into the room. Thus begins their honeymoon night trek; a tale of how things might have been.
Chapter 1 – Damned Damper
"Martin? What are you doing?" She watched as Martin, her husband of all of three hours, barged past her and back into the smoke-filled 'honeymoon lodge.' She heard him coughing inside and she became more upset for his safety. "Mar-tin?!" She knew he was headstrong but his actions were more than just impulsive, but also reckless. "Martin?" she called again. God, she thought, what if he collapses in there?
Before she could move back towards the door, inside of which an inky blackness billowed, he emerged coughing. "Here," he said, giving her her wedding shoes. "Put these on. Are you okay?"
"Why? I'll live."
"We can't stay here! The place is awash with bronchial irritants! It has to air out! And we need to find a phone and call Bert! And go home!"
She reached to his face in an attempt to wipe some of the soot from his forehead.
"What?" he said.
She sighed, for she had only made his face dirtier. Poor Martin. He was so proper about his appearance. If she told him he was smeared in soot he probably rush back inside to take a shower. "You're fine," she said.
Louisa saw he was carrying a large torch. "Come on," he waved as he pranced down the stairs and away from the lodge.
Louisa hugged herself for there was a chill in the air. "Mar-tin? What are you proposing?"
"Louisa, we can't stay. We must find a phone!"
She looked around the small valley where the lodge was nestled. "It's getting foggy! And dark! Can't we stay here?"
"No," he snapped, but not unkindly. "Yes, it is getting dark, I can see that. So, the faster we move on, all the better. Come on!" He waved to her once more.
"Really? Not exactly dressed for a hike, am I?" she told him pointedly.
He shook his head. Come on Louisa, don't be a boat anchor, he thought. "Look. There's a path. All we have to do is follow it. Home free." He held out his hand. "Quick as you can."
She sighed. Martin you can be so… so… such a cave man. "Fine." But a true cave man would have known to open the damper, and if he'd not, at least not use ALL the champagne to put out the flames. So, giving in, she wiggled her feet back into her shoes.
They had built up heels to make her two inches taller, to counter some of his 6 foot - three-inch height.
Plus, as the wedding gown saleswoman had emphasized, "They will shorten your gait, luv, and make your hips swivel more when you walk. As well as your shoulders. And in this dress with the long skirt," she'd run her hands over the dress, "you'll look all the sexier. Not that you aren't already, my dear. A nice long and lean one, you are."
Louisa had nodded at her praise. Sexier? Now as she jammed her feet back into the cream shoes to follow Martin on a ramble in the woods, she regretted having taken the advice, although the praise had been nice. "Martin!" she yelled. "Wait a minute, would you? MAR-TIN!"
Martin had gone to the path, and turned when she nearly screamed at him. He nearly shouted back. Hold on Martin, he thought. She's your wife, and not one of the village's idiotic time-wasters. "Yes."
Louisa caught up to him and she looked down the tunnel-like path, roofed by tree limbs and edged with thick bracken along the sides. The path curved ahead, so it was dark and gloomy down that way. "Really?"
Martin held out his elbow. "Walk with me."
She shook her head and looked back towards the lodge. Smoke still drifted from the open door. She turned to face Martin, flashing on what she had hoped to do with him back there. Bollix! "Yes, fine," she said, and linking her arm with his they set out.
As they moved along the fog got thicker, night was drawing close, and she began to shiver. She looked up his dirty face, his jaw set with determination. Oh, Martin I do love you. But if you'd only opened that damned fireplace damper!
Martin tried to shorten his strides to match hers, but he surmised that her ridiculous shoes were not helping. He sighed to himself. Damned damper, he cursed mentally. Stupid Bert!
Author's Note:
"A Walk in the Woods" may mean a waste of time; in other words when a hunter takes 'a walk in the woods' they have come back empty-handed.
By the same token 'a walk in the woods' may imply that something is easy and not difficult at all.