Rescue

Joe, chivvied along by Joan Norton, felt emboldened as he parked the police Land Rover parked at the Rough Tor path car park. The Large's van pulled in nearby, followed by Chippy's truck. Martin's Lexus sat there darkened and empty, a testament to its missing owner and his wife.

As the men emerged from the vehicles, Joan counted them off in her head. There was Joe of course, Al and Bert, Chippy and Mike Chubb. Five, plus herself and all were heavily bundled up. It now was fully dark and had been for over two hours, combined with dense fog and a biting wind. She sighed to herself; this will not be any fun at all. The men gathered around and though they might be the best of the village, her heart sank; but they would have to do. "Right!" she announced as they pulled out torches and turned them on. They all turned to stare at her. "Um, Joe, what do you think? How best to search?"

Joe stood straighter since she had asked him. He cleared his throat and said, "Now, men… and Joan… we understand that the missing parties – the Doc and Louisa – got a report that they are on the south side of the peak over there... in the fog and dark… somewhere. And how we're going to find em? I don't know. Might have to call in even more ground forces, and maybe the RNLI chopper with heat sensor on the nose." He shrugged. "But if we wait, it might not be good."

Joan cleared her throat. "Thank you for that Joe. Now, Martin told me they are took shelter, somewhere below the peak on the south side."

Al raised his hand.

"Al?" she asked.

"Uhm, right, Mrs. Norton, I'm thinking the shortest way is up straight to the top and go down from there? If we circle around out there on the right," he pointed to his right and off the path, "we'll just wander around and get lost ourselves."

Joe rubbed his face and yawned. "That's one way... but I was thinking if we spread out arms width apart, we could just walk along…'til we find 'em."

"And get lost just like them," Chippy interrupted. "But I like your plan, Mrs. Norton." He looked around brightly. "So, let's get on with it." He took a black watch cap out of his pocket and jammed it down over his head, tucking his longish hair into it.

Joe sighed.

"Problem, Joe?" Mike asked, the short man reaching about up to Joe's shoulder.

"No," Joe shook himself. "Right! Up the hill men! Single file, straight up the path."

Good old Joe, Joan thought, not much of a leader – but he could be led to make the proper choice. "As you say, Joe."

"And Mrs. Norton, best you stay here at Base Camp."

Joan smiled, as she tugged her coat closer about her neck. "Fine with me, PC Penhale."

Penhale half saluted her. "Good, good, that's good," Joe replied. "So…"

Joan tipped her head to look up the hill, to where the search party was starting to disappear in the fog. "Off you get, now."

Joe gulped, but turned to the task.

He brightened at her confirmation of his command. "Onward!" he shouted as he followed the other men up the slope.

=0=0=0=

Martin looked at his glowing watch for the twentieth time. "Almost eight."

Louisa had almost been dozing wrapped in his arms. "Goodness. It's that late?"

"Yes," he sighed, as he peered around. The fog slithered past their half-shelter, encasing them in the damp mist. He wiped his face, when he realized that water was starting to drip onto Louisa's hair.

Louisa stretched and yawned. "Martin, I am sorry." What a sorry mess as well. "Should have stayed at home."

"Hm, yes. I know. You've said that several times." Around eight times to be more accurate. "I have accepted your apology. So, you do not have to keep saying it."

"A very bad honeymoon so far," she replied. "I wanted this to be fun; have fun."

Martin realized that her definition of fun was quite different from his. Fun was polishing a corroded clock gear or finish the article he had started in the BMJ about 'Delayed Pregnancy Signs in a 39-Year-Old Primagravida. "And we agreed that we didn't have to go away on a honeymoon. Besides I have work and so do you."

Work, thought Louisa. She would take work and a long boring district staff meeting instead of this sorry evening. "Maybe Spain would have been better," she muttered. "Sun, warm water, a sandy beach…"

Martin cleared his throat. Beaches. He didn't like beaches. They were dirty and chaotic. The water was filled with microorganisms, and any manner of flotsam lay on the shore ready to pierce and slice bare skin. "But we said…"

She looked up at his face in the dimness, and she could barely make out his profile. "Still, you never take time away from your practice, and they must owe you leave time."

