Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.
Happy Ever After – The Real World
Chapter 28
Suddenly, everything seemed to be happening all at once.
Having spoken to Chris Parsons to confirm that he'd definitely recommend the architect and builders that had undertaken his barn conversion, Martin gave the go ahead for them to start work on Havenhurst, on the basis of the quotes that Ruth had already obtained from them. It was the end of the winter, spring was coming, so it was a good time for them to get cracking on it.
Of course, Martin gave them detailed instructions on which tasks he wanted prioritised and exactly how he wanted the work to be completed. The aim was to undertake the most disruptive jobs, such as the new roof, the re-wiring and the plumbing, before we moved in. Ruth had volunteered to spend the last month of her sabbatical leave staying on to oversee the builders, but Martin insisted she stay at Fern Cottage once the work started. Chris had advised him that the way to get the job done most efficiently and quickly was to appoint the architect to run the project, so that's what Martin did.
"But it's more expensive to get the architect to run it," I worried. "Couldn't we just keep an eye on things, pop up after work and so on?"
"I certainly haven't got time to go chasing after builders and tradesmen, and neither have you with your job and the baby to look after, so I think it makes far more sense to let the supposed expert get on with it. I've made sure that we've agreed a fixed price, so even if work overruns, it won't cost anymore."
As I knew very little about building work, I decided that maybe Martin was right on this one, and anyway, it was his money. If he'd got a fixed price, then at least we knew where we stood I supposed.
We'd agreed to go ahead with everything even though we still hadn't got a solution about what to do with the working farm side of things, deciding that we could no doubt sell or give the animals away and just leave the field fallow if needs be for the time being.
I was still keen on the idea of keeping the chickens, as I'd read up on them and they didn't seem to be too hard to cope with. I think Martin hoped that I'd find them too much work and get fed up with them pretty quickly. We planned to set aside a garden area, and at some point in the future maybe have it landscaped. The main thing would be to have a garden that James Henry could safely play in.
Then one evening I took a phone call from Ruth. She asked to speak to Martin, but as he'd been called out, she had to make do with me.
"You know I said I'd mentioned the land to Bill Pratt over on the neighbouring farm to see if he'd be interested in buying or renting it? Well, he's finally got back to me," she said.
I knew Bill and Linda Pratt because their two children, Tom and Martha, were at my school – nice kids they were too. Bill was the nephew of old Phil Pratt, and he'd taken over the farm when things had got too much for Phil and he'd gone off to retire with his boyfriend in Torquay.
I knew the Pratt's had been struggling to make a go of things, and were looking to diversify to bring in some much needed extra income. Like many farms in the area, they already ran a B & B on the side, and I knew Bill also organised fishing trips for the tourists in the summer.
"They drew up a business plan for the bank to request a loan, proposing to buy the extra land to keep ponies and horses so that they could start a riding school, with the idea that they could run activity holidays, pony trekking and such like, for kids in the school holidays, and for adults at other times of the year. The wife is into horses and all that apparently."
"Sounds like a brilliant idea," I enthused.
"The bank is being very cautious though, and won't back them as it thinks borrowing the required amount of money would over extend them, even though they think the actual plan is sound in principal." Ruth continued.
"Oh what a shame, they must be disappointed."
"Well, there is a compromise, which I don't know if you and Martin would be interested in, because it wouldn't raise as much capital initially," Ruth said.
"Go on," I replied, intrigued.
"The bank has suggested that they rent rather than buy the land, and are prepared to grant them a slightly higher overdraft so that they can set up the business in time for the summer season this year," Ruth explained.
"That sounds feasible, and actually I'd be quite happy not to sell the land, if I'm honest," I said, not elaborating to Ruth my secret suspicion that James might one day want to be a farmer. As a true Ellingham, she would no doubt be of the same opinion as Martin – medicine would be the only possible career choice for our son.
"Well, you discuss it with Martin, see what he thinks," Ruth suggested, and so we left it at that. I couldn't really see any reason why Martin would object to the land being rented to the Pratts – it would provide a simple, workable solution about the land. I didn't suppose he liked horses any more than he liked dogs or any other pets, but I thought that as long as he didn't have to have anything to do with any of it, it wouldn't worry him. In any case, the Pratts were happy to take the dozen or so sheep that Joan had kept and that Al had been minding for Ruth, as they intended to also have a petting zoo as an added attraction.
