Chapter 36

Sunday morning, after breakfast, Louisa met Roger Fenn. Roger had offered to collect the photos of the Portwennians, as Louisa was busy enough driving to and fro.

Roger had spoken to most of the villagers directly, and had taken their pictures in front of an appropriate backdrop. Most people where happy to let the Doc know who they were. Even if he was a tosser in their view, he also was their Doc, and you have to stick together through thick and thin.

Louisa and Roger had agreed that printouts wouldn't be necessary, as Martin had computer access, so a USB flash drive would do.

When Roger came around, Louisa quickly switched her computer on and connected the flash drive.

Roger had done a good job. There was Bert, with one arm around Al's shoulder, beaming broadly under the sign "Large's Restaurant". Pauline was standing in front of the surgery, the bright sunshine making her colourful dress glow. Sally Tishell had put on her most seductive smile, she thought, while standing in front of the shelves of her pharmacy. Joe Penhale was posing proudly leaning against his police car in front of the harbour. Peter Cronk and mother were in front of the chippie, with Peter giving the Doc the thumbs up. The grocers, the fishmonger, the landlord of the pub, Dave, the postman – they were all there, and many more.

He had also driven down to Havenhurst farm, where Joan stood in that little pavilion overlooking the sea. Roger had asked Joan in return to take his photo, sitting at his piano at home accompanied by Maureen and their twins. There was just one more photo to be taken.

Louisa thanked Roger for taking care of this task and complimented him on the photos. Then she drove down to Plymouth. She had agreed with Joan that she would go down today, and then Joan could drive down on Monday. If they visited in turns, it wouldn't be too much for Martin having two visitors around, and both of them could get on with their "normal" life occasionally.

Joan would drive down Monday, Wednesday and Friday and leave the weekends for Louisa. Louisa just had to drive down to Plymouth twice during the week and could catch up with her work at school more from now on.

When Louisa entered Martin's room he was already fully dressed. He suggested taking another walk at the Hoe, as the weather was nice. Louisa wasn't sure, as he had exhausted himself the day before.

"Look, I've got to get in form sometime. Besides, last night I actually slept well. So, maybe, some exercise was all I needed. I just had to get out of this bloody hospital. It's simply not a healthy environment for any fit man."

"Well, you're not especially fit – yet."

"But I'm getting there, I tell you. It won't be long. I didn't need any help getting ready today at all. I'm getting there. So, do you want to accompany me or shall I do it later? Alone?"

Louisa thought he was overdoing things, as usual, and the thought of going out alone was a sign of pure madness. Under these circumstances, it would be safer if she went with him.

Martin insisted that they should walk down to the sea. Louisa agreed on one condition – should he end up being remotely worn out like the day before, they would get a taxi to go back. Hesitantly, Martin agreed.

So, the two of them strolled down the hill towards the marina, there they followed the seaside towards the park. For Louisa, it was a nice walk and she really enjoyed it. She could even forget her work and the stress momentarily. However, she tried to remind herself that she was responsible for Martin and that he should not overdo things. However, when they reached the park he still looked reasonably fit. He was walking in a good, but still not fast pace and his breathing was slightly accelerated, but he wasn't really out of breath.

After taking a tour through the Hoe, Louisa insisted on stopping at the café tucked away on the cliff face. There was no way that she would start walking back towards the hospital without giving Martin an opportunity to catch his breath.

However, he wasn't really that exhausted that she could insist on taking a cab. After a little refreshment, he should be OK, she hoped.

"Let's sit down outside. Wow, look at that view!"

"Basically the same as in the park. I mean, we are still in the park. So, of course…"

"Yes, Martin, I know." Louisa replied impatiently. "But it's something different when you're in a café."

"No, it's not."

"Ohhh, alright. It's nice anyhow." Louisa sighed and sat down where she could enjoy the – maybe not so extraordinarily – beautiful view.

They took a seat and placed their order – only hot drinks, no unnecessary meals at odd times.

"I've got a USB with me, as Roger has taken lots of photos of the village and the villagers and saved them. I suppose your computer can handle it."

"Should do."

"That will give you an idea with whom you will have to deal with."

"Ghastly." Muttered Martin under his breath.

"Look, if you are really that negative about the village without even visiting it…"

"What? No!"

"But…"

"What?"

"You said the village is ghastly."

"No, I did not. The background music is."

"Oh." Louisa really hadn't noticed that the café played some sort of quiet pop.

Just now, a waiter brought the ordered tea and coffee.

"Just a question." Martin addressed the waiter. "Do we get any compensation for the rubbish we have to listen to here, or are there any corners where two adults can have a decent talk without being disturbed by this rubbish, adolescent's insults to the ears?"

