Chapter 9: Martin by Candlelight

Wednesday Evening.

At Chough Cottage, Louisa turned on the cooker to preheat it and got James Henry's bottle ready. Martin uncorked some red wine and poured two glasses. He popped the shepherd's pie in the oven, found a CD player, flipped through Tom's small stack of CDs and started up some Greek mandolin music for some soft background. Louisa fed James Henry and took him upstairs for his bedtime ritual. By the time she started back down the stairs with the baby monitor, she could smell something both sweet and acrid.

"I hope you're not bothered," Martin said, offering her a hit. "I'm trying to give up cigarettes but Tom and I sometimes light up a spliff so I know he wouldn't mind me enjoying one in his house. I suppose Dr. Special Someone wouldn't approve."

"Oh, I haven't had that since university, but James Henry is settled for the night, his door is closed, so I suppose there's no harm in it after a disappointing day," she said. "You're a bad influence about drinking and diving though."

He laughed. "I don't overindulge and I make sure to stay hydrated. Moderate wine intake has certain health benefits."

Louisa sat beside him on the settee and took up her glass with a smile. They smoked the joint down in between sips and chatted as the storm progressed outside.

"Did you always want to be a doctor?"

"Not always, didn't know what I wanted when I was a kid. My old Dad pushed me toward it when I got into my teens and I found I had a real knack for it."

"Are you and your Dad close then?"

"Nah, hardly ever saw him when I was growing up. My mum and he were, uh, separated. I gather Glasson family life wasn't exactly idyllic?"

Louisa sighed. "No, not exactly. I think that's why Tom and I were so into folktales and legends when we were kids. It was escapism for us. My favourite Cornish hero was always Tristan, prince of Lyonesse, and his tragic affair with the Irish princess Iseult. Young girls like to dream of handsome princes and star-crossed lovers but I reckon Tristan and Iseult never bickered about what colour to paint the living room or whether to have fish for dinner again."

There was an extra bright flash, a loud crack of thunder, and the lights and music went out just then.

"Oh bugger!" Martin brought out his mobile for an emergency light and Louisa went into the kitchen cabinet where she knew Tom kept some candles and a torch. They set the candles on the table and along the counter. Fortunately the shepherd's pie was about heated through by then, so they served it up by candlelight. It made for quite a pleasing scene, she thought, with only the rain for soundtrack.

"So anyway, our mum took off when I was 11. Tom was 13," she said, as they settled in at the table. "She came back to help me out with the baby a few months ago, but really she caused more problems than she helped with, and she wasn't even there for me anyway, she just wanted to find a seafood supplier in Cornwall for her restaurant in Spain."

Louisa giggled. "I don't know why it seems so funny now, but for a while it was like me and, uh, Dr. Special Someone," she giggled some more, "the only thing we could agree on was that Mum was a problem."

"And I suppose you heard about our Dad getting into trouble a few years back. He was never an upstanding citizen but he's doing time now for smuggling explosives and conspiracy to commit burglary." She grew almost serious. "So Dr. Special Someone is really convinced my family is just trouble and he's not happy about my being here visiting Tom, and… uh, Tom's friends… So, do you have a Special Someone yourself?"

"There was this girl, Rita, she worked behind the bar at the Lion, used to sing with a band there too. She's a mate of Lolita's, they're into all that Druid tosh, but she's quite a lovely person. We were just friends really, she's married and got a son but separated from her husband when we met. Harvey tells me the husband's a demolitions expert with a short fuse. She decided to try one last reconciliation with him for their boy's sake, moved up north where he's working."

"So here I am," Martin declared. "Port Liac's most eligible divorcee!"

They finished up dinner, set the dishes in the sink, and returned to the settee, with more wine, and now sitting quite close. Seeing Martin by candlelight, she was struck by how he was not a conventionally handsome man. Sometimes he looked quite comic with his exaggerated ears and mouth; but from certain angles, sometimes, just sometimes, with the right light falling on his pale hair and skin and accentuating the sensuality of his features, he was simply beautiful to look at. Just like her own Martin.

"Well I know about difficult family," he was saying. "We have that in common." He grew quiet, then leaned in close and touched her hair, which was loose on her shoulders, and murmured "oh radiance rare and fathomless…*"

He leaned in closer and she moved toward him and as their lips were about to meet there was a loud knock on the door. They jumped back with a guilty start. Louisa got up to answer it, as Martin followed with torch in hand close behind.

It was a man, not tall but broad-shouldered, as if he spent lots of time in the gym. His dirty blond hair was cut short, showing puffy looking ears. Cauliflower ears, Louisa thought. She remembered that look from the small time boxers her dad used to bet on, when he would take her with him to watch the fights in Plymouth. This man looked familiar, like she had seen him hanging about on the slipway watching them prepare their diving gear.

He had an umbrella in one hand, a torch in the other, and a soggy cigar stub clenched in his teeth. "Where's Tom Glasson?" he demanded.

"He's not at home, I don't know where he is," Louisa said. "Who are you?"

"Never you mind who I am," he snarled.

"Hullo Eddie," said Martin, peering over her shoulder. "What brings you out on a night like this?"

Eddie grumbled at being recognized. "Tell Tom he needs to pay up, he can't duck out on this any longer. He owes us three grand now. We know he's got a big payout coming any day now from some old map."

Martin moved to confront the man, towering over him. "What? Did he tell you about that?"

"Never you mind. You can just tell him he's got to come up with the money by Saturday or he'll regret it."

Glowering up at Martin, he snarled, spat out the cigar stub, and left.

"I knew it!" Louisa exclaimed. "I told Tom he was going to get himself into trouble with the gambling, just like Dad. And I can't believe he told some tosser he lost to at cards about the map, after he kept on at me about how it was top secret."

Martin sat down, visibly annoyed. "He was just telling me today he and Harvey are out of money, even to buy diesel for the boat, trying to hit me up for more cash. I guess he's just sinking too much of his money into covering his bad luck at cards."

He turned toward her. "Good thing I'm here. Eddie Prescott can be a tough customer, and his twin brother Emrys is even worse. Former boxers, not very successful at it so who knows what they're up to now. Matching pair of troglodytes, the both of them, the only sure way to tell them apart is Emrys has been sporting a droopy eye lately, no doubt from some fight he lost, which hasn't improved his mood at all."

"Who knows if Eddie might have gotten rough with you, and you with a baby to watch out for upstairs," he added.

"I can take care of myself," she retorted, but she felt less than sure of herself. "No, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, it is good you're here. You're good company, lights on or off."

There was an awkward silence, broken by the lights suddenly blazing on and the mandolin music starting up again. Louisa got up to blow out the candles. The mood of the evening was definitely broken.

Then the door opened and Tom came in, thoroughly soaked. "Sodding miserable night," he said.

"Right then, I should be off," said Martin. "I expect you've got some words for your brother." Turning to Tom, "I'll want to have some words with you and Harvey myself tomorrow."

To be continued…

* Martin B. is paraphrasing a line from Thomas Hardy's poem "When I Set Out For Lyonesse."