Frenzy

That early afternoon, Martin parked the car by their house then got out, but ran around the car to help Louisa rise. She responded with a raised eyebrow. "Just helping," he told her.

She smiled then gave him a quick hug. She made it a point to press her belly against him. "So…"

Martin had automatically put his arms around her waist and looked down. "Yes." There was a baby inside her, their baby. His baby. It was a lot to take in. Seeing the ultrasound images had finally cemented the fact in his mind. He released her then straightened his jacket. "Louisa, um, I have patients and I'd better…" he nodded towards the house.

"Right," she answered then kissed his cheek, and for once he did not recoil. She inhaled the scent of him – a whiff of shampoo, deodorant, the blandest of aftershave and the warm skin scent that she associated with Martin. They had gotten a quick lunch in a café near the hospital, then rushed back to Portwenn; he to his practice and her to school. "See you after my school lets out," she told him. The baby kicked and Martin felt it for he started. Louisa grinned. "Making herself known."

He nodded, then reluctantly his arms dropped away from her. "We said not to tell us."

She nodded. "Girl or boy, it'll be fine. Sometimes I think it's a boy, but other times I think it's a girl."

Not an it thought Martin. It likely did have a gender, unless it had ambiguous genitalia, but even then the brain would usually tend to be male or female. "Right," he answered then said, "I'll prepare dinner tonight, shall I?"

She shook her head. "Oh, let's go out somewhere."

"Fine," he snapped, for he'd rather eat his own cooking rather than someone else's from a strange kitchen of possibly dubious cleanliness.

Louisa's hand lingered against his shoulder, for she wanted… well… to have some time… they'd not spoken much on the drive back to the village… and now… she wanted to process the experience, with her husband. She sighed. "Off to work then."

"Goodbye," he said to her.

She smiled hugely. "Yes, well, later Martin." She released his shoulder then walked down the hill, but she found herself glancing up at him once or twice. "Martin," she was whispering. "My Martin."

Martin mounted the steps at his house then looked back at Louisa as she made her way to the school. How many times had she left him thus? But now… now… he took a deep breath… she will be back.

Pauline was reading a magazine, and cracking chewing gum, when he entered. "Pauline. Get rid of that gum. Unhealthy."

She smirked at him, but took the wad from her mouth, wrapped it in scrap paper and binned it. "Hello to you, too. How was Louisa's scan?"

Martin froze. "Um, fine. All fine."

"Lovely," she replied. "Bert Large is in there." She hooked her thumb towards the surgery door. "Said he felt very fatigued."

Sighing, Martin went to face one of his least favorite patients.

Bert Large was leaning back in the visitor's chair, eyes closed and shoes off, with feet up on the other chair. He was snoring.

Martin stood over him and growled. "Bert!"

"Huh? Wha…" Bert stirred. "Sorry Doc. I just couldn't keep my eyes open."

Martin glared at him. "Take your smelly feet and sweaty socks off my chair! They stink."

Abashedly, Bert did as directed. "Sorry, Doc. You was late for my appointment, so I, well…" he chuckled. "No harm done eh?"

Marttin sat down. "Fatigue, Pauline said."

"Yeah. Just can't get to sleep at night. My mind whirling around. One thing to another. Ideas that won't quit."

Martin cleared his throat. "I did tell you to cut back on your caffeine in the evening."

Bert laughed. "Oh, that. You see after I eat my dinner then I get really sleepy, so I have a cuppa to stay awake to watch the telly."

Martin sighed, then began to explain the effects of caffeine on the nervous system.

At her school, Louisa walked into an eerie silence. No chattering of children, only that lack of noise that says that the building was empty, or nearly so. She found Sally as she entered the office. "Sally? Where are all the kids?"

"Mr. Strain came in, said that he had your permission to take 'em down to the beach." Sally ducked her head. "I tried to call, but I couldn't reach you."

Louisa dug her mobile from her bag to inspect the call log. "Must have been when we were driving across over the moor." There were many black spots with bad connections out there. "The beach?"

Sally stood. "It did seem strange. He was quite certain he had your permission, and I didn't see that it would cause any harm. Field excursion to Rosscarrock Cove."

