Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination
The Gravel Road
Chapter 7
Finally Monday morning's session was at an end. Martin needed to use the computer, but he had to wait for Pauline to leave for her lunch break before he could use it in private. It made him think that maybe he should consider getting his own laptop, as Louisa had suggested to him several times when they'd been engaged. Until now, he hadn't really seen the point, he much preferred to hand write his notes as he went along with his patients, and any research he needed to undertake could be done in the evenings on the main surgery computer. He left the door to his consulting room open so that he would know when Pauline left – normally she couldn't wait to get out of the door at lunch time, but today she seemed to be dithering about for ages.
"Managed to cancel or change most of your appointments for Friday Doc, at least all the ones you highlighted as important," Pauline shouted though to him, just as Joan made her way into his surgery.
"Oh, and may I ask why you're cancelling his appointments?" Joan asked curiously.
"Doc's going away for the weekend. Won't say where though. I reckon it's for a dirty weekend." Pauline snorted with laughter, believing that to be completely impossible. More likely just some medical conference, to take his mind off Louisa and the non wedding. He wasn't the type to drown his sorrows and sow a few wild oats like most normal blokes, but then the Doc was not a normal bloke in any way shape or form.
"Marty?" Joan looked at her nephew questioningly.
"My personal life is not up for general discussion," he snapped , as he glared pointedly at Pauline and raised his eyebrows.
"Right. Well I'm off to meet Al, be back in a bit." Pauline didn't bat an eyelid at the Doc's grumpy reply to his aunt – it was par for the course with him. She scooped up her bag, coat and scarf, wrapping herself up against the elements as she headed out of the door, surprised that the Doc didn't remind her not to be late back as he normally did.
As soon as Pauline had closed the door behind her, Martin sat down at the desk and started tapping at the keyboard, ignoring his aunt. She stood back and looked on with some amusement as she saw him concentrating intently for a minute or two, and then saw a hint of a smile hover around his mouth for just a few seconds.
Martin was too busy checking his emails to take any notice of Joan, as he read the latest one from Louisa;
M,
Just managed to sneak into the office to use the computer this lunchtime to tell you that the flowers are GORGEOUS. I was so shocked (and embarrassed) when a great big bouquet turned up from you at school today. You really are so surprising sometimes, I'd never have imagined you doing something like this, but I'm really glad that you did.
How are you getting on with your hotel booking – any update yet?
L xxx
So the order he'd placed last night with Interflora had arrived at the right place. He'd realised that it was no good having them sent to Holly's address as Louisa would be at work, so he'd googled Queensgate school to get the address, and specified that they must be delivered there between 9:00 am and 4:00pm, having paid extra for next day delivery.
He keyed in a reply and sent it back straight away.
L
Glad the delivery was satisfactory. Should be in a position to update re arrangements very shortly.
M
Then he glanced up at Joan.
"Yes? Was there something in particular you wanted?" he asked irritably, annoyed at being interrupted.
"I just came in to see what's happening, you know, between you and Louisa, seeing as you didn't bother to return my call. Is that what this weekend away is all about? Are you going up to London to see her?" she asked, rather exasperated. One minute he was coming to see her to unburden himself and seek her advice, the next he could barely bring himself to be civil to her.
"Well it might be, if I could only get on and book it without people pestering me," he replied tetchily.
"Ah right, I see. You managed to sort things out with her then?" Joan enquired hopefully.
"Not exactly no. That's what this next weekend is for, for us to talk things through."
"Well whatever happens Marty, for goodness sake make an effort with the girl, and don't do your usual trick of opening your mouth and jumping in with both feet. No doubt being pregnant will mean she'll be rather hormonal and might take things the wrong way – you know what you're like, tact has never been your strongest point," Joan pointed out in her usual forthright manner.
"Thank you for your vote of confidence, Auntie Joan," Martin replied witheringly, as he turned back to the computer screen to bring up the details of the hotel he had in mind and make the booking.
"OK I'll leave you to it, you know where to find me if you want to talk," Joan told him, as she leaned over to give him a peck on the cheek.
"Hmm," Martin replied distractedly, as he concentrated on the details on the screen.
Joan sighed to herself as she left the surgery. She really wasn't sure that Martin was going to pull this off and convince Louisa to return to the village. She certainly hoped that he would for all their sakes, but most especially for the sake of the baby.
xXx
"Sorry I'm a bit late, had to make all these extra phone calls to reschedule appointments cos the Doc's going away for the weekend," Pauline explained to Al as she wandered into the pub to meet him. He had more spare time on his hands at the moment, with it being out of season, and too few tourists to make it worthwhile opening the restaurant until nearer Christmas. But he did sometimes pick up a plumbing job to help top up the coffers.
"Oh, where's he going? Off for a dirty weekend somewhere?" Al joked.
"Yeah right, as if," Pauline scoffed. "He wouldn't say what he's up to. You know the Doc, he never tells anyone anything, always plays his cards close to his chest. Probably some boring medical convention or something."
