Previously on Doc Martin: The Movie: Martin and Penhale have determined that Loveday Wenn was the one who attacked them with the drone to cover up her scheme to marry Michael Wenn and that she was related to Mrs. Daniels. She suspects Mrs. Daniels murdered her uncle, framed Jago Powell to seem like he was driving drunk, and plans to poison someone close to Martin to distract him from investigating. Martin is desperate to warn Louisa she is in danger.

Chapter 42: Meanwhile at Wenn Hall…

Thursday Midday

Louisa was not happy. She had woken up with a mild cold, in the form of a headache and sore throat, and when she heard the rain battering against her cottage windows she wanted nothing more than to spend the day in her warm bed.

Still, she roused herself by 9 a.m. to seek the comfort of a hot shower. She put on her fluffy slippers and robe, made herself some tea and toast, then did some laundry. By 11 she put on some jeans and a cosy jumper, not feeling excited enough by the prospect of meeting Jago to take much care in dressing, and drove through the chilly rain out to Wenn Hall.

"Lovely day, innit," Jago chuckled when he met her at the door. "Guess we won't be having a picnic after all. Just as well, woke up feeling a bit under the weather."

"Me too. I'd love to just relax by a fireplace today."

"I know just the place." He led her quietly past the sitting room, where Wynnie Baxter and the film crew were going through some scenes, and down the hall to a quiet wing of the house. There in the library, a fire was blazing away in the hearth, beneath a mantelpiece adorned with a row of assorted Egyptian cat statues.

"Oh, this is perfect!" Louisa couldn't help but feel impressed with the beautiful wood-panelled room, which was furnished to feel both elegant and intimate at the same time. "Are you sure we're allowed to be in here?"

"Of course," he laughed. "I'm a celebrity guest. I have the run of the house. Besides, the Wenns are out somewhere for the day."

They settled on the sofa in front of the fire. "What do you say about some tea? I could go back to the set and get some from the craft service station," Jago said.

"No need to trouble yourself, Mr. Powell." Mrs. Daniels appeared in the doorway. Louisa had the uneasy feeling she had been listening to them. "I can fetch you both some tea, if you like."

"Actually, I think I'd like some hot chocolate… If it's not too much bother," Louisa said.

"Hmmm, hot chocolate. Haven't had that in ages," Jago said. "I'll have some too."

Mrs. Daniels appeared to hesitate. "Of course, no bother at all. I can make it up special, with real Cornish cream, for the both of you." She smiled her tight, mirthless smile and departed.

"She gives me the creeps but at least she's good for something," Jago muttered. He glanced around the room and brightened up. "Did you ever think a couple of kids like us would have ended up like this?"

"Like what?"

"Just look at this place. Creepy old housekeeper to make up the fire and bring us hot chocolate on a gloomy day. Fresh cut flowers daily." He got up to sniff a bouquet on an end table. "Roses in, if I'm not mistaken, a 19th Century Chinese vase. We're sitting on an antique sofa. I believe that's a John Constable landscape on that wall. Those Egyptian kitties look pretty old too. I've acquired a taste for some of the finer things in life now that I've got a bit of success, and I know quality when I see it."

"You're right," Louisa said. She went over to one shelf and looked at a leather bound volume. "This looks like a first edition 'Price and Prejudice.' I'm almost afraid to touch it."

"Go on, pick it up. You only live once," he laughed. "I'm good for the damage if you spill something on it."

She took the volume and sat beside him again, carefully leafing through the pages.

"I've really missed Cornwall," Jago continued. "I'd love to have a place like this here. Wenn is having financial troubles, did you know that? That's why he agreed to let us film here, it takes a lot of money to keep a place like this going and some of these old money families can't handle it anymore. He doesn't want to think about having to sell off some of these old heirlooms. If he can't keep it going I might just make him an offer. I could buy this house and everything in it. Back when I was in school here, none of the Wenns would have given me the time of day, not that they would have been stuck in a piddling state-run school with the likes of me. And to think he's dependent on my film production to save his family's estate now."

