CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN 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.

Thank you for reading. Your reviews and comments are most appreciated.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

"James, please come back to bed and show me more of what we were saving for the honeymoon."

We were finally able to leave the celebration around 11:00. I had arranged with Abbycabs in Wadebridge to carry us to the Metropol Hotel in Padstow, where I had booked a sea-view room for two nights. I was not going to trust our transport to any townsperson. My parent's wedding night is legend. We had two weeks with no responsibility and were going to take full advantage of it. Thus we could travel on Monday at a leisurely pace and take the passenger ferry to the Isle of St. Martin in the Isles of Scilly. We could have flown off to Monaco or Barcelona but all we really wanted was a quiet place to just be together, away from any pace faster than a walk.

"James, come on come back to bed. The view of the sea is breathtaking from here. I could stay here all day. Maybe we will."

"Alright, be right there. I have just discovered an envelope addressed to us that someone must have slipped into my suitcase."

I slipped under the covers next to Emily and leaned against a large pile of pillows.

She cuddled next to me and I opened the letter. I read aloud,

Dear James and Emily,

We did not want to take any lustre from your special day so we waited to share our news until now. On Sunday afternoon we are to be married at High Trees. Father Luk agreed to perform the ceremony, with only family and friends from High Trees present.

After two years of letters and visits Hamish asked me to come live with him in Aberdeen. He told me if he only had one day left on this planet he wanted to spend it with me. Romance is not limited to the young! I, of course, have felt the same although a firm decision was a bit long in coming. Your mum, James, has been the great encourager in all of this. I think she is more over the top than I am.

When I suggested there did not have to be a wedding, Hamish's daughters insisted. We should be an example to the grandchildren. I suppose you can't have us living in sin. Frankly at our age the idea of sinning sounds a bit exciting. You may not want to picture that.

Enjoy your honeymoon and your life together. You are two of the most deserving people I know. I wish you every happiness.

All my love,

Aunt Ruth

We lay holding each other watching the placid blue ocean and and even bluer sky.

I told Emily what she could not have known

"You know, this is not a great surprise. I am very happy for them. You do not know it but Ruth and Hamish knew each other when they were in their 20's. For some reason they drifted apart and went their separate ways. His wife passed some years ago and he and Ruth have reconnected. Finding love again after all these years is very rare I imagine."

"I do love your Aunt Ruth and this is the best news. I can only hope that they are as happy as we are, James."

With that she cuddled even closer, and we looked forward to the day with the "Do Not Disturb" sign hanging on the door.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

We were having tea on a lovely June morning. All at table agreed the lemon teacake was delicious. Isla came by and handed me some mail. "Ruth, looks like you have a secret admirer in Scotland." She would have noted the return address, of course. She had married a Portwenn fellow she met in the military, but she was all Scottish. She is loved by all here. I noted the letter and my heart skipped a beat, no three beats. I did my best to hide my surprise and said, "Oh, that would be something. I think it just an advertisement, probably for life insurance. Isla, could you trade these scones for more tea cake?" My friend, Judith saw the ploy and would prod me in private for the truth of the matter.

15 June 2033

Dear Ruth,

No doubt this letter will come as a bit of a surprise. I did a bit of sleuthing and found out your are in Portwenn and decided to write. It has been so many years since we last saw each other.

You know the old saying that marriages are made in heaven and there is one woman for each man. I know that to be absurd. I have had the gift of loving twice. While I know we eventually drifted apart, we did have a special relationship. Then one day at the library at the University of Edinburgh I picked up a dropped book and handed it to its owner. It happened to be Wei Ting, the woman who would be my wife for 43 years. Four years ago she passed away from cancer and the sun went down in my life. She urged me not to be alone but no one could take her place and alone I have been. In the end she even said, "Where do you suppose your old college friend Ruth is? You should try to contact her." So finally, that is what I am doing. I do hope you do not feel this to be intrusive. It has taken sometime to allow myself to do this. It would be nice to hear how you are and perhaps correspond a bit.

I am reasonably well and do hope I may hear from you. This is not about resurrecting the past, but about living again in the present.

Hamish

8 July 2033

Dear Hamish,

Surprise would not quite capture my emotions upon receiving your letter. Certainly you are remembered but one tends to suppress hurtful memories. Distance did not make the fire burn brighter. It went out, didn't it? I do not sow blame. What is past is past. A mutual friend at university, I believe it was Alice Sawyer, told me of Wei Ting. I assure you I only wished you every happiness.

