Hope

Danny did fine, in hospital. He was really, really sick but thanks to Martin's intervention he lived to get treatment and that's about as unemotional as I could put it. The morning of Danny's admission I bumped into Roger Fenn at hospital and I heard all about how he and Maureen were going to have twins.

"A bit of a shock, but isn't it bloody fantastic?" Roger exclaimed. "Just takin' her some more flowers!" he held a huge bunch.

"Wow, Roger!" I hugged him, "That is good news, isn't it?" Maureen was preggers. Wow! She was fifty years old? Well Louisa, you're not quite a teenager yourself. "And twins as well!"

Roger pulled me aside in the busy hallway. "Now what are you doing here?"

I had to fill him on Danny's dust exposure thing. "But Martin came straight away, poked this hole in his chest, I thought he was doing something horrid, but it was lifesaving. 'Meatball surgery' the ambulance medic called it."

Roger ducked his head. "He is amazing, isn't he? Gruff bugger but…"

"We'd all be in trouble without him, yeah." I bit more words back. "And Maureen is doing fine? I'll have to visit."

"Oh God yes! The OB folks say the boys are doing fine - the babies are boys, did I say that - and Maureen can't wait to get big as a house."

"How far along as she?"

"Scans say about 30 weeks." He smiled hugely. "I'm going to be a dad, again! I can't wait to tell my daughter she'd going to have half-brothers! She'll be shattered!"

"You don't see her; your girl, do you?"

He shook his head sadly. "No. I messed up that marriage. Maybe I'm getting a second chance?"

A second chance. That phrase had been going thru my head. Me and Martin - I keep giving him second chances; more like fourth or fifth chances lately. "Roger I am so happy for you; both of you."

Roger hugged me again. "Where there's life there's hope, right!"

"Give my love to Maureen. But this thing with Danny, it was brilliant, just…"

Roger held my shoulder. "Louisa… I… and how are…"

"What?"

He looked long and hard at me. "Nothing. Tell Danny we're pulling for him."

"Right." I went back to the A&E department to see when Danny would be transferred to a ward.

A few days later I was heading to school and I came across Mark Mylow and we discussed the wedding. Poor man was concerned that I might feel odd coming to his wedding to Julie. I assured him I was fine; looking forward to it.

"Well, we do have a bit of a history, is all."

One sorta date that wasn't and he figured it was a history? Danny and me had a history, a tiny one, but me and Mylow? No. "I'd like to be there." Mark had a wistful look. "You alright Mark? You look down."

"Water under the bridge eh. Fine - just the Doc - asked him… to be my best man, but…"

"Oh dear," I said for I knew how high expectations could get on the relationship front, for how many times had Martin disappointed me?

"You think I done something to annoy him?"

"I doubt it."

"You probably know him better than anyone else 'round here. Has he said anything?"

Did I? Well if I did it was far away from any sort of normal sort of rapport. "I haven't spoken to him recently. Just try not to take it personal."

"You know what he's like; not one to explain his ways. Sometimes it's like he's being… well, rude."

"Yes, he is rude." Further chatting was stopped by a football crashing against Mark kicked by one of the students on their way to school, my school! "James Whyte! Look, Mark, I'm sure you're going to find someone else." Then I started hectoring the kids. "Get to school! Come on! All you lot! Move it!"

So Mark finally noticed that Martin was rude. Rude was such a lovely word. Tying that in with harsh, ungrateful, obstinate, opinionated, uncouth, impolite, uncivil and discourteous were just some of the words to describe our new GP. So on that same day at lunch I bolted my food down and marched straight up to the surgery to beard the lion in his dean.

Martin Ellingham was clearly surprised to see me. "Martin, a word," I told him and marched into his office.

He followed with obvious caution. He swung the door closed so we had some privacy, but I had a feeling that Pauline would have her ear to the thin door in no time. Marti started with, "I'm sure you are aware that unless it's an absolute emergency it is a waste of my time…"

I took a very deep breath and plunged in on him. "Well I would consider this an emergency of sorts! Now you might think you not a part of this village, but you are like it or not! We're a small community, almost a family, and sometimes people feel a little put out about the way you are. And sometimes people feel that you just don't care, and I think it's just about time that someone told you that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a job to get back to." I turned to the door and stopped. "And I didn't tell you what I was talking, about did I?" Bugger. That came out awkwardly.

"No." He stood there with his usual quizzical look probably thinking the mad head teacher launches herself on another one of her rants.

"Erm, I… bumped into Mark this morning and he was quite upset."

"I'm simply not qualified to be his best man. Apart from the fact that he's the local policeman I know absolutely nothing about him."

