Chapter 4
Martin hated obscenities, thinking them crass and uncalled for, but in this case, he was prepared to make an exception. Spitting out expletives not fit to be heard, he escaped to the sanctuary of the Men's Conveniences & looked at himself in the mirror. He was appalled at his appearance. He couldn't turn up to Louisa's looking like this! His face would have attracted a marauding bull, he was glistening in sweat, his hair was sticking out at odd angles, his clothes were dishevelled and the wrapping paper was crumpled.
He was furious with himself. How had he allowed this to occur? Why were these things always happening to him? No wonder he was the village buffoon! Martin had an exceptionally powerful IQ, but he simply did not have the life skills or emotional maturity to realise that embarrassing situations happen to all people. Unlike most people, who have a sufficiently developed sense of humour to laugh off such situations, learn from them and then move on, Martin aggravated awkward circumstances by inadequate social skills and allowing them to fester in his mind, resulting in a heightened emotional reaction.
He glanced at his watch and realised he was now fifteen minutes late. He must get a move on. He splashed some cold water on his face, attempted to flatten his hair, straightened his apparel, smoothed out the wrapping and applied wet paper towel to the back of his neck. He took a steadying drink of water and a few deep breaths. He felt his pulse and although still rapid, he did detect some improvement. He would have liked his sphygmomanometer to check his blood pressure but was fairly sure that it had dropped a few millimetres of mercury.
A condom vending machine on the far wall was ridiculing him and he had an uncontrollable urge to throw a brick at it, but, as with many of life's crises, 'you can never find a good brick when you need one', so he satisfied himself with merely glowering at it.
"Doc! I thought I saw you come in here" cried Penhale walking through the entrance.
"Oh God "thought Martin.
"I have this problem."
"Make an appointment."
"How can I put this? I'm not one for feeling myself but ... "
"Make an appointment."
''I have a lump ... on my danglers. Please Doc, just a quick look. I gotta know. Is it a benign hydrocele or is it a cyst or is it ...you know?"
"MAKE AN APPOINTMENT" boomed Martin as he pushed past Penhale.
Muttering snide asides, he looked up the hill to his destination. Only about a hundred yards now. Surely, nothing else would prevent him from taking those final few steps.
"DOC!" hailed Bert gleefully. "Just the man I wanted to see."
"OH GOD! "snarled Martin to himself.
"It's my back, see? It's still playing up. Walking up this hill is killing me and ..."
"MAKE AN APPONTMENT!"
"Medical emergency, is it Doc? Right, you are then. I won't keep you. But you don't have your medical bag with you. Oh, I see. You have your 'tools' in that 'package'. Hurry on then Doc." Bert announced with a rakish twinkle in his eye. He loved baiting The Doc.
Bert's voice was increasing in volume and started to echo up the narrow street. Martin noticed that several neighbours were now looking, in a curious fashion, out of their windows and reaching for their mobile phones. It was almost as if Mrs Tishell, Bert, Penhale, the teenagers and the nosy neighbours were bounty hunters after his blood. Well, Mrs Tishell was after more than his blood, but let's not go there! The very thought made him shudder. He had an instant vision of Mrs Tishell, bounty hunter, handing him over to the authorities and they were asking her if she wanted to be paid in 'cash or kind?'
"Kind," she said, longingly looking at Martin. "Oh, definitely, kind. I prefer to be paid by the hairy chequebook."
"Get a grip, Ellingham," Martin chided himself for the second time that evening. "This isn't the Wild West!" Although the thought did strike him that living in the tumultuous days of the Wild West could not have been any more difficult than being the GP in present day Portwenn – 'Have Stethoscope – Will Travel.'
This was so unfair! This was so grossly unfair. He was just an ordinary man wanting to visit an ordinary woman for a pleasant meal. Was that too much to ask? But, if the truth be told, Martin was not an ordinary man. Louisa had already identified that he was an extraordinary man. How could an extraordinary man expect to live an ordinary life?
Martin looked up and saw the summit only about fifty yards away. How many more obstacles would he have to pass as he ran the gauntlet to Louisa's haven? Taking a covert look around to check that there were no more members of the posse out to get him, he took a few determined strides forward. He conquered his Everest, scaled his final peak and arrived triumphantly on Louisa's doorstep. He straightened his jacket, took a deep breath and tapped smartly on the door.
To be continued.