A/N: Hey everyone! Apologies for another long absence. I did not intend for it to take this long to get this chapter written. When I last updated I had just started a new job so most of my free time for writing has dwindled quite a bit since then. In the interim I've been reading a lot and am currently in the middle of rewatching Doc Martin, which I think has sparked my desire to really crack on with this story. I'm just glad so many of you have been enjoying it over the years, which is why I'm going to post updates of this story every two weeks (most likely on Sundays), if not then for sure at least once a month. I'm even planning to write a continuation story that directly follows this one. I've had plot points running through my head for a while now and I'd really like to start writing it soon, once I'm finished with this one first. In the meantime I hope you've all been feeling safe and well. Its been quite a year so far.
Just a little note regarding this chapter: this is part one of a two-part chapter. After writing the first couple thousand words I realized that this was probably going to be much longer than I thought and decided it would be better to split it in two. The second half isn't completely finished yet so I will do my best to have it posted in two weeks, maybe sooner. And I always feel like I'm terrible at writing medical emergencies, so I apologize in advance if those particular scenes feel choppy or inaccurate (I do have a degree in biochemistry, but that's far from knowing a whole lot in terms of medicine/diagnostics. I do my best in terms of research.). I hope this was worth the wait, and if not, again my apologies. Either way a review or comment would be greatly appreciated. Thanks, hope you enjoy it!
Chapter Forty-seven
On Monday morning a heavy and swirling wind rapped against the window of the bedroom, waking Martin. It was still dark out, and glancing at his alarm clock, which wasn't due to go off for another hour, he decided it would be useless to try and go back to sleep. Turning his head to look at Louisa, he smiled. Despite the soft snores that escaped her nose and mouth, he loved waking up next to her, especially when the sun filtered in through the thin curtain that covered the window. Sometimes he'd find her still tucked in to his side, one of her arms draped over his stomach, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. They were moments he never truly appreciated when they were newly married. But now, after nearly a year, he couldn't imagine being without them. Picking up her limp hand, he gently caressed her fingers with his thumb before giving them a light squeeze and then letting them fall back down over her abdomen.
As he sat up in bed, Martin let out a tired groan. He wasn't ready for another week of moaning and malingering patients. But as much as he loved and enjoyed his work as a general practitioner, there was only so much one could take with the villagers of Portwenn.
After switching off his alarm, not wanting to wake Louisa prematurely, he proceeded with his morning exercises of sit-ups and pushups, then quickly showered and dressed. He decided on a blue suit with a white shirt and a navy and gold-striped tie, along with a pair of matching trousers. He then pulled out the suits that needed to be dry-cleaned and draped them across the end of his side of the bed, making sure Louisa knew which ones to bring while on her way to the school.
He continued rearranging the suits in his wardrobe, sliding the ones that would be next in the dry-clean cycle to the far right, when he heard the bedroom door creak open. Turning his head towards the noise, Martin watched as his son pushed through into the room, still clad in his one-piece, animal-print pajamas. "Morning, James," he said, closing the double-door of his wardrobe. "How are you this morning?"
"Da-ee!" James squealed, wrapping his arms around himself. "Mor-ning."
Martin cracked a brief smile at his son's ever-growing vocabulary. "Yes. Good morning."
The toddler rushed up to the foot of the bed, pointing at Louisa. "Mum-mee, awake?" he asked, trying to peer over the wooden frame to see her.
"Mummy's still sleeping. We need to be quiet so we don't wake her." Bending over, Martin picked up James and settled him against his hip. He held a finger against his lips, which James immediately mimicked. "Why don't we get you dressed for the day, hmm?" Martin said, closing the door and heading across the hall to James's room. "You've got nursery school in a few hours. We don't want you being late, now do we?" As a response James shook his head, looking back over his father's shoulder in the direction of his mother.
About an hour later, Louisa wasn't surprised when she woke up alone in bed. By now she knew how Martin liked to get a head start on Mondays, being one of his busiest days of the week. And with James attending nursery school every other day, it made mornings a lot simpler when Martin got him up and dressed, especially on the days she preferred sleeping in a few extra minutes.
After switching the alarm off she pushed herself up against her pillows to a sitting position. She let out a quiet groan of displeasure when she felt her stomach twist and churn uneasily. But the usual bout of morning sickness, now fairly routine, didn't come on as strong and forceful as it usually did. Thank goodness, she thought to herself, finally rolling out of bed and heading for the bathroom.