Louisa felt a buzz of caution. "Right. Well, then I'll just go down there and collect 'em."

"With the year threes and fours up at Joan Morton's farm, Strain took all the little kids," Sally explained. She asked, "You want me to go with you?"

Louisa chomped on her lip. "No. No. Well, then…" Louisa looked down at her shoes which were not exactly beach wear. She turned to leave and tugged her coat about her as she got to the street. "The beach?" she muttered. "Whatever is that man up to? Strange."

As she got to the cove she could not hear any children's voices, but there was Strain who had them lined up as he marched back and forth in front of them. "Mr. Strain?" Louisa asked cautiously.

The man glanced at her then faced away from her and started to laugh sardonically. "Ah, my good Mrs. Ellingham – Head Teacher – I am very, very, very shocked by the attitude of your students!"

Louisa could now hear, over the noise of the surf, some of the kids were sniffling, and one or two were openly sobbing. She sidled up to Tommy Weber, who stood at the end of the line and the boy was one of the brightest and oldest kids. "Tommy?" she whispered. "What is going on?"

Tommy seized her hand. "He said we had to build sandcastles, but…" he poked at the pebbly shingle with the toe of a worn trainer. "There's no sand at all so he started yelling…" his hand squeezed her fingers. "Scary."

Louisa patted the boy on the head, after she pried her hand from his. "It'll be fine. Now, when I tell you to go, I want you to take the other children with you. Go up to the road and wait there. Keep an eye on the little 'uns?" She smiled encouragingly.

Tommy smiled, relieved that the Head was now here. "Right. I will."

Louisa smiled at him. "Good boy and I know I can count on you." She took her mobile from her pocket and scrolled down to Martin's number. "Mr. Strain? Mr. Strain, if we could just step away from the children? Please? I think you are scaring them." She waved to Strain, and he did take a few steps toward her and away from the students.

Strain then looked at her without a reaction. "Fine, oh fine. Right. Of course!" he said. Then his face broke into a huge smile when he faced her. "One thing I do like about rural schools, such as yours, is how the teachers are always right." He turned from her and walked back to the line of children, who stood to the side of him in a crooked line. "But you see? You do see?" he asked the little girl. "Can't even make a straight rank!"

The girl name was Violet Trewilkin, and she was in year two. A tiny girl, her eyes now streaming tears, her freckled nose dripping. "I don't like you," she hissed at him. "Go away. You're like our scary neighbor and if my dad was here, or my mum, they'd give you what for!"

"Oh?" Strain got down on one knee. "Spunk! Am I the bogeyman?" Now his whole face lit up in happiness. "Always a delight to talk to a bright child. A bright child." He beamed at her. "I'm not scary now, am I?"

Violet crossed her arms. "Yes!"

Louisa keyed the phone in her hand, and she could hear Martin's mobile begin to ring. "Mr. Strain. Mr. Strain? Is this necessary?" she asked, just as she heard Martin answer the call.

"Louisa?" Martin asked and then he heard Louisa.

"Just listen! Mr. Strain! Yes I know it was a wonderful idea to bring all the children down to Roscarrock Cove on this cold and misty day, but to build sandcastles? There's no sand here just now. The winter storms washed all of it away! So, Mr. Strain it's just not possible. Maybe if we had some help? Real help?" She gulped as Strain glowered at her. "Like now! Maybe if Dr. Ellingham came here NOW he might be able to help us?"

Martin then heard Strain speak. "No, no! You have to get into the spirit of the thing, Mrs. Ellingham! We won't need the doctor! But all your students are rubbish at the task I set. Just look at this pitiful example. It's merely a pile of pebbles! There!" Martin heard the scrape of shoe leather on rocks, kicked no doubt.

Martin cut off Bert's nattering. "Not now, Bert!" he shouted as he rushed to Pauline's desk. "Call PC Penhale! Mr. Strain is down at Rosscarrock Beach and is threatening Louisa and her students!" He shrugged into this heavy coat. "I knew there was something very wrong with that man," he muttered.

