Previously on Doc Martin: The Movie: Martin has some time on his hands after closing the surgery for two weeks so he could attend the two week course which ended up being cancelled. He and Penhale were attempting to investigate some cases of suspected poisoning but ended up being attacked by a mysterious drone. At the same time famed movie actor Jago Powell is planning a masked ball for the village and Louisa is his special invited guest. Pauline and Al have decided to skip the ball to have a quiet date night.

Chapter 25: Getting Ready for the Ball

Friday

For the next few days Martin just wanted to enjoy some peace and quiet but he couldn't help but notice there seemed to be an increase in vans coming into the village, making deliveries and blocking traffic. The Village Hall was being decorated with fairy lights and a large marquee tent was being erected beside the Platt. It was all most inconvenient.

Suddenly it was all anyone could talk about. The landlord of the Crab and Lobster was more interested in how he was going to fill the enormous beer and cider order for the big night than in monitoring his diabetes. The baker, the florist, and the musician fellow who played in the local pub band were more interested in talking about their contributions to the ball than in telling him the symptoms of their various ailments.

Bert Large was sulking that he couldn't somehow get in on the action, though preparations for the ball did not seem to require the talents of a plumber. Even the roving girl pack were more preoccupied in gossiping about the festivities than in mocking Martin as they passed in the street, though they were too young to attend the ball. As annoying as it was, Martin reasoned that the fascination with the upcoming event had apparently suppressed word of his and Penhale's bizarre adventure at the cottage and in the mine from getting around.

On the morning of the big day, Martin set out to get his shopping done early, before the crowds started to take over the village centre. He went to the fishmonger to get something for dinner.

"Haddock looks good today, Doc," said the fishmonger.

The man was always too forward, Martin thought, but he conceded the haddock did indeed look good. He decided on a single fillet and the man began to wrap it up for him.

"So you excited about the big do tonight?" the fishmonger went on. "I hear Jago Powell's going all out. There's gonna be traditional Cornish music to start, a rock band, and then waltzes for the midnight hour. Dancing to suit every taste. Fireworks at midnight too."

Martin didn't respond, but the man prattled on anyway. "Got your costume all sorted? The wife's been working on ours for days now, got the sewing machine going non-stop. They're looking pretty impressive if I don't mind saying. I know it's supposed to be a secret, with the masks and all, but…" He leaned forward and stage whispered dramatically. "We're going as Peter Pan and Captain Hook. Don't need to tell you which is which, eh?"

Martin took the wrapped parcel from the man with a grunt and handed over his money.

"Oh hey, Miss Glasson!" the fishmonger shouted over Martin's shoulder. "Nice to see you back home, in time for the big night."

Martin whirled around. "Louisa!"

"Martin!"

He pondered the tone of her voice, it was so hard to tell sometimes what she was thinking. She sounded surprised to see him, but genuinely happy. Her hazel green eyes had a soft look, almost tearing up. The memory of how they had argued at their last meeting brought a hot sting to his own eyes. He hadn't had the nerve to seek her out in the last few days but had hoped to run into her. Now that he had, he wanted so much to apologize to her but he wasn't sure how or even for what.

They both stood there in the shop doorway, looking at each other, each waiting for the other to say something.

Martin ducked his head and managed to come out with some words. "Er, how is your father doing?"

She smiled shyly and looked down, slightly embarrassed. "He's fine. I'm mean he's doing as well as can be expected… under the circumstances."

"I'm sure it's not easy for you… under the circumstances."

Martin thought she wanted to tell him something. He wanted to move toward her, take her in his arms and confide in her every terrible thing that had happened to him lately. Most of all he wanted to tell her how much he had missed her and how sorry he was that they had argued on being reunited, but he was paralyzed to make the first move. Besides, the annoying fishmonger was grinning at them, obviously keen to pick up any bits of gossip about the notorious Terry Glasson, or at least about the local GP and the head teacher.

Martin gently took Louisa by the arm and moved them both away from the man.

"Er, about the other day, at Wenn Hall. I wasn't expecting to see you there, it was… a surprise."

"A pleasant surprise, I hope," she teased him gently. "You know, I really was happy to see you there, but it was, as you said, a surprise."

