Martin's car flew to a stop, the gravel crunching under it, and he jumped out. Someone watching might have thought there was a fire or emergency. That's certainly what Joan thought as she looked to him from her chicken coop early the next morning.

"Marty, what is the emergency?" Joan asked, walking toward him, bundled up in a coat, boots, and a hat. The weather was extremely damp, making it feel colder than it was. There was a light fog in the air as well, and with the early hour, the sky was still somewhat dark.

"Ahh, I am going out of town," he stated, nodding to her. He really had not wanted to stop and tell Auntie Joan about his sudden trip. He'd thought about not telling her, but she did check on him often. Word would get around that he had a sign on the door referring emergencies to the hospital in Truro. Martin never just left town, not without a purpose, and he knew Joan would work like a bloodhound to figure out what he was doing. Joan narrowed her gaze and looked pointedly at him.

"You're going out of town? Is someone hurt in a neighboring village?" Joan asked.

"No, it's nothing like that," he told her quickly, wanting this to just be over. He hated discussing personal matters, and even though Joan was family and knew of the details surrounding his relationship with Louisa, he did not want to talk about it with her. He sighed and let out his breath, "I'm catching the morning train to London."

"London?" Joan asked him, clearly surprised. "Marty, we just ate Christmas dinner together yesterday afternoon and didn't mention it. What's really going on?"

Martin closed his eyes briefly in annoyance. He knew she wouldn't let things be. He cared for his aunt, honestly, more than any of his other relatives, but he really wanted her to just take him at his word and not ask questions. He did not understand why it was so important to meddle in other's lives.

"Auntie Joan," he said crisply, almost in an irritated tone. As he opened his mouth to continue, he saw her gaze, saw the actual worry in her eyes. Martin was not one to pick up on many cues from people, but for those close to him, he knew their cues. He knew the look when Louisa looked at him lovingly; that warmed him. He knew the look of disgust from her too, well, most of the time. With Joan, he also knew her look of care and concern, and he could see that she was concerned. Briefly thinking over the last few minutes, he realized it must look like quite a state to come flying up to her home in his car the way he had. He let out his breath and tried to get the information out in a painless manner.

"I have to attend to some unfinished business in London," he started to explain as Joan walked up and stood right next to him. He frowned and continued, "Louisa and I have unfinished business, things to discuss."

"Oh, Marty," Joan sighed and shook her head. "I know you still love that girl, but she left the village. I adore you both, but just don't see you two being a match. The pair of you are just creating more and more heartache. What brought this on?"

"I don't want to discuss it, my personal life," he told her, and he saw her frown. Continuing, he waved his hands, "I simply wanted to tell you I would be out of town so you do not worry. This entire village is way too involved in my personal life, in the personal lives of all the bloody villagers. So, if you can refrain from asking more, it's personal, and I don't want to discuss it. I'm a grown man, a doctor, and I need some privacy. I never have that here. Part of the reason everything was so mucked up with well everything," he exclaimed loudly, "is that no one gives anyone any bloody privacy."

Joan looked Martin up and down, finally nodding at him, "Alright, Martin. You are a grown man; I know that. I do worry about you. I know relationships are not easy for you, even with someone like me. I hate to see you hurting, but I wish you the best, whatever that is."

Martin straightened his suit jacket and looked to her, letting out his breath, "Thank you. I'll be off."

Joan stepped toward him and put her arms around him as she put her head into his chest, "I love you Marty. Know that. Know that life doesn't always work out as we expect. I know that same philosophy brought you to this village, life not working out, but even with the best love for something, it just isn't meant to happen."

"Yes," he said quietly as she hugged him. He finally brought his arms to her back and gave her a pat. She released him and nodded to him.

"When are you coming back?"

"Three days," he answered. "I have a duty to my patients. The surgery is closed until them. Ahh, bye," he said and turned to walk to the car. Joan watched him, and as he pulled away, she gave him a small, sad wave. He watched her in his rearview mirror until he couldn't see her and then set his mind on his trip. He had a long day ahead of him.

Martin arrived in London by mid-afternoon. By the time he checked into his hotel, it was nearing his early dinner hour. He was set to meet Louisa the next morning for breakfast, a restaurant he suggested. After all, London had been his home. He'd jumped at the chance to suggest a proper location after seeing the abysmal state of Louisa's flat; he was worried anywhere she might suggest may lack in the area of sanitation. He knew Louisa and knew that her standards of cleanliness were not always to the level of his. The last thing he wanted was some location that took his focus from the conversation at hand. She'd been willing to meet him at an old, favorite restaurant. He didn't have many, but this one in particular, had been one he'd frequented as a surgeon. He often had strange hours and would go for breakfast if he'd had to work overnight on a complicated surgery. He'd had to attend many different work functions too, sometimes over brunch, and the hospital had always favored this same restaurant. Yes, for their discussion, it would be satisfactory.