Once dressed in her only pair of loose-fitting jeans and a flower-patterned blouse, complete with a matching blue cardigan, Louisa quickly pulled up her long dark hair into its usual ponytail, pinning the few stray locks back, then gathered up Martin's stack of suits that were due to be dropped off at the dry-cleaner's later that morning. Before heading downstairs to breakfast, she double-checked each of the pockets, remembering that the one time she didn't Martin had accidentally left his wallet in the inside pocket of his favorite black suit. As she rifled through the last one in the pile, Louisa stumbled upon a folded brochure tucked into the inside pocket. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized that it was a travel brochure for a bed and breakfast in Western Scotland. Immediately she wondered if he was planning something. Their first wedding anniversary was less than a month away, and with his increased efforts at committing to their marriage, it wasn't too far of a stretch for Louisa to think that Martin would be planning a romantic getaway for just the two of them. Or perhaps it was just a place where she could have some space to think and forget her worries over her dying father? Either way it still seemed a bit uncharacteristic of him. But ever since the news of the pregnancy he was becoming more of the husband she so desperately dreamed of rather than the distant and abrasive physician she always knew him to be. Still smiling, Louisa refolded the brochure and tucked it under the pile of undergarments in her top dresser drawer for safekeeping, knowing that Martin would never willingly look in there, then left the room to head downstairs for breakfast.
It had become somewhat of a habit for Louisa to find her husband and son sitting side by side at the kitchen table eating breakfast together. Martin would read his medical journal while James practiced writing his letters with whichever spreadable fruit he preferred that morning. Today it was applesauce, Louisa noticed as she stepped up into the kitchen to greet them. "My, doesn't someone look handsome this morning," she commented, taking note of the similar wardrobe between her husband and son.
Martin looked up at her from his medical journal as James let out an exuberant laugh from beside him. "Morning," he said, watching as she leaned down to kiss the top of James's head.
"Did you sleep well?" she asked, moving towards the counter where the kettle of boiled water was already waiting for her.
He turned slightly in his chair when he felt her hand smooth over his right shoulder and neck from behind. "Yes. Did you?"
Her answer was delayed by the ceramic clink of a bowl and a mug being pulled from the cupboard. "I did, thank you for asking." She smiled, leaning back against the edge of the counter while she waited for her tea to steep. "Busy day today?"
Martin, still partly engrossed in his medical journal, held up his left wrist to check the time. "Yes, I believe so."
Picking up her mug of tea and the empty bowl, Louisa took a seat across from him at the table. "That's good." She opened the box of cereal that was sitting to her right. "Any more thoughts about visiting my father?" She cautiously looked up at him after pouring milk over her cereal. "Unless you think it's too soon to start planning something?"
Letting out a sigh, Martin closed his journal then began straightening his breakfast dishes into a neat pile in front of him. "Whenever you feel you're ready, Louisa. I know you want to go before the, um, pregnancy progresses too far, but I'll leave it up to you to decide when. Although a week's notice in advance would be appreciated . . . that way I can adjust my patient schedule accordingly."
"Of course." She dipped her spoon into her bowl of cereal, noticing the pile of post lying near the far edge of the table. "The post came already?"
"Yes, they were a bit early this morning."
Louisa began sifting through the slim stack of ads and bills. "Oh, look!" she exclaimed, pulling out a cream-colored envelope that was addressed in a fancy, hand-written script.
Martin furrowed his brow. "What is it?"
"Joe and Janice's wedding invitation." She slipped her finger into the crease at the top and opened it. "Oh, August 29th," she said, reading out the exact date. "The end of summer. That'll be nice, won't it?"
"Mm."
"Oh, Martin," Louisa huffed out. "Aren't you even a little bit happy for them?"
"Am I supposed to be?"
"They are our friends . . ."
"But that doesn't mean I like them very much."
Louisa narrowed her eyes at him. "Martin . . ."
He tilted his head to the side. "What?"
She shook her head, letting out a sigh. "Nothing." There was a brief pause in between spoonfuls of cereal. "It's just . . . You do remember that you're Joe's best man for the wedding, right?"
