Doc Martin doesn't belong to me. How I wish he did! I'm just taking him and the others out to play. I hope you enjoy.
"How was it?" Louisa wanted to know when he returned home.
"Er…um….fine," he replied quietly.
She recognized his discomfort and for once didn't push. "You liked the therapist then?"
"Um…liked? He is…adequate," Martin replied warily.
"Good," she said with assurance she didn't feel. But he had gone and he said the doctor was adequate. She knew enough about the expression he was wearing to know not to probe further; it would only upset him and they'd both had quite enough of that lately. She's spent the last few months watching Martin crumble and while he was still very fragile, he seemed different in some way after his trip to Truro. Pushing wouldn't help matters. "I've bought fish for tonight. But I thought we might take a walk before…if you'd like. It is such a nice afternoon."
He considered her suggestion. "Er…em….yes; that would be …nice."
"I'll just get James then?"
Martin nodded tersely. He hoped this wouldn't turn into a question and answer session about his trip to Truro. He wasn't ready to talk about it, doubted he ever would be. But he knew she would be curious. She always wanted to know about him. He still wasn't used to the idea that anyone cared anything about him, really cared. A wisp of a thought or perhaps emotion fluttered thorough him. Was that such a bad thing really…that she wanted to know about him?
They walked the path along the cliff and slowly Martin realized she wasn't going to probe further. Unwilling to risk the baby wiggling or squirming and causing her shoulder further pain, he insisted upon carrying James. So with James firmly held captive in his right arm, they walked along side by side until after a few moments he felt feather like touches of her hand on his. It was a signal he had slowly come to recognize and he responded by enveloping her right hand in his left. The familiar calm that he felt when he touched her returned, along with the nagging dread of making a misstep.
Eventually they came upon a bench that overlooked the water. She led him to it and they sat. After making a little fuss over James, she settled back and let out a deep sigh. Martin didn't know what to make of that and his stomach clinched when she began to speak. "I know this isn't easy for you…going to the therapist and all. I do understand that much. And …" her mind seemed to wander as she sat staring out over the water.
He gave her a sideways glance, cautious of where her thoughts were leading. Not wanting to discuss his trip to the therapist any further though, he remained silent, hoping her mind would take a different turn.
"I remember when you first came here you weren't so tightly wound. You even almost smiled occasionally and…and even made jokes." He looked at her, confused as usual. He didn't remember being particularly jovial. She shrugged. "Roger told me…"
"Roger was one of the few people I met here with whom I could trade quips... jokes even. He was as sarcastic as I was. And I suppose we were both… well, shut down and it created a…an understanding."
She scoffed. "It is dry, your humor," she admitted. "It took me a long time to recognize it. You are so serious about everything and so wry when you do make a joke; it is easy to miss. But you were making jokes on our wedding night…before everything …"
"Yes, well… I was …happy." And he had been, so very happy in that little lodge alone with her. Things had gone smoothly until the damned smoke engulfed the room.
She smiled at him, really smiled, her eyes lighting her face and warming him immensely. "Yes, so was I" she said delicately. "But then…oh Martin, why did it all go so wrong?"
He looked at her, into her eyes, losing himself there. "I um…well, I was an idiot," he hesitated. Then, "You toppled me really, kept me off balance all the time, and suddenly there we were and I couldn't believe it. When I saw you at the church, in your dress… it took my breath away. And that miserable excuse for a honeymoon… I wasn't keen on the idea of one but, if you had told me you wanted one it would have been alright. I wanted to make you happy.
At first, everything was good between us. The flat in London… I didn't think. You wanted to…to put your touches on the place; most women do or so I understand. It seemed prudent to have it ready when we arrive, but I should have asked your opinion. It was all still so new to me, having someone else to think about…consider their feelings. And then I started thinking about…" his voice drifted away.
"Thinking what, Martin?"