Martin cocked his head. "True, but I do not need leave."

"No? But you must need relaxation – time for your self – beyond working on clocks."

He thought about that. "I'm perfectly happy as I am."

She turned a bit to face him more fully. "Hm. But you weren't, were you? Why else ask me to marry you?" Louisa new this might be dangerous territory, but she had to know. No time like the present.

"Louisa, I… I… I admire you… and," he stopped. "After yesterday, I'd think my feelings were obvious."

She touched his face tentatively in the dark. "Yes. We got married, but you need to say more than the obvious." She sighed. "Martin, look, if we don't get out of this, or one of us doesn't, then I want to know. A lot of people get married for all the wrong reasons." She flashed on her parents and what Martin had grudgingly told her about his. "Did we? Have we?"

"Have we what?" He wracked his brain, wondering what she was getting at. "Louisa, I'm not quite sure what you want me to say." He could feel the ring about his finger, seemingly heavy on it.

She took a deep sigh. "What if I… we… didn't get married? Just jilted one another? How would that make you feel?"

He felt her hand on his cheek, his whiskers scratchy even to him. He was cold, wet and lost and his wife wanted to discuss feelings? "It would be… difficult," he said, if only to get her to stop this line of inquisition.

She pressed herself against him. "Me too. I had been thinking… when I was writing that letter for you… that I'd likely leave."

"Leave?"

"Yep. Seeing you every day, would be… hard." She felt tears in her eyes as she said it. The village was her home. Leaving would be horrible, but not as awful as staying in Portwenn with the man she'd left at the altar.

Martin sighed then hoisted her up so he could feel her face against his. "Louisa… but we got married."

"What if we hadn't?"

"Uhm… that would be an alternative path to our lives. But we did. We are married."

She nodded and he felt her face move against. "I know." Yesterday; their wedding, and the love making in the early hours was very busy. She'd not actually had a moment to really think about what it meant. Her time with Danny long ago didn't mean anything, just a teenage dalliance. The two boys in London at Uni? That was just companionship and some sex. But with Martin? He was intelligent, stable, had a profession – and a respected one – and was a good earner. But did any of that matter if she didn't love him? If she loved him? My God, Louisa, what are you thinking? Of course, she loved him. But at times he could be hard to be around. "Martin, I love you, and I do think…"

He heard that she was almost snuffling. Martin started to ask why, when he heard a faint cry in the distance. "What the hells that?" he cried.

"What?" she replied.

"Shhh, listen!"

The sound; it was a voice - a voice sounded again, and they both shouted out, as one, "We're here!"

"Doc! Louisa!" they heard faintly, and they could tell it was Al Large. There was another voice as well. Was that Chippy shouting?

"Here we are!" Louisa stood up and shouted. "We're here!"

Martin moved his stiff legs to stand as well. "Al?"

In a moment, Al Large and Chippy Miller emerged from the fog.

"Louisa! Doc!" Chippy shouted, as he pounded Martin on the back.

Al was gentler with the Head Teacher, taking her hands. "You two okay?"

"We're fine, right Martin?" she told him.

Martin managed to push the clinging Chippy away. "Yes, we're fine, all fine. Both fine," he spat out.

"Your aunt got ahold of Joe, who called us. He and Mike Chubb are up top, holding their torches as beacons," Al explained. He eyed the pair of them. "You look cold."

"Louisa and I are shivering, yes," Martin told him. "But the exercise of the climb will restore our body temperatures."

"So, you'll warm up," Chipper chuckled.

Martin bristled. "I just said that."

Louisa laughed. "Oh, we're just glad to see you two!"

"Come on then," Chippy told her. "Here." He handed her a small torch. "Might find this useful."

Their footsteps lit by three electric torches the four turned and began to slog uphill.