Doc Martin belongs to Buffalo Pictures.
Chapter Seven
On Christmas morning, Martin awoke at his usual time. He went about his usual routine, then at eleven o' clock pulled a present wrapped in dark green paper from a drawer. He'd had quite a job finding paper that wasn't adorned with talking snowmen or Santa, neither of which he'd ever seen the appeal of. Christmas was such a childish holiday. He rarely felt like celebrating it anyway, especially after last year. But he wasn't going to let Aunty Joan down – she shouldn't have to spend Christmas alone. He stepped out onto the quiet streets of Portwenn. They'd been almost deserted recently due to the weather, even before PC Penhale's 'Winter Warning' meeting in the village hall. Only yesterday had the ice begun to thaw and more people were venturing out.
'Happy Christmas, Doc!' Martin grunted in response to the calls of the local teenagers, who were wearing pink antlers and giggling as he got into his car and slammed the door. He headed down the hill and soon was making his way along the winding roads to Joan's farm. He skidded on a stray patch of ice, and knocked his elbow against the controls as he fought to keep the car under control. As the car bumped back onto the road, 'Merry Christmas Everyone' blared out of the radio. A pained expression appeared on his face as he turned it off - but not before an image of Louisa murmuring the words popped into his head, sitting excitedly in the passenger seat with a smile on her face. So much could change in just a year.
xxx
Louisa woke up early with a smile on her face. Despite her troubles and the fact that she'd probably had about four hours sleep, she never could resist the magic of Christmas Day. She got up straight away and headed for the other side of the room, putting on her dressing gown and opening the small fridge. Following personal tradition, she fetched some chocolate from the fridge and poured herself some juice. Normally she'd have wine, but it couldn't be helped. She put on her festive CD and smiled sadly before turning up the volume and heading to the small pile of presents waiting under the tiny Christmas tree. She caught sight of the Christmas card that lay on the table and sighed. The card which had been deliberated over for days and which in the end hadn't been sent.
She arrived at the pub later where she was meeting a large group for dinner, still in high spirits. Sitting at a long table, she ate with a large group of already tipsy singles, and managed to lose herself in their loud, cheery discussion. She couldn't help observing that the meat was ever so slightly dry, and the conversation was rather banal. The new pop singles were drowned out by the chatter, and she began to feel rather lost. She drifted into memory of driving across the moors in contented silence, classic festive songs filling a small kitchen, Joan's small table crowded by the wonderful, home cooked food. Best of all, the company of Joan and of course Martin, who seemed much more relaxed in the presence of his aunt. She'd been invited up there by Joan after the fiasco of her father's visit, and was glad that she didn't have to spend another Christmas wondering where he was and what trouble he might be in. She sighed, wondered what Christmas was like in Exeter prison and focused back to the rambling story being told by Holly's deputy headmaster.
xxx
Knocking on Joan's front door, Martin glanced briefly at the bare doorframe. He'd long suspected that there was more to Louisa's invitation last year than Joan had admitted. Hugging his aunt stiffly as the door opened, he followed his aunt into the kitchen. It looked exactly the same as last year, the same mountain of food and home grown poinsettia. The only thing different was the lack of Louisa, and if he was honest, that hurt more than expected it to. It was beginning to dawn on him that he might never see Louisa again. However, he was well practised in hiding his thoughts at the back of his mind, so he sat down, exchanged gifts with Aunty Joan, and tried to enjoy the meal. This wasn't hard, as Joan was an excellent cook.
Afterwards they went to the sitting room to watch a film. They had done this together since Martin was a child, and he secretly loved the familiar old habit. Aunty Joan went in and sat in her favourite armchair, and Martin sat on the sofa. As the film started and they occasionally made conversation, Martin felt again like something was missing. Louisa had only joined them for one Christmas, but her absence was distracting. Last year she had curled on the sofa beside him. Engrossed in the film, she'd absent-mindedly let her head fall onto his shoulder. It was quite distracting, especially avoiding Joan's gaze, but it was pleasant, and he occasionally stole a quick glance at her. Joan had watched this all knowingly.
xxx
That evening, Holly dragged Louisa off to a party. The attitude to Christmas here was completely different to how she'd experienced it, but she managed to somewhat enjoy the evening. Luckily Holly had had quite a bit to drink over the course of the day and so hadn't questioned it when she'd turned down the umpteenth glass of wine offered. There were a few marginally nice people there, so Louisa managed to have quite a good conversation with some of them, and actually had quite a good time. After an hour or so dancing, she suddenly felt overwhelmingly tired. So she got her bag, said her goodbyes and began to make her way towards the exit. As she was driven away a taxi, she saw two people kissing passionately outside a bar and sighed as she remembered...
It had been a lovely day. After the initial awkwardness when the film finished and she realised exactly what she'd been doing, they thanked Joan, who said she'd leave them to see themselves out as her back had been playing up again. When Joan had managed to convince Martin that no, she didn't need immediate medical attention, they made their way out to the door. As Martin ducked under the door frame, he'd been caught up in greenery that Louisa was sure hadn't been there when they'd come in. Glancing up and seeing the white berries, she had a split second to decide. Martin was initially surprised, but she kept going and soon he had put his arms around her and the kiss deepened. When he kissed her, she could somehow forget the negative encounters – forget everything, in fact. When they eventually pulled apart, they smiled. As Louisa leaned in for another kiss, he did it. Again.
''You do realise that the supposed effects of mistletoe as an aphrodisiac are nonexistent?'
Louisa sighed. 'What?'
''The common superstitions linking mistletoe to fertility, and hence intercourse are mainly based on the semen-like appearance of the berry juice, however if consumed they would in fact probably damage chances of conception, due to their toxic properties. In any case after a certain age fertility begins to decrease naturally anyway, and so medical intervention would be more useful than other-''
''Martin, I know it's superstition, it was just a kiss!'' Louisa was close to tears at the insensitive reminder that she wasn't getting any younger.
''But the presence of mistletoe often encourages one of both parties to make contact, often meaning that any resultant romance is based upon superstition and is less likely-''
''Just forget it. Let's go home.'' Without waiting for a reply, she went back to the car.
xxx
Martin had regretted the words almost as soon as they had left his mouth; unfortunately nerves had once again got the better of him. He was never nervous when in his surgery, dealing with people he was superior to. When Louisa initiated intimate situations, he was out of his depth and he was the inferior one with the lack of knowledge. His medical conscience took over in an attempt to regain some ground before he hopelessly lost control. Louisa was far more at ease in these situations, but he couldn't help ruining them. It was probably a good thing she was gone. She could find someone who could manage a simple kiss every now and again.
He realised that a) he was crying and b) that Joan was speaking to him.
''Sorry, I need the bathroom.'' He made a swift exit.
xxx
Louisa lay in bed after an exhausting day. It was early – there were probably kids still partying all over the country. It had been a very odd Christmas. For her, Christmas had always been a day to spend with your loved ones – your closest family. Now she had none, not even the comforting substitute family that was Portwenn. But not for long... again, suppressed fear and happiness loomed as her hands made their way down to her midriff and she contemplated next Christmas. Martin had been wrong about the fertility, mistletoe or no mistletoe.
xxx
Martin spent longer than usual in the bathroom. He washed his hands and face and then ventured out to the sitting room where he knew his aunt would be waiting, not fooled for a second. Where is she? He peered into the kitchen, and then rushed in as he saw her slumped against the far wall.
'Aunty Joan?'