The corner of his lip curled upward at the reminder. "Yes."
"And there's no backing out of it . . ."
Martin glanced up at her with an annoyed look. "So I've been told."
Louisa tried to hide her smile behind her spoon. "I know I pushed you into it, but Joe looks up to you, Martin. The least you could do is stand up beside him at the ceremony."
He stood up from his chair to put away his used breakfast dishes. "And I will. You don't have to keep reminding me."
"But if I don't you'll just end up making the excuse that you forgot."
The dishwasher closed with a click as Martin turned around to wipe off the tray of James's high chair. "I suppose I'll have to think of something else then."
She raised her eyebrows at him. "I hope that was a joke."
He paused in the middle of cleaning James's hands. "Louisa, I'm not going to back out. Penhale's supposed to stop by sometime this week to discuss everything. At this point there really is no turning back."
She smiled briefly. "Thank you, Martin. I know it may not be easy for you, but you're doing a good thing."
He glanced up at her, seeing pride and admiration reflected in her gaze. "I know."
"I'm sure Al's feeling relieved."
Again, Martin furrowed his brow. "How so?"
"You know, about you taking on the role of best man."
He finished cleaning James's face and hands. "Right. I see."
"Just be amicable about it, will you? For Joe's sake."
Martin let out another irritated breath from his nose. "I think I'm fairly capable of handling Penhale, Louisa."
She shook her head. "I know, I know. I just don't want you ruining his wedding plans, that's all. Remember how our first attempt at a wedding went?"
He straightened his back at her comment, not wanting to be reminded of that particular portion of their past. His reply was quiet, "Yes."
Looking up from her bowl of cereal, Louisa could see the change in his expression, despite how hard he tried to conceal it. "Martin, I'm sorry, I didn't mean . . ."
"I know. I ruined everything that day."
She glanced down at the table for a moment, feeling somewhat ashamed for bringing up such a sensitive topic between them. "You're not the only one to blame that day. I convinced myself that we weren't right for each other then."
"But I shouldn't have let you walk away."
Louisa closed her eyes briefly, trying not to let her emotions and hormones get the better of her. "And I should have told you about James the moment I found out." Both of them turned to look at their son, who still seemed content in his high chair even after having his source of entertainment removed from his tray. "He brought us back together, Martin."
"Mm, yes," he said, recalling the day where Mrs. Tishell had run off with James.
"Oh, no! Is it five to eight already?!" Louisa suddenly said, checking her silver wristwatch for the time.
Martin, snapping out of his reverie, turned to look at her. "Hmm?"
She began hurriedly putting away her used breakfast dishes. "I have to get to school a bit early today."
"Why?"
"The gym equipment I petitioned for a few months ago is finally being delivered today. I doubt they'll be there at exactly eight-thirty . . ."
"Would you like me to take James to nursery then?" Martin asked, placing a clean cup under the attached filter basket of his espresso machine.
"No, that's alright, Martin, I'll take him. I have to drop off your suits at the dry-cleaner's anyway." She gestured towards James. "If you could have James ready to go in a few minutes while I run up to brush my teeth that would be lovely."
"Yes, of course." He watched as she dashed through the living room towards the stairs. "Alright, let's get your lunch together then," he said, pulling James up and out of his high chair.
When Louisa returned downstairs a few minutes later with Martin's suits draped over her shoulder, she found James sitting on the step that separated the kitchen from the living room, patiently waiting for her. She smiled, thinking how similar he was to his father. "Ready to go?" she asked, holding out her free hand for James to take.
"Yes!" the toddler exclaimed, jumping up on his feet to grab his mother's hand.
They walked over to where Martin was waiting next to the dishwasher. He handed James his small knapsack. "His lunch is in the inside pocket," he said, looking at Louisa.
She smiled once more. "Thank you."
"Are you sure all the walking won't be too much for you?"
"I have been pregnant before, Martin."
"Yes, I know . . ."
"There's no need to worry. I'm fairly capable of deciding when my body is ready to slow down."
Martin nodded, keeping his expression serious. "But if you experience any pain or discomfort, call me."
Louisa refrained from rolling her eyes at him. "Yes, Martin, I will." She looked down at James. "Do you want to give Daddy a hug before we leave, James?"