Louisa gave him an annoyed look, while the waiter seemed unimpressed and business-like. "It seems most guests actually do like the adolescent's rubbish around here and if it doesn't suit you, you can go to one of the stuffy grandparent's places. Maybe that is better suited for your generation." Towards Louisa he added. "Is there anything else?"

"No, it's fine." Louisa answered meekly.

"Fine is not what I would say, young man!" Martin blustered.

Louisa gave him a stern look. "Leave it!" She hissed, already regretting that she had been lured here by the stunning views, which were hard to enjoy with this bickering, and equally regretting that Martin wasn't just a tiny bit more exhausted.

The waiter disappeared quickly.

"I can't understand you." Martin kept on ranting. "They force you to listen to…to…this rubbish and you…"

"Nobody forced us. I mean, we did have the choice to sit down here or not."

Martin grumbled.

"Why are you always doing things like that?" Louisa asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You sure haven't changed. That's what I mean."

"Oh, good."

"Well, depends. Let's get back to the photos of the village. The most prominent figures are covered. It should give you a pretty good impression of the location and the locals."

"You are from the village, I take it?"

"Yes, born and bred. Only left it for university. Went to London. Never liked it. I missed the sea and the clean air and it was too impersonal for my taste."

"And I?"

"You're a true Londoner. Just came down here when…when the position of GP became vacant." Louisa tried to put it mildly.

"Right. But my family? I mean, Joan is living here, obviously."

"An uncle of hers had moved down here. It seemed he wanted a change of lifestyle. Maybe he didn't like hectic London himself. In his will, he left his place to Joan."

"Right, so the rest of my family is in London?"

"Actually, I don't know. You never talked about them. The last I heard about your parents, vaguely, it was said they lived somewhere abroad. Mediterranean or something."

"Right. It's just…."

Martin fell silent. Louisa didn't want to rush, but she wasn't sure if he waited for encouragement to continue. So some minutes passed by in silence.

"It's just what?"

"It's something Joan said yesterday. I kept thinking about. I mean, why aren't my parents informed if they are still alive?"

"Oh."

Martin looked worriedly towards Louisa, one eyebrow raised. Louisa just nervously bit her lip. Strictly speaking, she didn't know much. She certainly didn't feel entitled to tell him anything about it, especially as she could hardly give him any additional information if he had any questions. Maybe the easiest way out would be the most honest?

"Don't you want to tell me?" Martin finally pushed for an answer.

"I…ehm…Joan's visiting you tomorrow. Why don't you ask her? She knows more about your family than I do. Everything I know I know from her. So I think it would be better to ask her directly."

Martin gave her a quizzical look. He didn't like something about her answer. She seemed to be hiding something.

"Right. Tomorrow. Uhm…You're not coming?"

"Joan and I thought we could visit you in turns. Actually, I have neglected my job a bit, and I have to catch up with some work."

"Right, it's just…I mean tomorrow…I'll…"

"I can't be at the meeting with Chris. He didn't want to tell me when he will visit you, and I think that's a pretty strong indicator that he doesn't want me there. I will call you as soon as I can. I promise. I can't wait to get the news myself."

"Right. About the meeting…I still don't know what he wants from me."

"He just wants to see for himself how you're doing, and as he has to be down here anyway, he simply wants to visit you. Nothing to worry about, believe me."

"If he wants to know how I'm doing, he can get my patient's record. It has more information than I have."

"But then he doesn't know how you are. He doesn't want to have a case record. He needs to meet you."

"Louisa, I thought about it. Maybe he really just wants to tell me in person that there is nothing he can do and that I can't get my job back. I mean – who wants a potty GP? I suppose he just wants to break it to me gently."

"Dr. Martin Ellingham." Louisa spoke energetically. "Stop this. If he had any plans to replace you, I would have been one of the first to know, as I'm still on the panel committee. We would be informed, and I do assure you there has been no activity whatsoever. Besides, Chris pointed out that he would love to have you back. He just has to be sure that you can do it. He even assured me that he doesn't expect you to be fit for the job already. Maybe he can help to find ways for your re-training."

Martin looked into his empty coffee cup. How could he tell her that he simply didn't know if he could take another blow? She was so enthusiastic about everything. So positive. He wished he could borrow just a tiny bit of her confidence.

He had spent all his waking hours that weren't occupied with therapy or with Louisa's visits learning and practising. His whole thinking was spinning around medical matters. He had set his mind on training to be a GP again. Now he was frightened his little bubble might burst. In 24 hours his old colleague from university would visit him, and after exchanging niceties, he would declare that he was very sorry, but…

Martin was sure that this could be the straw that broke the camel's back.

Louisa could see that Martin was worried. After debating with herself for a short time, she finally put her hand on his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He looked up, and the sadness in his eyes made her choke.

