One Friday, Martin invited Louisa to The Centre. She had taken the train up to London the evening before and was receptive to whatever he had planned.

On the way, he stopped at his office to collect some documents. This was Louisa's first visit to the hospital although she had been to its medical school for James' s graduation. She held Martin's hand to keep up with his brisk pace as he briefly acknowledged greetings from colleagues and stared back at the junior staff and other curious hospital personnel who seemed to be everywhere as we walked down long and winding corridors. The great Martin Ellingham was in the house and with a beauty on his arm. Dressed simply in a red jumper, jeans, flats and with her ubiquitous ponytail swishing from side to side as walked, Louisa was a knockout.

Mrs. Green took to Louisa immediately and told Martin so in no uncertain terms

"Louisa is lovely. I hope you are not going to take forever to make a decent woman of her. Remember, you also have James to think about."

"Mrs. Green, please." Martin looked as if he wanted to strangle her.

"It's alright Mrs. Green. We're getting married soon," Louisa offered. She was enjoying the interaction between Martin and Mrs. Green and stifled a laugh at the next words from Mrs. Green.

"At your age, and for a man of your standing, you must set an example."

"What ...," he began irritably, thought better of it as he wanted to avoid a discussion about his private life and ushered Louisa into his inner office.

"Louisa, please make yourself comfortable. I won't be long."

His office was large as befitted his position but sparse as appropriate for his disposition. Louisa sank into a comfortable sofa in his seating area, and stretched out her legs.

"Tired?" Martin was all concern. "We can stop for tea or something on the way to The Centre."

"No, it's just a lot of walking on hard pavement. The marble floors here are lovely but hard on my feet, even though I'm wearing walking shoes."

"You haven't starting walking yet," he promised with a grin. "You'll walk your legs off at The Centre."

While Martin printed a few documents, she looked around curiously, hoping that his office might yield more insight into the loving, warm but enigmatic man she was soon to marry. The furnishing were modern, glass and leather, yet comfortable. There were a couple of paintings, a long shelf of what looked like a display of high-tech miniature surgical instruments, a ceiling-high wall of neatly shelved books, journals and electronic storage media and two gleaming antique clocks.

A photograph of James in his first school uniform caught her eyes. He looked so cute in short trousers. Hard to imagine that he was now taller than his dad. She walked over and picked it up with a smile.

"I don't remember this one. You kept it after all these years?"

"I kept everything you have ever sent me of James," he said quietly, looking up at her.

"And here's the one Chris took at the graduation." Chris had taken a photography of Martin, Louisa and James, and given each of them a framed copy as his graduation gift.

"We look so happy and you're so sentimental for keeping it here."

He looked up again and smiled. "I like seeing my family in happy times although this photograph comes at a price. I have had to do a lot of explaining about you. You're quite the mystery woman around here, you know, although not after today, I'm sure."

He got up from his chair indicating that it was time for them to leave when Louisa had a brilliant idea.

"Hold it there," she said, as she eased him out of the way, sat on his desk facing him, drew him into her and wrapped her legs around him.

"Louisa, you wouldn't be so crazy would you.? This is a hospital, my office and Mrs. Green is right outside."

"Why not? I locked the door behind me." I enjoyed the look of horror on his face and wrapped my legs even tighter as I begin playing with his hair, then pulled him down to me for a long kiss.

"Louisa! Do you have to be always on?" he groaned. I saw from his eyes that my actions were having their desired effect and slapped his butt playfully.

"Never heard you complain before."

"This is my office Louisa. We're out in public. It's neither the time nor the place," he protested feebly.

"Makes it even better. Come on, live a little dangerously."

I moved my hands to his hips and pulled him in some more and ran my tongue along his lips.

"Louisa." Again that weak voice.

"It won't take long," I said as I pretended to plead with him and quickly stuck my hand down his trousers, moving it suggestively.

He grabbed my hand out of harm's way, pulled away from me and beseeched me with his eyes to behave.

He had suffered enough I thought. Smiling kindly, I patted his head.

"Only playing with you Martin. Girls just want to have fun."

"What does that mean?" he asked suspiciously.

"It's the title of a Cyndi Lauper's hit song that I have always liked."

"I see," is all he said as he helped me off the desk, pressed his hair back in place, straightened his trousers and dragged me towards the door, all in one seamless movement.

Mrs. Green was very kind because she must have noticed our flushed faces.

All she said with a twinkle was, "Have a good time, Louisa. And you too, Mr. Ellingham."

As Martin was about to close the door behind us, she called him back.

"What?" he asked impatiently.

"You had a visitor while you were in your office. She left a note for you."

Martin took the note, read it quickly, then threw it into Mrs. Green's dustbin, but not before I saw the name Dr. Margaret something or the other.

We took the lift two floors down that opened into a foyer. As we were almost out of the building, I saw Viola coming towards us.

She kissed Martin and myself on our cheek.

"Louisa, welcome to our humble abode. This is where we spend most of our waking hours."

Then she turned to Martin. "What are you doing here? Giving Louisa the tour?"