Martin felt encouraged. "Would you, perhaps, like to join me for dinner tonight?" He held up the wrapped parcel. "I could easily get more haddock. It looks quite good today. Or we could go out, if you prefer."

She was definitely smiling now. "I would love to, Martin, but not tonight silly. The masked ball is tonight. Jago gave me his personal invitation."

Martin felt himself tensing up again at the mention of the actor.

Louisa went on excitedly. "I made a ball gown back when I was in school, it's midnight blue velvet with gold trim. I played Cinderella in the school musical, and can you believe it, the gown still fits. I can't wait to wear it again. And I was hoping…" She looked down again and smiled shyly. "I know you don't enjoy dancing and crowds and, well, fun, but I thought maybe you might be interested in accompanying me. It's the biggest event in Portwenn since… ever."

Martin shook his head. "I just don't do costumes and masks and that all nonsense. Louisa, I wish you could have given me some notice when you were coming back. We could be spending time together, going over everything that's happened, instead of talking about this silly event."

"Well, I think it's fantastic what Jago's doing for the village," Louisa was beginning to sound defensive. "He's really very humble, considering how famous he is now. You know, he was recently granted an OBE."

"I don't care if he's been crowned the bloody Duchess of Cornwall! I'm sick of this actor and this movie and this ridiculous ball being the only thing the idiots of Portwenn can talk about!" He knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as it was out of his mouth.

"Oh Martin, you are just so… exasperating!"

She strode away, ponytail waving furiously. Martin watched her go in frustration. I never even got to tell her I judged the bloody pig contest like she wanted, he thought.

The fishmonger, watching through the open shop door, caught his eye and grinned again. "Duchess of Cornwall doesn't wear a crown, Doc!" he shouted.

Martin sneered and turned away.

He went home and tried to take his mind off the situation by giving the surgery office a thorough cleaning, then throwing himself into preparing the haddock. After dinner and washing up, he made himself a cup of tea and cautiously stepped out onto the stone terrace for a breath of the evening air. The blasted gull seemed to have disappeared, at least for now. He could hear the faint sounds of fiddle and accordion music coming from the big tent on the Platt. Night was falling but in the distance he could see low dark clouds far out over the ocean, scudding across the sky from the southwest. The air felt heavy and oppressively warm but moody, fitful gusts of wind were beginning to whip up the waves coming into the harbour.

Martin went back inside and laid out on the office desk his horology tools, including the newly re-sharpened tiny screwdriver he had used to pick the padlock. A thumping bass line started up, apparently the rock band had taken the stage at the ball. The sound echoed off the surrounding hills including the one on which his cottage sat. He got up and slammed the window shut, mostly muting the noise. He took out the mahogany Regency-style mantel clock.

He opened the back of the clock and made an adjustment to test the mechanism. The Westminster chimes sweetly sounded, like a miniature Big Ben. He looked at the lovely, delicately carved case and thought about how if he could get it working he had planned to give it as a gift to Louisa. He sighed, and wondered if he would ever get the chance. Perhaps he was wrong to have turned down her invitation to the ball. The thought of donning some ridiculous get-up and mingling with the masses in the large tent caused him to scowl, but so did the thought of Louisa cavorting on the dance floor with that actor Powell. The Portwenn Players Ball of the previous year had been ample demonstration of the kind of debauchery the village idiots could get up to with a bit of alcohol and music. Still, he couldn't very well go down there now, not after arguing with Louisa about it. He focused his attention to the task at hand, fixing the little clock. Long experience had taught him work was the best method of distracting one's mind from dwelling on unpleasant realities.

The office phone rang and he ignored it. The answer phone came on with Pauline's rhyming message that he kept meaning to replace. Then Penhale's voice was heard, with party noise in the background. "Doc? Doc? If you're there, pick up."

He picked up. "Penhale. The music is far too loud. Tell them to turn it off."

"No can do, Doc. The party's in full swing. But we need you down here. There's a situation."

"What sort of situation? Is it a genuine medical emergency? Is Louisa all right?"

"Can't really explain over the phone. You have to get down here to see it. But I can tell you this, I suspect our poisoner may have struck again."

Alarmed, Martin slammed down the phone, grabbed his medical bag, and ran out the door.

To be continued…