Chapter 6 – [1]
The more Mrs. Tishell thought about the possibility of Doctor Ellingham propositioning Ms. Williams to… peculiar sex, the more Sally convinced herself Louisa must be warned. It was in part Mrs. Tishell's sense of decorum that dictated such a course, but even more her perception that the good doctor was in trouble and needed to be rescued from himself, much as she herself had needed nine years earlier, when she had had her own psychotic episode. From Mrs. Tishell's point of view it was impossible that Martin would so proposition any woman unless he was not himself, thus clearly it was imperative to warn Louisa that the doctor must not be in his right mind. The problem was how to approach Louisa with such dire news.
Though Louisa did go to the pharmacy and casually conversed with Mrs. Tishell, one could not by any means call them friends. Thus broaching the subject would be difficult. But then another possibility occurred to Mrs. Tishell: revealing Martin's unusual mental state would be more easily done in Ruth Ellingham's presence. The old lady was always nice to Mrs. Tishell, and very level-headed, so that her presence was bound to inject a large measure of calm and sanity in any exchange with Louisa, preventing or mitigating any potential outbursts from the doctor's wife. Mrs. Tishell thus decided to invite both Ruth and Louisa to tea one afternoon after the closing of school. Both women accepted the invitation and were rather surprised to find each other at the same meeting in Mrs. Tishell's living room in front of a steaming pot of tea.
"Well Sally," said Ruth after they had poured the tea, "judging from the presence of both Louisa and myself, as well as the conspicuous absence of my nephew, I would venture to guess this is something about Martin."
"But Sally, didn't you say this was about Ms. Williams?" asked Louisa, immediately displeased that this would have anything to do with her husband.
"Well, ehm… you are both right… It has to do with Doctor Ellingham and… Ms. Williams." Mrs. Tishell said this with a rather embarrassed air, while pulling some lint from her cardigan.
Louisa stared at her, astounded: what in the world was Mrs. Tishell implying about Martin and that minx? But before she could express her disbelief, Ruth spoke, with one of her lopsided grins: "Sally, are you saying that you have heard some gossip about Martin and Ms. Williams? I have heard it too, and it's… quite amusing actually."
"No, oh no! I do not listen to gossip, especially about an upstanding citizen such as Doctor Ellingham!"
"So what are you saying then?" asked Louisa fiercely enough that Ruth immediately sent the younger woman a quelling look.
"I am saying that Ms. Williams herself came to the pharmacy and asked my counsel about the doctor."
"She asked your counsel? About Martin?" exclaimed Louisa who found this so preposterous she almost laughed. Again Ruth took control: "What sort of counsel Sally? About a prescription?"
"No, about Doctor Ellingham's behavior."
"What behavior?"
"His behavior toward her, Ms. Williams."
Now Louisa actually did laugh. "Oh Sally, you know Martin, he's a lot more likely to have scolded her than done anything inappropriate. It took him a couple of years before he made any timid advances to me, and then I had to give him more encouragement than any other man would have ever needed!"
"Ah, I always thought you encouraged him!"
"Sally," said Ruth a bit sternly now, looking Mrs. Tishell right in the eye, "we are not here to discuss that distant past, are we? What did Ms. Williams tell you exactly, what has Martin done, supposedly?"
"Ehm…" here Mrs. Tishell fell to a whisper that both Ruth and Louisa had a hard time hearing, "ahm… she said the doctor hinted at… inappropriate… sexual practices." The last two words came out very fast.
Ruth had her lopsided smile again, while Louisa was obviously beginning to fume at this whole situation.
"You know as well as I do Sally that that is extremely unlikely. That's not like Martin at all," said Louisa.
"I know!" almost screamed Sally, "That's why I'm telling you! He is not himself, he's out of his right mind, he must be having a psychotic episode!"
"Oh come on! You think I could not tell if my husband had gone bodmin all of a sudden?"
"That's just it, nobody could tell I was having a psychotic episode when I had it!"
"Well, I'm not so sure about that!" retorted Louisa.
"But Doctor Ellingham did entrust your baby to me, didn't he? So even he did not realize I was out of my right mind at the time."
Louisa froze, as the direct reference to the kidnapping was coming a little too close to home.
"Sally," said Ruth perfectly calm, "did it not occur to you that maybe Ms. Williams is delusional? That she interpreted something Martin said the wrong way? You know as well as anyone in this village that Martin can have some rather egregious verbal… malfunctions at times."
Mrs. Tishell stared at Ruth for a while and then said: "No, I did not think about it, you are right. I became so worried about Doctor Ellingham having a crisis of some sort that it did not occur to me Ms. Williams might be delusional. She seems very much in control."
"What does Ms. Williams claim that Martin said or did exactly?" asked Ruth.
"He keeps having Freudian slips, she says."
"Curiouser and curiouser," thought Ruth, like Alice in Wonderland, and then she asked: "Such as?"
"Like calling her… Cruella… all the time apparently."
Here Ruth was truly perplexed, as she could not think of any reason why or how Martin would come up with such an outlandish name if it wasn't some sort of Freudian slip. But only until she noticed that Louisa was laughing now, soundlessly for a few moments, and then rather sonorously.
"Well, it's not funny!" protested Sally.