"No. I'm trying to leave to go to The Centre." He answered brusquely.

"It's okay Viola, it's not you. Martin had an unfortunate delay in his office." I told her mischievously.

Looking from mine to Martin's red face, she said with a grin that she was trying unsuccessfully to hide, "Very nice, Louisa. The desk or the sofa?"

"Unfortunately, none. I was told it was neither the time nor place."

"Louisa!" He sounded strangled now.

"Hmm, we'll have to come up with a better idea the next ..."

Martin cut Viola short, "There will be no next time. We've got to go," took my hand firmly in his and marched off with me.

I looked back and saw Viola grinning from ear to ear and waved back at her.

Martin wasn't amused.

After a block or two, as a form of apology, I think, he said, "Louisa, you have to be careful. Viola is my friend, I trust her. This place is a hotbed of gossip, worse than the village if that is even possible."

After that I kept quiet, and held his hand trying to keep up with him until he slowed his pace and was back to his usual self.

We slipped down an alley, a shortcut Martin said, that landed us in front of a three-level building with the words Science is Cool emblazoned in steel on its industrial chic, bare concrete facade. I was impressed. The guard greeted Martin with a handshake and waved us through the security check point. As we entered a huge foyer, I saw an almost ceiling height replica of an antique grandfather's clock and was immediately intrigued.

"What is an old grandfather clock doing here in a science centre?"

"Louisa, the security camera just caught you stopping to ask that question. That's the intention. The minute you step in here we want you to stop, think and ask. Over the years, we have reviewed those pictures, and most people do exactly what you did."

"But why? Surely the young people who come here are more involved with digital and electronic technology, as well as scientific advances, to be interested in a grandfather clock. This is such an old technology, an 18th century invention, I believe."

"Good point. And how do you know so much about grandfather clocks?"

"If you remember, I was a teacher before I became a headmistress. Teaching students to read the clock is one of the ways we introduce them to numbers and basic math."

"Oh. Although the grandfather clock is old, it still does the job. It is the bridge to the new technologies. It reminds them about the passage of time, highlights the time we spend with them, questions how they spend their time, and I could go on."

"I'm doubly impressed," was all I could say.

Who knew that a clock held so many symbolic meanings. James had grown up curious about clocks and for his 10th birthday, I had given him a working grandfather clock. He had pulled it apart and put it back more times than I could count. Knowing that Martin was good at fixing and restoring old clocks, it hadn't bothered me. Chip of the old block, I used to think.

"Many of the teenager's first visit to The Centre is to see the clock. They know this museum as the one with the grandfather clock. On New Year's eve we stage an elaborate ceremony built around the clock which is rigged to work for the evening. The turn out is high, with people packed to the rafters,but they don't seem to mind. It is now so popular that we have started requiring tickets. It's all free of course. "

I looked at Martin in amazement. He was excited, talking and teaching, completely in his element."

"Last question, was the clock your idea? I know you were an amateur horologist."

"You surprise me, Louisa. Very few people know that's the term for the artisan who repairs clocks, well antique clocks. Most clocks are now manufactured in a factory so horologists are a dying breed."

Louisa wrapped her arm around Martin's shoulder. "We're full of surprises today, you and me," she noted playfully.

Then he answered her question. "Suggesting a clock was the extend of my idea. It took a team of skilled artisans and geeks, many of them from among the teens here, to create a model, assemble and build in working parts for its annual simulation as a working clock."

The exhibit halls were huge and buzzing with the sound of young people ranging from teenagers to young adults. Yet everything seemed very controlled as they appeared to be a well-behaved, enthusiastic lot. A few of them knew Martin and came over to say hello.

I had been a schoolteacher then headmistress for many years and had a good knowledge of the sciences, yet I had never seen anything like this in one space. I held on to Martin's hand and dragged him from one exhibit to another like a child let loose in a candy shop. He didn't say much and let the exhibit managers answers my questions. I could see that Martin was comfortable here and I was happy to be in his world.

At one exhibit, Native Flowers of Great Britain, things almost turned nasty when I asked the young woman in charge what I thought was a reasonable question.

"Excuse me miss, I don't see the Cornish Heath, Cornwall's floral emblem here. It's the only county whose flower is missing. I don't understand, can you tell me why it's missing?"

She eyed me sharply then snapped, "Questions, questions. Why do you have so many questions, and what would a grandmother like yourself do with all that information, anyhow?"

I felt my face tighten and reminded myself that she was only a teenager, but unfortunately a rude and defensive one. I had seen a lot of them in my time and knew that reasoning was not possible, especially because she seemed angry. Fearing that Martin would create a scene, I tugged at his hand for us to leave before I said something I would regret.

As we were leaving, the old headmistress in me kicked in and I heard myself saying, "You have it wrong, miss. You're never too old to learn."

Martin hadn't said anything throughout this exchange and his silence was beginning to frighten me. Instead of the rant I expected, he said, "Wait a minute" then called The Centre's manager on his phone and quietly asked whomever he was speaking with to have the young woman removed immediately. In minutes, while we were still standing there, a young man came, whispered something to the offending teenager and began escorting her away, when she walked over to us.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Ellingham. I'm having a bad day, and yes, I know that's not an excuse for my behaviour. My apologies to you too, Ma'am."

