As I lay suspended between sleep and wakefulness, the disaster of yesterday drifted in and out of my thoughts. I felt as if my life with Louisa had come full circle. We had returned to the village together and stronger as a couple. The dragon that was Margaret had been slain, yet it had brought us no pleasure. In a strange way, it had cemented our relationship as we faced the havoc she had wreaked on the Exhibition and brought our small community of friends together.

When I opened my eyes at 7 o'clock, Louisa was not in bed. Hearing sounds downstairs, I called out to her and she yelled back at me, "Breakfast is ready. Come and get it."

I got dressed and went into the kitchen to find Louisa and Jenny preparing sandwiches. Pots of a stew of some kind were on the stove.

Our homey country kitchen looked like an industrial pantry. Huge bags of fruits and vegetables were stacked on a counter. What looked like an entire bakery of breads and pastries were piled high on another counter and assorted bags were lying everywhere.

Wondering what on earth had hit our kitchen, I looked at Louisa.

She was all smiles, and, at a casual glance, looked none the worse from our late night. "People are coming in early this morning. Don't want them to starve, do we?"

"No likelihood of that, though they may go into a diabetic shock," I said, looking closer at the breads and pastries. Today we would be playing host to the villagers, friends and acquaintances who wanted to help the Science Is Cool project succeed as a travelling exhibition.

She confirmed my suspicion that an army of kitchens had been pressed into service to feed the presumed descending horde of crew and volunteers.

"This is not all. Pauline has loads of food ready and people from the village have called to say what they are preparing. Al has set up two tents; one for them to store their luggage until they can get to their hotel and a dining tent for the crew and volunteers."

"Where did all this food come from? It's too early to have gone grocery shopping."

Jenny explained that it was all her doing. "I did some more calling around after I left here last night. Most of what's here was contributed by friends who dropped them off at my house and left some on your doorstep by the time I got here at 6 o'clock."

I knew Louisa must be running on adrenaline because we had gone to bed after 2 am.

"Aren't you tired from yesterday? You didn't have to get up this early."

"No time for sleep, Martin. There's too much to get done today."

Remembering what Janet had told me about village gossip, I asked, "And you think all of this will be appreciated?"

"Village life can be difficult with all the gossiping, but in a crisis, we stick together as we're doing now."

For her sake, I wished that was true. She looked so earnest, comfortably dressed in jeans, a jumper and boots and with her hair pulled back in its usual ponytail.

Without giving it a thought, I walked over to her and Jenny and gave them a peck on their cheek. I thought of Jenny as family, and Louisa, well, she was my one true love. The Exhibition might have been her idea, but I was invested in the project and they were pitching in mightily to make its latest venture a success.

Jenny recovered first. "Please don't try to give me a heart attack. Come on, chop, chop. We have to get all this food to the village. Eat up and let's go. My truck can hold most everything, you and Louisa can take what's left in your car."

"How are James and Rosie going to get in. Shouldn't one of us stay back to wait on them?" I asked.

Louisa looked at me as if I was stupid. "James grew up in the village. He will know where to find the key."

"Louisa! That's not safe."

"This is not London. It will be as safe as it can be, under the stone beside the front step."

Knowing when I was beaten, I had breakfast, helped to load the vehicles and drove to the village.

On the way over, I could see that Louisa was in a playful mood.

As she ran her hand along my leg, she asked, "What are we going to do tonight to celebrate?"

"Let's get through the day, first."

"Oh, Martin, you know everything is going to work out."

By temperament, and after the events of yesterday, I was cautious. I was also having a hard time concentrating because Louisa's roaming hand was having its desired effect.

"I haven't seen the scope of the damage. Let's wait until then."

When we reached a bend where the road narrowed, signaling that we were about to enter the village, I gently removed her hand from my leg and placed it firmly in her lap.

"Now why would you do that? Are you afraid of what the villagers will think? I'm your wife, you know."

As if I could forget. "Yes, but let's leave some things for when we're alone and at home."

"One for the road," she said and nuzzled my neck. "Another later when we celebrate."

Instead of the chaos I was expecting with so many hands, the hall and the Platt were a beehive of activity, yet strangely quiet. The constable had cordoned off the area and had given orders for everyone to stay away. Al had the repairs to the truck tires under control. A board member had called to say that insurance would cover their replacement or repair. Peter, the twins, Michael and Dave had put themselves in charge of teams which were working quietly and quickly to salvage what could be salvaged and making note of what would be required to reassemble the exhibition.

After we unloaded the food, Jenny and Louisa stayed behind in the dining tent, leaving me free to assess the damage.

