Slowly over the next few days the general soreness and stiffness from the beating his body had taken dissipated. Martin's ribs were still a problem but at least now every movement didn't cause pain. That combined with Louisa's attentiveness had him feeling much better. Consequently, two weeks after his release from hospital Martin was on the phone to Chris Parson trying to convince Chris that he was ready to return to work. Chris chided him good naturedly and then more firmly told him that until his doctors who had him under their care released him, Martin was not to give it even a thought. "We're making do, Martin. I have a locum arranged and he should be showing up at your surgery next week. In the meantime, the villagers are making their way to Wadebridge. "

"Yes, but…"

"No Martin, I can't allow it. Besides, don't you have better things to do than worry about sniveley noses and rashes? Go snog your wife, for goodness sake; you could use the sweetening up. And she's just the woman to do it too."

Martin felt as if he would explode. "Don't speak like that about Louisa!"

Chris chuckled on the other end. "We'll talk again after your doctors have released you, Martin."

The call ended with Martin n a sour mood. He made his way from his consulting room to the kitchen, ducking below the stairs and grimacing a the resulting pain in his ribs. He considered a cup of espresso but decided against it and went in search of Louisa and James instead.

They were upstairs in James' room, just finishing a nappy change. "Oh…erm…." He mumbled when he came upon them. "I… you weren't downstairs."

Louisa turned, holding James on her hip. James, upon seeing his father grinned and began to babble baby sounds before giggling. Louisa smiled at the boy. "Oh no little man, your Daddy isn't able to hold you just yet."

Martin reached for his hand and held it in his much larger one as he peered into the boy's face. His frustration from the phone conversation melted away in the wake of his baby's answering smile. He could feel Louisa watching him and moved his eyes from his son's face to hers. She was smiling at him and suddenly he was at peace.

"You needed me for something?" she asked.

"No, not really; I just…I missed you," he admitted.

He was surprised when her eyes became watery. Frowning, he wondered how he had ruined things this time. "You…you're crying?"

"Happy tears, Martin."

Tilting his head in confusion, he looked at her again. "I don't understand."

"You said you missed me. It was nice to hear."

"Oh." He thought momentarily and replied, "I always do… whenever you are …absent."

"You've never expressed it before," she said neutrally.

Martin looked away, thinking. He started to speak and then hesitated. Finally he said, "I…I thought it was obvious; it was to me, at least. I thought you knew."

"No, I didn't. I don't want to make an issue of it but I do want you to understand my meaning. For instance, I remember coming home from my first day back at school and saying how much I had missed you both. Then I asked about your day and all I got was that you were fine. Didn't make me feel missed, I can assure you."

Martin tried to remember that conversation. It was when he still so adamantly against her return to work and he honestly didn't remember much beyond his own frustration. "I… I'm sorry I wasn't more…expressive," he said cautiously. "I didn't want you to work and it frustrated me."

"I know it did," she said lightly. "I don't think you've ever understood why it is so important to me; but that is a different discussion. For now, it was just very nice to hear that you missed me."

He stared at her in wonder. She had managed to guide them through a very volatile conversation without as much as a cross word. He swallowed and nodded. "Then I shall say it more often."

She smiled at him again, her eyes lighting. "We really are learning to do better, aren't we?"

"God, I hope so," he sighed.

He was growing restless, Louisa realized as she watched Martin prowl the house later that day. Martin had never learned about vacations or time away and consequently didn't know how to relax. His free time had always been filled with reading or tinkering…his clocks. It struck her like a bolt of lightning. "Martin, why don't you use this time to finish your clock? I know you have that one from the shop in Wadebridge."

"Ummm….no, I'd…I'd rather not. Not now anyway. I thought… " he swallowed and Louisa recognized the signs. He was having trouble finding the words or perhaps the courage to say what he was thinking.

"What Martin? What are you thinking?"

"Chris said the locum will be here next week and … well, I thought we might… I mean, ot would be so cramped and patients will be in and out and… I thought perhaps we could stay… someplace else."

"Where? My cottage is rented again. I suppose the farm…"

"No… I thought we might, well at first I thought we might go to London but…"

"Martin, no…I don't…"

"I know. And I shouldn't really go too far. But there is an inn not too far away. It is where Daphne du Maurier stayed when she wrote her book Jamaica Inn. I've read that it has been refurbished and … and since we never made it on our honeymoon… "

"You want to stay at Jamaica Inn? Isn't it completely booked?"

"I called. They had a cancellation and we could have the space…next week."

Louisa looked at him perplexed. Where had that come from? But she had to admit that the idea did have appeal. And the way he was looking at her, so hopeful…almost childlike… "Alright, yes. Let's do it."

She watched as shadows of disbelief passed across his face and then a smile almost broke at his mouth. "I'll call them then?"

"Yes. Now, before someone else snatches the booking."

His eyes lit as he pulled his phone from his pocket and made the call. As Louisa watched him, she couldn't hide her smile. He seemed happy, truly happy.