Rest

The characters, places and situations of Doc Martin, are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This story places no claim of remuneration or ownership, nor do I make any attempt to infringe upon any rights of the owners or producers.

Thank you for reading and reviews are much appreciated.

It was a dream or it felt like one for everything had a soft and out-of-focus quality to it. I was lying on my side, and there was a soft blanket over me. The surface on which I lay was not flat like a mattress, but more like a sofa and the pillow under my head was itchy and rough. I could hear the soft trickle of water nearby along with swishing and splashing , which part of my brain realized was someone doing the washing up.

Just prior to that I heard shouting and paws scampering and a door slam. The room was dark, even through my half-closed eyes, and there was a sort of furry essence to it that tickled my nose. I pried my eyes open and realized I was resting, had been asleep actually, on Martin's sofa. We had been hugging and kissing and the next I knew I was lying flat, covered by a blanket. "Martin?" I called out.

In an instant he was kneeling down, hands sheathed in yellow rubber gloves, with an apron around his waist peering at my face. "Louisa. You fell asleep."

I lifted my head and peered around, seeing I was in his front room. "I see that." I glanced at his hands. "Washing up?"

"The dishes needed to be cleared. Did I wake you?"

"No, no, not really. But did I hear you saying something about a dog?" I levered myself to a sitting position, or tried to, which was hard as my waist had disappeared. "I'll help you."

"No need," he said taking my arm and helping me to sit up. "Nearly done."

I rose awkwardly holding the blanket across my shoulders as it was cool in the house. "But still…" He looked at me with a concerned look in the dimness. "Goodness, it's late."

"Nearly ten. And that blasted dog was in here. Must have gotten in somehow."

Blasted dog had to belong to Joan. I sniffed and recognized the damp fur smell as that of dog. "Martin I think Buddy likes you."

"Filthy animal."

I smirked at him. "You do seem to have a certain animal magnetism," I said then pecked him on the cheek. "So why didn't you chuck him out straight away?"

He looked away. "Uhm, I suppose... that… when the… animal got in… we were both asleep."

"We both were asleep?"

"Yes. I have found that having a full stomach after a long and stressful day can be sleep inducing."

"So… you too?"

"I managed to disentangle myself without waking you, and laid you down as I am sure you needed rest. Then I covered you with a blanket."

I hugged him. "You were taking care of me. Thanks for that." I felt his back stiffen as I touched him. "Something wrong?"

He shook his head.

"Must be or why would you be so tense?"

"Louisa," he sighed. "I…"

I waited for more but nothing else came from his mouth. "Yeah… I get it," I said and let him go and sat down on his sofa with effort with my heart in my mouth as I asked, "Can I still stay?"

"What?" he blurted. "Of course, whatever… no!"

It was as I feared I'd dashed the whole thing to splinters. "Oh, I'll go then." I tried to get up but Martin had dropped to his knees and stripping off the silly yellow gloves, took my hands.

"No, you, uhm, can't. You… have to…" he took a deep breath. "Louisa, I only… went to London…"

"What's London got to do with it?"

He shook his head. "I didn't think that we… would… uhm… be…"

"Together? Right, I did run off, didn't I?"

"Not as far as London though - not this time."

I pried a hand free and put it around him. "Hold me."

He did, in fits and starts, not sure how to hold a pregnant woman as when I quit his house I was barely showing.

I guided his hands to my waist and neck and I kissed him. "I won't break, you know."

"Right." He kissed me on his own as I felt my need for him rise.

"Martin."

"Louisa?"

"Uhm…" I bit my lip, "if I'm to stay I'll need some things from Mr. Routledge's."

"Of course."

"Better waddle over there and get some things if I'm staying over."

"I'll drive you," he said as he helped me stand.

"Thanks."

He ducked his head. "Glad to… help," came from his mouth with undertone of sadness.

From the look in his eye, I had to turn and give him such a long considered stare. I had only been thinking of myself - my thoughts, my feelings, my needs. Yet from the way that Martin stood by my side, with an almost hangdog expression, it nearly broke my heart. "You're afraid," I blurted out.

"No."

I wisely stood there silently for a few seconds and then took his hand. "Martin, I am grateful, you know. You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

He stared at me.

"Martin, just say it."

"And why would I not want to help you? Be with you? Do you think that I…" he stopped and I saw his Adam's apple move as he gulped. "Don't care for you, Louisa? My God! Do you think that little of me?"

"Martin, I know this is hard for you and I now damn well how hard this has been for me too."

