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Doc Martin owned by Buffalo Pictures.

CHAPTER TWO

The next morning when I had a few spare minutes, I rang Chris Parsons about my receptionist situation. I had made up my mind quickly that I was not going to hire one of the villagers if I could avoid it, and I was hoping Chris could keep his ears open for someone who may be suitable for the position.

'Hello, Mart, good to hear from you. How are things going? Everything all right?' Chris asked.

'Fine. Still marveling at the speed with which diseases here are spread. I don't think anyone here has ever purposely washed their hands,' I replied dryly.

'Ah yes, I see the Ellingham bedside manner has remained intact,' Chris laughed. 'You aren't fooling me; I know you secretly love living there. You're the best GP the area has ever had, at any rate.'

I mumbled a half hearted, 'er, yes….well…' I have never been any good at accepting compliments. I changed the subject. 'How are Sara and the children?'

'All well, thanks. The kids are growing like mad. Julia turns seven next month. Sara will be expecting you at the party, of course.'

I rolled my eyes. Sara Parsons had the exasperating habit of never taking no for an answer, particularly when it came to including me in their family celebrations. I had long ago giving up trying to make excuses to get out of them. 'Let me know the details and I'll check my schedule,' I told him.

'Good man. Now, I assume this call isn't purely out of curiosity about my children, so what is it?' It was refreshing, how Chris knew me well enough to keep the small talk at the bare minimum and get to the matter at hand. I appreciated that about my oldest friend.

I proceeded to tell him about Elaine's abrupt departure and my need for a new receptionist. 'So you aren't planning on hiring someone from the village, then? Surely someone local could fill the position,' Chris said.

'Absolutely not. I am prepared to hold out as long as needed for someone with at least some medical training, preferably a background in phlebotomy,' I replied vehemently. 'I want someone who will be a useful asset to the surgery, not some surly, dim-witted local with a penchant for gossip and malingering.'

He exhaled noisily. 'Well, I must say, that is a tall order. I'm sure you know it will be hard to find a soul willing to move to a rural location for less pay than could be made in the cities.'

'Of course, but I am willing to wait for the right candidate. I refuse to employ anyone who doesn't meet the criteria. Hiring someone who could take care of the surgery's blood work would make my job a lot easier. Maybe I could get through the day without having to resist the urge to vomit at least once,' I muttered.

'I would be glad to ask around for you, see if any of my colleagues have heard anything. Is someone at least acting as receptionist for you until you hire someone, or are you doing it all on your own?'

'At the moment all calls to the surgery are forwarded to my phone in the consulting room. I have to set my own appointments, but it has allowed me to pare down the number of patients I see in the course of a day. Not ideal, but I can manage for the time being. Since the school children just began their spring holidays and the weather here has been quite warm, it seems as though a lot of people have gone off vacationing elsewhere. It's not an especially busy time at the surgery, luckily,' I explained.

'Well, at least there's that,' Chris said. 'Right, I will put the word out and give you a ring as soon as I hear something.'

I thanked him and we said our goodbyes. I sat back in my chair, glad to have the task taken care of. My thoughts briefly shifted to my impending dinner with Louisa. Although I looked forward to spending time with her, I didn't hold much hope that the outcome of the evening would be favorable. Louisa was a lovely woman, bright, caring, and full of spirit, but so very hard to understand. My every attempt had been thwarted. Being fearful of making her unhappy with every word that came from my mouth was no way to begin a relationship, assuming she even had that in mind. I still wasn't exactly sure what she wanted from me.

I did know, however, that being kissed by her had been quite enjoyable. It had been a very long time since I had had the pleasure of being kissed that way. I was surprised at how much I had missed it, those intimate moments of spontaneous, shared passion. Although I hadn't experienced it very many times, the memories of being connected to a woman in that way sometimes made me long for that closeness. I wondered fleetingly if Louisa and I would ever have that kind of relationship; could we move past all the miscommunication and start fresh? Maybe dinner tonight would bring some answers.

I arrived at Louisa's cottage at the appointed time and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, Louisa answered, seeming a bit harried.

'Hello, Martin…come in. Dinner may be a bit late…' she trailed off, hurrying back into the kitchen. 'My cooker is being very temperamental.'

'Is there anything I can help you with?' I asked.

'Yes, you can open that bottle of wine,' she nodded toward a bottle of Reisling on the counter, 'and the glasses are in the cabinet above the sink.'

