Chapter Twenty-one

I slipped into the one dress that still fit me and tried to tame my curls into some semblance of a style. Martin scowled as he selected a tie and knotted it at his throat. I noticed he was wearing his black suit for the occasion, and how handsome and distinguished he looked. I looked at both of us in the wardrobe mirror and nodded my approval at our reflection.

"Let's get this over with," Martin grumbled, buttoning the last button of his jacket. I put my arms around him.

"Do you think you can go into this with a little better attitude?" I asked him mildly. "Remember, Joan worked really hard to make it special for us." I reached up and straightened his tie.

He sighed. "You know how I feel about social gatherings," he replied.

"I know. But at least try to make the best of it, all right?"

"Yes."

Most of the guests had already arrived by the time we made it to the village hall for the reception. The hall had been decorated beautifully with flowers from gardens all over Portwenn, and some of the more responsible young ladies of the village had been recruited to circulate with plates of hors d'oeuvres and drinks. The crowd all applauded when we walked in, and there were a few wolf whistles sprinkled in for good measure. I glanced at Martin, who had managed to arrange his face into a blank, stoic expression instead of glowering. I guess that was the best I could hope for, and I squeezed his hand, trying not to laugh.

Joe Penhale blew his police whistle to get the attention of the crowd, and Bert stood at the front of the hall with a glass of wine in his hand, ready to make a speech. "Let us raise our glasses to the happy couple, and congratulation them on their engagement!" he boomed, then added, "Here Doc, tell us, are you ever going to set a date?"

"Yeah Doc…we've all got money riding on it!" shouted Chippy Miller, and the guests all laughed.

"Not that it's any of your business," Martin sputtered, "but yes, we did set a date!" He glanced down at me before he said anything else. I grinned at him.

"Well put us out of our misery, Doc!"

I chuckled and raised my left hand so they could see the wedding ring on my finger. "Surprise…we got married last weekend!" I exclaimed. There was a stunned silence that turned into murmured conversation, and finally a cheer rose from the crowd. We were bombarded with well-wishers who shook our hands and gave me hugs. Dave Jenkins, one of the village fishermen, patted Martin heartily on the shoulder and said, "Thanks Doc…I just won a hundred quid!"

Joe blew his whistle again, and the crowd got quiet. "Now you two, there's a tradition for a party like this, and that is every time you hear someone tapping on their glass, you have to kiss," Bert announced with a chuckle. "Let's try it out, shall we?" He took a fork from the table beside him and began tapping gently on his glass, which produced a clear ringing sound.

"Oh, god," Martin grumbled, scowling.

"Well we wouldn't want to mess with tradition, would we?" I told him.

He looked down at me. "Is this really necessary?"

"I thought you liked kissing me!" I replied in mock indignation.

"I do…" he hissed, "just not in front of the whole bloody village!"

Other people were beginning to tap their glasses as well, and the ringing sound was becoming deafening.

"They aren't going to stop, you know," I commented. Martin finally rolled his eyes and leaned down to kiss me chastely on the lips. The whole room cheered, and I laughed.

"Utterly ridiculous," he growled.

I looked around the room, trying to spot Joan in the crowd, but I didn't see her. Instead, I saw Louisa and Dr. Lowe cozying up to each other on the dance floor, which made me smile. There had been rumblings around the village that he was going to propose to her any day now, and from the looks of the two of them, I wasn't surprised; they were in their own little blissful world, her whispering to him and him gazing at her adoringly. I couldn't help feeling partly responsible for their love match, and I mentally congratulated myself. They certainly made a handsome couple.

I peered up at Martin, who looked exceedingly uncomfortable. "I don't suppose you'd like to dance, would you?" I asked him.

"I would not," he replied with finality. No surprise there. I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Do you see Joan anywhere?"

He looked around. "No, I don't see her…perhaps she's in the kitchen."

"I'm going to go see if I can find her," I told him, kissing him on the cheek. There was a collective "Ooh!" from a few guests, who hadn't even had to bang on their glasses to see my display of affection. I smirked.

I checked the kitchen, but the only person in there was Mrs. Perkins, who was in charge of the food. "I know you're busy, but you wouldn't happen to know where Joan is, would you?" I asked her.

"She left a few hours ago, said she had a headache and was going to go home and lie down for a while. She must have lost track of time," Mrs. Perkins answered. "I'm sure she'll be along soon."

