"You're a doctor of music?" She asked incredulously.

"Yes, studied hard for it, too."

Currently, Martha was a field trip with her class to an orchestral theatre. It had been all fun looking at all the giant instruments and crystal chandeliers but then she met this man you claimed to be a music doctor. No music man would have saved her brother and mum.

"So, when music gets sick, you just fix it up and make it better?" Martha sassily put her hands on her hips.

"No, not quite, little one. I compose music and play and sing. I've worked hard and gotten so good at it, I now have degree."

She eyed this 'doctor.' To be an old man, he seemed young, even younger than her mum. He slouched on stool and half grinned at her. He was nothing like Doctor Voran.

"To be a doctor you have to be able to make people better when they're sick. I know; I'm going to be a doctor when I grow up."

"Big dreams for such a small mind." He said with a smirk. "Doctor doesn't just mean medicine; it means that you've studied hard to become good at what you do. You could be a doctor of rocks, music, butchery, baking or even candlestick making. I have become quite good at many instruments."

Martha's face fell a bit. "So, not all doctors help people?"

"Well, we all help in different ways. I may not be able to heal you, but I can make you happy with one of my solo recorder concerts," he said with a wink. "You wouldn't go to the hospital if you wanted to hear a good song. And other doctors, rock doctors could save lives by predicting volcanoes."

Martha's eyes were wide. "And candlestick making?"

"OK, I was taking the mickey with that one. The point is being alive and healthy isn't of much use if you don't have a concert to enjoy, a sandwich to eat or a room that doesn't have lava in it."

Martha wanted to talk more but, unfortunately, her teacher interrupted her. "Come on, Martha, it's time to go. Say thanks to Mister Tweede."

"It's Doctor Tweede, Miss Heriot."