"Look, you're a bloody brilliant doctor. I even dare to say you're the most bloody brilliant doctor who set foot in any Cornish surgery ever. You might even be the most bloody brilliant doctor who ever set out to be a GP. Chris would be a bloody fool to let you slip away. And he does know that. Don't worry. He knows how good you are in your profession."

"You mean how good I have been."

"No, Martin. What made you a good doctor is beyond memory. You're an astute observer. You detect symptoms no one looked at seriously before. You are very logical, sometimes irritatingly so. So you come to the right conclusion and know which aspects have to be investigated further to get to the bottom of things. You are very objective. Sometimes it drives me up the wall as you seem, well, almost cold at times, but for your job it's ideal, because you don't let hopes or fears taint your judgement."

"All this has nothing to do whatsoever with memory. It is just the way you are. And it's not the way you were, as you proved with your determination and your exact judgement of your own situation that it is all still there."

"Knowing medical fact is the least part of being a good doctor. Most of it is the capability to handle life-and-death situations. To make the right decisions even under the worst possible circumstances. And maybe your own difficult situation and the way you are handling it so admirably will make you an even better GP, if that is possible at all."

"You are born to be a doctor, and you will be one again. Promise me that you'll never doubt that."

"Well, first we have to get that blasted meeting out of the way tomorrow." Martin pushed the empty cup away and waved at the waiter. "Better get back."

After the refreshment Martin seemed reasonably fit and Louisa agreed that they should start walking up the hill. On the way, Martin discussed with Louisa how he should handle the meeting – should he meet his boss in his room, so that they had privacy when they talked things through, or would it be better to meet him in the canteen? How should he address him? After all, he was his boss and his old mate from university? Martin was disappointed when Louisa told him that Chris Parsons' picture was not among the photos Louisa had brought with her. Martin would have liked to know beforehand who he was dealing with, but then decided he would google him.

They reached the hospital without being too exhausted and headed straight for Martin's room.

"Shall I wait outside for you to get comfortable?" Louisa offered.

"No, not today. I have to get used to being properly dressed during the whole day. It's time to leave the hospital look behind."

"You're sure, Martin? It has been a long day and a long walk, and maybe you'd better…"

"Don't fuss. I'm fine. I have to start acting like a human being rather than an invalid again."

Martin went to his computer and switched it on.

Together they went through the pictures. Louisa talked about everyone to be seen on the photos and provided some deep insight into each of them.

At first, Martin couldn't believe it. He had thought villages like this only existed on postcards. It didn't seem like a real world to him. More like the backdrop of one of those stupid TV series. He found himself asking aloud if there were actually real people living there.

This comment earned him a rather stern look from Louisa.

After a while he noticed that he wasn't paying much attention anymore to what Louisa was saying. He just enjoyed listening to the sound of her voice, the melody of her speech, her occasional laugh.

This façade of attention he had put on cracked when Louisa actually asked him something. It took him a minute or two to realise that she expected and answer. The problem was that he had no clue what the question had been. He started to stutter, and tried to come up with some commonplace answer to get him out of his misery.

Louisa noticed that he hadn't been listening lately and realised that his attention span had been used up.

"Martin, why don't you take a nap while I…"

"Just to make it clear, if I take a nap, then I don't want you to stay here any longer. You have wasted half of your Sunday on visiting me, and as you pointed out earlier, you have to catch up on work. Please, do me the favour and go home. Rest a bit."

"But Martin..:"

"No, I'm serious. You're right. I am a bit down, and I would like to lie down a bit, but I would feel better if I knew that you were on your way home at a reasonable time, that is, and not late at night as usual. I have to prepare myself for the interview tomorrow anyway."

"Martin, it is not an interview. Chris is an old friend."

"An old friend maybe, but one who can decide about my future. So I want to brush up on a couple of things."

"I really wouldn't mind …"

"But I would. Please. After all, you'll be calling tomorrow."

"Sure I will. First thing I can – during the break probably."

"If I don't answer, then Chris is with me. I hope you understand…"

"…sure. You can't answer the phone when he's still there. I understand. Then I will call later. In any case, Joan will come around in the afternoon."

"Uhm…right."

"Shall I go, then?"

"Ehm…right. Safe journey. Until tomorrow then."

As soon as Louisa had left him, Martin slumped down on the bed. He contemplated shortly if he should lie back fully dressed and just let the shoes drop to the floor, but then decided to fumble for his sleeping clothes. With much effort, he changed and then collapsed totally exhausted. He dozed off in no time.

In his dreams, the different villagers made somewhat static appearances, as if frozen in time. But one image popped into his mind regularly and made him smile in his sleep. It was the last photo taken, only this morning – Louisa in front of her school, her hair blowing in the wind, smiling broadly while the sea and an immaculate blue sky set the scene.

To be continued…