It wasn't like Joan to be late for something like this, or for that matter, to take to her bed in the middle of the afternoon. I was beginning to feel concerned for her. I went back out to let Martin know what I had found out, but before I could get to him, Joe Penhale stopped me.

"May I have this dance, Mrs. Ellingham?" he asked gallantly, holding his hand out to me and bowing slightly. I laughed in surprise.

"Why, of course," I replied. We took a few turns around the dance floor before Bert Large cut in, and after him, Phil the bartender. When the song was over, Martin was at my side.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yes, actually," I answered, smiling. "Are you jealous?"

"Of course not!" he grumbled. "I just think you should come and sit down now…you shouldn't be on your feet so much."

"Mmm hmm…" I teased. "Come on, Martin…dance with me just once. Please? My dear husband?" I took his hand and gazed up at him, batting my eyelashes. He grumbled under his breath, but he didn't protest; instead, he let me lead him to the dance floor. He sighed, putting his arm around me and pulling me close. The guests went crazy, all of them "ooh"-ing and banging on their glasses. He dutifully kissed me, a little longer this time.

"Thank you, Martin," I told him quietly. "I know you are hating every minute of this."

"Yes," he replied, not even attempting to deny it.

"I appreciate you making an effort. Don't worry that they are all watching; just dance with me."

He pulled me as close to him as my belly would allow and looked at me with that soft expression in his eyes that I loved so much. The crowd was really getting a show, and there were some hoots and whistles from them as we swayed to the music. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Joe Penhale answer his cell phone, and he glanced at me, his expression grim.

"Let's give them one last, good kiss," I murmured to Martin as the song ended.

"Must we?" he muttered.

"Yes, and then I will let you hide in the corner for the rest of the night if that is what you want to do," I grinned at him.

"All right, let's get it over with then." He cupped my cheek with his hand and delivered a long, smoldering kiss that made my knees weak and the guests gasp and applaud. "How was that?"

I laughed. "More than adequate," I replied.

"Can I go hide now?" he asked sarcastically.

"You absolutely may."

Before he had a chance to bolt, though, Joe came over to where we were standing. He just stood there for a moment, as if he had something he wanted to say. His face was troubled.

"Are you all right, Joe?" I asked.

"I am, yes…um, there's been a bit of an accident."

Martin and I looked at each other. "What sort of accident? Where?" Martin said.

"Bodmin Moor. Road traffic accident. Well, a single vehicle, so not really an accident as such, more and isolated fatality, you might say…"

I felt my heart drop into my stomach and my head start to swim. No…it couldn't be…

Joe went on. "…It's your Auntie Joan. I'm really sorry, Doctor Ellingham."

My hand flew to my mouth, tears spilling onto my cheeks. Martin looked stricken.

"When?" he said softly.

"A few hours ago. Paramedics said it was a heart attack. She was just sitting there in her truck, in a gorse bush, not a scratch on her. They were looking for her next of kin…uh, they need a formal identification at the mortuary. I can run you over if you like…"

Martin didn't answer, only stood there, swallowing convulsively for a few seconds. Then he turned and made his way slowly to the door of the hall.

"Thank you Joe, for letting us know," I said. "Could you do me a favor and let everyone here know what's happened? I need to go be with Martin."

"Of course," Joe replied. I think he felt relieved that he had something to do to help. "No trouble at all, Anna."

I could feel the grief of Joan's death begin to wash over me, but at the moment, I was more worried about how it was affecting Martin. I had never seen him look so sad, so bereft. I went outside and found him standing on the front steps. I put my arms around him, but he stood there stiffly, not returning my embrace. "Are you all right?" I asked him.

He cleared his throat. "Of course. Death is just an inevitable part of the cycle of life," he answered stoically. "She was an old woman, overweight, and had a diet full of fats and extra calories. A heart attack was inevitable."

"Martin, she was your aunt…she loved you. And you loved her," I admonished, my eyes filling with tears again. "How can you talk about her that way?"

"What way?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Like she was just another one of your patients!"

He didn't answer, and I didn't push him. I knew it was very hard for him to show emotion, and this was his way of dealing with Joan's death. Still, it stung to hear him speak of her as if she didn't matter at all to him. I knew inside he must be suffering, and it broke my heart to know he was hurting. I absentmindedly rubbed his back as we stood there, wishing there was more I could do.