Louisa kept on laughing, so much that she could not speak, and it took some time before she was able to say: "It's the children, they call Ms. Williams Cruella, after the evil lady character in the 101 Dalmatians cartoon. You know Martin can't keep patients' names straight for two minutes at a time. He probably thinks that's her real name."
"Ah, but she does not know about Martin's problem with names, and thinks Martin is consciously or unconsciously sending her certain hints," concluded Ruth, much amused. "Sally, it was good of you to worry about Martin's sanity, and thank you for telling us. But you can see it was all a misunderstanding now, can't you?"
"Are you sure Doctor Ellingham?"
"Positive."
"Absolutely," confirmed Louisa. "However, I think Martin's verbal clumsiness fed that minx's craving for him. She's been a flirt with him from the very first! I could kill her!"
"Oh Louisa, given that you are as sure as I am that Martin has no interest in this woman, let her be," commented Ruth.
"But... she's so stunningly good looking, so sophisticated, so self-assured, always in control of any discussion! She makes me feel… fat, stupid and incompetent!" Louisa said in a mix of anger and anguish.
Both Mrs. Tishell and Ruth stared at Louisa in wonder.
"Louisa… I never realized you could be made to feel so… insecure," said Ruth with a concerned look.
"Oh Ruth, usually I don't feel this way, but… I guess Ms. Williams reminds me that when I was young I aspired to be a professional woman, in control of some fantastic career… it didn't happen that way..."
"What did happen?" asked Ruth quite curious, as she had never really seen this side of Louisa, and she doubted even Martin knew this.
"When I was at uni… I realized I was not cut out for the sort of intense competition and pressure that such a career would involve. My thoughts kept coming back to Portwenn and… I always wanted children, a family. So I came back hoping that I could combine a good job with a family."
"And you have all that now, don't you?"
"Yes, a wonderful family and a job I love," admitted Louisa.
"So what are you worried about?" asked Ruth. "There are so many women who would like to be able to claim the same success… family women who could never have a career... and some highly successful professional women who either decided to forgo the family, or never had the opportunity."
The last sentence sounded charged with irony, and Louisa winced inwardly thinking that Ruth might have been referring to herself. But she said: "Do you mean Ms. Williams could… envy me?"
"She does not seem the type who wants children, actually," answered Ruth, "… but she does appear to covet your husband."
Louisa had a little smile at that, thinking of good old Martin, so totally committed to his family, so unquestionably hers. Yes, that was something wonderful Louisa had, and which Ms. Williams seemed far from ever possessing.
"Thank you, Ruth," said Louisa, "but if I see that minx flirt with Martin one more time, right in my face as she does, I don't think I'll be able to keep my cool, she so gets on my nerves!"
"Oh, she'll be gone in a little while and Martin will forget her in no time at all," commented Ruth.
"You can count on me Louisa," intervened Mrs. Tishell, "if that woman ever comes to me again speaking ill of the doctor, I will… I will put her in her place! She has no business making up such stories and disturbing the peace of such an upstanding citizen as Doctor Ellingham!"
"Hopefully there will be no need," concluded Ruth.
But Mrs. Tishell bit her lip, suddenly remembering the questionnaire she had mailed to Doctor Ellingham: what to do about that now?
Chapter 6 – [2]
Jasmine did not want to go to school after her misadventure with the teenage girls, and spent most of her time tending the sheep. Fortunately, however, her health was improving: as Martin had predicted, her ability to eat increased rapidly after she started taking a strong course of antibiotics. But though her body was better, her mind still needed to find a way to heal.
Mr. Rowe went to see the parents of all the girls who had been involved in the incident. Unsurprisingly, none of the parents had been informed. Some were more tolerant of foreigners than others, but even those who appeared indifferent to the plight of refugees had to admit that the girls' bullying of Jasmine had been frightening taken in the context of Jasmine's background. All in all Mr. Rowe met with a lot of apologies from the parents and promises that the girls would be reprimanded, and that they would apologize.
The promise of apologies, however, did not put Mr. and Mrs. Rowe's minds at rest. How many other children or even adults were there who might insult or bully Jasmine? Truth be told, the inhabitants of Portwenn were not used to having foreigners live among them, though they did see a lot of tourists in season. But the tourists were not part of the community, thus Jasmine posed an unusual problem for these parts.
Mr. Rowe thought about this issue a lot, but could not see a solution, until one day Mrs. Rowe ran into Portwenn Radio's DJ Melanie. With a few well-placed questions DJ Melanie was able to figure out what had happened to Jasmine outside the surgery, and suggested Mrs. Rowe come to the radio and talk about it. Mrs. Rowe was not the sort of person who would speak easily in public, and neither was Mr. Rowe, but he saw the opportunity to smooth things out for Jasmine and took it. He contacted DJ Melanie and made an appointment to make an appeal on live radio.
When the time came Mr. Rowe was quite nervous, but DJ Melanie sympathized enough with his cause that she really tried to put him at ease. She asked him some rather simple, direct questions through which he could describe Jasmine's background, and how she had come to be a new inhabitant of Portwenn. Then finally they were able to move to the point of the conversation, Mr. Rowe's appeal. By then he felt less self-conscious and was able to express his feelings on the matter clearly enough.