"You've come a lot farther than I have. I'm just the head of a piddling state school," she said sarcastically.

"Don't take it that way, you've got plenty to be proud of," he reassured her. "Look at you. I remember when you were a skinny girl who had to shop for your own clothes at the Salvation Army. I'll bet you learned to cook because your old Dad couldn't be depended on for more than opening a tin of baked beans most nights."

"I'm embarrassed to admit how right you are." Louisa carefully laid the old book aside.

"And did anybody in your family give you any encouragement or support to go to university? I'm right again, of course. Where would you be if you hadn't had the brains and determination to do that? Probably married to a grizzled old fisherman with a pack of kids by now and struggling to pay the mortgage, or better yet a single mum working as a waitress with no hope of getting a mortgage. And you've had to live down defending your old Dad all these years only to have him show up again with more trouble in tow."

"So you heard about that," she said. "I guess the gossip mill has been at work again."

"You know it never stops in a place like this."

"Yeah, Dad didn't mean any harm, not to me anyway, but he could have gotten us killed," she sighed. "And to think he was the responsible parent in my family."

"Excuse me, sir and madam. Your hot chocolate." Mrs. Daniels came in bearing a silver tray with two bone china cups. Louisa was delighted to see the cups were topped with whipped cream dusted with cocoa powder and there was also a dish of chocolate digestives. The housekeeper set the tray on the table and discretely disappeared.

"Be careful, it's very hot," Jago said, holding his cup to his lips. "I think the whipped cream keeps the heat in." He set the cup back down, untasted. "So things haven't been all bad for you lately. I heard you were going out with Danny Steel again. There were rumours you two were engaged for a while."

"Well, I'm not embarrassed to say that bit of gossip is completely wrong. I was seeing Danny recently, and he did ask me to marry him, but I never seriously considered it. He's back in London now."

"So you sent him packing. That surprises me. Seems like you and old Dan would have made a beautiful couple."

"Not so beautiful. Danny was as changeable as the weather. He kept talking about how he wanted to settle down back here in the village, he was even fixing up his Mum's old house for us, then he found out he won some project in London so he was suddenly eager for us to move there. And he's found religion lately too, always going on about the Lord moving in mysterious ways."

"So Danny Steel turned out to be a God-botherer!" Jago laughed.

"He wasn't that bad, he means well," Louisa conceded. "It's just not what I'm looking for. You know, he didn't even have enough sense to wear a dust mask when he was sanding the floors at his Mum's house. He ended up making himself really sick, he could have died, but luckily … things turned out OK."

She thought back to how when Danny collapsed, unable to breathe, Martin had saved the day once again despite his obvious dislike of Danny, and how she had snipped at Martin as the ambulance prepared to take Danny away, but this didn't seem like a good time to get into all that. She lifted up her cup to blow on it but it was still too hot to drink.

"Sounds like something my Dad would have done," Jago said. "He didn't have enough sense not to drive around the barriers at a train crossing. Course he was blind drunk at the time. Didn't turn out too lucky for him, did it."

"Guess I should count my blessings my Dad only ended up in prison, instead of…" Louisa couldn't bring herself to say the word she was thinking.

Jago seemed to read her thoughts. "Yeah, dead. And your Mum ended up in Spain instead of the morgue."

She knew that his mother had died of a heroin overdose when he was a struggling young actor in London.

"I don't mean it to sound like that," he said, seeing her sad expression. "It's not a competition to see who had the most crap parents."

"It must hurt even more that she never got to see you become such a success," Louisa said.

"Yeah, well, it's her own fault for making such a mess of her life," his obvious sadness offset the bitterness of his tone. "You know, a few years ago the bloke she was living with when she died contacted me. He's in Australia now. Wanted some money to keep from selling his story to the gossip rags. He was the one that supplied her with the heroin that killed her. I wanted to fly down there and strangle him with my own hands."

"So what did you do?"

He shrugged, resigned. "I paid him. Figured he'd blow it all on drugs and go out the same way my Mum did. That's what I told myself anyway." He had been avoiding her eyes, but now he looked directly at her. "You know, you're the only one outside of my lawyers that knows about that. I'm trusting you not to go to the tabloids."

