Dinner

Chris and Helen suggested a restaurant, within walking distance, and well away from the crowd near the Holiday Market. Louisa agreed with their suggestion before Martin could protest.

The one they proposed was named 'Fisherman's Catch' so at least Martin felt he could eat there, but as for Louisa, well, he knew that he had taught her precautions she should take around eating seafood while pregnant.

The restaurant was nicely decorated with whitewashed walls, paintings of seascapes, and all in all attractive, or so Louisa thought. They had not overdone the nautical accessories, which usually ran too far with fishing nets, glass floats and fake fish themes.

"This looks nice," Louisa said they had been seated at a corner table. She found herself between Helen and Martin and she was looking forward to getting to know Chris's wife. She scanned the menu quickly. Mussels with prawns, nope, tuna – likewise no, ah, there. Sole.

Martin pointed to the same item on his menu, so she saw it.

Helen raised an eyebrow at their silent communication. She peered over at Louisa. Yes, as she thought. Dietary restrictions made sense with the slight puffiness of the girl's neck. And her baps definitely looked swollen for her top looked a bit tight. The buttons across the bust were straining. Either she'd washed it in hot water, or something was going on. She smiled, but right then Chris nudged her.

"What's going on?" he asked her quietly. "What are you looking at?"

"Not a thing," Helen told him.

Chris didn't pursue the exchange. He turned towards Martin. "So Mart, married and all that. I never thought… well, I didn't… imagine…"

Helen kicked him under the table, so he shut up. She turned and gave him a discreet stare as well.

"Imagine what?" Louisa asked.

"Um, yes, that we'd… run into the two of you," Chris answered.

Louisa smiled. "Portwenn doesn't have many shops, so Wadebridge seemed like a good place to shop. The Holiday Market as well."

Helen chuckled. "Oh my yes. But your village is so quaint and quiet."

Martin grunted at the memory of loud diesel motors on fishing boats, chattering girls wandering the village streets and the near constant screeching of noisy gulls.

"Not like London, is it, Mart?" Chris asked his friend.

Martin just said, "No," quietly.

After they had all ordered their meals (sole with small roast potatoes, green beans and a green salad for both her and Martin) Louisa broached the subject. "So, medical school you two."

Chris leaned back in his chair. "Mart and I met on our first day, wasn't it?"

"Yes," Martin said.

The waiter returned with water all around, but Chris and Helen added white wine to their order.

Chris steepled his fingers. "Anatomy lab. We shared a cadaver, along with… oh…um, well, it was…" Chris stopped suddenly, his eyes gone wide. Oh no, don't say that name he realized and nearly too late. "Oh, it doesn't matter now does it?" he chuckled. "Long time back."

"No," Martin reacted.

Chris nodded. "Right. But you should know, Louisa, that your husband got me over the rough patches."

Martin said, "Epidemiology, nephrology and cardiovascular." He squinted. "And I also recall neurology was also an issue."

Chris laughed nervously. "And that's likely why I went on for a degree in medical management and business." He shook his head. "Hospital admin has far too many staff meetings and budget reviews for my health at present. Oh my God, Mart, the stories I could tell you, not as exciting as your surgery days, I imagine."

Martin recalled performing an aortic arch resection, when the vessel below the newly installed patch had exploded, under pressure when the clamps had been released. Blood had fountained across the theater. He had to take a deep breath, as he felt his stomach clench at the memory.

"You alright?" Louisa asked when she saw him get tense as he pursed his lips.

Martin quickly sipped water. "I'm fine." He cleared his throat. "The village practice has it's share of confusing cases. Not exciting though." Exciting as in the patient bleeding out and the chest cavity filled with blood and fixing the problem was under all that red fluid. He shook his head to clear the memory. "We save most patients." Like that aortic resection, despite a long recovery time for the poor man.

Forcing the subject away from medicine, Louisa asked Helen, "I know you have children?"

Helen answered, "Oh, yes, our son Dan, he's on a Scout weekend, and Lily, our daughter – she's the younger – staying overnight with a friend."

"And how old are they?" Louisa asked.

"Dan is 12 now, and Lily is 9."

Louisa smiled. "Interesting ages, like a lot of my students."

Chris explained that raising one near teenager and an almost ten-year-old had it's challenges. He finished his list of frustrations by saying, "But someday, you may have children and find out for yourselves."

The food came just then, so conversation came to a stop. After some munching, and finishing her meal, Louisa announced she needed the washroom.

"Oh, me as well," Helen chimed in.

After the women left, Chris leaned towards Martin. "Mart, old boy, sorry about almost spilling the beans."

"Beans?"