"The girls who attacked our Jasmine…" started Mr. Rowe, "they are just children, and children can be mean to each other, we all know that… But Jasmine has gone through a lot, she cannot even manage to speak anymore… and to attack her… it's like beating a wounded dog... A lot of people in the village remember our son Jonathan, his military funeral and his George Cross... Our son was an honorable man, he would have married Jasmine's mother if he had not been killed, he would have brought his wife and daughter here… You all know me and my wife… we just want a good future for our granddaughter Jasmine… please help us make it possible."
After this radio appeal the Rowes felt reassured, mainly because many people called them to express their sympathy. One of them was Bert Large, who came to visit one evening bringing sweets and flowers for Jasmine. Mrs. Rowe, who had never stopped thinking of Bert as a plumber, was surprised to see him arrive with such bounty. She did offer him tea, however, and Bert gladly sat down at the kitchen table for a chat.
"How is Jasmine coping?" asked Bert while sipping his tea.
"She is even more shy and scared than before," answered Mr. Rowe shaking his head sadly, "though she keeps busy tending the sheep. She explained with a drawing that her other grandfather had sheep, so she's used to them, she really loves them. I do hope we can keep them, for her sake as much as for ours."
"Why would you not keep the sheep?" asked Bert. "I thought they were a rare breed."
"They are, they are very valuable, but… you know, debts. Not very large debts, it's more of a cash flow problem, but I'd rather not sell land if I can help it. Didn't that old restaurant of yours go under because of debts Bert?"
"It sure did. I loved that restaurant, I was so sorry to see it go like that. If there's a man who understands the weight of debts, and the anxiety… That's me William, that's me." Then Bert was silent for a few moments and thought about his plan to support small business in Portwenn. He had not considered rare sheep and farming, but why not? "You know William," said Bert, "I have decided to start a fund to help small business in Portwenn. I don't want other villagers to have to go bankrupt like I did. So, would you like to be the first beneficiary of the Albert Large & Son Small Business Venture Fund?"
"What?" asked Mr. Rowe, rather stunned.
"Do you want a loan?" asked Bert rather directly.
"Do you mean that?"
"Yes."
"What would the interest be?"
"No interest."
"No interest?"
"Right, no interest."
"Collateral?"
"No collateral."
"No interest and no collateral? Who are you Bert, Father Christmas?"
Bert smiled. "You see William… now that I have money I really don't know what to do with it, and I don't seem to have anything much to be about. It makes me feel… well, bored and useless. So a friend suggested I help of Portwenn's small businesses. And here I am, helping you, if you like."
Mr. Rowe was staring at Bert still incredulous, while Mrs. Rowe was shaking her head, smiling.
"William," she said, "you still think God has nothing to do with it?"
Mr. Rowe looked at his wife and shrugged: "Our farm is saved, I think, the sheep too. You thank the Lord, if you like, I'll be thanking Bert."
In the following days the Rowes thought Jasmine would finally be able to go back to school, but Jasmine kept running to the sheep whenever her grandfather was about to drive her to school. Mrs. Rowe then called the school. Louisa was concerned enough about Jasmine that she proposed to bring Joanie and James to the Rowe farm the next morning to see if they could convince Jasmine to come back to school.
Thus it was more than a week after the incident that, with some energetic help from Martin, Louisa and the children were able to get ready much earlier in the morning than usual, and drive to the Rowe farm to bring Jasmine to school with them, if she would come. James and Joanie jumped out of the car and went into the house, following Mrs. Rowe who had come out to meet them.
"Hello Jasmine," said brother and sister at the same time. Jasmine looked up from her breakfast and her eyes widened when she saw them. Her first instinct was flight, but she had missed her new friends and decided to stay. In fact she decided to be hospitable and gestured to the food.
"Thank you Jasmine," said Joanie, "but we've had breakfast. Are you coming to school with us? We can draw pictures, you can learn new words."
Jasmine understood well enough that this was an invitation to go to school. She shook her head to say no. Joanie took her hand and smiled warmly.
"Come on Jasmine, come with us," Joanie invited again, with such irresistible natural charm and warmth that Jasmine wavered. But it was really James who convinced her. James did not say anything. He was just lazily sitting on a chair chewing a piece of the Rowes' freshly baked bread. He looked at Jasmine and gave her a little smirk and a wave, nothing more. She looked at him intently, at the scratches still visible on his face, at his knuckles, still red. She saw simple, spontaneous courage that did not require the asking of any questions before naturally doing the right thing. Jasmine understood that, she had seen it many times in her perilous journey here, strangers taking chances for each other, helping each other. Why should the stupidity and ignorance of a group of girls matter more than that basic human decency? Jasmine understood then that hiding at home was to put the pack of girls ahead of her friends, ahead of James' simple courage and his red knuckles, and to let those stupid girls win. She suddenly smiled broadly at James and Joanie, ran to get her jacket and bag and made a sign to go. They all looked at each other with a great sense of relief, especially Mrs. Rowe, who caressed Joanie's head and said a wordless thank you. That day at school Jasmine drew a picture of a sunny, peaceful Portwenn, with the surgery very visible, no sheep, and some people walking by. It was rather like the pictures of Portwenn that local children often drew.
Chapter 6 – [3]
Morwenna knocked on the consulting room door, poked her head in and told Martin that Doctor Jeffreys was calling. Martin asked his patient to wait outside for a few minutes and took the call.
"Ellingham."
"Ellingham, I've got news for you."
"Go ahead Jeffreys."