"Precisely because you never bother to ask!" I tore into him.

"Precisely because I am not remotely interested! Are you?"

"Martin," I sighed, "Mark likes you and you've upset him." I stomped to the door, well as much as could in three inch wedge shoes. The door met my hand and I went through, closed it and stopped. Damn it there was something else! I stuck my head back inside. "And by the way Danny is doing very well. Thank you for saving his life."

I could have sworn I heard a muttered "Thank you" after I closed the office door once more.

Pauline shook her head as I passed her desk. "Sorry Louisa," she said. "He's… just that way. I heard what went on, is all."

"Yeah, of course you did." I went back to school in a huff. But this is just what I had been telling Mark. He was … different. He really didn't are about the village? Was that what he said? All the little bits of business in the village and he just had not a care? That explained a lot.

Saturday morning was the school fete and I was on a ladder tying up a banner across the play yard mouth when I saw Martin marching past clutching a paper and a container of milk. "I hear Al is going to be best man."

"So I gather." He came towards me. "That's a happy ending then."

"It still doesn't excuse what you did Martin." The wind was flapping the banner and the other end fell.

Martin pointed out the fallen banner. "That's come down now."

"Well can you pick up please?!"

"Yes mum." He took the fallen banner and tried to re-anchor it.

He was razed by Frank who was with his mates. "Hey Doc! Nice one, Miss! Lead him to it!"

I really wasn't quite sure what the kid meant, but it did make Martin help. "You have to tie a square knot, so it doesn't slip." Martin explained. "Granny knots, though they can also be tight, cannot easily be untied."

"Oh, were you a Scout?"

"No. It's a basic knot they teach in stitching practice. Never used with sutures though."

"Oh." The banner flapped me right in the face.

"Louisa?" Martin yelled. "You alright?"

"Yes. I'd hoped to have this up before, but there were so many things to do this morning."

Martin came to me and steadied the ladder, looking up at me. "You need help."

"I'd hoped I'd have more."

"Ah." He squinted up at me in the sun. "Well, I'll be off," he said as I came off the ladder.

"Thanks Martin."

He ducked his head and walked away, glancing back as he did. I'd sort of hoped he might stick around. Oh Louisa, why bother?

"You know what?" I answered that bothersome voice, for I still had hope to bridge the gap.

"What's that?" Martin asked.

"Oh, could you help for a minute over here?"

He nodded. "Of course."

"It's just that you're very tall…"

"I am."

"And I wanted to put another hook just up there." I pointed up the side of the school.

Martin looked from me to the spot I was pointing to. "You can't reach that."

"I did try… even stood on the top of the ladder…"

"What? You stood on the very top of the ladder? Louisa… that is entirely unsafe to put your shoes above the second rung from the top. Surely you recognize that a fall from that height could cause serious injuries!"

"I'm touched that you care about someone."

He looked at me sharply, looked around then stepped closer. "Louisa," now he nearly whispered, "I could not bear to see you… erh… anyone fall off a rickety ladder such as this one." He shook the one I'd just been on. "Can we find another? Less of an antique death trap?"

He did care? "Mr. Coley has another, a purple one around the side just there."

Martin went off then came back with the ladder. "Where, uhm… do you want this hook?"

"Up there, by that crack. Could you screw this hook," I gave the thing to him, "in there?"

"Shouldn't be difficult. You have tools?"

There was a toolbox at my feet. "What you want?"

"A pair of pliers and the longest screw driver you've got in there."

"Let me see…" I rooted about. "Yep. Here."

Martin looked at what I gave him like he'd never seen hand tools. "Can you brace the ladder for me?"

"Sure." We set it firmly on the ground and Martin climbed.

"Kept it well braced!" he advised, "And if it starts to shift and I'm falling, let go and clear out!"

"So you'd rather hit the pavement than have me catch you?"

He forced the screw hook into the crack in the stucco holding it with pliers and twisted. "No talking."

"Oh, right," I whispered, "don't want to bother the surgeon at work."

"Here." He gave me the pliers then with the screw driver as a lever wound the large screw hook into the wall. He wiggled it. "There. Seems secure."

He got off the ladder and gave me the screwdriver. "Where's your custodian? Shouldn't he be doing this?"

I shrugged. "Thanks Martin." I put the tools back in the toolkit. "Better get these back where they belong or Danny will have a fit." I closed the box and found Martin giving me a wary look. "Quite a stickler… when it comes to his tools."

"Right." He sniffed. "I'll bet he is." He then folded the ladder and moved it out of the way.

I had to admire the way his suit fit for it was well made. I bet this was the first time he'd climbed a ladder in it. "Thank you."

