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

Happy Ever After – The Real World

Chapter 12

I'd grumbled that the patient I'd been called out to see had better be at death's door. As it turned out, he'd already passed right through to the other side, and there was nothing that I could do for him. There would have to be a post mortem examination, but it looked as if he'd suffered a massive coronary thrombosis, and he would have died pretty much instantly. So no happy ending to his Christmas day, or for the distraught woman who had apparently been his girlfriend. She informed me that he'd brought her down to Cornwall for a romantic break, some special deal he'd booked for them at the hotel, and he'd used the occasion to propose, much to her delight.

Unusually, he didn't appear to have been the average candidate for a heart attack. He was relatively young – about my own age – not overweight or a smoker, and seemed quite fit from what I could assess. It just proved that there is always the exception to the general rule, and no one could afford to be complacent. I made a mental note to run some checks for both myself and Louisa in the very near future to update our cardiovascular disease assessments.

I didn't consider it my responsibility to console grieving relatives, so I was thankful that the hotel staff took it upon themselves to provide assistance to the woman, who was making quite a fuss with all her wailing and crying. I suspected that they wanted to try and quieten her down so that she didn't disturb the other hotel guests, as that was obviously not very good for business. I was then able to get on with the necessary admin and paperwork, which of course took ages.

Finally I was able to leave and make my way back up the hill to my home, through the still raging wind and heavy rain. It was now the early hours of the morning as I let myself into through the back door, to find everything quiet and still.

First off I hung up my old barbour jacket in the scullery to dry, and then I quickly towel dried my hair. Before going upstairs, I stopped in the lounge to check that the Christmas tree lights had been switched off, and that the fire was now completely out. I stood and looked as I recalled the intense passion that Louisa and I had experienced just a short while ago on the rug that was still there in front of the fire. So where did things stand between us now? I really had no idea.

I made my way upstairs very quietly, and went first to the nursery to check on James Henry. He was fast asleep, wearing a fleecy all in one suit that had little reindeer and Santa figures all over it. What Louisa intended to do with these Christmas themed outfits once the festive season had passed I couldn't imagine, but I had to admit that he did look particularly cosy in this one. I gently tucked him in without disturbing him, as I felt his cheek and forehead – he didn't seem as hot as he had done earlier thankfully.

Then I went into our bedroom. Louisa had left a night light on, so I didn't need to put the main light on to make my way over to the en suite bathroom. I could see her sleeping, curled up on her right hand side as usual, her dark glossy hair spread over the pillow. I couldn't help but stop and stare at her for a short while, still not quite able to believe that this beautiful woman was really here, in my bed, and that it wasn't a dream, before gathering myself to head for the bathroom and quickly complete my ablutions.

Then, as I carefully pulled back the duvet to get into bed, I saw what appeared to be a letter of some sort on my pillow. On closer inspection, I saw that it was addressed to me, in Louisa's distinctive handwriting. Immediately, the last letter she had written to me sprang to mind, the one she'd handed to me when she'd come round to call off our wedding. I hardly dared to read this one in case it was the same, telling me that we were through, that it was over between us, and I slumped down on the edge of the bed, just looking at it in my hand. But there was no point in putting it off, I knew I had to read it, so I took a deep breath and then unfolded it.

My darling Martin,

I've been trying to stay awake until you got back, but I can't keep my eyes open much longer, so I'm going to write down what I need to say to you.

I love you very, very much, and have done for the longest time. You said that I don't love you enough to want to marry you, but that's not true at all. It's because of how much I love you that I want to be sure that we get things right this time. The first time you proposed, do you remember how I jumped into your arms and joyfully accepted without a second thought – and look where that got us. I don't want to risk spoiling everything again – although from your reaction tonight, perhaps I already have. I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you like that, especially not today, and not when we'd just had such a wonderful time together- you are such a dark horse at times with your amazing skills.

I really want us to be together, to be lovers, for the rest of our lives So I want you to think about things this way Martin. Marriage is a huge commitment, a major undertaking. Now imagine if you were going to perform major surgery on a patient – you'd spend quite a bit of time researching and planning the procedure wouldn't you? You wouldn't just rush in and operate without thinking it through, you would want to be as prepared as you possibly could for every eventuality that might crop up. That doesn't mean that you would refuse to operate once you felt that you were properly prepared and ready.

So shouldn't you think the same way about getting married? Logically, shouldn't we consider all the things that will make us happy together, but also prepare for anything that could potentially cause problems between us? Now that we have our child, we simply can't afford to take risks with his happiness.

So I want you to sit down with me and TALK! Talk to me about what would make you happy and fulfilled. I'm worried that you have sublimated your feelings about returning to surgery and decided to stay on as a GP because you believe that will make me happy. But think ahead to how you will feel in a year's time, five years, ten years time. That's what worries me about suppressing your true feelings, they will inevitably resurface at some point.

I love you so much Martin and I really desperately want everything to work out between us this time. So let's sit down in the morning and talk properly about everything, like the adults that we're meant to be. Please?

L xxx

I read it through several times, trying to work out what Louisa was really saying. She said she loved me. She wasn't talking about moving out, or leaving me, so I was immensely relieved. She wanted us to talk more about everything, which I still didn't see the point of. But by now I was desperately tired, so I decided that I would just have to see how things were in the morning, as I gratefully slipped into bed next to Louisa.

Louisa stirred and turned towards me.

"My Martin," she murmured sleepily, as she cuddled up to me. She was all warm and soft, and smelt of her nice shower gel, and she was totally irresistible. Of course I couldn't be upset with her any more, so instead I pulled her even closer to me.

I was indeed 'her Martin', and I always would be, whether we got married or not. Her letter said that she loved me, and she even talked about wanting us to be together for 'the rest of our lives'. Maybe I just had to calm down, be patient, try not to force things between us, but be thankful and accept things as they were for now.

After all, this was a whole lot more than that poor sod that I had just declared dead down at the hotel had.

I just had to hope that in time, Louisa would come round to my way of thinking on the subject of marriage.