Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Seven

For a moment Martin thought he was hallucinating or had fallen asleep but then he remembered that it was Bert that he was talking to,

'What?'

'A special pudding to remind people of their visit to Port Wenn. Sort of like how coronation chicken always reminds people of the Queen.'

'Bert, I'm a doctor. You consult me about medical problems not recipes.'

'But you were the one that told me to open a restaurant.'

'No, I wasn't!'

'Strictly speaking, no, but you did advise me to change my life and I took your advice like I always do. So, what do you think? Something with chocolate?'

Exasperated, Martin replied,

'You want my opinion? Cut out all sugar and all saturated fat from your diet and start doing thirty minutes of exercise a day. Now get out!'

'Right you are, Doc. I'll get started on it straight away.'

Bert ambled out, leaving Martin glaring at the door; it was quite clear that Bert hadn't listened to a word he'd said. Which was unusual. Normally, Bert would assure Martin that he was going to mend his ways, just as soon as he had time or was less worried or had dealt with whatever crisis was currently requiring all of his attention. Martin made a mental note to try and find time to check on Bert tomorrow.

Determined to see Louisa today, Martin got through his patients as quickly as possible, disposing of malingerers, gossips and time-wasters even more ferociously than usual. By mid-morning word had got out that Doc Martin was in a foul mood and three of his patients decided to see if Mrs Tishell could help them and had cancelled their appointments.

As a result, Martin finished his surgery by twelve-fifteen,

'Pauline, any messages?'

'Chris Parsons rang. He said could you ring him back.'

'Good. Ring him back and tell him I'm visiting Miss Glasson this afternoon. He can find me there.'

'Yes, Doctor Ellingham.'

'Any home visits?'

'No, but Mrs Tishell has got the supplies you ordered.'

'Good, I'll collect them now. I'll be back at four.'

'Tell Louisa we're all looking forward to seeing her.'

Martin gave Pauline a baffled look; she'd seen Louisa just two days ago when Bert had driven her into Truro. He looked at Pauline closely. She seemed fine but he'd have to monitor her closely; memory loss at her age could be a symptom of several serious illnesses.

Martin walked rapidly down the hill, ignoring the teenage girls sarcastic comments,

'Hey Doc! Get out of bed the wrong side this morning?'

'He's just grumpy 'cause he's not getting any.'

'At his age? He probably only does it once a year anyway.'

At the last comment, Martin smiled inwardly. He had never considered himself to be a passionate man. Then he met Louisa and she turned his ideas about himself upside down; when he was with Louisa he had to stop himself from constantly touching and kissing her and his libido had dramatically increased.

He went into the pharmacy and went directly to the counter. Mrs Tishell broke off from her conversation with two tourists and hurried over to him,

'Doctor Ellingham. How wonderful to see you. What can I get you?'

'I've come to collect my order.'

'Of course, Doctor. I'm afraid that there are still some items outstanding. I have complained but I'm afraid that they weren't very helpful.'

'Can we use a different supplier?'

'I'm not sure. Would you like me to look into it?'

'Yes.'

Mrs Tishell handed Martin a large parcel, saying,

'Of course, Doctor. Anything I can do to help. And how's Peter today?'

'Fine.'

'Such an intelligent child. Just like his father.'

Embarrassed, Martin left but not quickly enough to avoid hearing Mrs Tishell explaining to the tourists,

'Such a wonderful doctor. We are so lucky to have him. And so handsome too.'

Aunty Joan was waiting for him in the kitchen at the farm and had made them soup for lunch. They ate together in silence. Martin was anxious to get to Louisa as quickly as possible and Joan saw no reason for pointless chatter. It was only after he'd finished eating that Martin broke the silence,

'Are you still able to look after Peter this afternoon?'

'Of course, Marty. You know I'll have him any time.'

'Well, if you're sure, I'll drop him off at approximately three thirty-five.'

Joan smiled but didn't say anything; only Martin could view three thirty-five as an approximate time.

'Give my love to Louisa.'

Martin didn't reply, pretending to be busy strapping Peter into his car seat.

'Why don't you take her in something to read? Her eyes are virtually back to normal now.'

'I don't want to go back to the house. There isn't time.'

'Pick her up a paper and some magazines at the hospital.'

'I probably won't have time.'

'Give her this, anyway,' said Aunty Joan, handing Martin a carrier bag.

Martin looked at the plastic containers inside the bag disdainfully,

'What is it?'

'Some sandwiches and fruit. You know the food in there's awful.'

Martin put the bag in the boot along with Peter's nappy bag and pushchair.

Having parked in the gynaecologist's parking space again, Martin unpacked the boot, set up Peter's pushchair then gently transferred Peter to the pushchair. For the first time, he managed to move Peter without waking him. Feeling smug, he strode into the hospital.

Once inside the hospital, he handed his car keys to the receptionist who accepted them with resignation,

'Whose spot are you in, Doctor Ellingham?'

'Mr Mitchell's. I thought I'd use his whenever I come since he never appears to be here. No doubt he lets the women of Cornwall suffer at the hands of his half-trained juniors whilst he plays golf.'

For the first time a flicker of understanding showed in the receptionist's eyes,

'Mr Mitchell's space is usually empty,' she agreed.

On the way to the lift, Martin noticed the hospital shop. He hesitated before pushing the pushchair into the shop. The shop had a reasonable selection of newspapers but only a few magazines that Martin would consider reading. Most of them appeared to be about celebrities and fashion. Sighing, Martin settled for New Scientist and The Economist. He added a copy of The Times to the pile and went to pay.

A few minutes later, Martin walked into Louisa's ward. As he drew close to Louisa's bed he was shocked to see a familiar face. Danny was sat beside Louisa holding her hand in both of his and gazing deeply into her eyes. As Martin got closer he heard Danny say,

'It would make me so happy if you said yes.'