Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing except my overactive imagination.

Beauty and The Beast – Happy Ever After?

Chapter 2

How I regretted letting Mrs Tishell look after James that day, but it had been a difficult situation. Louisa had come round one evening to ask if I could look after our baby the next day. She'd explained that they were short staffed at the school due to some sort of flu virus going round, so she couldn't take the day off, or take James to work with her, and her mother was still recuperating after her operation. It was awkward for me because I knew I had a full patient list, and it was a bit late in the day to try to re-arrange all the appointments. However, I really didn't want to refuse, because I was worried about who on earth he might end up with if I didn't take him, so I agreed. It meant that I would have no option but to ask Morwenna to watch him while I saw my patients, but at least I would be near by to keep an eye on things.

The next morning, Mr. Tishell attended my surgery for a consultation. After I informed him that he would need a daily injection of heparin, he called his wife in so that I could explain to her how to carry out the procedure. I was surprised when she walked in carrying James Henry with her. She quite rightly pointed out that the germ laden surgery was not the best place for a baby, and that Morwenna was hardly qualified or even willing to look after him. So logically, it had seemed a suitable arrangement when she offered to mind James for a couple of hours, especially as she seemed to be quite good with him. She was a mature, professional woman after all, albeit a slightly odd one, but by Portwenn standards, she had seemed by far the most sensible choice of child minder.

But when I went to collect James at lunch time, I found that Mrs Tishell had gone missing with him. As I searched her flat for clues as to where she might have gone, I was horrified to discover a 'stalker cupboard' that contained pictures and newspaper clippings, signifying what seemed to be a rather unhealthy obsession with me. I had realised that she was trying to befriend me over the years, especially after she gave me that horrendous personalised yellow jumper and planted a kiss on my very unwilling lips when I'd been about to leave for London. I never imagined that there was anything remotely sinister in her overtures, but when I discovered the medication combination that she had been irresponsibly self prescribing, alarm bells began to sound. I realised that she was most likely having some sort of psychotic episode and that James Henry could be in real danger.

I rushed over to the school and felt so guilty as I had to face telling Louisa what had happened while our son was in my care. Of course I would never have let the woman any where near our baby if I had had the slightest idea of how unbalanced she had become.

As Louisa and I, accompanied by PC Penhale and Aunt Ruth, raced around trying to track her down, it hit me with a sickening thud that sometimes you don't know what you've got until it's gone. I prayed that it wasn't too late when we finally worked out that Mrs Tishell was at a remote place called Pentire Castle, and ran up the rocky path to reach it.

Seeing no sign of the woman or James Henry, I hammered on the door to try to gain access, before both Louisa and Ruth counselled me to take a more restrained approach. But then we heard Mrs Tishell calling out to me, and so while the ladies stayed out of sight, and PC Penhale disappeared round the back of the building, I went to see where she was. The sight that greeted me could almost have been one from a Shakespeare play.

Mrs Tishell was upstairs, hanging out of a leaded arched window, while a flag flapped in the breeze on the castellated roof above her. She was precariously holding James as she leant out, and I knew that I had to act quickly to ensure his safety.

"Just bring the baby down here NOW," I instructed her, in my usual clear and authoritative manner.

But when she failed to respond to my order, and seemed upset as she thought that I sounded a little angry, I realised that it was not going to be that easy. I tried again.

"Why don't you just come down here and we can talk about it?" I suggested.

But instead, Mrs Tishell started ranting on and on about how long she'd been waiting for me, accusing me of 'running round with that school teacher trollop', then berating me for my vacillating behaviour over the years, before finally telling me that she couldn't stand it any more.

Worryingly, it was evident that the woman was becoming more distressed and unbalanced by the minute, refusing to accept that she was having a psychotic episode brought about by the drugs that she was taking, instead insisting that they had enabled her to feel free and to see things more clearly. Then she spotted that oaf Penhale through the window and became extremely agitated, accusing me of lying to her, and I struggled to think what to do next to calm her down. I saw Louisa wringing her hands, scared of what this unhinged woman might do next.