"My two patients, the two who missed their appointments, they were admitted to Lahm's trial. Both of them were admitted in the same manner as your patient, very quickly; both of them are suffering very bad side effects as well."
"So, we were right to worry," commented Martin.
"Well, I also discovered another new Lahm patient who had briefly experienced a remission of several of his symptoms. Apparently he regained sensation and some slight movement in his legs. This fourth patient's gains were short-lived though, he relapsed again and is now suffering the bad side effects too."
"Four out of four then who are not profiting, only suffering terribly from this treatment. Who knows how many more."
"So far I have not been able to find others who joined the trial this recently and this fast. Now what's odd is that many more than these four have been part of Lahm's trial for a couple of years, and as far as I know, the larger group has shown no positive results, but also no bad side effects."
"That sounds like Lahm has suddenly and very quickly decided to change something," said Martin, "and that something must be either the composition of the drug or, more likely, just the dosage."
"I thought about that too. He must have increased the dosage dramatically, that's the only explanation I can think of. Why?" asked Jeffreys.
"Because he was not getting results, so he just increased the dosage."
"And he wanted patients with primary or secondary-progressive MS in order to have a quick proof of the effectiveness of the drug," said Jeffreys. "With the relapsing-remitting sort you cannot be sure you are not dealing with a natural remission instead of the effect of any given drug, thus any trial must go on for years."
"But what he is doing must be outside the parameters of the trial as approved by the pharmaceutical company that is financing him, and the NHS," objected Martin.
"Well Ellingham, you know as well as I do that a trial is generally approved in a specific format and it's not the case that one doctor can suddenly go out on a limb and change everything, without having these changes approved by a board or committee."
"He must have desperately hoped that the larger dosage would produce sudden miraculous results so the company would then close an eye on how he got there," said Martin with anger in his voice. "Amazing. I will explain to my patient and his family what we suspect, and counsel that he immediately stop the treatment. You can do the same with your patients Jeffreys… but we need to denounce this of course. If it is as we think, it is so deeply unethical that Lahm should be kicked out of the medical profession."
"Truly. You have various vials still, don't you, Ellingham?"
"Yes. I will alert the NHS authorities and turn the vials over to them, and they can proceed as the law requires."
"Good. You have made an important discovery, Ellingham. Lahm took a huge chance involving a GP he did not know into this."
"Oh, he thinks I am a small village doctor who doesn't know much beyond prescribing some antibiotics."
"Little does he know. I have to go Ellingham, but I am ready to talk to the NHS as well. Do let me know what happens."
Martin had Morwenna rearrange appointments so that both Martin and Mrs. Holmes could be with Arthur at lunch time. As he had expected Arthur was no better. He was still in bed, feverish, full of aches and pains, quite confused as to what day it was or exactly where he was. His short memory was gone altogether as he believed he was still married and a barrister in London. Fortunately either O'Malley or other nurses were with him all the time, but it was obviously a very difficult situation for those around Arthur, and quite unbearable for Arthur himself.
Martin took Beth aside and told her what he and doctor Jeffreys had discovered, and he counseled stopping the treatment immediately. Beth was horrified and concurred immediately. Under normal circumstances she would not have dared to countermand Arthur's express wish to go through with the treatment even if there were serious side effects. However, she had to agree with Martin that at the moment Arthur was unable to decide for himself on the basis of this new evidence.
"I am not sure how long it will take for Arthur to get back to where he was before. I hope not long, but there is really no way to tell," said Martin.
Beth shook her head and said: "Is Lahm going to be punished for this?"
"If found guilty, yes. I am glad we have discovered it as quickly as we did."
"Yes, thank you Martin. Yet one more job well done, doctor. I don't know where this village would be without you."
"A lot sicker," replied Martin matter-of-factly. Beth smiled: Martin never changed, and why should he?
Chapter 6 – [4]
The stunning Ms. Williams, wearing low-heel shoes and her elegant black leather pantsuit, walked with only a slight limp into Doc Martin's reception room. She walked straight to Morwenna's desk and said: "I'd like to see Dr. Ellingham, please."
Morwenna had not met Ms. Williams but knew very well who she was.
"You do not have an appointment," stated Morwenna. "Is it an emergency?"
"Doctor Ellingham medicated my knee and hand when I fell on the beach a while ago, but I'm afraid I recently re-injured my knee," said Ms. Williams.
"OK…Well, when his next patient comes out I'll tell the doc you are here, Miss Williams. Take a seat please."
Ms. Williams looked around with a certain disdain: all the patients sitting in the reception room had the air of old rheumy-eyed farmers or whining children. There was nowhere to sit without either having to converse about pigs or sheep, or without being pawed by a sick child. Wanting to avoid or at least postpone such discomfort as long as possible, Ms. Williams instead sat on the edge of Morwenna's desk and asked, affecting a nonchalant air: "So, have you worked here long?"
"Almost ten years."
"That long… So you must know the doctor quite well? He really is more like a professional London man than a country doctor."
"That he is, the doc," said Morwenna affectionately. "But he's been here long enough that he's become almost a local you could say."
"Ah, no. He does not seem a local at all. I wonder why he stays here."
"His wife is local, Head Teacher at the primary school. It would not make much sense for him to move, would it?"
"Right… But I'm just surprised a brilliant doctor such as he has not sought a better position in a larger city."