The toddler let go of Louisa's hand just as Martin reached down to pick him up. "Have a good day," he said, secretly cherishing the moment with his son. "You as well," he added, looking back to Louisa.
"I will," she replied, taking hold of James's hand once Martin set him down on his feet. She looped her school bag over her other shoulder then leaned over to kiss her husband. "Love you."
"Yes." He cleared his throat. "Love you, too." Giving him one last smile, Martin watched as Louisa and James left through the kitchen door then disappeared around the corner of the house. His espresso machine gave a final whistle and sputter, pulling him back to the task at hand. There was still about twenty minutes until the surgery was due to open, and after hearing Morwenna greet him "good morning" from the front entryway, Martin sat back down at the table with his cup of espresso to finish reading the journal article he'd started earlier.
. . .
"Are you going to have lots of fun today?" Louisa asked her son as they walked through the front entrance of the nursery school, having already been to the dry-cleaner's to drop off Martin's suits.
James looked up at his mother with a wide smile. "Yes!" he exclaimed, jumping forward along the painted red squares of the tiled floor.
"What do you think you're going to be doing today?" She swung their joined hands back and forth as they continued towards James's classroom.
"Fun!" the toddler replied. "With O-en."
Louisa smiled. "You're going to have fun with Owen? Is he a friend?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light and playful.
James nodded vigorously. "Yes!"
Louisa stopped them in the middle of the hallway just outside his classroom door. She bent down so she was level with James. "You know I'm very proud of you," she said, running her fingers over his fringe of blond hair. "My extraordinary little man."
James giggled in response. "Silly, Mummy."
Louisa chuckled. "Am I silly? I think you're the silly one." She tapped the tip of his nose then pulled him into her arms for a hug. "I love you, James Henry," she said, feeling his small arms wrap around her shoulders. "So very much."
After placing a kiss to the top of his head, Louisa eased herself back to her full height. She opened the door of the classroom and immediately James rushed inside ahead of her. She smiled to one of the girls who was supervising the morning classes. "Bye, James," she said, waving to her son. For a moment Louisa remained frozen in the doorway, watching as James and his new friend settled down on the floor with a large container filled with building blocks. She began to imagine a similar scene in their living room at home, wondering how well James will take to having a younger sibling.
As she turned to leave the classroom, Louisa was startled by the woman standing just behind her. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" On instinct, she placed a protective hand against her abdomen.
The other woman seemed just as startled. "No, I'm sorry. I should have said that I was right behind you."
Louisa chuckled. "It's all right. I shouldn't have been lingering in the doorway." Her gaze dropped down to the bright green lunch box that the woman was holding.
"We were in a bit of a hurry this morning," the woman explained, indicating the lunch box held at her side. "Had to rush back home for it."
Louisa's expression turned sympathetic. "I know how that can be."
The woman's gaze shifted towards the children playing in the classroom. "But they're worth it in the end, aren't they? Even with all the difficulties they put us through sometimes."
"They certainly are," Louisa said, turning just in time to see James smiling and laughing with his newest friend.
"Which one is yours?" the woman asked. But she quickly corrected herself, realizing how forward she must have sounded. "If you're comfortable answering that is."
"Not at all." Louisa pointed towards James. "My son James; he's the serious-looking one in the blue shirt who's very meticulous when it comes to his building blocks."
The woman chuckled. "Well it appears my son Owen has taken a certain liking to your son James." She held out her hand to introduce herself. "I'm Stephanie Bradbury, by the way."
Louisa took the woman's hand. "Louisa Ellingham."
"Head teacher at the primary school?"
"Yes." With a light laugh, Louisa added, "Also married to the village GP." She reached up to swipe her bangs to the side, a gesture that always helped to curve her nervousness.
"Right, of course. Doctor Ellingham. I don't know why I never made the connection before. My oldest, Bradley, he's in year three at the school. My husband and I moved here last year so we might've met during the orientation program. Then again that was quite a while ago . . ."
Louisa thought for a moment, trying to remember, only to shake her head a moment later. "I'm sorry. I meet so many parents and students over the years it's hard to remember everyone."
"No. Right, of course. I wasn't expecting you to."
Louisa furtively glanced down at her wristwatch. It was 8:26. "I hate to cut our conversation short but I really should get going. I'm expecting a delivery at the school at eight-thirty."