Martin would have been perfectly content to meet Louisa this evening, but she'd told him she had a prior engagement. He figured it must be time with Danny, good old Danny Boy. What else could Louisa be doing the day after Christmas that was more important? His mind had brewed over that for hours, thinking about it constantly on the train. Resolved that it was nothing that could be changed, Martin had his early dinner, fish from the hotel restaurant, and he decided to stretch his legs a bit and walk in the dark, London evening. The streetlights lit up the place, something much different than Portwenn. He realized, as he walked, how much he enjoyed the city, the thrill of everything. It went back to walking and not knowing anyone. It just was better, in his opinion, to be nondescript. He could not be nondescript in Portwenn, even though, on a different level, he did enjoy his walks there. He'd come to enjoy the picturesque views, something that London did not have. London had window shopping, something Martin did not enjoy. Tonight, though, as he walked, he thought about meeting Louisa in the morning. He decided that he should probably do something kind regarding Christmas. What does one get an ex-fiancée for Christmas? He didn't know. Maybe he should get her slippers like Auntie Joan's slippers. She'd liked them. He hated getting gifts; they were so pointless in his opinion, but he remembered back to their wedding that didn't happen. Louisa had gushed at the few wedding gifts they had received ahead of time, things he didn't understand or really want. She'd been happy, smiling, and commented on how thoughtful the gifts were. He knew she liked gifts, even if he hated buying them. As Martin continued his evening walk, he started to pay attention to the different shops he passed, trying to come up with an appropriate ex-fiancée gift. What was appropriate? Suddenly, as he thought about it, he passed a shop. It had him stop and look inside, his mind moving quickly, thinking about this gift. He really didn't want to buy it, but he was sure she would like it. Martin sighed and opened the door, the bell alerting the shopkeeper. The things he did for Louisa…

Martin was up early the next morning, ready for breakfast long before he was to meet Louisa. She's first suggested 9:00, but he'd asked if they could meet earlier. Breakfast was well before 9:00, at least in his opinion. She'd agreed, and they were set to meet at 8:30, his compromise as she'd pointed out she had about a 20 min commute to meet him. His was nearly that as well, and he was just ready to discuss whatever they were to discuss. He was nervous; he knew that much. As he walked toward the location, he got a lump in his throat, realizing that he hadn't clarified Danny. She wouldn't bring him, would she? Oh, he hoped she had the decency not to rub that in his face. Martin had agreed to this face to face, having traveled from Cornwall to see Louisa NOT Louisa and Danny. He started to sweat as he walked, even though the morning air was brisk and damp. He shook his head, trying to get the idea out of it. Breakfast. It was simply breakfast to discuss well, whatever there was to discuss. What he wanted to tell her was that he hadn't exactly been truthful about his "you won't make me happy" comment. He felt the need to clarify it, or he HAD felt the need to clarify it. Louisa now with Danny, well, she'd apparently made her choice once and for all.

Martin looked down at his suit, a new pinstripe one, with a crisp white shirt and red tie. It was actually festive, something that he noted as he looked around at all the Christmas decorations still hanging around the city. He'd worn this suit because he really liked the feel; he felt comfortable in it even if the breakfast he was about to attend made him almost uncomfortable. Martin looked at his reflection in the glass before he opened the door to the restaurant. Impeccable. He suddenly grunted, stomped his foot, sighed, and closed his eyes. In his hurry to be punctual and with his mind thinking of many things, he'd forgotten the bloody Christmas gift. It was still sitting in his hotel on the bed. He would just have to explain to Louisa. No time for that now; it was time to meet her. Martin took a deep breath and stepped inside.

"Ahh, yes, Ellingham, Dr. Ellingham," he told the woman at the door. "I made a reservation."

"Yes, Dr. Ellingham, the rest of your party has arrived and is already at the table," she told him.

"What?" Martin's eyes opened widely, and he immediately started to scan the restaurant. "Ahh, one or two?"

"Pardon?" the woman asked.

"How many arrived? Was it just a woman or a man with the woman?"

"I'm not sure," she shook her head with a small smile. "There are two of us here today, big crowds with the holidays," she leaned forward in an almost whisper. "My counterpart seated the rest of your party."

"Never mind," he said with an irritated sigh. It was what it was, and Martin just needed to get this over.

"Sir?" Martin's head snapped up to the woman. He'd gotten lost in thought. "Shall I escort you?"

"Yes," he said firmly, and Martin followed her to the table. As they rounded the corner, he let out a low breath. Louisa, just Louisa. She was busy studying the menu and didn't notice he'd arrived. Just as Martin arrived at the table, she glanced up.

"Louisa," he said in his quiet tone, reserved only for her. He took in her appearance, dark navy blue dress, red scarf around her neck. Her hair was down, but gathered somehow, maybe just the sides. He couldn't stare at it to figure it out. She looked breathtaking.

"Hello, Martin," she said with a small smile and a nod. "I hope this table is satisfactory."

Matin wanted to tell her it was certainly satisfactory if she was sitting at it. Instead, he simply nodded, his eyes still locked on her features. "Yes," he said, as he snapped back to reality and accepted the menu from the woman before nodding to her.

"I'm glad you and I could meet, in person," she said, a breathless tone to her voice. "I believe we have much to discuss."