"Can't help you with that, doc's always been very private. But we're glad he's our doc."
Having previously ascertained the general love of gossip in the village, Ms. Williams lowered her voice, and with a conspiratorial air asked: "But… the doctor plays the field a little, doesn't he?"
Morwenna was startled: what was this… rather foreign woman about? "No, not the doc!" she said very decisively.
Ms. Williams watched Morwenna, and her customarily garish attire, and thought: "I guess not with someone like you." After all, the doctor's wife was herself rather a refined beauty. He must go for the truly beautiful, she thought, and as she knew to be stunning herself, she felt rather reassured. Her flirting with him had come very naturally to her. She was always surrounded by expensively dressed, powerful men of business, and affairs for them were not unusual, whether they were married or not, so she was used to being admired and courted, and to having her fun. While the doctor had never openly admired her, he had dropped that Cruella hint often enough… and he'd totally hit his mark with that choice of name, he must be rather adroit at identifying the right sort of woman, she concluded. Time to act.
Right then the consulting room door opened and an old lady walked out. Martin had come to the door and Morwenna went towards him and said: "Miss Williams here says she has problems with her knee?..."
Martin saw the woman in question, sighed and said: "If she still has problems with her knee, yes… Fine, come in for a moment then."
Ms. Williams did.
"Lie down," said Martin while putting away some patient's notes, "let's see it."
As Ms. Williams' pants were very tight, however, the hem would not roll up sufficiently to expose her knee. She decided to roll them down instead, without any prompting from Martin. So when he turned around he was suddenly confronted by long naked legs and a lacy pair of underwear. She had pulled down her pants and stretched out so fast that he did not have the time to direct his eyes to her knee without first taking in her entire lower body. Though Martin was totally devoted to his wife, and very much the monogamous type, he was not blind. The sight of those shapely legs did cause him to blush and avert his eyes quickly to the knee in question. He rushed to put on gloves, which would allow him to keep his distance for a few moments and then not to touch her directly.
"Ahm… yes," he said, examining the knee, "There definitely still is swelling here, but nothing worse. You must have re-injured it. You should keep the leg elevated as much as possible and apply some ice, it will take a little more time for it to get back to normal. Nothing more we can do. That will be all." Martin said all this in his most professional tone. She did not like the tone, and even less the use of the gloves.
"So doctor… you are being very professional today."
He looked at her puzzled: "Of course, I'm always professional. And pull up your pants."
"Professional… even when you call your female patients Cruella?"
"What?"
"Well you have called me Cruella several times…"
"Why, isn't that your name?"
"If you want it to be," she said seductively, making a very big show of slowly pulling up her tight pants.
"What is that supposed to mean?" huffed Martin, turning around and beginning to lose his patience now. "Either it's your name or it isn't!" And he regretted he really did not have any patient's notes to go by.
"Are we playing hard to get now?" asked Ms. Williams. "I'm not staying in the village long enough for that you know. We're alone now, finally, no need to pretend." And in so saying she went right up to Martin, who was standing at his desk, raised an elegantly manicured hand, grabbed his chin and tried to kiss him.
Martin jumped. Suddenly it dawned on him: she was more than just flirting, she was acting on it! Panic bells went off in his head.
"Cruella, no!" he yelled retreating.
"Ah, there's the Cruella again, and don't you deny it. That what you like, you big, big boy?" she said advancing on him, while he retreated and was almost with his back to the wall. "You want me to catch you, tie you up? Not in this room though. Come to my hotel, won't you?"
"Get back!" he said, but as he kept retreating he bumped into the wall, rather red in the face. No place to go. She was on him in no time, her body quickly pressed against his, while he was frantically thinking of a way to push her off without hurting her. But then she did something that totally shocked him: she reached behind him and pinched his bum very hard saying, with her face so close to his that he felt her minty breath almost on his lips: "Does that hurt enough, you naughty boy?" It did. He howled: "OUCH! You crazy woman, that HURT!" He finally grabbed her wrists forcefully enough to stop her without harming her. Thinking that the doctor had finally started playing the game in earnest, she smiled wickedly, and whispered: "Yes, show me your strength now, go on."
Now though it was his turn to do what she did not expect: he called for rescue.
"MORWENNA! COME HERE! NOW! MORWENNAAA!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs, which startled Ms. Williams and had Morwenna running in with the fire extinguisher thinking that the consulting room must be on fire.
"Escort… her out," Martin was barely able to say, he was so mortified.
Ms. Williams was now the puzzled one, but she assumed a neutral air very quickly and walked out equally quickly, swollen knee notwithstanding, and mildly slammed the door.
"Doc, what did you say to her?"
"Nothing! Not a thing! I was completely professional, but Cruella…"
"Who?"
"Cruella, her…"
"Nigella, doc."
"Nigella, whatever…"
"You called her Cruella?" asked Morwenna in an irresistible guffaw.
"I, no… yes, but it was just a mistake… What on Earth was she thinking?!"
"I don't know, you tell me doc, it sounded like the house was on fire!"
"She wanted… "and he was so red in the face and obviously embarrassed that Morwenna figured it out and could not help laughing even more.
"Ah, she had asked whether you play the field. I guess she just found out that you don't. Blimey, what gall, here in your consulting room!"
"Morwenna, I did not encourage her for a moment!"