I dutifully extracted the cork from the bottle and took down one glass from the cabinet. Louisa quickly filled the glass with wine and took a healthy sip. 'Aren't you going to have some?' she asked, eyebrows raised.

'No, thank you,' I replied. 'I don't drink wine.' She seemed surprised.

'What, never?' she prodded.

'Very rarely. It has a narcoleptic effect on me.'

'It makes you sleepy.'

'Yes.'

Louisa nodded once. 'Right. Well I hope you don't mind if I have some, because I think I may need it.' She took another sip.

'Not at all,' I assured her, unsure of what she meant by her statement.

Despite the dodgy cooker, the fish and roasted vegetables Louisa had prepared came out perfectly cooked. We filled our plates and sat at her small dining table, and for a few minutes we ate in silence.

'This is quite good, Louisa,' I remarked, attempting a compliment. I was rewarded with a smile.

'Thank you, Martin,' she answered. Another minute or two went by, and I heard Louisa take a deep breath and watched as she took another gulp of wine. At the rate she was going, she would soon empty the bottle.

'I want to apologize to you Martin…for kissing you in the taxi,' she said briskly. 'The whole night, all that we went through…I got carried away. You were just so…amazing, with Peter and how you handled all the blood and…how you saved his life. You saved his life, Martin. I just…well, it just happened. I'm sorry.'

I opened my mouth and then closed it again. 'Right,' I weakly replied. 'I…er…I'm sorry, as well, for what I said. I was merely trying to…'

Louisa held up her hand to stop me. 'No, there's no need to explain, Martin. You were being…well, you. And I think that is the whole point.'

'I'm sorry, I don't think I understand.'

Louisa sighed and sat back in her chair. She studied me for a moment, then said, 'Ever since I met you, Martin, I have had an attraction to you: your presence, the way you take charge in an emergency, the way you carry yourself. You impress me and intrigue me and make me want to know the real you. As Doctor Ellingham, you make me sit up and take notice.

'But we are just so different, aren't we, Martin? I wanted so badly to come to some sort of understanding-for a while, I thought we might be able to communicate more, spend time together as a proper couple. I sort of hoped we could at least stop bickering long enough to have a normal conversation,' she finished, exasperated.

'Er…isn't that what we're doing now?' I countered, confused.

She shook her head. 'I'm not really saying this very well,' she muttered. She placed her palms on the tabletop, and looking down at them, started again. 'What you said in the taxi, after the kiss…that is how you are. I just came to realize, that is what it would be like, wouldn't it? Random medical diagnoses at unfortunate moments, and you being rude to everyone I have grown up with and have ever been close to, and me always having to be the one to initiate any kind of intimacy or discussion or…anything. Because that is how you are, Martin.'

I sat silently, letting her words sink in. My face must have shown the hurt and confusion I was feeling, because she reached out and put her hand on top of mine. She gently said, 'that sounds harsh, doesn't it, like I'm criticizing. I really don't mean to. I'm not saying these things to hurt you, Martin. I am so fond of you, and there is quite a lot about you that I like very much…but when it's all said and done, there are things I need from you that you just…aren't able to give me. I'm sorry. I'm really, truly sorry…I wanted things to be different, but I have to be truthful, for the sake of us both. You do understand, don't you?'

There. There it was, the final answer to my question. Could we move past our differences to begin a romantic relationship? For Louisa, the answer was no. And although her words stung and saddened me, I felt a generous dose of relief mixed with all the other emotions swirling around my brain.

I cleared my throat and murmured, 'I do understand, yes. I'm just…sorry I can't be the man you need me to be. What you said about me is true; I am the way I am, there's not much I can do to change that. I don't feel I should have to change.'

'No, of course not, and I don't want you to. You are an extraordinary man, Martin…but even you can admit we just aren't suited.' I nodded in agreement. 'I really do want you to be in my life, though…I want us to be friends. Do you think that could be possible?' Louisa asked wistfully.

I smiled shyly at her. 'Of course, Louisa. I'd like it if…we could be friends.'

The atmosphere of the room was completely different as we finished our dinner, as if someone had opened a window in a house that had been locked up for years, letting a fragrant breeze blow inside. I was surprised and pleased to learn that once the pressure was off, Louisa was much easier to talk to. It seemed that a friendship with her was ultimately the happiest outcome.