Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.

Happy Ever After – The Real World

Chapter 10

Once I'd gathered myself together, I rushed after Martin to try and explain things to him, but by the time I got upstairs, he'd already shut himself in the bathroom and I could hear the shower running. Either he didn't hear me knocking on the door, or he ignored me. Damn it, as usual he was clamming up and not talking to me.

And then of course James started crying, and almost instantly my milk started flowing and my stupid tarty outfit now had two big damp patches on the front. I quickly tore it off, threw on my nursing bra, my easy access comfy pyjamas and my fluffy slippers, then went into him as I scraped my hair back out of the way into a loose pony tail. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I went by – what I saw now was Frumpy Mummy Louisa rather than Sexy Temptress Louisa.

James felt hot as I picked him up, and his cheeks were quite red. I put my finger in his mouth as he cried, and felt a tender little bump in his gum at the front – his second tooth was clearly about to make an appearance.

I sat with him in the rocking chair next to his cot and tried to feed him, but he wasn't really interested, so I just cuddled him, listening to the storm raging outside, thinking of the stormy exchange that had just occurred between his father and me.

I'd hated seeing the hurt in Martin's eyes that I'd caused, but why did he need us to get married right away? We'd only been living together for a short time, and there were so many things that we hadn't even begun to sort out yet, things that we hadn't discussed properly – such as his job.

And clearly he didn't understand that just recalling even briefly our abortive attempt at getting married last time around made me feel nauseous and panicky at the very idea of putting us thorough that hell again.

But of course for Martin there was no middle ground. He was so old fashioned and traditional in his outlook, that we had to be married for him to feel that his son was being properly brought up. I thought that this was a bit rich really, considering the fact that he had been quite prepared to leave me to it on my own, right up till James Henry had actually been born. Up to that point, he'd never once asked me to let him be involved with his child or in any way suggested that we try to work things out between us.

"It's different now," he'd said as he'd looked at his son, clearly totally besotted.

But if a quirk of fate hadn't stopped him, he'd have continued on his way, driving out of my life, happily settling back in London, while I'd have given birth on my own in Cornwall, if James had hung on until his due date instead of arriving two weeks early

So although I knew that all that was in the past now, and that Martin was sincere in his wishes for us to be together, I felt that rushing into things again without talking everything through properly was quite simply a very bad idea.

James continued to cry even though he had his cuddly blanket, and just as I decided that he wasn't going to settle without some Calpol to ease his pain, I looked up to see Martin coming into the room, now wearing his buttoned up pyjamas. He refused to look me in the eye as he carefully felt James' forehead and cheek with the back of his hand.

"He seems hot. I'd better check his temperature. Probably teething," he stated, as he too felt inside our baby's mouth. James was pretty tetchy by now, and cried even louder as Martin prodded his gums.

"I was about to give him some Calpol, his gum seems really tender," I replied, as I tried to comfort him.

"Hmm. I'll get him some, he can have it once I've taken his temperature."

With that Martin disappeared for a moment, before quickly reappearing with his medical bag, a bottle of Calpol medicine and a tube of Bonjela teething gel.

He stuck his special instrument thingy in James' ear to take his temperature, and after a short while he grunted.

"Slightly elevated, but he's not feverish."

Then he took James from me, laid him down on the changing unit and quickly but thoroughly checked him over, ignoring his howls of protest. Satisfied that there was nothing more serious wrong, he handed him back, speaking to me as if he was dealing with one of his patients.

"Hold him while I give him the medicine please. Then I'll rub some gel on his gum. Hopefully these measures will ease his discomfort."

Once we'd successfully carried this out, I cuddled James Henry, rocking him and crooning quietly in his ear as I stroked his head, and gradually his crying subsided as the pain relief began to kick in.

I saw Martin staring at us both and tried to read his expression, but when he saw me looking he turned away. He went and stood by the window with his back to us, hands behind his back as he looked out at the storm through the curtains.

"Martin, we really need to talk," I said quietly.

"What is there to say? You've made your feelings quite plain."

"Don't be like that. It's complicated, you know it is."

"I don't think it is. I think it's pretty simple actually. Either you want to marry me, or you don't. And clearly you don't."

"I didn't say that. I just think we need to sort out some important issues before we even can think about anything else."

"Issues? What issues?"

"Such as your job, you being a surgeon again, where we should live, all those issues."

"There are no issues. My job is sorted, I am resuming as the GP here in Portwenn. We can move back into your cottage in the New Year when your tenant vacates. You've said that you are happy to live in that cottage. So there really are no issues that need to be resolved as far as I can see."

"But what about you Martin? What about what you want?" I started to argue, but I was interrupted by the sound of Martin's mobile phone ringing somewhere in the distance.

"Oh for pity's sake! Who the hell is calling me now? I'm not on duty," he exploded, as he strode off to get his phone from the other room.

"Ellingham," I heard him bark. I listened as he was extremely rude and abrupt with whoever it was on the other end of the phone.

"What do you mean? Why can't they get through? It's just a bit of rain for crying out loud, what is this country coming to if they can't manage to send an ambulance out if it's a little bit windy," he bellowed into his handset.

I raised my eyebrows as I listened to the rain beating incessantly against the window, and the sound of a dustbin lid being blown along by the gale force winds outside, as Martin continued to rant.

"So you're expecting me to turn out are you? Well he'd better bloody well be at death's door when I get there."

I gathered that Martin had terminated the call, as I heard his wardrobe door open and then slam shut.

I carried the now very sleepy baby with me as I tentatively went into our room. Martin looked up at me.

"Some stupid arse has decreed that they can't send out an ambulance to a case here in the village due to adverse weather conditions, something about trees blocking the road. Oh but it's OK for me to have to go out to some malingering time waster who has probably over done the sherry and mince pies and now has indigestion."

Despite his bad tempered blustering, I knew that Martin would never refuse to attend a patient.

"Right, I see. Where have you got to go?"

"The Slipway Hotel. Some guest staying for the Christmas break has been taken ill."

"At least you haven't got far to go."

Martin just grunted at me, as he quickly finished dressing and headed downstairs towards his surgery, where I could hear drawers being opened and shut as he gathered together everything he might need.

I followed him down with James still draped over my shoulder, and went into the scullery to retrieve the old Barbour waxed jacket I'd seen hanging up in there.

"Here, put this on over your suit or you'll be soaked by the time you get even the short distance down to the hotel," I insisted as I held it out to him with my one free arm.

He looked at me for a minute before allowing me to help him shrug it on. As he made to leave, I grabbed his arm, and pulled him down to me so that I could gently kiss his cheek.

"We will be talking later, Martin Ellingham, because we're not done yet, right?"

He hesitated for just a couple of seconds, before saying,

"Look, don't wait up for me, I've no idea how long I'm going to be. Just get James settled, he should be fine now."

Then he opened the kitchen door, and it was almost torn from his grasp by the strength of the gust of wind outside, then it slammed shut and he was gone.

Calpol is a Paracetamol liquid medicine that can be used in infants from 2 months old for pain relief