Chapter 44 – Exit Stage Right

The movers were working on the pile of my belongings outside the cottage (fortunately it was not raining) as I set off for the village to pay outstanding bills. As I walked past Al and Bert's restaurant I resolved to keep a professional demeanor for this last trip into town. I resolved not to discuss any personal or medical issues with anyone. I'd bolt in pay the bills and get out. The movers were already whinging how there were far more book cartons than they had planned on, and they were tired, it was later then they thought, the lunch they bought at Large's didn't set well with them and so on. All the usual blather of workers who do not wish to work. I was very certain they'd much rather be lifting a brew in the pub watching football than making an honest day's wage.

I shook my head at them as they complained more about my boxes of books. "Not my problem!" I bellowed at them and walked away.

That thought brought me up short. It was nearly the very thing that Louisa had told me two months ago when she returned to Portwenn, her projecting pregnancy telling the tale of our success, as unwitting as it was, in conceiving a child.

If only I'd been able to reach Louisa – really talk to her – without our blasted stubborn pride getting in the way. Yes that must be it. I'd been searching for a word to describe our many difficulties. Pride was certainly near the top of the list. Along with being stubborn and in my case, shyness. Too many times over the past years I wished to see Louisa, speak to her, and tell her what I wanted in our relationship. I sighed at the failure of my hidden shy nature to burst out of the shell I had to construct carefully over the years. That shell of armor I worked on very hard from the time I was a small boy.

My parents, here a sneer came to my face much harsher than usual, the selfish rotten excuses for human beings that they were. Not one word of praise, certainly no love either from them, and plenty of neglect. The wretched public schools and the teasing there I had to endure was far too routine from both students and teachers. It was only through study and excellence in courses had I been able to withstand life. Even medical school was a trial of work and jealousy. Until Edith came to my side.

I was ill-prepared to deal with Edith then, but all these years later I finally was able to stand up for myself before her. I laughed aloud, making two passers-by give me an odd look. And it wasn't the way she expected or wanted was it? my internal voice commented. Well if Edith thought she could swoop into London and boss me into a sexual relationship she was mistaken.

I pulled out my mobile and flipped the cover open, thumbing the number directory. With ease I scrolled to her name. The tiny cursor lit it up the text in bold print on the white screen. I tapped the screen and the selection menu appeared.

DELETE THIS ENTRY? read the prompt.

No. I'd not delete the number. There might be a patient I needed to refer to her. My index finger made another choice.

DELETE RAPID DIAL?

Yes, I selected, and the phone did my bidding. At least I'd have to key or select the entire number. I pocketed the mobile and stepped into the Pharmacy.

Mrs. Tishell gave me an effusive welcome – too much so.

"Well, I uhm, needed to see you before I left." She smiled. "I have an outstanding bill to settle."

She lit up a bit less at the last. "Oh yes of course!" Sally pulled out her accounts book, opened it, and showed me the amount. "So London? Must be nice," she added.

I bent over the cheque book and tuned her out. Mrs. Tishell, though married, had some odd fascination with me. She fancied herself somewhat of a romantic, I suppose, based on our encounters. I just wanted to pay the bill and get on.

"Of course, not so much fun by yourself. I need someone… to invite me?"

I looked up from my writing. "Fourteenth isn't it?"

She nodded and her face fell. "Well, I know you'll probably be embarrassed by this… but I got you a little farewell gift."

I tried to keep my tone even as I answered. "Ahm. That's generous."

She turned and brought back to the counter a large clothing carton. "Just a little something I knocked up." She peeled back tissue paper and took out something large, yellow, and monstrous and held it up. "It's a jumper."

What the devil? "Ah."

"It says 'Martin' on it!"

She had stitched my name in huge black block letters across it. It was positively hideous. "Yes."

She played her hand across the letters. "Martinnnnn," she said drawing out the word.

"Ah, uhmm… thank you." I put out a hand to take it and she swiftly bolted around the counter and thrust her arms about me. I reared back as the smitten woman pulled me into a tight clinch. Then her hand grabbed my head and forced it down where she planted a gooey kiss onto my lips.

I forced myself away from the woman and blundered away.

"Goodbye, Marty!" she shouted after me as I escaped from her clutches and the Pharmacy.

As I made my way up to the Farmer's Store my heart slowed from the panic it felt and I shook my head just thinking of Sally Tishell. Given the loutishness of her husband, who I had to treat for hearing loss from mastitis, I could understand her ardor yet I shuddered at the thought of the hug and kiss from the woman! Yeccch!

At the Farmer's Store I kept my exchange with the shop keeper short and to the point. I wrote a cheque, handed it to her and walked away, even though she tried to ply me with questions about London, the new GP, and Louisa and her baby.

"Well, but it is your baby too, isn't it?" she went on at the door.

"Yes. Goodbye." I took a step into the street and there was one of Louisa's teachers, Tasha, I think. She was herding children in silly cowboy costumes from the school. She did not look fit as she sagged against a pillar after staggering up the stair.

I rushed to her. "Alright? You don't look well."

She looked up at me blearily. "Oh, yeahhh," she slurred. "Everything's great! Do you know what the average attention span of a school child is? Can you imagine how difficult it is to teach even the most basic of dance routines to children? It's like explaining algebra to a goldfish."

"You're slurring your speech. Have you been drinking?"

"No, never touch it." She was taking deep inspirations through her nose, most odd.

"Feeling light headed or dizzy?"

"No. It's nothing." She ran a hand over her face. "I've always suffered from low blood pressure if you must know. Part of a burden to bear… it's not easy being an artiste in this town."

"If your symptoms persist you should see a doctor. If fact… just make an appointment with the new doctor!"

"I guess you have my word, I'll do that then." She set off pushing the children before her.

