CHAPTER THIRTY ONE 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.

I remind you that these thoughts and remembrances have their source in the musings and conversations of Louisa and Joan who are on holiday in France. We rejoin them in this chapter.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

After several days in Paris we were ready to be away from the city. We were country girls, after-all. I had mentioned to Joan that we should stay a bit longer than planned since nothing was pressing on us to return home. Well, nothing except Martin, of course. She was enthused to have more days together in France. She was also more than enthused that I would be the one to inform her father of our plans. Our last night in Paris I called Martin. In the course of the conversation I told him of our plans. His response was predictable, but not direct of course. He would never say he simply wanted us home.

"Louisa, I just am not sure that is a good idea. Are you sure the car will hold up? Joan should be here to care for her horse. Besides, I thought you had some loose ends to tie up following the wedding. Have you actually thought this through? Where will you be staying? It's much better to plan ahead so you can check on the reliability of lodging. Where will you be?"

"Actually, we thought we would just meander through Normandy on the less-travelled roads. I imagine we will stay in some bed and breakfasts in small villages."

"Louisa, you cannot be certain of cleanliness in those places. You don't even know if they washed the bed clothes after the last guests used them. There's no telling what vermin and insects may be present."

"Oh, my dear Martin, it will be fine. We want to end up on the coast visiting the memorials for D-Day and the British cemetery at Bayeux. I know you want us home Love. I promise when we return, you and I will have a few days to ourselves. Why don't you see when our favorite cottage* on the coast is available. Be a dear now, and don't take it too hard. Joan and I are so enjoying our time together. Have you heard from James?"

"No, of course not. I really don't expect to. I suppose I must reluctantly give in to your wishes. Do call me when you get settled tonight."

And so it was that we found ourselves that afternoon in Villequier, a small nondescript town, at least as far as the tourist brochures were concerned. We thought it quaint and just what we were looking for. We found a house with a room and bath to let. It was small but adequate and the owners Monsieur and Madame Baptiste, were lovely. Gratefully, Joan could communicate. Being only a two hour drive from Paris, we had a good bit of time in the afternoon and took a leisurely walk.

As we walked the hanging baskets of fuchsia and begonia were dripping water from an earlier shower onto the cobblestones. Laundry drying on lines could be seen behind the houses. It was as if we had stepped into another era. Cars were parked here and there but seemed embarrassed to be out of place. A stark reality invaded my mind as I thought about jack-booted soldiers commanding these streets and the peaceful citizens. The peaceful setting belied the suffering that had to have taken place. I guess this was on my mind since I had talked with my dad about visiting the war memorials.

"Mum, where are you? I think I've lost you again. It seems like when we are walking your mind is in its own universe."

"I'm sorry Joan. I am playing Word Association in my head. One thought leads to another and I'm in another world. Do you remember when we took you and James to see the Imperial War Museum in London?"

"Of course I do. How could you forget that? I wish I could erase some of those images from my mind. In year six we had to read poems about war by Wilfred Owen. They were so real and stark. It was hard to finish the assignment."

"Your dad and I wanted you to know why you enjoy such a good life now. It was not an accident and it was not without great cost. These people here experienced something we never did at home."

"What was that? It was pretty bad at home, wasn't it?"

They had German troops here hurting and harassing. By some miracle and great effort they were prevented from crossing the Channel. We will see the war memorials on the coast in two days."

"I don't think we who are young think about that much. There are always wars and fighting, but they're far away."

"Alright daughter, enough of that for now. We will have supper with our hosts tonight, but I could fancy a sweet." I looked at the time. "Well there you are I knew it was time for tea. Let's find a cafe. Now the center of town must be in that direction. I hope I'm right."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Madame Baptiste prepared a very nice supper of veal stew. She invited Mum and me to sit at table with her and her husband. It really stretched my conversing in French but we were able to enjoy each other in this very small but welcoming home. They apologized for the small bathroom and in the course of speaking of that explained that the door was once a bookcase hiding a room where the Resistance in World War Two coordinated efforts against the Nazis. This begged for questions and conversation and Mum asked Monsieur Baptiste if he would tell us more over breakfast.

We had begun our day in Paris and walked a good bit so excused ourselves. We were more than ready to lie down and sleep.

"Mum, I am really tired. I know you have to be exhausted. Why don't you take your bath first?"

So it was not long before Mum came out of the bathroom. There was no room to dry off and dress so she stepped on to the carpet in the bedroom to finish drying and put on her night clothes.

At this point a word about decorum in the Ellingham house is in order. One was to always be dressed appropriate to the occasion. To come to the table not fully groomed and dressed warranted a return trip to remedy the fault. Thankfully Dad did not require of us what he took for granted for himself. Mum said she remembered a time when he went into the woods to treat a patient in his suit and tie and wing tips. There was the day when James ran from his room in only his pants to get a quick snack from the kitchen. He was apprehended on the return trip and let's just say at that point he was grateful the bastille was a French institution.

With Mum and I it was somewhat different. At times we showered together when I was a child. So for her to come into the room disrobed did not affect our comfort level at all. But as many times as I had seen Mum in this state, I do not know why this night my eyes fell to her chest. I was overwhelmed with a feeling I had to express.

"Mum, you are the bravest woman I could ever know!"

As she pulled up her knickers and slipped on a night shirt she said, "Joan, what in the world brought that on?"

"I know I've seen you a hundred times but seeing you tonight just brings it all back for some reason I can't explain. What you went through was so hard and so amazing."

"Well, Joanie, I can tell you when I think about it, "brave" is not the word I would use. It was a time of fear for me. I wanted to grow old with your father and see you and James grow up. I was so afraid that might not happen. I could never have survived it all without my family and our friends."

"But how Mum? How could you deal with losing part of what makes you a woman? I would think it would still weigh on you. I mean, it is a big deal, isn't it?"

"No Joan, it's not. I can't say I didn't have many mixed emotions at the time. At times I was an emotional wreck, but what makes you a woman is in your soul, deep within you. Let me tell you about the big deal. I have not had any evidence of cancer in my body in over ten years. That's the big deal. I had dinner with Monsieur and Madame Baptiste in Villequier, France tonight. My husband kisses my scars and tells me I am beautiful and I believe him. But I do not put down your compliment. If I was brave, it was with your help."

"Oh Mum, I love you so much."

"I know you do and it means so much. I am going to crawl into bed now. Why don't you get get a quick bath and join me? We can look forward to a few unscheduled days wandering through Normandy."

"Good. I won't be long. Good night Mum."

"Good night Joan."

And as Louisa laid her head on her pillow that night it was impossible for her not to recall the words of the physician that day that seems so distant now. "Mrs. Ellingham we believe that a bilateral mastectomy will yield the best possible results."

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

*In the story A Long Way Martin and Louisa meet at a quaint cottage on the Cornwall coast. I have that cottage in mind here.