"Oh doc, I know. But Louisa will kill her."
"Oh dear, Louisa!" he shook his head disconsolately: how could he explain Cruella's behaviour to Louisa?
Later that night Martin felt he could not wait, he had to tell Louisa what had happened. He considered whether he would be breaching a patient's confidence, as this could after all be a case of erotomania. However, he concluded that, as Morwenna already knew, all of Portwenn would shortly know as well. He could not let his wife be caught off guard. But he did not really know how to broach the subject. Louisa was still sitting at her desk in their bedroom, finishing some paperwork, while he was already in bed supposedly reading, but really trying to talk. Finally he said: "Louisa?"
"Yes?"
"The woman from King's Mart came back today, about her knee."
"Ah, Ms. Williams again! Was her knee that bad?"
"No, not really," he sighed sadly.
"So why did she come then?"
"Ahh… I think… well she… somehow I called her Cruella, and she misunderstood…"
"So you do call her Cruella?" As she had at Mrs. Tishell's, Louisa found this quite funny, and laughed.
"It was a mistake, I think the children call her that for some reason… But she thought that was…ehm… an allusion to… ehm… sexual practices…"
"What?" exclaimed Louisa, "so she really does think you are suggesting kinky sex?" Part of her was incensed at Ms. Williams, and another part wanted to laugh out loud again, it was so preposterous.
"Of course I wasn't! I was just going to check her knee… she had her pants off in no time…"
"Pants off?" Now Louisa did not feel like laughing anymore.
"Yeah, she just… took them off… I examined her knee and that was it… then she started coming after me… Well, it might be erotomania…"
"Erotomania! Ah! I don't believe that for a second! She's a flirt, that one! How'd she come after you?"
"Just came close, grabbed my chin… asked if I liked to be tied up…"
"The impudent bitch!"
"Then she… ehm… pinched my bottom…"
"She pinched your bum?! In all these years even I have never done that…" Louisa's eyes were laughing now, though she was trying to keep a straight face.
"LOUISA! That really hurt! I had to call Morwenna."
"I bet Morwenna got herself a big laugh."
"Yes."
"Oh Martin! The woman must be used to getting her way with any number of men, she sure has the looks and opportunities for it."
"I don't find her attractive."
"No?!"
"Not really, no, she's so… aggressive."
"Oh dear, she scared you, didn't she?"
"…Yeah…" replied Martin sheepishly.
Louisa giggled, really amused despite her irritation with Ms. Williams. "Poor Martin. You ought to put a sign on your door: "No erotomania treatments here." Well, no local women would ever come after you, so we'll have to watch out for those out-of-town girls, won't we?"
"But Louisa… I only called her Cruella, and was being totally professional, why did she come after me like that? It's not as if I behaved like… some womanizer."
"Oh Martin, but you are attractive to women, and doubly so because you don't even know it."
"I'm not!"
"Yes," she confirmed and then half-whispered: "... and you do have a rather nice bum." He heard her.
"Oh, Louisa!… I'll just finish my article," concluded Martin burying his face in his journal with a deep blush.
Chapter 6 – [5]
It was an unusual Saturday afternoon. James sat at the kitchen table by himself, rather distractedly playing with his Lego pieces. He was not entertained. Generally on the Saturdays when mum decided she would have a "girls' bonding" somewhere with Joanie, Martin and James used that time for an equivalent "boys' bonding." But not today. Louisa and Joanie had left mid-morning for Truro, and James was supposed to amuse himself for a short while just until Martin was done with his appointments. Then the surgery would close and the two Ellingham men could choose an activity together. But something had gone very wrong during surgery.
A man had come into the surgery and quarreled fiercely with the doctor. They had yelled at each other very loudly, and it had apparently ended with Martin practically kicking the younger man out of the surgery. Both James and Morwenna had been rather startled. Though the doc always lost his patience with people and yelled at them for not taking their medicine or making themselves sick, he really never resorted to physical violence. Thus neither Morwenna nor James had ever seen the doc grab someone by the collar and march him out the door, but that's exactly what Martin had done. After that it was lunchtime, and under normal circumstances Martin would have prepared some lunch for the two of them. But no. Incredibly Martin instructed Morwenna and James to go eat some fish and chips at the pub, while he, Martin, would not budge from the surgery and make some very important telephone calls. Now Morwenna had left, just as puzzled as James as to the doc's behavior, and James sat in the kitchen with his Lego trying to puzzle out his dad. What had really happened with that man this morning? What had the man said or done to make dad so angry? Why was it that dad did not want to leave the surgery?
That's when the phone rang and, since all the doors were now open, James heard his father say:
"Ellingham!... Where?... Yes I know the farm you mean. Is she unconscious? ….But she's breathing?...How much blood from her head?... Oh, this is really the worst time!... Yes of course I'll come, you idiot, do you expect me to let someone die?" and he slammed down the receiver. After a few moments James heard his father say: "Penhale! You need to get to the surgery IMMEDIATELY. I have an emergency, but the surgery needs guarding. We'll be locking all doors and windows, but you must guard the surgery until I return. James will be at the house with you... Yes, I'll explain later… Get here NOW Penhale, NOW!... Right!"
A few moments later Martin appeared in the kitchen with his bag and said: "James, I have an emergency. Penhale will be here in a couple of minutes. While he runs over here we lock the back door and all windows."
