The characters, places and situations of Doc Martin, are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This story makes no claim of remuneration or ownership, nor do I make any attempt to infringe upon any rights of the owners or producers.
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WARNING! This is a post-Series 6 story. If you have not seen Doc Martin Series 6, this story may ruin any number of surprises for you as it begins just at the end of series 6 - Episode 8. Therefore, proceed at your own peril…
I fed James while Louisa peeled tangerines for us. She happily devoured the succulent fruit while James smacked his lips as his chicken stew and pears was fed to him. He held the extra baby spoon trying to make the occasional forays into the container of pears.
"He really wants to feed himself," Louisa observed. "Plus he's been pulling himself up on things and crawling more."
"Appropriate for his age."
"Odds are he'll be getting into everything in a week."
"All the more reason to keep the floor spotless." I dabbed at a gooey dribble that was threatening to trickle all over the tiny bib over his shirt.
"Yep. A challenge with your patients traipsing in and out."
"Louisa, I can't very well examine them in the street, now can I?"
"Whoa, whoa, Martin. Just saying."
"Saying what exactly?" I bristled.
"Just stating a fact, the way you do."
"Oh."
"Communication is such a big word, isn't it?"
James' attention was taken by another seagull and he pointed at it and spewed nonsense.
"Yes, James! Good boy!" Louisa gushed. "It's a bird, a seagull. Like in your book, Gully the Seagull." Louisa looked at me sharply as I sneered. "You don't like that one?"
"A kid's book."
"How's the book about the dragon coming?"
"Haven't gotten back to it."
"You should. James likes it."
I scraped the remaining food from the container and James ate it up. I gravely cleaned his face and hands then removed his bib, folding the soiled side together so it could be packed away safely with the soiled wiping cloth.
"You are always so careful," Louisa told me.
I cleared my throat. "Try to be."
"You are; you really are."
I squinted at her. "Last week I accidently injected a patient who did not require it."
"What?! Oh em gee, Martin! That sounds bad; really bad."
"The patient… is doing fine. It won't harm, uhm them. What does 'oh em gee' mean?"
Louisa looked at me long and hard. "What made that happen?"
I sighed deeply and sat motionless for a few seconds until I could tell her, "It was the day you and James were leaving for Spain and no I don't do everything right - I try to be a good doctor, but I'm not - can't be – not always."
Her turn to sigh at me and then she pulled James toward her and hugged him tightly. I saw her bite at her lip. "A bad day all around. Very."
"Right."
Louisa stood up quickly, picked up James one-handed then rushed towards the cliff overlooking the sea.
"Louisa?" I called after her, but she kept walking so I followed quickly. I caught up where she had stopped perhaps ten feet back from the edge, where the wind had a ferocious lift to it as it shot up the face of the cliff. "Everything…" I gulped, when I stopped by her elbow, "alright? Not too close there; the edge is all crumbly."
She ignored me as she held James on her right hip, pressing his little body against her chest and shoulder. All I got from her was a slow nod as an answer to my question.
I watched while the wind whipped her hair back and forth as the wind shed vortices every few seconds making her hair flail like a snake under a farmer's shovel. After perhaps a minute I told her, "Louisa? I didn't mean to… uhm… make you sad."
She turned her head a fraction my way. "Martin, you didn't make me sad – not today." Then she returned to the blanket. She put James down and sprawled next to him. "I'll just have a little lie down with him. You haven't touched your tangerine."
I watched as she tenderly encircled James with her good arm, lying on her left. "Does that hurt your shoulder?"
"Not really," she said, but I saw her wince as she shifted position.
I sat down, took the rest of the tangerine pieces and methodically ate them one by one. In short order I found myself getting a bit sleepy so I carefully reclined next to the now sleeping James as my eyelids got heavier and heavier. At some point I must have dreamed, for through a mental haze I felt I heard Louisa speaking to me in a whisper.
"In some ways I think you act the way people expect you to act all stuffy and stiff. But that's not you is it?"
A seagull called just then but she went on. "I know you've been hurt and terribly. How can I say this? How can I show you that you can be safe with us – me and James? You do trust Ruth and I think you must trust her – no respect her – a bit more than you were around Aunt Joan. Poor Joan. She'd have love to be a great-aunt to James; spoiled him to bits most likely." I heard her sigh. "Ruth bounces from very stiff like you to a gushy person at times. I think she could be quite fun if she wished to, like when she gets into the wine. So what will it take for you to trust me?"
I could have sworn I felt the touch of a hand on my arm. The bedroom was dim, and a phantom figure in white, yet graced with dark hair and eyes rose before my vision. "Martin…" it came closer and kissed my face. "Martin?" I was paralyzed in the dream state wanting to react yet was unable.
"Martin," said the sensuous voice, "that day – the day we were going to Spain – I had no idea what I was up to. I'd gone totally Bodmin." Another kiss came my way and perhaps there was the taste of salt tears on it as well.
A gust of wind blew over me and that made no sense that the wind could be this strong in my bedroom. I managed to pry an eye open and saw the blurred face of Louisa looming over me.
She was whispering, "Martin? I'm so sorry for being a bloody fool. If I only knew just how much difficulty you were in I'd have…"
My eye closed and I listened.
"I am sorry, so very sorry. I think Helen can help you and me, if we let her." Another soft kiss brushed my cheek. "Want to do that? I do. Let her, I mean."
A seagull screeched and how in the world did a bird get into the house?
"Martin, do you know, just how much…" long pause, "you give me? And to James?"
I lay there motionless, feeling long strands of hair brush across my face and neck.
"Oh Martin, I've made a terrible mess haven't I?"
Soft and now salty lips returned to mine. Then the voice said, "Oh Martin, I need you. So much."
Something made me jerk awake and the dream, or whatever it was, vanished. "Louisa, what's going on?" I mumbled.
Louisa lay at my side, with James between us. A thin stream of spittle ran out of his mouth as he snored. My attention was drawn by the caring look about her eyes.
"Oh nothing much Martin," she said, "just admiring you."
I sat up, brushing windblown bits of grass off me. "Not much to look at."
She shook her head. "I think you were dozing."
"Perhaps." I ran my tongue over my lips and tasted a salt plus a raspberry creamy layer of Louisa's lipstick. "You kissed me."
She smiled. "Might have done."
Authors' note:
"Gully" - mischievous adventures of the wicked seagull. Books for children by Cornish author Jon Cleave who lives in Port Isaac, Cornwall, btw.