"Don't worry about me."

He smiled. "I've known some dodgy people in my life, but I'd never worry about you Louisa. You're solid as a rock, and sweet as a stick of rock."

She felt a pang of guilt when he said that. She didn't feel solid or sweet at all, at least when it came to dealing with… No, she didn't want to think about Martin right now. To cover her feelings, she touched her cup on the silver tray. "Still a bit hot. Getting better though."

"So, um…" Jago was being so honest with her Louisa was reluctant to bring up what she had read on the gossip website but it was still nagging at her. "Your urgent business in New York, it involved a paternity test, didn't it."

"Oh, so you heard about that little mess."

"That seems like a cavalier way of describing it. Do you actually think she's lying about you being the father or…"

"Or what?"

Louisa couldn't hold back what was bothering her any longer. "Or are you just being difficult because you don't want to take responsibility?"

"Why would I take responsibility if it turns out the kid is not my responsibility?"

"But what if he is? You don't want to be… well, like your Dad was. Running away from a problem." Or like my Mum, she thought to herself.

"Look, if the kid is mine of course I'll help support him. But the mother is a problem. Lesley Larson is one of those teenage model-actresses that grew up to be a celebrity train wreck, in and out of rehab. I don't know what I was thinking when we got together that weekend, but it's not good for me to be around someone like that."

"You shouldn't be so negative."

"I'm just like my Mum, she was always jumping from one boyfriend to the next. Those gossip rags mock me for having a new girlfriend every month." He laughed sarcastically. "I can't tell if the tabloid journos are prudes or just jealous, but it's true, I can't seem to have a stable relationship, I'm not even sure I want one. Why should I care anyway, there's always someone new around the corner."

"But… but, you should care. Maybe you're attracted to damaged types, or maybe you unconsciously sabotage your relationships, or maybe you just can't help fleeing when things get difficult."

"I know I'm not perfect, but I'm not like you Louisa."

"What are you talking about?"

"You came out of a dysfunctional family but you're so stable. You've got a responsible job, you're a pillar of your little community. Everybody loves you."

"Oh, I don't know about that." The whole conversation was making her very uncomfortable, and Jago seemed unsettled as well.

There was an awkward silence, and they both reached for their hot chocolate at the same time. Louisa was relieved that the temperature was finally just right. They both raised their cups, eager for that first comforting sip.

"Excuse me. Are you Louisa Glasson?"

The flat American accent distracted them from the hot chocolate. Wynnie Barlow appeared in the library doorway, mobile phone in hand.

"Wynnie! Are you following me around?" Jago was clearly annoyed by her appearance.

"Get over yourself, Jago. I didn't even go to your crazy masked ball, why would I follow you around," she said, dismissively. "I have a message from Dr. Ellingham."

"A message?" Louisa was very confused by this turn of events.

"I was on break so I was trying to get a signal on my cell phone. This place is in a terrible dead spot. I went up to the third floor, I suppose that's the second floor to you Brits, and I managed to get a signal there. I wanted to check on my kids. I'm a really hands-on mom, When I'm on location I call the nanny every day to see how they're doing."

"What about Dr. Ellingham's message?" Louisa interrupted.

"I'm getting to that. So I get the signal and this text pops up." Wynnie poked at her phone and then read from it. "'Urgent, find Louisa Glasson, tell her don't drink any tea! Stay away from Mrs. Daniels! Matter of life or death! Explain when we get there. Ellingham.' I don't know what this all about but I figured I should find you and tell you."

Louisa looked at the cup in her hand and frowned. "But this isn't tea, it's hot chocolate. Is that OK to drink?"

"How should I know? I don't touch dairy. You shouldn't either, just to be sure. Anyway, I'm just the messenger. The doctor made it sound pretty serious."

"What about the biscuits?" Jago picked one up.

Wynnie made a face. "Probably full of sugar and gluten and empty calories. So no. That stuff'll kill you."

To be continued…

Note: God-botherer is an overzealous religious person. Journo is slang for journalist.