"I'm not really equipped for relationships. I set people off all the time. I was so in love with you that it hurt sometimes and it frightened me, the feelings you created in me… still do. I thought …"
"Thought what?" She asked after he was silent for a moment.
"I thought you couldn't …it was impossible that you might feel the same about me…well, I thought it might…" tears sat in his eyes as he looked at her imploringly. "But as it turned out, you did. But I couldn't see how; how could someone like you care about someone…like me? I still don't understand. It seems I'm in the dark about it all; either that or so tongue tied I can't say what I feel. I've mucked it all up, I'm afraid."
"Yes, well…perhaps I might have been more understanding, more...patient," she suggested.
His look was one of utter surprise. "No! I think you've been quite patient …often. Other times, you seem to jump to conclusions, make assumptions. And I'm so terribly bad at saying what I'm feeling that it gets very confusing."
"Still…" she sighed.
He turned his head and looked at her fully. "Louisa, I don't want you to think…well, I mean…I know I am difficult…sometimes. And I really don't understand people. My … inability to…to grasp what it is you are saying or what you need; it isn't your fault."
"No, you're right; it isn't. But I don't help you understand; I just assume…things. And I do push you and when you don't get it, when you are so dreadfully clueless I just …I make it worse. And as for someone like me caring about some one like you… that's easy because I do. I just do. You are a very special man, Martin." She smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.
" I did a lot of thinking while you were off to Truro; I thought I should, since you were enduring that for me, for us. I thought I should do some introspection too. And I realized that day…sports day… I was pushing you too hard. You were coming apart and I could see it happening but then you kept closing yourself off from me and I was so exasperated and you were trying, albeit failing miserably to understand what I wanted and all the while just plowing through and over others… and not handling any of it very well at all. I was so frustrated with you, with me, with everything. Thing was, I don't think I knew what I wanted; not really. It was just…you had been pulling away from me; running away almost. All of my life people have been running away and…well, it frightened me and I get angry when I'm afraid and I just kept getting more and more …wound up, like a spring. We had been doing so well together and then suddenly it just all fell apart again and we were caught in this spiral, spinning out of control…spinning down until we crashed that day."
"Yes, I'm sorry. I er…um…I don't think I understand why…there were so many things going on in my head and I felt it was all crushing me. And then my mother showed up and I got even more confused. But…" Was this now the time to tell her?
"But what?" she was looking at him expectantly.
Maybe not. Maybe he should explain first. "I wasn't trying to run away…to withdraw. I thought something must be terribly wrong with me…"
"I don't understand."
"I thought I must have some dreadful illness to behave that way, throwing away my chance. I wish I could explain it all to you, Louisa. But I can't explain what I don't understand. Perhaps in time…but right now…"
She was looking up at him and he could see that she was trying to understand. But he could see her fear too. Yes, this was the time to say it. "I meant what I said that day at the castle. I meant every word of it. I do love you, so much that I can't bear the thought of not being with you. I will always love you. You are everything to me, you and James. The two of you are my life; all the rest is just…well, it's not important. I like being a doctor; I like diagnosing … things. And I enjoyed being a surgeon. But there was always something missing in my life… you. I'm not trying to run away or withdraw. I just don't know how to be a husband…or a father. I see myself… hear myself behaving like my father and I don't want to be that way but I don't know how to be different." He paused mesmerized by the way she was looking up at him, her eyes moist with tears that had gathered there. Remembering his thoughts about Edith earlier in the day, he added, "I've never felt these things before and sometimes it overwhelms me. But I am trying to change; I want to change … for you."
She simply stared at him for a moment and then looked away to the sea. "We're a fine pair…a mismatch if there ever was one. But I can't imagine ever being with anyone else, Martin. We have to make this work; we both do."
A truce seemed to settle over their cottage after that afternoon. Whenever things became too intense or too combative, they retreated to different rooms. But it was different now, Martin mused a few days later. There wasn't the anger present…just frustration. That in itself was ….maddening.