"Our cadaver team of three. You understand why I stopped myself... blurting out the name."

Martin finished his sole and dabbed his lips. "Does it matter?"

Chris shook his head. "Well, good Lord, Mart! It just might. I certainly don't feel that discussing your past live-in girlfriend with your wife of just a few weeks is a good idea." He looked back over his shoulder to where their wives had gone. "So how are things?"

"Things?"

"You, Louisa, getting married. Hell of an adjustment for someone… like you Mart. You're not like…"

"Most people," Martin finished for him.

Chris smiled. He had known Martin for most of his adult life, and 'most people' described about 98% of humans, compared to Martin Christopher Ellingham; who was solidly slotted into the rare 2%. The man was brilliant around all medical matters, but the idea of him as a husband was hard to fathom. "She is very pretty," he said.

Martin looked at Chris silently for a moment. "I would say beautiful," he said at last.

"Right. Right you are. Lucky man." Chris grinned. All that long dark hair and those long legs. "And you're living in the surgery?"

"Yes. Louisa still has a few of her things at her house, which she has on a long-term let. Once she finishes the move, we can consider subletting it."

Chris sipped his wine. "Good stuff this." He smiled at his friend. "But how are you?"

"I'm fine."

"No, I mean how are you doing?" He looked around. "The haemophobia."

"Under control," Martin lied. He'd not tell Parsons about the near fainting spell he had when he excised a large sebaceous cyst from old Mrs. What's Her Name's back. The cyst was large and deep, and a large amount of blood came out for it was well stuck into the right latissimus dorsi. He squinted for a moment. "I do have…" His mouth went dry, so he snatched up his water glass.

Chris simply sat there, imagining what Martin was not telling him.

0=0

In the loo, Helen was washing her hands next to Louisa. Such a pretty girl, she thought; well not girl, in her late thirties. "So how does it feel being married to Martin?"

Louisa sighed a little. "We're still adjusting. You know. Living in his house – the surgery – he's got his routine and schedule and there I am, sort of barging in."

Helen laughed. "When Chris and I married he had been living in a student flat by himself. Oh you cannot imagine the mess he made of the place. Strange for an MD he was less than tidy about personal habits and living arrangements." She shook her head. "I got him out of there and into a large flat across from his training hospital. The rent was high, but my father helped us out. I was working on my master's and not working."

"Master's, nice. In?" Louisa turned to the towel dispenser and pulled one out, beginning to dry her hands.

"British History, Middle Ages."

"Are you working now?" Louisa flicked her hair back, then found she had to adjust her top. It was a white collared shirt, which she was wearing with a long grey shrug with long sleeves. Her grey trousers and black books completed the outfit. It still looked quite smart, although the buttons of her top were under stress, but the trousers still fit in spite of her belly bump.

Helen shook her head. "I had been teaching for Truro & Penwith College, but with the children being that certain age – as Chris said teen years just around the corner? Seemed a good time to take a few years off."

Louisa smiled. "I understand."

Helen examined the young woman in the mirror, wondering if she ought to ask. "Louisa… may I ask you something?"

Louis had finished fussing with her shirt. It would have to do. "Sure. Fire away," she said excepting Helen to ask her about more of her feelings living with Martin, for surely she must know about his nature. After all he had been Chris's Best Man at their wedding.

Helen took a deep breath. "It's none of my business, Louisa, but have you thought about children?" she asked. And she did not mean students at her school.

Louisa bit her lover lip. "Oh, quite a lot recently," she sighed.

Helen touched Louisa's elbow. "Ah. well, how far along are you my dear?"

Louisa was startled. "How? I mean… how? Helen! How did you guess?"

Helen's eyes fell to Louisa's bustline so Louisa followed her gaze in the mirror. "I had a few women coworkers over the years and I had two children myself, so…" she shrugged. "The penny dropped. Sorry."

Louisa took a deep breath. "It wasn't planned." She tossed her head then turned towards Helen. "Ten weeks, today actually."

Prompted by some unknown force, Helen put her arm around Louisa who hugged her back. "It's fine, love. It's fine."

Louisa found herself sniffling. "Sorry. It's just an adjustment, Martin would say hormones, and he'd probably be right, but there's just been so many changes, Martin asked me to marry, and I said yes right away, and then three weeks later, was our wedding, and…" Louisa dropped her arms, took a square of paper towel and blew her nose. She winced at her reflection. "I think we got pregnant the first night we were together."

Helen smiled. "It's fine, you know."

"Yeah," muttered Louisa. "So," she wiped her eyes, washed her hands and raked her hair back. "I think dessert is in order, don't you agree?"

Helen laughed. "Right you are."