"Oh, of course. I won't keep you."
The two women switched places, stepping around each other. "It was really great to meet you," Louisa said, readjusting the strap of the school bag around her shoulder.
"Nice to meet you, too. Perhaps James would like to come over to our house sometime for a play date with Owen? Or vice versa?"
Louisa smiled politely in return. "I think James would really like that, but I'd have to discuss it with Martin . . . my husband. He's a bit strict when it comes to germs and, um, other children."
"Of course." Stephanie reached into her handbag for her phone. "If you'd like you can type your number into my contacts and I'll message you details later?"
Louisa hesitated for a moment, unsure if now was the best time to become well acquainted with one of her students' parents. Even though she knew most of the residents of Portwenn, how many of them could she say were close friends? "Sure." She typed her number into Stephanie's phone.
"Great, thanks! I'll be in contact soon then."
"Yeah. We could even meet for tea or coffee sometime?"
"I'd like that."
Louisa raised her hand. "Again, great meeting you."
"You as well."
By the time Louisa left the nursery school it was already past 8:30. As she came around the side of the primary school down Fore Street she noticed that the front gate was already open and a large white truck was parked just inside.
"There you are!" she heard Pippa Woodley say once she walked through the gate towards the school's front entrance.
"Sorry," Louisa said. "I was held up at the nursery school."
"Everything all right?"
Louisa shook her head. "Yeah. Just ran into a parent of one of our students that's all."
"They're asking about where to put the equipment," Pippa said, gesturing to the two uniformed men leaning against the side of the white truck.
"Who would have thought they'd be on time." They walked around to greet the two men. "Hi, sorry for the wait," Louisa said, addressing the delivery men. "I'm Louisa Ellingham, headmistress."
The tallest of the two men, of which the name Jeff was sewn in dark blue lettering on the upper right quadrant of his uniform, stepped forward with a handheld device about the size of a smartphone. "I just need someone to accept and sign for the order," he said, tilting the digital screen of the device towards the two women.
"Of course." Louisa signed her name as best she could with the tip of her finger.
"Here's a copy of the invoice as well." He handed Louisa a few sheets of stapled paper. "Was there a certain place you wanted everything?"
Louisa turned to face the harbor. "Yeah. Um, I think we'll keep the equipment that's not in boxes outside over there." She pointed to the far end of the pavement closest to the school. "Otherwise everything else we can store inside in the gymnasium."
"Okay. Mark?" Jeff gestured to his partner to raise open the door at the back of the truck.
Mark, whose build was a bit more stocky, let out a crinkly, dry cough. Both Louisa and Pippa shared a concerned look.
A short time later, while the two delivery men were still busy unloading the playground equipment, students began filtering in through the front gate.
"Do you need me to stay out here at all?" Pippa asked, looking at Louisa with a hand held above her face, shielding her eyes from the morning sun.
Louisa shook her head. "No, you go on ahead. I can manage." She glanced down at her watch. "Classes start in ten minutes."
"Don't I know it. And what's worse is that it's a Monday."
Louisa let out a soft laugh, watching as Pippa walked away towards the entrance of the school, herding in students.
"We're nearly done, Mrs. Ellingham," Jeff said, poking his head out from around the back of the truck. "Just one last piece."
"No worries," Louisa assured them. "And thank you, for unloading and deliverin' everything."
Jeff tugged down on the bill of his cap. "Just doing our job, ma'am. Woah, steady there!"
"I've got it!" Mark said, once again coughing excessively. "Don't worry. Ah!" He suddenly let out a pained cry as he reached for his chest, dropping his hold on the piece of equipment they were carrying.
"Hey! Mark?!" Jeff shouted, losing his grip as most of the equipment's weight fell forward, nearly crushing his left foot.
Hearing the commotion, Louisa rushed around to the back of the truck to investigate. "What happened?!"
"Don't know. Mark? You all right, mate?"
Mark was now on his knees, still clutching the center of his chest, but breathing very heavily. "I . . . can't . . ." He pointed to his throat. ". . . breathe."
Jeff tried shifting Mark to a sitting position. "Sure you can. Just take it nice and slow."
Mark shook his head at his co-worker. "No."
"I'll call my husband," Louisa said, hurriedly pulling her phone from her school bag. "He's the village GP."