I am deeply sorry that you have lost her to death.

I found myself in Portwenn when I inherited a farm from my sister. I lived in town a number of years and now am at High Trees, a lovely manor house for old coots who are waiting on God. The farm is now owned and managed by a man I chose to mentor, and his good family.

For over 30 years I worked as a forensic psychiatrist at Broadmoor Hospital. I thought early on I might go into child and adolescent psychiatry. Ironically I think I did. Many of my patients had the mind of a child, but no conscience. I did choose the most unsafe branch of medicine. My cause extempore has been promoting treating the criminally insane with respect and serious care.

There was no romance in my life after "us," unless you want to count fixations on me by patients I treated at Broadmoor. One patient even stalked me all the way to Portwenn. Fortunately he is back under Her Majesty's care in Bracknell.

You may consider this letter a response to your invitation. I would welcome hearing from you and knowing about your life in Aberdeen. At least we can argue about who has the worst weather. Do write again soon.

Ruth

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

I am sure Hamish was a bit anxious when he did not hear from me right away. Did I really want to connect again after so many years and two very divergent lives? There was a bit of an emotional tingle when I realized who the letter was from. I didn't know that feeling was possible at my age. Well, it is. I had told Louisa about Hamish many years before so I decided to see what she thought.

"Ruth I know I am an old romantic, but you must write him. My gosh, this is not a marriage proposal. It is an old friend wanting to hear from you. Do you remember when you were such a help to Martin and me when we feared our relationship could not survive? You told me then one of the greatest regrets of your life was following your head and ignoring your heart. You and Hamish had something together and you lost it. What does your heart say, Ruth?"

"I have a good life Louisa. Moving here and working with Al and having such a tie to you and Martin and your wonderful children gave me new life after my career in the prison. I have friends at High Trees."

"Ruth, what does your heart say?"

"It tells me I must write Hamish. He is quite lonely. I must not ignore him."

"Well, there you are. Sorted. Please call me tomorrow and tell me you have posted a letter."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

15 July 2033

Dear Ruth,

Your letter was so welcome. I have to say when I saw it in the post I honestly had a bit of a flutter. Kid's stuff for an old man. I have been in Aberdeen for many years now. Wei Ting was a very busy gynaecologist here, and here we raised our daughters. Peggy and Sarah live here in Aberdeen and Barbara is in Ashtead, which is quite close. They are all married and I have seven grandchildren who are at all ages and stages of life. I live at Seaview Place which may be similar to High Trees. My flat has two bedrooms so I can have a space for my studio, as I still do some sculptures...

And thus began a regular correspondence between Hamish and me. With much time on our hands we wrote quite a lot in each letter. Over several months we shared details of life past and present and gradually talked about how we felt about life and eventually began to be more personal. It was an area in which I know we both were treading lightly.

There was an area that Hamish was avoiding and I suspected it was caution on his part, but I decided to make my feelings very clear. I recall telling him in one of my letters,

Hamish, I want you to speak to me of Wei Ting. I would so like to know about her and your life together. She has to be a part of who you are. What you love is important to me. To the extent you are comfortable, please do this for me. It would mean a great deal.

That opened vistas in our writing we could not have imagined. Additionally it helped me understand his children and grandchildren.

Something we both had in common was that we were in reasonably good health for our ages and could be involved in the lives of those close to us. I spent some time every week on the farm with Al and Morwenna. I loved watching Joan putting her horse through its paces. Martin and Louisa often had me round for a meal. Hamish taught art to underprivileged children and had some private students who came to his residence. He was often with his daughters' families.

Summer was waning and the leaves were changing. The weather was becoming quite blustery. In late October I received my weekly letter from Hamish with a query that was inevitable, given the depth our correspondence had taken.

Surely you have considered the possibility of our seeing each other. At times I think of little else. Are you willing to pursue the possibility with me? You know you would be welcome here. I have been talking with my daughters about our writing. If it were a school holiday it is possible one of my grandchildren could accompany me to Portwenn. Forgive my presumption, but tell me if you feel similarly.

Naturally this had been on my mind too. Hamish was always the free spirit and I the practical one. I really did want to see him and test the feelings I was having, but my pragmatism took over and I did not really want us to travel with the uncertainty of weather. This is not what Hamish wanted to hear but I thought it most impractical for us to plan such a trip in either direction before spring. So I explained my feelings and there was the issue of our health.