I suppose they were some sort of dance thing for Harbor Day. Likely to be ghastly.

"Come on kids! Come on my lovelies," she called to them.

"What's that you've got there?"

I was still holding the giant yellow jumper from Mrs. Tishell. The speaker was the same tiny girl who had bothered me at the school yesterday. Today she wore a silly straw hat and peered up at me like an animal in the zoo. She continued to badger me in the same way that some old persons and dogs have a way of sinking their teeth in and not letting go. After a short exchange I set my teeth and told her straight off. "Go away."

She went after her classmates and I was only too glad to see her leave. Fitting that my last real exchange in Portwenn would be with a snotty brat.

I stood there holding the silly jumper from Mrs. Tishell and saw my Aunt Joan's truck pull out and stop down the street by the Post Office Store. I wondered what she was doing here. We'd said our goodbyes, such as they were, last evening.

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I'd got a call from Tasha's Tommy that he was on his way and we arranged he'd pick me up by the school. I nervously looked at my watch as he was a little late when Joan Norton drove up. Her sunny smile was refreshing to see on the day that Martin Ellingham, her nephew and the co-creator of this lump of biology I was carrying about in my uterus, was leaving Portwenn for good.

So much for my plan to come back to Portwenn two months back and ask for his help with this little package. I thought he'd be pleased about the baby. Of course I was embarrassed for not telling him months before, but my sorrow and shyness – and my independent streak got in our way.

"Everything alright?" Joan asked.

No, Joan, not alright. Martin is leaving and I'm on my own. I lied to her. "I'm just waiting for a taxi. I've got a checkup at three."

"You should have said! You know I'd have been happy to give you a lift!"

"No…" what Joan said was true. Joan was almost giddy about the baby – her great-nephew and I was glad for that. But sometimes I felt a bit like a brood mare around Joan. Was she really helping me, or just her nephew and great-nephew to be? Shame on me for thinking that at times, but I did feel it. And I'm grateful. "But everything considered I need to start being more independent and looking after myself," I added.

Joan's lips twitched. "Well… if you do need anything…"

"Sure, thank you. Bye Joan." I could see vegetables in her truck so I was sure she had deliveries to make and here the poor woman was offering to forego her business for my sake. I stood there, looking at my watch and tapping my foot. Where was Tommy? I didn't want to be late.

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I made my way to the barber and paid him off as well as the petrol station where I had an account and the motor repair place. This route took me quite far about the village and I got back to the cottage as the movers seemed to be finished. I'd not see Joan's truck again, nor why she had stopped where she had. No matter.

One of the moving men was reading one of my books, while the other carried a load to the van, with my Medicine Buddha on top. I whisked the book from the fat one's hands and grabbed the Buddha before it could suffer harm. "I'll take that! It's valuable!"

"Hey! We are professionals you know," the one with hair yelled.

"Yeah, yeah." I tucked the Buddha into the rear seat and pulled the seatbelt across.

"Ready to hit the road then doc?"

"Yes," I sighed. "Let me take one last look – make sure I've not forgotten anything." I lifted the lid of the bin and dropped the yellow jumper inside. As I climbed the stairs to the cottage I heard music start up at Harbor Day.

I scanned the rooms, quickly, and if I was a more sentimental man I might have stayed longer. Pauline was gone now and the surgery was empty of my things. End of the road, then. I stepped out and closed the door behind me.

I looked out over the village of Portwenn and resolved to leave all my failures here. I'd not let them or any regrets drag me into the depths. I watched the last carton go into one of the vans.

"We about ready then?" the mover asked.

As a boy I had day dreams about being on the stage. My terrace had served in some way but this play was now over. The curtain was about to come down. I looked down at my shoes then up. Time to go, Martin. "Yes… yes, we can go now." I locked the front door for the final time.

"Hey doc! Looks like someone wants to say goodbye to you." The mover smirked.

Here came Buddy, Auntie Joan's smelly little dog. "Oh, go away."

The animal ran to my feet and looked at me as if I was a giant sausage as his tail wagged about and his face open in delight. My disgust with the sight of Buddy turned into a sort of joy as Joan came huffing and puffing uphill as well.

"Oh, I'm glad I caught you. Not right… not right to leave without someone to wave you off. Bye Martin!"

I'd thought our supper last night was our goodbye, but I was pleased to see Aunt Joan all the same. Joan stepped close and held out her arms for a hug. I disdained physical forms of affection in public and for that matter was not much comfortable in private either.

I submitted to her embrace – the woman I once wished was my mother. I kept a straight face, my arms barely around her, and suffered her clinch with embarrassment. My biggest fear was that I would do or say something foolish. I also felt a tear forming in my eye. I released her and felt a sprinkle of warm liquid on my trouser leg. I looked down to see her filthy animal urinating on my shoe!

"Oh, god! Filthy animal!" I shook my foot, hoping not much had soaked in.

"Buddy!" yelled Joan. "Bad dog - bad dog!"

I hustled to the Lexus and belted in before something far worse happened. It was too fitting that as the removal vans drove away and I followed in their wake I smelled of dog pee. Farewell Portwenn, I thought. A fitting departure to the pain I had suffered, as well as caused here.

My mind, though, I set on the long way ahead to London. I drove down to the end of the road, just at the verge of the harbor, looked to the left and saw Tasha, Louisa's teacher, dancing in front of the kids I'd seen earlier. Seemed odd to me that the teacher was dancing with them, but I am no art critic.

I looked forward and saw the vans drive off, my departure not well heralded at all by the village. But perhaps the denizens of the village would see that this Harbor Day was the day they were well rid of Doc Martin.

I looked to my left again, to see Tasha stop dancing, hold a hand to her head and collapse in a heap. I could not get the Lexus stopped fast enough so I could leap out to assist her.