Chapter 28 – Hoped

When I came back to Portwenn from London, bearing my special burden, as well as a load of heartache, I had hoped that Martin would help me, perhaps even welcome me back. I had laid in my lonely bed sit hugging myself, sobbing uncontrollably when the London school sacked me, well, technically I had quit. The one thing, the one thing I wanted right then was Martin – I wanted Martin to have his arms around me, just holding me. That was what I hoped for. I hoped that Martin would take me back.

Louisa, you have certainly made a royal mess of that plan, now haven't you? Arriving in Portwenn, you went straight away to the surgery, to see Martin, and you did see him. But in the six months you were gone, he'd gotten close to another woman, Doctor Edith Montgomery. Then you had to drag your little suitcase down to the pub, trying to smile all the while, barging in on all your friends, your very pregnant belly telling far more than any words could have. The internal voice went on and on inside my head, retelling every stupid mistake I had made since I came home; every failure in infinite detail.

Each one was replayed where I lost my temper with Martin, or been yelled at in return by him, as well as my most recent blowup with Martin over that mad midwife Molly O'Brian. I finally had seen that she was the problem, not Martin, and the medical advice he'd given me was sound.

I stumbled down Rosscarrock Hill once more, after hearing Edith tell Martin that he had gotten a new job in London at Imperial College. The baby was kicking the hell out of me the entire way and I slumped at last onto the sofa in my cottage, one that I finally was beginning to think of as mine and not as Mr. Routledge's. I looked around my neat, finally clean and lonely lounge, and that's when the tears came. And they came… and when there was nothing left at all I sat there a massive soggy mess until night fell.

I wasn't hungry, thirsty, or even terribly tired as darkness fell. I still had some schoolwork to do - there was less than two weeks in the term until summer break - but I decided I was just too drained; too worn out. I'd work on it in the morning.

I drank a little orange juice, choked down a stale scone and dragged myself up to my bedroom. It was smaller than my old one in White Rose Cottage, which Mr. Strain still held the lease on, although he was in hospital treatment. I missed my old house where my furniture fit so nicely and it was my home. Probably the only place I'd considered my actual home having lived there happily so long. It was hard to remember that happiness – it was before Martin Ellingham came to town. I was young, well established in the village and teaching every weekday, and I wasn't worried, too much, about lack of a boyfriend.

Then came the fateful day that Martin interviewed for the GP job after Doc Sims died. I had never liked the old GP as he always seemed a little splash-dash in his medicine and personal hygiene. Honestly I can't actually say that I had too many health issues in those days, but there was one that was cooking away in the background, well perhaps it was in the foreground as the vision of my right eye would go blurry and I was suffering from headaches.

I didn't like Martin Ellingham when I saw him on the plane – his constant staring convinced me he was a pervert - and I liked him even less when I saw that he was the GP candidate!

That memory made me smile since he had saved my eyesight from glaucoma by his quick and insightful diagnosis. I brushed my teeth and used Listerine then looked long and hard at my two blue eyes, now red rimmed and tired. Eyes that would be damaged now if I hadn't taken that particular flight back from Wales, where I'd taken a few days holiday. And if Martin hadn't looked long and hard, well who knew what might have happened?

I thought how cruel Fate can be, as I stripped off my dress and bra and dressed for bed. The cotton and polyester nightgown was long, felt both soft and silky, and it fell gently over me, my belly caressed by the folds. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror I had Al Large install on the back of the door.

I hoped that things would have gone better with Martin these past few weeks. But he clearly was so cross, so angry with me, and I with him. It was only outside the Wenn's house last week when we both spoke about responsibility that I started to realize that both of us had a lot of growing up to do.

We were clearly adults - adult enough to make a baby - but other times we acted like spoiled children. I hugged my belly and stoked the fabric over it and my hugely swollen baps. In a few weeks this not so little baby will be in my arms, and I had a lot do.

One thing I had to do at present was to let Martin go. I had to be strong. He was going to London; we were switching places. London was his town and Portwenn was mine. And the miles between us in future would make things all the more difficult. But other than exchanging some genetic material eight months back, that seemed to be it. And even that has a massive mistake. A woman's magazine described it as "a contraceptive failure." Too right. We'd used precautions but who knew the "use dates" meant something? I rubbed my enormous belly again.

I'd had a chance with Martin and I had totally and absolutely ruined it. My wishes to change him and the knowledge he would not change, had ruined our chance of a happy marriage. So I ran as far away as I could, within reason. The baby kicked me.

I looked down. "But you were there, weren't you? Even then." I'd run off Danny Steele and pursued Martin, that is, as much as he'd let me. But the man could be so shy, rude, standoffish, so… so Martin. But when he convinced himself to be sweet, boy was he! Those memories would not fade easily, but the thought that I had thrown away that chance… my entire fault.

I really loved Joan Norton, knowing her all my life, and even locking Theo Wenn in the chicken coop I could forgive after a while. But Martin, how can I forgive you?

Another woman, a smart doctor no less, had shown up, and she was on old friend, in fact she was Martin's first love. But I haven't heard or seen any real affection there, and Martin is so private, anything would be out of sight. But Edith clearly was interested in him. My radar went off every time I saw her, and that sweet little superior smile of hers was loaded with venom each time she looked at me. Didn't she understand that Martin didn't want me? That Edith was who he wanted now?

I hugged myself and the mirror image did the same. My eyes were still red-rimmed and worry lines were around them and on my forehead.

I had hoped that Martin would take me back. Not just because of my pregnancy but because I needed him. I needed him, unlike what I'd told him the other night. I did need him. God I needed him so much. Tears started again.

Time after time I told Martin that I didn't want his help with the baby or wanted him around. God help me, he believed me. I almost believed it myself, but no more. Those lies I no longer believed.

I had a bigger responsibility to my baby though, so I had to let Martin go; too much damage done. And I hoped to God that I could take the pain.