Aunt Ruth started giving me her professional advice on how to talk the deluded woman down, and logically it made sense for me to listen to her, but as I looked over at Louisa, somehow I just knew that I had to trust her instincts, that she somehow understood what words would get through to Mrs Tishell. At least I felt now that Louisa and I were a team working together to get our son back.

And it also dawned on me that this was my very last opportunity, my very last chance to finally open up to Louisa, albeit under the pretext of convincing the batty woman to come down with James. It was true, I realised as I listened to Mrs Tishell's rantings, I had waited far too long, missed far too many opportunities to win the woman of my dreams, because of my fear of opening up and putting my heart on the line.

"I'm a difficult person," Louisa instructed me to say, as Aunt Ruth rolled her eyes in disbelief. "I waited so long because…"

Louisa pulled a face at me to give me a clue as to what I should say next, rather like a game of charades.

"Because I'm an idiot," I said, as Louisa gave me a double thumbs up to show that I had interpreted her correctly.

"I think I've known how I felt since the first time I met you, from the first time I saw you," I continued, as I looked over at Louisa.

And it was true. I remembered only too well how I hadn't been able to concentrate on reading my newspaper on the flight down to Cornwall, distracted as I was by the exceptionally attractive young woman with very beautiful eyes, who was sat opposite me. That was why I'd noticed that there was possibly something wrong, because I was captivated by those eyes. But she had seemed upset when I kept trying to look more closely. She told me that I had a problem, then had moved away to another seat before I'd had a chance to explain my medical concerns to her.

On my arrival for the job interview, it certainly made things a little awkward when Chris Parsons introduced me to this same woman and I discovered that Louisa Glasson was in fact one of the lay members on the interview panel.

By coincidence that interview had been held at The Castle Hotel, the very same place where we had initially rushed to today, thinking that was where Mrs Tishell was. Being there again brought back memories of how Miss Glasson had given me a pretty hard time at that interview, questioning my suitability for the GP role. Although I was rather put out by her attitude towards me, my interest was most definitely piqued. This was a woman who was not only beautiful, but feisty and intelligent. As a highly respected vascular consultant who had been in charge of a surgical team, I was used to people being somewhat in awe of me. Part of me rather respected her for not sucking up to me, as she pretty much told me that she didn't consider me to be a suitable candidate for the GP opening in their little village.

Clearly she was overruled, because she came storming out of the room as I waited outside, and started reading me the riot act.

"I'm warning you…."

At that point my medical persona clicked in, as I took the opportunity to question her about her vision, and examine her eyes more closely. It was just as I'd thought, suspected acute glaucoma in the right eye, and I advised her to seek expert help immediately. That took the wind right out of her sails, Miss Hoity Toity Glasson, so protective of her silly little village. But despite myself, I couldn't tear my eyes away from her as she left, and so I crashed into the door when I made my way back into the room where the interview panel waited to greet me with the news that I was the successful candidate.

I was reassured to think that at least now she realised that I had not been acting improperly towards her by looking into her eyes, I had merely been acting as any responsible doctor should when he suspects a serious medical condition.

But Cupid had shot his arrow with great accuracy, because from that day on, it seemed as if a spell had been cast over me, and I just couldn't get the enchanting Louisa Glasson out of my mind, however hard I tried. There was no respite for me even at night, because she invaded my dreams as well, at times in a most erotic and disturbing manner.

I told myself that a stunning woman like her was way out of my league, but that didn't stop me from thinking about her all the time, even finding excuses to go out of my way just to catch a glimpse of her.

I'd messed up so many previous chances, but now I had to act to try to convince her to give me one last chance before it was too late, and I ended up spending the rest of my life alone and without her. To my surprise, I found that the more I spoke, the easier it became, as the floodgates opened to allow my true feelings to pour out, to tell her how I really felt.

"I know I'm hard to talk to, I'm aware of that." Louisa nodded her head at me as I said this.