"I'll ring for an ambulance as well," Jeff added, reaching into his back pocket.
"Martin," Louisa breathed out, once Morwenna finally put her through. "There's a situation at the school. One of the delivery men . . . I told you earlier this morning that they were coming . . . Well, one of them's having trouble breathing. And it looks like he's experiencing chest pain . . ." She looked over at Mark closely. "No, his lips aren't blue. . . . Yes, the other man already called for one." She shook her head wildly, feeling frustrated by his string of questions she had no answers to. "No, Martin, I don't know if his jaw or his arm hurts! Please, just come quick!" She nodded to herself while listening to his set of instructions. "Okay, yes, I will." After ending the call, Louisa turned to face the other delivery man. "The doctor will be here soon. He says to try and keep him calm and relaxed."
"Bit late for that now, ain't it?" Jeff said, gesturing with his head towards Mark, who was flat on his back seizing.
"Oh, God," Louisa whispered, thinking of what to do. "Of all the days for this to happen . . ." She took in a deep breath. "Right, okay. Um, I think we're supposed to turn him onto his side."
Once Martin finally came running through the gate a few minutes later, his medical bag in one hand and the other carrying his defibrillator kit, Louisa and Jeff had managed to move Mark onto his left side. "Why's he like this?" Martin asked, kneeling down next to the patient.
"He had a seizure," Louisa said, moving back so her husband could assess the situation.
"For how long?"
Louisa shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe a minute or two, then suddenly he just stopped."
"You were right to roll him on his side," Martin said, turning to look at his wife. He placed his fingers over the carotid artery in Mark's neck, feeling for a pulse.
"Will he be all right?" asked Jeff.
The question startled Martin, who hadn't acknowledged that there was a fourth person amongst the group. "I'm not sure. He's got a pulse . . . rapid, but better than nothing." He furrowed his brow, shifting his fingers a little higher up the neck. "Lymph nodes feel swollen." Pulling his stethoscope from his medical bag, Martin began to listen to Mark's heart and lungs. "You said he had trouble breathing and that he had chest pain?"
Jeff nodded. "Yeah. We were just unloading the last of the equipment when he just suddenly cried out."
"Has he been complaining of the pain all day or only when you were shifting the heavy equipment?"
Jeff pushed his cap back to scratch the side of his head. "I don't know. But he was coughing quite a lot."
Martin put away his stethoscope and inserted the end of his digital thermometer in Mark's ear. "He's got a slight fever." He then pulled back the unconscious man's eyelids to check for a pupillary response.
"Bloody hell his eyes are red!"
"Would you please step back!" Martin snapped, turning around to look at Jeff, who'd been hovering over his shoulder to see. "Thank you."
"Martin!" Louisa shouted, grabbing her husband's arm to get his attention. "He's having another fit!"
"Oh, God. Um, you?" Martin pointed at Jeff. "Is he allergic to any medication?"
Jeff shook his head, feeling panicky. "I dunno. I don't really know 'im that well outside of work."
"Brilliant." After opening nearly every compartment in his medical bag, Martin finally found a vial of anticonvulsant. Once injected, Mark regained consciousness soon after he stopped seizing. "Mr., um . . . Do you know where you are?"
Mark glanced from one person to the other, taking in several deep but measured breaths. "At work?" he said, his voice coming out thick and raspy.
"No," Martin said, shaking his head. "A geographical location. Do you know where you are?"
"Cornwall."
"Where in Cornwall?"
Mark closed his eyes for a moment, irritated by the sun shining overhead. "Port-something or other."
"Does your chest still hurt?" Martin continued his string of questioning, his mind going over every possible diagnosis he could think of.
"A little, but not as bad as before."
"Do you know what it could be?" Louisa asked, looking over at her husband.
Martin shook his head. "Could be many things. A chest infection or perhaps a cardiovascular or pulmonary event. But my guess is that he has sarcoidosis."
"I got what?!" Mark exclaimed, raising the upper half of his body towards the doctor.
"Sarcoidosis," Martin repeated. "It's an inflammatory disease caused by granulomas—"
"What, like cancer?"
"No. A granuloma is a small, benign mass of cells that clump together when the immune system is triggered by an inflammatory response. If these cells clump together in an organ it can affect how that organ functions. The lungs and lymph nodes are most commonly affected, but in your case it seems to have also affected your eyes and your brain."