I, like you, want us to be together, but I think it unwise presently. I have been unwell of late. It is a respiratory issue and I hope it is resolved soon as it leaves me without any energy whatsoever. In addition to the uncertainty of the weather and the roads, I want us to be at the top of our game health-wise when we travel. You are very special to me and I regret all this, but I really think it best if we put it off for now.

He was disappointed, of course, but his response was to send me a beautiful bouquet of roses.

It turned out to be a very wicked winter. There was not only high winds and much rain but even flooding in the low-lying areas. We were high and dry at High Trees and I seldom went into town. I so looked forward to Hamish's letters.

They were filled with humor and even a poem or two. Ever the funny romantic, my Hamish. Did I say that? "My Hamish." Well I suppose to use an old saying we were a bit sweet on each other.

Unfortunately in January my health took a turn for the worse. I stayed in touch with Martin and told him I was feeling quite horrible. He came to see me and after conferring with Dr. Cox, the local GP, he decided I should be in hospital. My respiratory issues had turned into viral pneumonia. I felt so miserable that I had no desire to eat or tend my house or even write letters. I had no idea the fallout that would follow this.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Martin was spending much time at the hospital with Aunt Ruth and thus was not home when a call came in from the Portwenn Surgery. "Oh, Mrs. Ellingham, this is Jenifer. We received a call asking for Dr. Ellingham. A Mr. Morgan called and asked me to request that Dr. Ellingham call him." Dr. Cox had a lovely and efficient assistant and it was always pleasant speaking with her. I asked her why this Mr. Morgan did not just make an appointment. "Well, he said he was in Scotland and needed to speak with Dr. Elllingham."

The penny dropped. I was not used to hearing Hanish referred to as "Mr. Morgan." "Thanks much Jenifer. I believe I know who it is. We'll contact Mr. Morgan."

I rang off with Jenifer and decided it best to call Hamish right away. I dialed the number and there was an instant answer. "Hello. Is this Dr. Ellingham? Hamish Morgan speaking."

"No, Hamish, this is Louisa, Dr. Ellingham's wife. Martin is out right now and having received your message I wanted to respond. I imagine you are calling about Ruth."

"Yes. Yes I am. I did not receive a letter this week. Is Ruth alright? Is anything wrong?"

"Hamish, I hate to tell you but Ruth is in hospital. She has pneumonia and Martin and our local physician thought it best for her to be taken care of at the Royal Cornwall in Truro. Martin is with her now and hopefully will bring news of her progress this afternoon."

"Mrs. Elllingham...

"Hamish, no formalities. Please call me Louisa. Ruth has said so much to me I feel like I know you even though we have yet to meet."

"Well, Louisa, this is the worst news. I feel like I should be there. Perhaps I could make arrangements to come."

Oh, my. How was I to head this off? A visit now would not be good for many reasons. The weather is atrocious and the roads are always chancy. One never knows when a slick spot will appear. This ninety year old man should not make a journey of over 600 miles now. Even flying to Newquay one still has over an hour's drive to Portwenn. And I knew Ruth would not want Hamish to see her in her current condition.

"Hamish, you do not want to hear this, but do not come now. Coming now would be extremely unwise. When things are improved we look forward to your visit. Ruth speaks of little else. She told me she hopes to see you in the spring.

Hamish responded and I could tell it was difficult for him to control his emotions.

"But Louisa, this illness. It changes everything. Ruth means so much to me. What if... What if I were to never see her again? I cannot bear the thought."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Dear Readers: You may think this is a bit farfetched with Ruth and Hamish in their 90's. Of course Dame Eileen June Atkins would be 99 in 2033 which would be a bit much. But in the canon Ruth has retired and moved to Portwenn so that could put her in her 60's which would make my story plausible. Hiram Lackey was a farmer from Rose Hill, Kansas. I knew him personally. He was in his 90's and still worked his fields on his tractor. Ruth and Hamish are of the ilk of Hiram Lackey. Tough old birds you might say.

I owe a big thank you to Snowsie2011 for loaning me Ruth and Hamish. Her story, of course, inspired their relationship in this story. And I would be remiss if I did not also thank Reallybodmin for bringing us Luk and his family who have been prominent in recent chapters.