Martin nodded at her then continued showing me around. After about 15 minutes he excused himself and disappeared. When he finally returned, I looked at him thinking this was all so strange.

"Louisa I'm sorry about that. I have spoken with the young woman, her name is Melody, to get to the bottom of her behaviour."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause any problems. But she was rude." I really didn't want to be the wicked witch, on my first visit to The Centre.

"No you didn't. Our policy is to deal with things on a case-by-case basis as they come up. Often, the behavior you experienced today is the only one some young people are exposed to. We send them in for a refresher course, which includes our mission statement, and this usually resolves things. Melody is a gifted mathematician but has low social skills."

"Martin, I could kiss you. I cannot believe how you have changed. " I corrected myself. "No, the real you, the gentle, kind man I know was always there has now emerged."

"Go right ahead, but let's slip into this office."

After a long, deep kiss, he whispered, "Melody's social skills remind me a lot of how mine used to be at her age."

I squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"With love and prodding, our best selves usually come through. Let me share an experience I had with our son. He's not rude, but he frightened me that day."

I saw the concern in his face and smiled to soften what I was going to say.

"James was well-mannered and never a rebellious teenager. I knew he was hearing things about us in the village that made him angry, but he never said anything to me. One evening he came home, went straight to his room and locked the door. When he finally allowed me in, I began crying. He was the old you all over again: sad, angry and closed. I felt very close to you that evening because I saw you in your son. We cried, we talked and that helped him to deal with it. In a way, I was also crying for you."

"Please don't get all sad on me", Martin begged. "You have been the sunshine in our lives."

"We're just one lucky couple," I murmured.

"Yes we are. I love you Louisa Glasson. You will always be Louisa Glasson to me," he said.

That tender moment behind us, I pulled him along to see the butterflies. I knew he had always loved them since he was a child. This was one of the few things he shared with me a long time ago about his childhood.

When I finally said I was too tired to walk anymore, Martin asked me to make one last stop and took me upstairs to see the office he used when he was there for meetings. It was a small room on the top floor, that had a wall of glass from which you could look down into the foyer, the halls housing the permanent collections and a few other exhibition spaces.

"This is my sanctuary. Whatever issues or concerns I have, they pale when I see the animated faces of the young people below."

"I know what you mean, " I blurted out.

I put my arms around him to let him know that I understood and was happy to share this special moment with him.

"I love working with children. Mine were small children, full of hope, curiosity and excitement. My greatest pleasure as a mother was that by the time James started school, everybody knew him and it made his experience so much easier. I miss ..."

He turned to me. "What do you miss Louisa? You never told me why you stopped teaching."

"It's a long story. Another time. I'm really tired now, let's go home." My mood had changed and I wanted to get away from all the memories The Centre evoked. Many were too painful.

We drove home in silence, wrapped in our private thoughts.

Then an idea hit me and I heard myself thinking aloud.

"It would be nice for the children of Cornwall to have a Science Is Cool experience."

"What's that?" Martin leaned towards me without taking his eyes off the road.

"You can say no," I said to him. "It's just a wild thought."

"Nothing is wild about it. When we opened The Centre we didn't know if it was the right solution to ease a long-standing problem. Let me think about it and we can talk some more."

I was so overjoyed that I was almost jumping up in my seat and told him, "I had good time. Thank you Martin."

"Good."

And with that, the Melody incident and my low mood as I remembered my lost teaching career flew through the window.

"There are many things to enjoy in this great city, " Martin said, almost as if he were having a conversation with himself.

"I'm enjoying it already. "

I hope he believed me. He was trying so hard to show me a good time despite the demands of his job.

"There's much more I want to share with you, things for us to see and do."

"Martin Ellingham, I had better get married to you before someone snaps you up."

"There will only be you," he answered huskily, his voice dense with emotion.

A few weeks after, Martin called me in Portwenn to say that the Board has approved taking Science Is Cool as a travelling exhibit to Cornwall and if I wished, Portwenn Primary could be its first stop. Of course, I wished.

"And you will have your Cornish Heath and all things Cornwall, " he promised.

I'm glad he couldn't see me because I was dancing all over the cottage while I was listening to him.

"Thank you Martin. Cornwall will be forever indebted to you."

"Hmm."

I smiled. That's vintage Martin, get it done and shut up.

Martin told her later that it hadn't taken much to persuade the Board to sign off on the idea of a travelling exhibition. He had approached them with a proposal that showed how logistically possible it was, how it might attract funding outside of London and had even included details about the funding he had secured for its Portwenn leg. Then he had told them that it would make his fiancée, who's from Cornwall, very happy and if she was happy, he was happy.

One night as they lay in bed after a particularly intimate moment, Louisa cuddled up against Martin and said she was happy, very happy.

She was teary. "These are tears of joy, not sadness. Paul has helped me a lot."

Martin pulled her in some more to him. "I'm so glad, Louisa. I want us to have a happy life."