Chapter 19: Conflicted Feelings

Monday Afternoon

Louisa clicked the lock on the caravan door and leaned her back against it, tears starting to flow. Why did Martin have to be so infuriatingly insensitive? It was something she wondered about ever since she had known him. After all they had been through together now she was trying to be more understanding of the way he was but she had hoped he would develop more understanding of her conflicted feelings about her father.

She thought back to some events not so long ago.

000

It was a gorgeous, warm day, with tourists swarming around the harbour. Louisa had decided to treat herself to an ice cream cone, when Martin happened by. She was happy to see him then. He had sincerely apologized for the unfortunate erotomania accusation, her Dad was back in town, and both the men in her life had actually remembered her birthday the day before. She was in such a good mood, she offered to buy Martin an ice cream.

"Oh no, hurts my teeth."

"Dad always used to take us for ice cream every weekend," she reminisced, taking a lick. "Said that after the age of six my arteries were made of ice."

"That sounds fun," he humoured her.

"Think you had a bit of difficulty at the surgery yesterday," she remarked.

"Uh no, not really."

"Oh, Dad said he practically had to force you to give his friend Jonathan some medication. I told him that was just how you liked to welcome new patients."

"It's not," Martin said, seriously. "There are procedures."

"Blood out of a stone, that's what he said," she gently teased him.

"Well, at least I'm not a thief," he retorted.

She had grown used to his blunt manner but that remark genuinely hurt, especially considering she had publicly told off everyone down the pub who had mocked Dad the day before. "Martin, I was just teasing you. And I wouldn't have thought that… you, of all people, would join in with local gossip."

"I'm not," he protested.

"All this time you keep your distance from everyone and when you finally decide to show some community spirit it's to join in with malicious rumours about my father." Suddenly she could no longer enjoy her ice cream

"But they're not rumours," he persisted. "Ask Joan, she said she caught him red handed. Stealing the money."

Now furious, she mashed her half-finished ice cream into his forehead as the seagulls screamed around them.

"Louisa!" he entreated her, but it was too late, she didn't want to hear any more from him. She turned on her heel and walked away.

But his accusation nagged at her. That night, she was having dinner at home with Dad and she had to say something.

"Dad, I haven't forgotten, you know, sitting in the bookmakers on my 10th birthday with a packet of sweets with you telling me how the next race was gonna be the one that would come in. It was always the next one."

"Louisa," he reproached her.

She was very serious. "Dad, I need to know. Did you take that money?"

"No, I didn't." He was equally serious. "I might be many things but I'm not a thief."

He sounded as sincere as always, but she knew she had to face facts. "When one person tells you that you're wrong you can ignore them but when it's a whole village… it's hard. You know every day I have to ask myself - am I being a fool still believing in you? I… I know how hard it must have been for you bringing us up after Mum left."

He was quick to dismiss any mention of Mum. "Louisa, that money was for the lifeboats. Do you really think that I'd stoop that low?"

"So Joan… Joan never caught you. She never saw you take it? She's lying as well?"

Unable to face her, he got up to put his dish in the sink, muttering "Joan. Meddling cow."

By now Louisa was in tears. "How could you?"

He turned to face her. "I had gambling debts, big debts. There was this horse, a sure thing. When it won I was gonna pay the money back. Of course…."

"I meant how could you lie to me all these years? How could you let me make a fool of myself in front of my friends? In front of the whole village?!"

"I'm sorry."

She got up to fully confront him. "I think… I think you should leave in the morning, Dad." Then she left the room.

When morning came she was still angry at Dad, at the village, at the whole world, but she was no longer angry at Martin. The review board was meeting at noon to decide his fate and she felt that, for all his faults, he would need a friend on his side.

She showed up early to the conference room at The Harbour Café, where Gavin Peters, and the other two board members waited for Martin to show up for his appointment. She was the only one seated on her side of the table facing the large window looking out on the Platt, so she was the only one who saw him come striding down the hill on time, only to be distracted by the pastie-eating contest going on there.