"How did he get it then?" the other delivery man, Jeff, asked.
Martin began closing his medical bag, hearing the sirens of the ambulance approaching the village. "It's not very well known what causes it. It's thought that people with a genetic predisposition to the disease likely have overactive immune responses due to certain bacteria, viruses, or chemicals. But, um, any sort of infection or area of inflammation that would trigger the immune system is a likely cause. Though I can't be sure that you have sarcoidosis, your symptoms do seem to fit. The doctors at the hospital in Truro can confirm it."
Mark's expression turned worried. "Am I gonna die?"
"No, it's a treatable condition. Though most cases do tend to clear up on their own."
Mark leaned back down against the pavement, closing his eyes in relief.
"Though I'm surprised cardiovascular disease hasn't killed you first," Martin said, murmuring under his breath.
Louisa narrowed her eyes at her husband, fighting the urge to admonish him for his insulting comment.
A few minutes later, while Martin explained the details of what happened to the team of emergency personnel who were loading Mark into the back of the ambulance, Louisa and Jeff were wrapping up their conversation about the safety and return policy of the playground equipment.
"If you have any questions or concerns about the equipment the number for our warehouse as well as customer service is at the bottom of the last page," he explained, referring to the invoice he'd given her.
Louisa smiled. "I'm sure the kids are going to love it. Thank you."
Jeff nodded. "Of course—"
"Louisa," Martin called out, turning towards her once the back doors of the ambulance were sealed shut.
She turned away from the delivery man, nodding politely as she excused herself. "What, Martin?"
He shook his head. "Um, nothing. I was just going to say that I ought to get back . . ."
Louisa couldn't help but smile at him. She knew he was lingering on purpose, and as much as she wanted him to stay, there was just too much that needed to be done before the end of the day. "Of course. Patients are probably lining up as we speak."
Martin glanced down at his watch with a frown. "It's only ten after nine, Louisa."
"No, I know. I was just making a joke."
He inclined his head. "I see."
Louisa raised her eyebrows. "I better get to it, then. Lots to do. The playground equipment needs sorting and now I have to make a mind-numbing call to the school governors to make sure we're not liable for that man's accident."
"Right." He was about to turn away, but decided against it. "I was, um, wondering if I might cook dinner tonight? To give you a bit of a break."
She smiled once more. "I'd like that. Thank you, Martin." He cleared his throat in response, mumbling something she couldn't quite discern. "I'll see you later, then."
"Yes." He watched as she turned to head back into the school, slightly smiling at how beautiful she looked. And even though she was only a few months along in her pregnancy, from observing her side profile he could just make out the slightest distention of her abdomen. It made the prospect even more exciting knowing that they were the only ones who actually knew about it.
About an hour and a half after classes started, Louisa was still cataloging and sorting the boxed playground equipment in the gymnasium when she heard the squeak of the double-door creak open. She looked up with a gasp, feeling startled by the sudden noise.
"Hi. Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Elliot said, stepping through into the gymnasium.
Louisa let out a long breath of relief, smiling. "It's all right. I just wasn't expecting anyone."
Elliot ran his free hand down the length of his blue tie, smoothing out the silk fabric. "Would you like some help?" he offered, seeing that she was struggling with a rather cumbersome box.
"Aren't you in the midddle of a lesson?"
He shook his head. "No. It's study hour in the library today. I was just taking a short walk to stretch my legs."
Louisa set down the box she had been trying to lift, sighing deeply. "If you have a few minutes?"
Elliot set down the textbook he'd been carrying. "Of course."
"I just need this one moved," she said, indicating the box she'd been struggling with, "so I can check the contents of the one underneath."
"Sure. Where do you want this one then?"
"Anywhere's fine." She moved to grab hold of a corner but Elliot stopped her.
"Should you really be lifting all this?" he asked, noticing that most of the boxes were large and probably quite heavy. "In your condition."
Louisa raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm perfectly fine, thank you. Anyway, I'm not that far along yet," she started to explain, but was immediately cut off by another voice just behind them.
"Oh my god, you're pregnant!"
Both Elliot and Louisa turned to see Pippa standing frozen just inside the doorway of the gymnasium, her mouth slightly agape and her eyes wide with astonishment.