Many of the exhibits, inside and outside the hall, had not been spared. Some had wild streaks of paints over them, others which had been stored on the floor had been banged about with a heavy object and some had just been thrown around and smashed here and there. Signage leaning up against a wall had been cut up or spray painted. Boxes of small items had been rifled, their contents strewn about. The truck tires were slit with surgical precision. Given the state of Margaret's mental health, a more apt description would be manic precision. There was even evidence that she had tried to get into one of the trucks.

Luckily, we had insured as much of the Exhibition as we could and I had insisted that we use professional packers for crating and heavy-wrap. It had cost a fortune, that in hindsight was worth every penny. Most everything was insured, but of course that was poor consolation now.

I wondered how could such a diminutive woman as Margaret create so much damage in so short a time. I knew that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned although I didn't think it applied here. Why hadn't she wreaked vengeance on her ex-husband instead of me? By comparison, Edith didn't seem so bad after all. Last I heard of her, she had married an American well below her supposed station in life, moved to America, was as happy as she could be and was now retired after a lucrative career in "gynae".

While I was looking around, the constable came up to me and extended his hand.

"Glad to meet you Sir. I have heard a lot about you." Waving his arm in the direction of the items which were being sorted, he said, "This looks like a clear case of criminal damage."

He looked at me enquiringly for a response. Criminal charges will not be pressed against Margaret if I have anything to do with it. It's the least I can do for an ill colleague.

Remembering that Chris had described him as a sensible chap, I said, "We will handle this internally. The person who did this was ill and not responsible for her actions."

He looked at me incredulously. "You would let her get away with this? It's going to cost a pretty penny to get everything back in order."

"Whatever it is, we will take care of it. And as for her getting away with it, as I said, she's ill."

Walking away, he nodded his goodbye. "You're an even bigger man than I thought. We will do everything we can to help you get this Exhibition up and running."

Louisa eventually caught up with me. "It's bad, isn't it?"

"Could be worse."

"That's true. However, I think we'll make it with all the help we have."

I looked around, there was nothing else Louisa and I could do. Not now, maybe later.

"Stop worrying. Everything is under control. Let's walk around." And with that, she took my hand and led me all over the village, greeting people as we went along.

Caroline had driven over when the news reached her. "Don't want any bad press about Cornwall, do we?" she told us cheerfully when we saw her setting up in a small tent on the edge of the Platt.

In the dining tent, Pauline was running a tight ship and had set up a first-aid area in one corner. I thought this was a smart idea. We came in just in time to hear her explaining why she had done so to a group of volunteers.

"This area is now a construction zone. People can get hurt. We need to be ready for any eventuality."

She waved when she saw me. "Don't worry Doc, we won't be asking you to help. Don't want anything to happen to your gifted hands. Peter said he would help if needed."

"Thank you Pauline. I don't think we will be short on medical help."

By midday, it looked as if by some miracle we would be ready for Sunday's opening.

Marissa and her team, along with the crew, had some unusual ideas for restaging the exhibition to mask the fact that some pieces were beyond repair. A few exhibits which were designed for indoors were now outdoors in the small school yard and made to look as if they were a part of the play area. With the help of Ross, Marissa had gotten a couple of fishermen to agree to keep an eye on a large exhibit on Aquatic life of Cornwall which was now placed a ways in from the beach. Someone had come up with the brilliant idea of incorporating two boats which were under repair into the design. Their owners were more than willing to pitch in and were proud to be a part of the exhibit.

Dave had declared the Reaching for the Stars Astronomy exhibit beyond repair and I had agreed. Not Marissa. She redesigned it to fit on a large, two-layer observation deck, almost as high as the school, with sturdy sides and steps which volunteer carpenters were busy building when I passed. Four telescopes which had not been unpacked, and were safely stored in the truck, will be mounted on the deck and Michael will conduct nightly stargazing sessions. A member of the Cornwall Astronomy Association had called to say they would be coming to help us. This was even better than we could have imagined in London.

When we held a review meeting at 4 pm in the dining tent, everybody who had promised to be there was there. James had found his way into the house and he, Rosie and their friends had joined the crew to help where they could.

Caroline was a godsend. She handled the media and communication masterfully. A Board member, Sally Reid, who was a former science editor and had grown up in Cornwall, joined her in the tent and together they were our rock. They made notes, prepared reports, logged progress, sent emails, texts and coordinated a team of young teenage volunteers. You name it, Caroline and Sally did it to make sure we were on course and knew what was happening. Our meeting was quick and to the point. Everything seemed to be back on schedule when we broke at 5 o'clock.