"He's probably been held up by a patient," she said. "He's very dedicated." She kept her expression carefully neutral so as not to show her dismay as the scene outside silently escalated. Martin was clearly arguing with the contestants over something and he began confiscating all the pasties in a bin bag. Peters and the other two were oblivious but getting agitated over his lateness.

"If Dr.Ellingham doesn't feel that his attendance is in his best interests then the board will have no choice but to consider the accusations substantiated," Peters said.

Outside, Martin was clearly ranting at the crowd and they began to pelt him with pasties. How could someone so intelligent be so clueless about dealing with people? Louisa didn't know whether to cringe or laugh, but she suppressed the urge to do either.

"Well, I think we've sat here long enough," Peters said. "Obviously Dr. Ellingham has decided to show his contempt for this process."

At that moment, Martin came in, dishevelled and very agitated. "Can we push this along? Something I have to attend to. I also have potentially infected processed meat in my hair."

"Dr. Ellingham," Peters was in full officious mode. "This review board is…"

"I know what a review board is. Get to the point."

"Are you aware that I've spoken to a number of people in the village? They felt that your attitude towards them was… a little superior. Some would go so far as to say condescending. Others simply settled on rude. I have a list of the incidents cited."

"Is there a particular medical problem you wish to discuss?"

"Health care is more than that. Especially in villages like this. A doctor needs to go the extra yard, to be a part of the community."

Martin had clearly had enough. "All right, look. You've carried out your investigation, you've got lots of evidence, and I don't doubt that you've reached your conclusion. So why don't you just cut to the chase."

"Fine," Peters said.

Louisa was struck by how different Martin's attitude to this review board was to the interview committee where she first met him properly. Then he was all confidence, and even charm, as he dazzled them with his credentials; he took the anger she had directed at him in stride. She had called him out on his poor social skills and predicted he would inevitably alienate people. She had been proven right but now she saw so much more to him than just an odd man who had gawked at her inappropriately on an airplane.

Now it was Martin's turn to be angry, which was understandable perhaps, but Louisa was saddened to see he also seemed resigned to his fate, unwilling and unable to defend himself. She decided it was time she became his defender.

"You know," she said, "I'm actually quite surprised by some of the people that you've chosen to interview about Dr. Ellingham. I mean, Mrs. Redtree, she's always got an axe to grind, you know. Last month it was because it was the postman left her gate open, practically strung him up for it. Mr. Thornton. Complaining is his hobby. He even wanted to ban the seagulls because they made too much noise. You know, he's hardly a reliable witness."

"Well, I spoke to a number of people," Peters said.

"Really, and none of them had a good word to say about Dr. Ellingham?"

"Well, some, um… the chemist, for example, she was very… enthusiastic about him…" Peters sounded a bit baffled by the level of the chemist's enthusiasm

"Mrs. Tishell, yeah. So you just chose to write down the testimonies of those who enjoy whinging, hmm?"

"Miss Glasson, what's your point?"

"Well, even I find Dr. Ellingham a little bit… frustrating at times." As Louisa spoke, the other woman on the review board nodded. Louisa ignored her. "But I also know that we are very lucky to have him here in the village, you know so do most of these people. So my point is…"

Peters cut her off. "Thank you Miss Glasson. Dr. Ellingham, there is a recent initiative. A training course focusing on people skills."

Louisa heard Martin mutter "Oh God!"

"It's two weeks, and it will teach you how to relate to your patients as people, not just medical complaints. After that, I'll return to see how you've taken it on board."

"And what if I choose not to attend your initiative, Gavin?"

"Well then, I'll recommend you be removed. It really is down to you, Dr. Ellingham."

Martin muttered "Right." He got up, took his bin bag of potentially infected pasties, and left. Peters threw up his hands in disgust.

"Well, he probably just needs some time to think about it," Louisa said, lamely.

