CHAPTER FORTY FIVE 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.

Have you ever wondered about Louisa's parents, Eleanor and Terry Glasson?

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

I am in bed, thankful for the oxygen tank Martin brought me. I lay here, glad the long journey is over and I am where I want to be, need to be. I hope Louisa and Martin have the same opinion. Exhausted from the day, I should fall asleep straight away but my mind begins to wander randomly. The pile of regrets that surround me are many, but it is nothing I dwell on anymore. Nothing to be done about the mess I've made of things.

It felt strange sitting by Terry at James's wedding. Not uncomfortable, but strange after God knows how many years. I think we can be friends or at least friendly with each other. There are no more fights to fight. I want to see him, I think, and soon. With that I remembered the night he came into my life.

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"Ellie, your father and I have been worried sick. Where have you been?...And who is this? Holy Mary mother of God! What happened?"

There we were standing outside my family's flat. I had just come from hospital where I had taken this boy, who I had never met, to be treated for multiple injuries. He told me his name was Terry. My mother's shock was justified. He had a broken nose, his head had a long gash with stitches and he had been kicked so badly he could hardly stand.

"Mum, I can explain but can we get Terry in a chair? He's very unsteady."

There wasn't much she could do, but let us in. Then my dad came from the bedroom and saw all the confusion. "Roberta, is that Ellie...What in the hell is going on and who is this?"

"Bob, just help 'im sit down and Ellie can tell us what's goin' on."

"She better explain. Ya can't just come in here in the middle of the night dragging in a bloke who got the short end of it."

It was a bit of time before any explanations could be given. Terry began bleeding again from his nose and head. With a sheet of plastic on the sofa he was finally lying with wet towels covering his head. It was hard for him to talk because he'd been struck in the jaw more than once.

I finally tried to tell my parents what happened. "I was outside the youth center when these three miserable blokes come up and start teasing me. One of them was touching me and I was afraid. This boy comes up and tells them to stop, to leave me alone.

They told him to sod off and when he didn't they started pushing and hitting him. When he fell one of them kicked him, kicked him hard. I heard one of them yell, "Coppers!" and that set them running.

I was afraid they might arrest Terry so I told them he was my brother and he was trying to defend me. They called an ambulance and I went to hospital with him. He said he'd just got into town and had nowhere to go. I didn't know what to do so I brought him here."

It was my dad who said, "Well he can't do no one harm in that condition. He can stay the night and we'll sort this tomorrow."

My parents were very protective so when I suggested I sleep in the big chair my mother responded with, "You'll do no such thing. Go to bed and if he needs tendin' to, I'll see to it proper."

And that's how I met Terry Glasson. He came to Liverpool looking for work on the docks. He was from a village, Moorby near Horncastle in Lincolnshire, from a working class family. His mother wanted him to finish his Sixth Form but he dropped school after receiving his General Certificate. He had conflicts with his family so when a friend told him he could find a job in Liverpool he jumped at the chance to get away.

My mum took a ferry from Dublin to Liverpool when she was 16. She met my dad at a dance and they married within a year. Being a strict Irish Catholic, they were married in the church. My dad said he was a Christian, but not very religious, an understatement by any standard. Dad was a postman and mum cooked for a public school. I was a true Liverpudlian. I thought I would spend my whole life in Liverpool, until I met Terry Glasson.

No one had ever stood up for me like Terry did that night at the youth center. He had an innocent charm and it was easy to like him. My parents even warmed to him, thankful for his kindness to me. He ended up staying with us for a week. We found his friend from home and he moved in with him, close to the docks where he found a job.

We were sweethearts. If we weren't working, we were together. Life was busy because I did child-minding and worked at a small food store. Terry was at the docks six days a week. After some months he wanted us to move in together. The one check in this situation was my mother. I told Terry we couldn't live together unless we were married. I remember his response.

"You're kidding. Everyone does it now."

"No Terry, not everyone," I told him. "I know my Mum and I do not want to go through the hell it would cause if we just hooked up. I want to be with you but we have to get married."

Well, it was not just a trip to the registrar, I knew Mum would want me to marry in the church. For that to happen we had to counsel with the priest because Terry was not Catholic. He was a smooth talker in any situation, and he said all the right things. The priest agreed to marry us.

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I lay here remembering our happy days. It was young love and it was foolish love. We lived in a small bed sit. Our days were filled with work and our nights with fun and bliss. Sundays found us in the park or at a free concert. Our wedding was in the summer and by winter, just before Christmas, all the signs were present that I was pregnant. In late August with my Mum and a very nice midwife helping, our Louisa Roberta was born.

Life became much more complicated. We did not know all that having a child required. We moved in with my parents because we did not have enough funds to pay for the bedsit. Terry told me he had loaned money to a friend and was short on funds.

I wanted us to have our own flat because it was tense living with Mum and Dad. We would get irritated with each other and it made me so sad. Our baby Louisa did bring us much happiness. She was a cheerful little girl. I always knew when she was about to cry because just before crying she would put her lower lip in her mouth.

I remember the night Terry came home and told me his grandiose plan for making our life better. It is the reason I am lying in this bed in Cornwall as an old woman over 60 years later.

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Terry came home from work a bit late in a very happy mood. We had a jovial supper with Mum and Dad and Louisa entertained us royally. We made very happy love that night and in the afterglow Terry gently shocked me with the words,

"Ellie, I have been talking to a man at the docks who has a boat. He is about to travel to a little village in Cornwall. He told me he knows a farmer I could work for and there are many jobs working on the fishing boats there. It won't cost us a lot to live. It would be so much better than here in Liverpool. I grew up in a small town, and I know it is easier to live there. I think we should go with him."

I was dropped from our mountain of ecstasy to reality in an instant. "Terry, we can't do that. I don't want to leave my parents. I don't want to leave Liverpool. Not a good idea. You have a decent job and I can work. We can have our own place again. Please, let's just stay here."

"Eleanor, there's something else. I owe some money to some blokes who are making threats. It would be good to leave 'til I can pay them. After I get the money we could come back if you want to."

"Terry, why do you owe them money? I thought someone owed you money."

"Look Ellie, sometimes I play cards and I lost a few times. They loaned me money and I thought I could pay them when I won some hands. Now I owe too much and they're making it hard on me. Look, we can come back, but let's go to this nice village for awhile. This guy said we could go with him and he's leavin' in two days."

"Terry, you're crazy. You want me to get ready and take our baby and leave my family...in two bloody days."

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And that is how I came to leave Liverpool. I don't know if Terry ever intended on returning, but we never did and I never have. Ten years in Portwenn and by a twist of fate I spent the rest of my life in Spain. Oh, there were short visits to see Mum and Dad, but I never lived in Liverpool again. It makes me a bit sad even thinking on it all these years later.

I remember that morning when we left with Louisa and our life in three bags. My Mum and I were in tears. We had to take a taxi to the docks where the boat was which would take us away. I remember walking toward this boat and a smiling man coming out to meet us. He walked up to me and very kindly said,

"You must be Ellie. I'm John. John Slater. Welcome aboard. We'll set sail soon."

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Dear Readers: If you like this story about our favorite family some 25 years after Season 6, I believe you would like another story written from an even later perspective.

If you have not done so, look for the story 'Til Death Do Us Part by Sendibo and have another very enjoyable read. And thank you again for reading my words and sharing reviews and thoughts.