"But dad… what's happening? I don't understand… and I don't like it."
"Sorry James, you are right, but there is no time now. I promise to explain later. Penhale is rushing over here, don't be afraid."
Barely two minutes passed and Penhale arrived, out of breath from running fast uphill. Martin wasted no time and said while rushing into his car: "Lock the front door too now, and don't let anyone in. I'll be back as soon as I can." And he drove off to his emergency. No more than five minutes had passed since the emergency call had arrived.
More perplexed than ever James let in Penhale and locked the front door.
"So what's going on, James?" asked Penhale, "What crime are we dealing with today?"
"I don't know, Joe. Dad is acting very odd today, he even kicked a man out."
"Really? Must have been someone particularly idiotic."
"Maybe, but… He was really angry with the man, and has explained… well, nothing really. All I know is we can't let anyone in."
"Can you let anyone out?"
"Like who? There's just the two of us Joe, and we can't leave, we've got to guard the house till dad gets back."
"What are we guarding?"
"I wish I knew. I don't see anything different. Do you?" asked James.
"No, but we should check the premises. Thoroughly."
"If you like… But I live here, and I don't see anything different. Still, we could look for clues."
"Exactly. After you."
So they began to inspect the surgery, looking for something that would explain the doctor's odd behaviour. After looking all over and not finding anything suspect, both James and Penhale were rather bored, James about to offer Penhale to play some game together.
"It must be something medical," concluded James, "There was nothing strange about dad this morning before he started seeing his patients."
They were now sitting quietly in the living room. Penhale was about to answer when they heard a muffled sound of glass breaking coming from the direction of the consulting room. They both jumped up from the couch, instinctively careful not to make any noise.
"Stay here," whispered Penhale.
"We need to call for help," James whispered back.
"I'm the police. Who else would you call?"
"Dad of course."
"Yes. You call him, I catch the perp."
"Can't go to the reception room. Mobile?"
Penhale hesitated briefly, then took out his mobile: "That's my mobile, not business. Don't mess it up."
"OK."
Penhale then started tip-toeing toward the consulting room as quietly as possible, looking very much like a hound sniffing for his prey. James considered he'd better send his father a text message, which would be quiet, and quickly silenced Penhale's mobile. He wrote: "Sounds like someone breaking into consulting room. Joe is checking." There was no immediate answer, so James followed Penhale very quietly.
The constable was paralyzed in the hall, not daring to open the consulting room door. Penhale was scared, yet he had a strong feeling he could not let down the doc and James. James looked at him quizzically with an expression that clearly said: "What are you waiting for, Joe?" As James was a little reckless, he almost opened the consulting room door himself. But Penhale took a deep breath, hoisted his heavy belt a little higher, tilted his head in the direction of the kitchen looking at James to make him retreat, and charged into the consulting room. Retreat wasn't James' thing though. James followed, brandishing Penhale's mobile as a camera with which he started filming Penhale's charge.
The consulting room was the same as ever other than for a man who appeared to be moving something from the fridge to a medical sort of bag. The windowpane was broken. The man looked up and froze. James recognized immediately the man whom his father had kicked out earlier.
"Burglar!" yelled Penhale, "you are under arrest!"
The man, startled though he was, was quick-witted. He must have finished taking what he wanted because he quickly grabbed his bag, shoved Penhale aside and made a dash for the door. James though was quick to stick his foot out to trip the man. The man didn't quite fall, but stumbled and this gave Penhale the time to catch him by the arm and stop him. The man tried to pull away, but Penhale held fast, and they were soon having a scuffle. James thought he had filmed enough for the moment. He put the mobile in his pocket and walked a bit around the two fighting men, who were now rolling on the floor, until he could grab Penhale's handcuffs. Then, as he had no access to the intruder's wrists, he put one handcuff around the man's ankle, and as soon as he could, he put the other one around the nearest big object, which was one leg of Martin's big desk. Then James retreated, satisfied: the intruder could not run anywhere now. He started filming again. After some more scuffling the two men realized something peculiar had happened to the burglar's ability to move and they stopped, both rather out of breath.
"I said you're under arrest!" yelled Penhale again. Right then the front door slammed and an agitated Martin rushed into the consulting room.
"Dad! There's your burglar!"
"Lahm! You… you broke in here! It was you, you made up a bogus emergency at that farm!"
Lahm simply sent a venomous look, but did not say anything. Desperate times call for desperate measures, but here clearly he had destroyed his career.
"Penhale, this man was trying to steal some vials of medicine, and he broke in."
"Yes, he is under arrest!" said Penhale triumphantly.
"And I've got it all on video!" exclaimed James cheerfully: now there was evidence, even Sherlock Holmes could not have asked for more!
"Get up, you!" said Penhale.
"I can't, can I?" said Lahm indicating his ankle.
"Right," answered Penhale and leaned down to release the ankle so he could arrest the man properly. However, no sooner had he released Lahm that the man took everyone by surprise. He grabbed the bag with the vials which was still on the floor and made a mad dash out the door and into the street.
Martin, James and Penhale were stunned by this daring and very fast escape, but immediately began to give chase. There began a race that started with three after one, and practically ended with the whole village after one.