He squared his shoulders. "Louisa, Aunt Joan says the Ellingham's never say what is most important. But she's wrong! Having said that, I must say this…"

I grasped his sweaty fingers firmly. "Gone on." The baby kicked and rolled over and I actually felt faint waiting for him to tell me something which must be very important for he said so little of a personal nature, and I didn't even get him drunk, this must be monumental.

"Louisa," he went on, "if I thought you didn't love me anymore, I'd not know what I would do. For if you didn't care… for me… all of this would have been a horrible waste, except for curing a few stupid and smelly fishermen, and… giving you an unplanned child. So that explains London."

"That it?" I said as tears pricked my eyes.

He guardedly looked back at me. "Yeah."

The cliff was so very tall but I stepped off it anyway, not knowing if water or rock lay at the foot of it. "Martin… I do… love you."

I actually saw him brush at his eye. "That's good."

I rubbed his hand. "Now, can we get some things from my house?"

He nodded.

The work of grabbing some clothing, a baby book or two, and my toiletries took only ten minutes. Martin silently helped me fold clothing into my suitcase, and then he looked about my bedroom. I'd expected him to recoil at the sight of my underthings, but being no worse than a flood of blood to his hypersensitive feelings, he soldiered on. He blinked rapidly when I put the white maternity nightdress he'd bought me in the case and I gave him an encouraging smile. "Thanks."

He grinned for just a second, and then went to other matters. "That it? What will you do with this house? It's costing you money."

"I… I've heard from Mr. Routledge's great-cousin, who heard I was living here. She wants to work out a partial rent. A few details to work out. She's a writer and wants to have a country place - peace and quiet she said."

"Right." He snapped the latches closed for me and hefted it. "Not that heavy."

I looked about the small room and sighed.

"Problem?" he asked.

"No. Take me home, Martin, would you?"

I locked the door and he gingerly escorted me to the car over the uneven pavers through the drizzle that had started. Martin had just slid my case into the boot and seated himself next to me when Penhales's jeep pulled to a stop next to the Lexus.

"Oh, God," groaned Martin.

"Need assistance?" shouted Penhale across the gap. "Problem, Doctor Ellingham?" he peered at the car through the gloom. "Oh! That Miss Glasson? Hello, Louisa? Everything okay?"

Martin looked from him to me then back. "We're fine; she's fine."

Penhale's brow furrowed as he was not the smartest of policemen, not nearly as intelligent as the departed Mark Mylow. "Going somewhere, Louisa?"

I smiled. "Going home, Joe."

"But…" Joe said, then his face cracked a smile.

"Good bye," said Martin who rolled up his window, started the motor and drove away. "That cretin will likely be telling everyone in the village inside of the next ten minutes," he sniffed.

"Oh, Joe's alright."

Martin made a tight circle at the top of the hill then drove back into the village. Penhale's jeep was unmoving, and as we passed, Joe stuck his head out his window and gave us a thumb's up.

"Maybe not," I added, as I'd seen he had his mobile up to his ear.

"Problem?" Martin asked as he approached the Platt and suddenly there were five or six people out in the dark, just come from the Crab and Lobster. They cheered and waved as we drove through them.

"God!" muttered Martin. "Can no one give us privacy?"

I had to laugh. "Martin, you will be shutting off your mobile tonight. I know you don't like to, but I had hoped we might have a little privacy, at least for one night."

He parked the car and gave me a scared look as he undid his seatbelt. "Louisa, surely you don't mean, uhm…mean… uhm?"

I patted his knee and ran a hand up his leg. "I most certainly, do, Martin. Resting on your couch was one thing, but if we're going to be together," I rubbed my bump, "better expect to treat me like a lady."

His eyes practically jumped from his head. "Uhm, Louisa, if you mean sex - late in pregnancy, and you are only eight weeks from your due date - can be injurious…"

I poked him in the ribs and he stopped. I stretched up and kissed his cheek. "Martin, I most certainly do, and no I'm not made of glass, and…" I ran my hand down his neck and felt him shiver, "Sex… we'll see."

"Oh," he said. "I'd not want to…"

"Well, what if I want to? I saw you eyeing the nightdress I packed. And if you think you can wear those old stuffy buttoned-up-to-the-ears things you wore in the winter - well forget it. I'm binning those first thing."

"Oh…" he said nervously. "If you're sure."

"So come on Martin, take me inside."

He meekly climbed from the car and carrying my case took me into the house.