Pauline picked up her desk phone. "Oh Doc, and when you were away the Test Laboratory left a message about Mr. Strain. Results of his blood test." She pawed through papers on her desk. "Here," she handed a scribbled note to Martin.

Martin's eyes bugged out as he read the numbers. "Good Lord! Mr. Strain's total porphyrin levels are three times higher than normal!" Then it all made sense. Strain's anxiety and agitation, his GI pains, and now the man has flipped. Totally bonkers. A psychotic break.

"He's a weird fellow," Pauline said. "Mad seems to me."

"Not mad. The man is ill, Pauline. Very ill. He has porphyria!"

"What?"

"It's a genetic disorder, which causes an over production of heme in his system. It's what George III probably had."

"Mad King George?" Pauline laughed, then stifled her outburst. "Sorry, Doc. So, you say man is sick. Right?"

Martin picked up his medical bag and headed for the door. "Just call Joe Penhale! NOW!"

As he trotted down to the Platt, then up the hill and down to the water on the far side. He knew that Strain might be volatile or could even be sitting on the shingle crying his eyes out. He'd clearly been suffering for some time. Blast! He ought to have gotten a urine sample from the man. That would have been a quick diagnostic test, for the application of ultraviolet light would turn the sample blue.

Louisa finally tucked her phone back in her pocket, for Strain had returned to her. "And you! Pregnant! A mother-to-be!" he shouted in her face.

Louisa took a step back, for she felt actual fear, the way that Strain could flip from one extreme to the other. His frenzied behavior was frightening.

Stain held out his arms towards her but did not touch her. "You see, don't you? That baby will have to learn things! Know things!" He glanced at the kids, who had clustered together. "Now look! They won't even stay in a straight line!" he shook his finger in her face. "And you…. you as a mother… you haven't even begun to teach it." He stopped. "How to make a line. Boy or girl?"

"We don't know."

"Boy or girl?" He thundered but then shook himself and relaxed. "Sorry, I do get myself worked up, don't I?" he said softly. "Don't mean to do that."

Louisa looked at Tommy, got his attention, and said, "Go," to the child. She was very glad to see that he started to lead the other kids away, up away from the beach.

"Go?" Strain mumbled, all his attention on her. "Yes, I ought to just go. And I… I do apologize for my actions and um, words. I can get so, so wired! But it's the job, you see, this blasted job. Running from here to Looe, up to Bude, down to…" he stopped, and his eyes narrowed. "Bodmin. You will find out, you know. When you get pushed out of teaching, told you were erratic, given a desk job, sent hither and yon. Now St. Ives, ah," he sighed happily. "St. Ives was wonderful!"

Louisa nodded. "Yes. Tell me about St. Ives." She wanted to keep Strain engaged while the kids completed their escape.

Strain nodded. "Lovely waterfront, and the water is warm…" he rubbed his arms, for he was not wearing an overcoat. "Warmer than up here. Lovely beach. A fantastic museum and ornamental garden. Magnificent sculptures. Have you been?"

Louisa turned her head and saw that Tommy had all the kids up to the road just as Penhale's Rover came to a stop as Martin came running down to her.

"Mr. Strain?" Martin was calling. "Louisa, are you alright?"

Strain had dropped his eyes to the ground. "I quite fancied St. Ives," he mumbled but then stiffened. "But for HER."

"Who?"

Martin came running up, braked to a halt in a spray of pebbles. "Mr. Strain?" he repeated.

Then Strain stared at Martin, pushed Louisa over backwards and ran towards the water.

Martin bent down to Louisa. "You alright? The baby?"

"Yeah, yeah. Landed on my bum, but look!" She pointed as Strain rushed into the water.

"Oh, no," Martin muttered then he dropped his medical bag, mobile phone and wallet next to Louisa, then pursued Mr. Strain. Martin caught up with Strain where the frigid water was waist deep. The man was headed out to sea, pointing westward and shouting some happy nonsense.

Martin grabbed for Strain and spun him around, but the man flung his arms around him, then forced himself and Martin deep underwater. As seawater flooded into his sinuses, Martin thought it had been an eventful day, also that he hated going to the beach.