Lahm ran down towards the village with his three pursuers after him, with Penhale yelling: "Everyone, catch that thief, citizen arrest, catch him," and Martin booming: "Out of the way!" and James running after his dad thinking this had suddenly turned into the most fun afternoon ever.
Up little streets went Lahm, then down again, turning right, turning left, running uphill, running downhill, with an ever growing group of men running after him. Lahm must have been running for sport, thought Martin, as he was fast and kept going and going.
Then Martin put order in the chase: he directed the pursuers to split in different directions, and instructed James to send him Lahm's picture from Penhale's mobile, which James was still holding. James quickly saved a shot from the video he had made, clearly showing Lahm's dismayed face, wrote "WANTED!" underneath, and sent it to his dad's mobile. Martin uploaded the picture to the surgery's website, normally used for health related announcements, information and appointments, so that all the pursuers could see it or download it to their own mobiles. Lahm was indeed a wanted man as in no time he had seemingly all of Portwenn's able-bodied men on alert and looking for him.
After some more running around the village they finally spotted the fugitive trying to reach a cliff. Martin and James were in the group that found Lahm, and for a moment Martin thought the ruined neurologist might try to jump off the cliff, but no. Obviously he wanted to throw the incriminating vials into the ocean, because without the vials there would be no immediate proof of his medical misconduct.
Martin tried to make a mad dash towards Lahm, but he had been running for some time, and though in good shape he was older than Lahm and out of breath by now. However James, like most children, was able to run a considerable amount of time without tiring, and as he was totally exhilarated by this adventure he was still very full of energy. James then ran past his father and dove for the medical bag with the vials. He caught the bag in the air as it was being flung over the cliff, and as a consequence he flew off the cliff himself clutching the bag with one hand.
Martin watched in horror as his son disappeared over the cliff. "JAMES!" he screamed in shock, feeling as if he had been administered a heavy body blow, though momentum and desperation brought him to the edge, to look down, where to his enormous relief he saw James holding on to the cliff with one hand, clutching a vial in the other hand. One big, burly fisherman did not think of it twice, he quickly scrambled down the cliff and grabbed James' wrist, while holding on to the rock wall with his other hand. Martin sighed in temporary relief, while realizing immediately thereafter that this situation was only slightly better than a minute earlier, as both the fisherman and James where hanging onto the cliff very precariously. But he had underestimated the men around him. All, except one who was holding Lahm, quickly made a live chain of men, holding each other by the arms, and they hoisted James up quickly as he was very light, and then helped the burly fisherman scramble up too, right after James.
Martin clutched his very scratched son to his chest and actually burst into tears. "James, oh James! Never, ever, ever do that again!" He was holding James so tight that James could barely breathe.
The burly fisherman approached, stretching his sore arms and said: "He's safe doc, we got him."
"Thank you," said Martin, trying to wipe off his tears, "you saved my son's life… I do know you from surgery, but…"
"I'm John Watt ."
"Right, Mr. Watt, thank you, if…"
"Doc, no problem, for you and your family, this and more. I know you don't remember, but you saved my mum's life five years ago. No problem at all," and he patted James on the head: "You lad, be more careful."
"Sorry Mr. Watt," said James rather contrite, "but I got a vial dad. The rest flew down."
All the men were now contemplating Martin, who was having a difficult time regaining his composure. While the embarrassed doctor thought they probably found him weak to be crying like that, the men were actually appreciating the fact that, as some had suspected, the cantankerous doctor actually did have a heart, and they liked him better for it. Only Lahm, whom they were holding tight, had a contemptuous look on his face. Martin ignored him, and was about to say they should call Penhale to make an arrest, just to change the subject, when another man said: "You need not be embarrassed doc. It was your own son hanging out there, so it's OK. And John here is right, we're all happy to help the Ellinghams. We all owe you. You diagnosed my wife's cancer early, and she's alive and well now, all thanks to you."
"You yelled at me for years to change my diet," said another, "like a right tosser doc, but now I weigh two stones less, my pressure is under control, I feel so much better, and can even get it on with the wife again."
"My mum got the wrong diagnosis in Truro, remember doc? They were going to operate for no reason at all, but you set them straight doc," said one of the younger men, "I'll never forget how you pushed that surgeon in Truro with his back to the wall and yelled: "You moron, you'll kill her!"
Another man cleared his voice and said: "You screamed at me too for not bringing my daughter to see you sooner, doc, when she kept having "accidents," and you figured out they were bullying her at school. My poor baby…she was even cutting her own flesh, because she hated herself so much... You figured it all out, you sent us to the specialist in Truro. Now she's fine. If John hadn't gone down the cliff first, I would have, doc."
Martin was stunned. They were not thinking he was weak and ridiculous, they were thanking him. He felt not just relieved, but very, very surprised and grateful. He could only nod though and mutter: "I was just doing my job, nothing more."
They shrugged, with a knowing air, as definitely the doc "just doing his job" was darn fantastic, and they let him go, just as Penhale arrived ready to make his arrest. The constable spontaneously exclaimed: "Ah, the dynamic duo has done it again!" but was about to retract that statement when he saw James raising three fingers and winking at him, and then he heard a very uncharacteristically subdued Martin say: "Yes, thanks for your help, Penhale."
"Bert was wrong!" thought Penhale happily, "We are a dynamic duo, or trio!" and, as he arrested Lahm, he had the most idiotic, happy smile on his face.