CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR REMEMBRANCE
The Characters, places and situations of Doc Martin are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This story makes no claim of remuneration or ownership, nor do I make any attempt to infringe upon any rights of the owners or producers.
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CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
Saint Endelienta was the daughter of the Welsh King Brychan. She and her siblings traveled to Cornwall to bring Christianity to the area in the fifth century. It is said she was martyred by Saxon pirates. She was buried on a hill just four miles from Portwenn. On that hill is a church, the Church of St. Endellion, an anglicized form of her name. It is in that church this day, 14 July 2035 CE, that James Henry Ellingham and Emily Kathleen Jacobs will be married.
Talan Clews was a stone cutter and mason who lived in the 13th century. For over ten years he labored on the construction of the church which would be come St. Endellion. It was a labor of his hands and his heart. With it he fed his family and also his soul. He saw the church dedicated to the glory of God and sat in a pew as the first Mass was celebrated. Not long after in his 48th year Talan died in his sleep. His was the first burial just outside the narthex door. In a sense it was not the first burial. That was St. Endelienta some 700 years before.
These are but two of the hundreds who have been laid to rest in this sacred place. The Celts would say it is a thin place where the distance between heaven and earth is narrowed. Endelienta is remembered but fact from legend can never be known. No one remembers Talan, but he touches everyone who enters this church.
An ancient text speaks of the dead as a great cloud of witnesses. That the dead touch and influence the living in some way is not a difficult thought in many cultures.
We who consider ourselves "enlightened" do not have time for such fanciful thinking in our workaday lives. But on this day of James's and Emily's wedding perhaps it is something to consider.
There is the unquestioned cloud of witnesses that make up the people who walked with these two, but who now rest in the church yard. We know through her dear nephew Martin that Auntie Joan is present. One can add Bert Large and Mr Greenlee and Mrs. Lowe, James's first music teacher. Then there is Mrs. Bosman and his school teachers, Mrs. Miller and Mrs. Woodley. John Grant who died in the diving accident when they were teens is here. The list goes on. But what of the others, the ones lost to memory? The ones whose graves are simply unmarked and unknown? What of the woman who went about doing good? Is there a way in which their having been here affects our being here? It is sheer mystery, but one would like to think that their brief breath on this earth breathes life and hope and courage into these two for whom today is a moment in time that has no end.
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It was my wedding day and I awakened after just a few hours sleep. I closed my eyes, but to no avail. I decided to get up and walk a bit. I was staying with Arthur as Emily was at our house along with her family who had arrived from the States over a week ago. I slipped out the back door into the cool damp darkness.
In our little village all roads lead to the harbour so my steps were taking me down the hill. How many times had I run over these cobblestones in carefree play? How many trips had I made to the market for Mum? And the trips up to the field for football. The innumerable practices and games. We had quite a team for a town our size. It was always in the early morning hours like this when I joined Mr. Greenlee on his boat for a day's work. Mum was fearful but Dad said it would be good for me. Mr. Greenlee's son had entered the military and needed assistance.
I never realized how exhausting working on a fishing boat can be. Mr. Greenlee was a really nice man. He would always tell me, "James, well my first mate is here. Let's see if we can get some fish today, aye?"
The early morning was pitch black with clouds obscuring whatever light might have been present. I passed the shadow of houses with just a single bulb burning here and there. As I approached the harbour I could make out a figure on the bench at the edge. I was about to skirt the area as I wanted solitude but there was something familiar about the silhouette. I knew it was Emily. She probably wanted to be alone too, but I could not go on. I quietly walked to the bench and sat down.
"You couldn't sleep either, huh?"
Emily jumped a mile. "James. Oh my gosh. You scared me to death. What are you doing here? How did you know I was here?"
"I had no idea you were here. I just couldn't sleep and decided to walk a bit. How about you?"
"The same. I slipped into Joanie's room after everyone had gone to bed and we talked late. You would think I would have been sleepy, but after two or three hours I was wide awake. It was my wedding day and I couldn't sleep. Correction James, it is our wedding day. And hey, you are not supposed to see the bride. Bad luck they say."
"Emily this is the luckiest day of my life. I think it is perfect that we are beginning this day together and we will end it together. Just us! Let's just sit awhile and then we'll get back before we are found out."
With that I put my arm around Emily and she cuddled into my chest. We spoke no words. I think the feelings inside us were better left unexpressed, but definitely not uncommunicated.
We had a gentle and lengthy kiss and parted with a, "See you in church." I wandered a bit more and as the grey light of dawn appeared I knew it was close to 5:00 and thought I had better get back. I saw Grandad in his garden picking flowers, and decided not to disturb him. I knew he was collecting flowers for the wedding.
I slipped in the kitchen at the Couch's and there was Artie drinking coffee.
"Out for a stroll mate? Make yourself a coffee."
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I turned over and roused enough to note that Louisa was not in bed. I could see her standing at the window. "Come back to bed Louisa. It's not even daylight."
"Martin. It's Emily. She is outside walking toward the house. Where do you think she has been? I hope she's not having second thoughts."
"Louisa, come back to bed. You are needlessly fretting. There will be a wedding today and you will be a mother-in-law. James and Emily do not have the uncertainty that plagued us. I think Emily could not sleep and went for a walk.
"It would not do for you to pass out at the wedding. It is hardly dawn and you have not slept sufficiently. Come now, back to bed with you."
My husband was attempting to be patient, barely. I was awake and full of thoughts. After all it was 22 years ago this very day that our son was born in that pub up on the moor.
"Can you believe that 22 years ago you were moving to London and I was going to Truro for a routine check-up and planning a life without you? It was a terrible time. How can we have been so stupid? I would not have wished any harm to Tommy, but thank God for the accident that sent us to that pub and induced our son to make his early appearance. When you said you were wrong about going to London I realized how wrong we had both been. You were afraid, but you didn't want to abandon our child. Remember your words?"
"Louisa, that whole day is indelibly etched on my mind."
"You were almost afraid to hold our son, but you said, 'I could learn.'"
"And with your help Louisa, it seems I did. Please now, come lie down."
I lay down beside Martin and placed my head on his chest. "You're right Martin. James and Emily are not like we were."
"Not like we were Louisa, but they are like we are. They have no doubts, so close your eyes for a bit. You will be wearing the mother-of-the-groom finery this afternoon."
I must have slept until well after seven. I went downstairs and Luk and Martin were having conversation over tea and toast. Natalie came in and said,
"I can't believe it. It is Emily's wedding day and she is in bed sleeping like a baby. What do you make of that?"
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At five o'clock British Standard Time the Bells of St. Endellion were tolling to call all to the wedding of James and Emily. They were heard throughout the countryside every quarter hour until six, when the ceremony was to begin. If the stones of the old church could speak, what would they say? Perhaps they are whispering, "Many have walked the aisle you walk today together. Remember, you are never alone on your journey."