So, there could be a pony school next door. I thought that would be really great, and I was already imagining James having riding lessons.
When I'd been a little girl, I used to dream of having a pony of my own, probably because I'd seen so many horses on the little TV screen in the betting shop that I used to spend a lot of time in with my dad.
"Don't you worry Princess, I'm going to get you a pony of your very own for your next birthday, you'll see," he promised me on a regular basis.
I remember waking up on my seventh birthday, and being so excited, as I asked my mum what colour she thought the pony my dad had got for me was.
"Pony? What pony? Oh Lulu, you didn't really think he'd get you one did you?"
My mother laughed at my disappointed face and my tears.
"Never mind, you'll soon get used to his broken promises I'm afraid sweetheart. You'll learn quick enough that man's big on words and short on action," she told me. "And anyway, where did you think we'd keep a pony? Ponies are for rich folk with money and land, not for the likes of us."
Of course she was right. I did get used to broken promises, and ponies were for rich folk.
xXx
"Don't forget that I was the lay member on your interview board," I reminded Martin. He'd looked surprised when I'd offered to go through the applications for his partner vacancy with him. Now he stared at me for a moment.
"Yes, and you were the only objector to my appointment as I recall," he pointed out. "Gave me quite a hard time didn't you?"
"Well if by that you mean that I didn't instantly fall for your 'I'm a really important consultant doing you a big favour by coming to your lowly little village' routine, then yes, I suppose I did."
"Hmm. Cast your eye over these candidates then," Martin grunted as he passed the papers over. "I've narrowed it down to these three."
I read with interest the C.V.'s of the doctors concerned. I didn't bother to check out their professional qualifications, as they wouldn't have made it to Martin's short list if they hadn't been suitably qualified.
The first was Brendan Taylor, a GP from the leafy suburbs of Surrey, in his mid-fifties, who was looking to semi retire down in Cornwall. His hobbies included sailing and sea fishing I noted.
"He'd probably fit in with the locals quite well I suppose," I said, as I read. "But is he always going to be out on a boat somewhere if you were trying to get him in an emergency?"
"Yes, I wondered that," Martin agreed. We both understood that these discussions were just between us and off the record, so we could say what we really thought, unlike in the formal interview, when you were not actually allowed to ask or comment about anything personal very much at all.
I moved on to the second candidate, Michelle Cox, who was returning from maternity leave and was looking for a part time role to fit around her family commitments.
"I thought she could potentially take on all the antenatal care and baby clinics with her experience," Martin suggested. "If she could be relied on to turn up that is, bound to have lots of child care issues, that kind of thing."
"That's a bit harsh, Martin," I snapped, thinking he was having a dig at me, remembering how I'd had to take days off from my job to look after James when my mother had been ill.
"Just being realistic, that's all," Martin responded.
The third candidate, John Phillips, seemed a bit of an odd one for a part time, small village GP role. He was in his early forties, and had recently retrained as a GP, after being an oncologist at the Royal Cornwall Hospital in Truro.
"Why did you short list this one?" I queried.
"Chris Parsons highly recommends him. Off the record, he told me that his wife was killed in a car accident, leaving him to bring up their kids on his own. So he's made the decision that he doesn't want to work full time while they're young," Martin elaborated.
"Oh, that is so sad," I exclaimed. "The poor man must have been heartbroken."
"Hmm. Not exactly sure what his child care arrangements are going to be either though, and of course we can't ask that at the interview."
"No, you must pick the successful candidate on merit alone, you can't discriminate against someone because of their personal circumstances, whether they be male or female," I agreed.
"Mustn't be seen to anyway," Martin muttered.
"Martin! You'll really get into trouble one of these days with attitudes like those," I scolded him, only too painfully aware of how he had tried to block me when I'd applied to be head teacher, thinking I'd be unable to cope with being a mum and working full time, despite the fact that I'd been the best candidate for the job. Of course the silly man didn't seem to realise that his over protective attitude just spurred me on to work even harder to prove him wrong.
As the date of the interviews approached, I looked forward with great interest to find out who the successful candidate would be.