"Let's go home," I begged Louisa. "We need to recover." I was exhausted and I could see that she and Jenny were fading.

There was nothing more that we could do here. Work would continue through the night and there were more than enough hands. We heard music coming from the hall and figured the young people were having a good time as they worked. Janet's husband had come and taken her home after the meeting and we drove behind Jenny to make sure she got home safely.

After dinner, Louisa brought up the matter of our celebration.

"We got through the day, there's still tomorrow. Let's hold the celebration for tomorrow."

"Oh, Martin, don't be such a stickler."

"Tomorrow will be another long day. We need to turn in early." That's when she came up with the idea of us dancing. I didn't have the heart to tell her, no.

"Just one song," she pleaded. "Let's celebrate us, the things we do for each other, How we have stuck together with this project. I don't want us to ever take each other for granted."

Brian Adams's Everything I Do, I Do It For You was new to me. It wasn't exactly my taste, but she liked it and I liked having her in my arms, nuzzling my neck.

Look into my eyes – you will see
What you mean to me.
Search your heart, search your soul
And when you find me there you'll search no more.

Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for.
You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for.
You know it's true:
Everything I do, I do it for you.

When the song ended she reached up and kissed me. "That wasn't so bad, was it? I love you Martin Ellingham."

"I love you too, Louisa Ellingham. Now,let's go to bed."

I knew the events of yesterday had taken its toll when Louisa asked, "Can you believe that this is only our third night in Cornwall?"

I made some sort of sound and drew her closer to me as we lay in bed. We were lost in our private thoughts when she eased herself out of my arms, sat up and turned on the beside lamp.

"I need to say something."

What now? I cannot rehash all that has happened and I don't want to discuss Margaret. She doesn't belong in our bedroom.

"I feel badly about how I treated Dr. Kent. You have to believe me. I didn't know she was ill and I was afraid for us. What is going to happen to her?

Chris had called earlier with an update so I put her mind at rest. "You did what the situation warranted. You were not to know she was ill. Chris has arranged for her transfer to a hospital in London where her family can keep an eye on her."

"Will she be able to practice again?"

I doubted that since she had lost her license, but I didn't say this to Louisa. "It depends on how she responds to her treatment and the hospital's policy on matters of this nature."

She seemed satisfied with that, then she asked another question. "Did you love her?"

Besides the evening when she had barged into our home, I hadn't thought about Margaret since our night together, and that was ten years ago. Love had never been a factor in my few relationships, except maybe with Victoria. And that was a fleeting thought. I had learned to keep that part of me private. In the early days, I had never been short of dates to attend the hospital functions that Robert insisted would be good for my reputation and for the hospital. He also thought it looked better if I didn't come alone.

"Why?" I had fumed when he first came up with this nonsensical explanation. "There's nothing in my contract that says I have to attend these stupid functions, and with a companion at that."

"Don't be difficult, Ellingham. People feel more comfortable around a couple, rather than a single person at these social events. With somebody by your side, you won't be glaring at people and looking your usual unapproachable self."

Privately, I thought his real reason for pushing me into these social situations was to find me a wife.

I never loved Margaret. She was a brilliant young internist when I first met her, articulate and passionate about medicine. We met at a conference where we were presenting papers. Since we were the only representatives from the hospital, I did the polite thing by inviting her to sit with me at the presenters pre-conference dinner. After that, we kept bumping into each other at conferences, until one night she invited me out.

"If I don't, you never will, Martin."

That was true, I couldn't imagine what we had to talk about besides our shared interest in medicine, given that she was at least 15 years my junior. In time, she became a diversion from nights spent grieving over my loss of Louisa.

"I never loved her. She knew that. I enjoyed her company at first and respected her medical skills," I answered truthfully.

I sat up in bed so that I could look Louisa in the eye. "I have never felt about anybody as I feel about you. You have to believe me that you're the only woman I have ever loved."

Her face lit up. "I believe you. I have always been curious, but it wasn't fair to ask you about her. We both have histories."

"You can ask me anything. For you, I have no secrets. Now get some sleep."

I leaned over to turn off the bedside lamp on her side when she held my hand.

"The village came through for us, didn't they?"

"Yes, they did."

London seemed so far away now. I had immersed myself in village life and I didn't care. I smiled at what my colleagues, my wealthy patients and my research team would think of me down in the trenches trying to resuscitate the Exhibition. Perhaps the song Louisa choose for us to dance to, said it all. Everything I do, I do it for you. All I cared about was making my beloved Louisa happy.

Tomorrow would bring its own surprises, I suppose. But with Louisa by my side ...