"Right," he said as he pulled on the rope making the other banner stretch across the yard.

Pauline came by. "Always knew you had that community spirit deep down in you doc, very deep down." She addressed Martin directly. "Stop by my stool, doing henna touches and hair braiding," she giggled as she walked away. "Give you a discount if you're nice to me."

"Alright, I'll be off then," he said to that.

"Martin, could you help me with one more thing?" I asked him. People were setting up the sales tables for bric-a-brac, jumbles, as well as craft and art projects, and refreshments.

I set Martin work with a stapler attached some streamers to a pole. "Thanks Martin; you have the height advantage."

"Ah, uhm, yes." He set the staples quickly. "That should do it."

I was arranged art on a table and there wasn't much time before the fete started; twenty minutes of less, must be. "My kids did these."

He finished with his chore and picked up a painting. "It's a horse."

I glanced at it. "No it's a church."

"Church?" He inspected it further. "It's not very good is it?"

"It was done by a four-year-old."

"Still looks like a horse."

Joey, who was one of the teenage boys that had jeered at Martin, ran up just then, all out of breath. "Doc! It's Jack, on the beach!"

"What is it?"

"A weaver - one of those stinging things! You know, a jellyfish?"

The doc sneered. "I thought you could find your own bottle of hot water?"

"No, he's choking!" the kid yelled.

"An alternative remedy is to urinate on the sting. Can you do that?"

"Doc! He can't hardly breathe for nothin'!"

Now the boy was shouting so I peered over the edge to the tidal beach far below. Sure enough I saw the teens down there and one of them was lying on the ground. "Martin!"

Martin took a look and gasped then he turned and started running. "Pauline! Fetch my medical bag and meet me on the beach!"

I took off after him and Pauline ran as well. At the Platt, Pauline scurried up hill and I tailed Martin to the tide line.

Martin dropped to his knees on the sandy shingle next to a boy who was gasping.

"We weren't doin' anything!" one of the boys shouted. "Nothin'!"

"They're not supposed to be poisonous," said another.

"He's in anaphylactic shock," Martin pronounced. "It's a bad reaction to the sting."

"Is he gonna die?" asked Joey.

"Yeah," said Martin, "unless he gets an immediate injection of adrenaline."

Frank said in horror. "It's just a game."

"This wasn't supposed to happen," added Joey now in tears.

Martin looked around. "Where's Pauline?"

Pauline Lamb scurried across the mud with Martin's medical bag.

"A game. Jack found a weaver, and was seein' how long you could hold it - take the pain. You know." Frank fidgeted. "Just a game."

That set me off. "That is the MOST irresponsible thing I have ever heard!"

"He's gonna be okay, though, ain't he?" Joey asked.

Martin ripped open his bag and pulled out a metal tube which he uncapped and jabbed into the sick kid's arm. In a few seconds Jack's straining noise turned into a giant gasp and then he was getting air. "Yeah, that's better." Martin took his pulse and examined his throat. "Much."

"All the thanks' for me Doc!" laughed Pauline, who was panting, still out of breath.

Martin ignored her.

"Well, it's no harm done, right?" Joey asked.

"What were you thinking?" I practically screamed. "Whose idea was this, Joey? Are you stupid?"

Martin peered at the kids. "Maybe next time you'll get really lucky and there won't be anyone to help. And he'll die. That would funny."

The kids dug their shoes into the sand and tried to turn invisible.

"Wouldn't it?" Martin prodded.

Jack Jenkins, the kid who'd been stung was now sitting up. "Look, have these so-called friends of your get you home. Wash your arm in warm water and soap. Then have your mum or dad call me. Right?"

Jack was helped to his feet by his friends. "So you like saved my life."

Martin only nodded then he left. I caught up with him. "Thank God you're here."

"Well, that makes a change I suppose," he muttered.

"Uhm, Martin, of course we're glad." I wanted to tell him we did need him and we did care about him, but my words died in my throat when Pauline ran up with an emergency call on her mobile.

I listened as it became clear that Mark Mylow had been bitten by an adder on his stag campout. Luckily Al Large had been able to get a signal for his mobile.

Martin took the phone from his ear. "Damn - lost the signal. How do I get out to West Point?"

"Why?"

"Mark Mylow's been bitten by a snake in the woods near there."

"Stewart - the Ranger. He can help," I said.

"I'm not sure I want to be guided by someone whose best friend is a six-foot tall squirrel."

"Listen Doc, He might be short of a few sandwiches, but he knows those forests," Pauline told him. "He can help."

"I'd better go and tell Julie." I rushed off knowing that Martin would do what it took to find them. "I'll know you can do it, Martin," I said to myself. "At least I hope you can."