"Unless he's missing the pleasures of the flesh, now that he's had a taste of what he's been missing all these years, you know, with Louisa," Al winked at Pauline, who choked on her drink at the very idea of the Doc 'doing the deed'.
"Oh Al, you couldn't be more wrong! I think that's why Louisa called the wedding off, cos he… you know… wasn't up to things, if you know what I'm saying." This was Pauline's theory, because she could never ever, not in a million years, ever imagine the Doc actually doing it.
"Nah, I think you've got him all wrong," Al teased. "And you know, come to think of it, Sunday morning I thought I saw the Doc's car at 'The Coach and Four' up on the moor. Old Cyril the Landlord rang, asked if I could fix the sink in their kitchen cos it was blocked. Only took me ten minutes, easy job it was, but I thought I saw a silver Lexus just like our Doc's in the far corner of the car park, only I didn't pay too much attention at the time. And you know what everyone stays there for don't you? A secret bit of 'how's your father', that's what that place is renowned for."
"Stop messing about Al, you're just being plain silly now." Pauline shoved him playfully in the ribs making him spill his beer, as they both giggled at the thought of something as ludicrous as the Doc have a secret love tryst.
xXx
As Martin settled down in bed with his trusty British Medical Journal for company in the hotel room in London, his mobile phone rang.
"Louisa? What's the matter? Is there a problem?" His first thought on seeing that it was her calling was that she was cancelling, not coming over in the morning, and his heart sank. It was bad enough that she'd had to attend the wretched parents evening at school and been unable to join him this evening, so what could be the matter now?
"No, nothing's wrong, it's just that…"
"What?"
"Is it too late for me to come over? Only I'm back from parents evening, and I'm just sitting here all by myself in my pokey little bedroom, which seems such a shame now that you're here in London too, don't you think?" Louisa wasn't sure how Martin would feel about a late evening visit, knowing that he was an 'early to bed, early to rise' person, and it was now past 10:00pm
"Err yes, yes it does seem a shame," Martin agreed, now sitting up in bed, his BMJ quickly discarded and dropping unnoticed onto the floor.
"So, what do you think? Should I come over? Or are you too tired?"
"No, no I'm not too tired. If you want to come over that would be good, that would fine," Martin quickly assured her, wide awake now.
"Okay, so what's the nearest tube station to the hotel?" Louisa enquired, pleased that he seemed enthusiastic about a nocturnal visit from her.
"Don't take the tube at this time of night. Get a taxi instead," Martin urged.
"London taxis are a bit pricey Martin. I'll be fine getting the tube, it's really not that late," she replied.
"No, I'll organise a taxi to come and get you, so just stay put for now," Martin insisted, glad that he already had Holly's address, knowing that he only had to make a quick call down to the concierge. In this class of hotel, anything could be arranged for their guests with no questions asked.
"It's really not necessary…" Louisa argued.
"Louisa, I insist. Just sit tight until it gets there. The traffic shouldn't be too bad at this time of night, so it shouldn't take long."
"Well I suppose if it's not too much trouble... See you very soon, Martin," Louisa told him, thinking that it would actually be rather nice to be collected and chauffeured over, so why not let him arrange it?
"Yes, Bye." Martin closed his phone, and then picked up the hotel phone to make his request.
xXx
As Louisa sat in the taxi on the way over, she decided to push all her niggling doubts and worries about her relationship with Martin to the back of her mind just for tonight. Tomorrow would be soon enough to tackle things with him to decide about their future – if indeed they did have a future together.
She took her mobile out of her bag and sent a text message to Martin.
'On way over in taxi now. Hope you aren't going to be overdressed when I arrive? xxx'
If he was still in his bloody suit and tie she would scream. Surely even he couldn't fail to get the hint that clothes were not a requirement tonight?
The journey over didn't take too long, and Louisa soon found herself at the reception desk of the very swanky, posh hotel. It must be costing Martin a bomb, so all the more reason to make the most of it, she decided.
"I'm checking in - Louisa Glasson, staying with Doctor Ellingham," she explained to the young man.
"Ah yes. Room 932. Go straight up to the ninth floor, and turn left. Enjoy your stay," the man replied as he smiled and handed her the card that was the key to the door. He didn't show any surprise that she wasn't Mrs Ellingham, not so much as a raised eyebrow. London certainly wasn't like Cornwall where everyone took such an interest in the goings on of other folk, Louisa thought to herself.
She entered the lift, pressed the button for the ninth floor and felt her stomach lurch as the lift speed upwards. She quickly checked her reflection in the mirrored wall of the lift, then walked out as the lift doors opened. Turning left, she easily found room 932 and knocked, even though she had her own key.
Martin opened the door, wearing just his dressing gown, she was relieved to see.
"Louisa."
"Martin."
She stepped into the room, threw her bag down just inside the door, then allowed her coat to slip off, revealing that she was wearing very little underneath. Then she threw herself into his arms, just as she had when he'd proposed to her in her cottage. He picked her up and swung her round, deftly kicking the door shut with his heel as he did so, and carried her over to the bed…