"And I do hate Portwenn. I hate the people," I told her. The truth was that I really didn't care in general for people anywhere, be they from Cornwall or London. Their bodies, their illnesses and symptoms I found fascinating; the characters that inhabited these bodies were simply an inconvenience that I had to tolerate. I found it far easier to identify patients by their symptoms and illnesses than by their names. Louisa had accurately assessed me all that time ago at that interview. I was indeed a typical surgeon, interested in bodies, not people. But I didn't see that as any great problem. I would always perform my duties to the very best of my abilities, regardless of how annoying I found my patients.

"But it's where I want to be, because you're here, because of you. Because if I'm with you, nothing else matters."

I looked at Louisa as I spoke, so that she knew that my words were directed at her and only her. She was the centre of my universe.

"What I'm trying to say is …I love you."

There. I'd finally come out and said it. What was so hard about saying those words? Why had I found it so difficult for so long, especially knowing how important it was to Louisa? Wise old bird that Auntie Joan had been, she'd pretty much known from the beginning that I'd fallen head over heels for Louisa when she'd caught me staring into the school at her, and had countless times tried to give me a nudge in the right direction. But I'd always convinced myself that a wonderful, beautiful woman like Louisa would never be interested in a big ugly old brute like me. Even when we'd nearly married, I'd been unable to believe that I could ever make her happy, and had not been surprised when she too had called the wedding off. Yet somehow, despite my appalling behaviour towards her over the years, there had always been a bond between us that kept pulling us together even when I resisted. Now I had finally acknowledged it - and it was liberating.

And thank God my words worked. Both with Mrs Tishell, who came down, allowing Louisa to safely retrieve James, and also with Louisa.

Once Mrs Tishell could be prised away from me, she was lead away by Aunt Ruth, aided by PC Penhale.

"This isn't how the fairy tale ends. It's the handsome prince and…," Mrs Tishell tried to protest.

Now it was time for another Doctor Ellingham to take control, as Aunt Ruth calmly explained to the deranged woman what had happened, and prevented an eager PC Penhale from arresting and handcuffing her psychotic patient.

"You don't know what love is," Mrs Tishell shouted back to me.

Oh but I did know what love was, and even if I didn't see myself as any kind of a handsome prince in a fairy tale, I was hoping for a happy ending this time.

"Is he alright?" I asked, as I looked at our son. Louisa was cuddling him protectively in her arms.

"I think he's fine," she replied, as she tenderly kissed his soft little head. Then she looked up at me.

"Did you mean what you said about staying here or was that all for…?" she asked, studying my face, as if she hardly dared to believe that my words had been directed at her.

"No, I meant it. All of it," I assured her.

"I have waited so long to hear you say nice things, and I'd given up, completely given up. And then to hear you say them today to someone else…"

The look on her face made me feel so guilty and sad that I had waited so long, and missed so many opportunities to make her happy.

"It doesn't matter," I tried to tell her.

"It does to me," she insisted.

"No, I mean everything. What school James goes to…London…none of it matters. I'm not going to be like my father, and he is not going to be like me."

I knew for certain now that all I wanted was to be with Louisa, and it didn't matter where. And I really wanted the chance to be a good father to James, not a cruel bully like my father had been. I did not want my son growing up feeling unloved or lonely as I had.

"And I do love you," I repeated, to try to make amends for taking so long to tell her how I really felt, and I think she still couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.

"Say it again," she demanded with a little smile.

"I think I've already said it twice," I pointed out.

"I know, but say it again anyway," Louisa smiled at me.

I leaned in to kiss her, happy and relieved that things had turned out so well in the end. I closed my eyes as our lips touched, to savour every second. I slowly broke away so that I could tell her that I would always love her, that she would always be the only woman for me, but then that idiot Penhale interrupted us.

"Sorry guys, you just carry on," he urged us, after twittering on about something to do with losing his police radio.

But the moment had passed, and so we started to make our way back down the twisty path towards the car. As Louisa slipped her hand in mine, we were together again, our little family of three.

To Be Continued