She went out after him. From a distance she saw him dispose of the bin bag and stalk through the village, up the hill, and into the surgery. She followed, unable to keep up with his long legged stride. She was vaguely aware that she passed Dad's unstable friend Jonathan, who was sitting on a bench eating chips, but she wasn't concerned with him. It was only later she realized he must have followed her.

Louisa went into the surgery and straight to Martin's office. She knocked.

"Come," he said tersely.

"Was that really necessary?" she confronted him.

"No, it wasn't." He was clearly very tense.

"You, you… you do realize how serious this is?" Louisa's calm demeanour when challenging Peters at the review board was gone. She felt really distraught.

"Yes, I do."

"Martin, they want to get rid of you. Don't you even care about that? Look, I know that you've never really fitted in around here and I know that you've never really tried and you're not interested in doing so, and I've always tried to understand that about you, because… because... well that's just you, that's what you're like. But I don't even think this is about that. I think that you deliberately wanted that review to go wrong, and I think that you want them to replace you and to send away from here. Well, Martin, you know, for what it's worth… I would like you to stay. So there."

She had poured her heart out to him and she could see it had an effect. His face softened and she thought there was almost a glint of a tear in his eye. This is it, she thought, I've finally really gotten through to him.

"Louisa…" he began.

That's when Jonathan barged in.

000

Someone rattled the caravan door handle and then knocked.

"Go away, Martin!"

"He's gone," came Jago's voice. "Let me in, it's my caravan needed to get away from him for a while, and from all the nosy parkers out there." She slumped down onto the sofa. "It's all so confusing. My relationship with my father has always been an emotional rollercoaster and now it's the same way with Martin. I needed to get away from here for a while so I could come to terms with my Dad, the way he is and all. I feel like I've come to accept it but I'm still having bad dreams about… well, I'm sure you heard about what happened a few weeks ago."

"Yeah," he said, plopping down beside her. "Joe Penhale was telling me something about some mental patient off his meds took a bunch of you hostage so he could get his hands on some explosives, something like that. Joe wasn't too clear on the details."

"It was one of my Dad's dodgy friends. I'm sure Dad had no clue how bad the whole thing would get but Crazy Jonathan threatened me with a knife and he stabbed my Dad. Nearly stabbed Martin too. It's getting better but I still wake up shaking some nights."

"You might have PTSD, only natural after what you went through. I was only 12 when my Dad died and I had a hard time of it, even though I hadn't seen him in a few years. Then later… I don't know if you know what happened with my Mum after we moved away to London."

Louisa did know. "You found her dead of a heroin overdose in your flat," she said gently.

"Yeah, I guess my sad, dysfunctional childhood has been pretty well covered by the tabloid press."

"I'm so sorry, Jago. How did you cope with all that?"

"I didn't for a long time," he said. "I partied a lot, booze and cocaine were my best mates, until I hit bottom, realized I was gonna end up like my Mum. I've been incredibly lucky with my career but what I thought was having a good time was really self medicating. I don't recommend it. Now I'm five years clean and sober and proud of it."

"I tell you what," he put his arm around her. "You need something fun to distract you from your woes. You might have heard, I'm throwing a big party for the village this Friday night."

"Caroline said something about that, a masked ball. Pretty exotic for little Portwenn."

"Well, maybe it's time sleepy little Portwenn woke up for one night. It'll make the old Portwenn Players Ball look like a Women's Institute garden party." Jago got up and rummaged in a drawer till he found what he was looking for. "It's my thank you for all the inconvenience we've been causing here with my film project. I may be living sober but I still like to be around people having a good time. Anyway," he handed her an envelope made from heavy, cream coloured paper. "I'd like you to be my special guest."

Louisa was stunned. "Really?" She opened it to find a gilt edged invitation.

"Yeah. Everyone is supposed to go incognito and guess each other's identities but if you just happen to let slip to me what your costume will be I can plan something to coordinate with you."

Louisa was feeling better already.

To be continued…