Hike

Although Louisa had called it a hike, Martin was not sure it was an exact description. The path to Rough Tor consisted of weathered rocks, which shifted under foot, declivities which were designed by nature to twist ankles or, when filled with mucky water would soak shoes, and tussocks of rough grass which pulled at shoe heels to trip you up. The path snaked it's way along in an almost indiscernible route up the rugged hill; and it went in and on.

Martin looked uphill at Louisa, who was some thirty feet ahead of him. While he admired her female form under her light purple Mackintosh from the rear, he did wish she'd slow down, just a little.

"Louisa!" he called out.

"Another stop?" she asked with irritation. The man was such a townie he had to stop every five minutes, or less. On the other hand, she used, he wasn't used to this sort of trek. Attending to one of his injured patients in a farm field was about the limits of his natural range.

"Ahm, how much further?" he asked.

Louisa peered uphill. "Another hundred yards? Maybe." Martin had gotten lost driving them to the car park near the hill, and although they'd found some interesting megalithic sites, at last the elusive car park had been found at last. It was past half two when they arrived and had taken their time to eat their picnic by the car. The sky was a brilliant blue and the sun warm, which was fine for this day in early November. Now it was getting late, the sun heading down in the west. She stopped walking, allowing him to catch up.

He squinted at her. "And all up hill. Not the same as walking on the flat."

She took his arm as he came up to her and she heard him gasping slightly. "Just like the village, all uphill, and both ways," she quipped.

"With ankle turning obstacles galore," he grumped. He looked down at his shoes, grimacing at the mess on them. "Oh God, look at those scratches! And they're all wet!"

Louisa shook her head because he was very particular about his appearance and his clothing. "I did suggest you wear old shoes."

He glared at her. "These are my oldest shoes."

She'd have to encourage him to buy hiking shoes in future. "You're not much of the outdoors type. Were you ever in the Scouts?"

He shook his head. "My father tried to get me interested in sailing " He stopped speaking for he recalled the rebuking from his dad he'd been given after he'd vomited on their first nautical outing and, each and every time thereafter. "But… that was not... um, a success."

Louisa put her arms around him and rested her face against his shoulder. "It's alright." She looked up into his strained face. "Come on," she said, then tipped her head towards the top of the hill. "Just take uneven strides with me. Okay? Stay in step."

"Fine," he mumbled, but a bad idea this was. Hiking on the moor now meant torture in his mind. He peered around the slope and off in the distance some horses were running. It was beautiful in a rugged way and as far from London as one get, nearly, down here in the southwest of the country. The locals had a phrase 'going bodmin' for those driven mad from the harsh and barren expanse and the howling winds. Not a very understanding phrase to apply to mental illness. He looked back up the hill. "Might as well get it over with," he muttered as he took another step upwards.

Louisa kept pace with him, but all this exercise made her want to wee, although she'd not drunk much water with their meager lunch. She did notice that her breasts were sore, however (she smiled to herself) given the attention that her new husband gave them last night it made sense, but she wished she'd worn a softer bra. "Lead on, Macduff," she said to Martin as they got closer to the steepest part of the hill for now he was pulling her uphill. Perhaps all he had needed was a little bucking up?

In another fifteen minutes they had reached the summit, but the last few yards was a hands and feet scramble over and around large boulders. Martin's long arms and legs plus male strength was an advantage for he had to practically lift Louisa up over the steepest parts.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" she asked him as he pulled her up into the summit.

Martin just sighed. His shoes were ruined, and his clothing now soaked in perspiration, so he held his raincoat open to flap it to cool off.

"But, oh Martin, just look at the view!" she said. "Second highest point in all of Cornwall."

As Martin's turned to survey the vista, his attention was drawn to the lowering sun and the dark clouds which were rising over the sea. "Don't like the looks of that," he pointed at the cloud mass off to the west.

Louisa felt the breeze increase, so she wrapped her mac tighter. "Probably blow over."

"Hm." Martin checked his watch. "We ought not dawdle."

She pulled her mobile out and started snapping photos. "Like I said, Dad used to bring us up here." She shrugged. "But it was cheap entertainment – we never had much money." She tried not to dwell on the sad parts of her upbringing, but those were as much a part of her as Martin's was of him. They were crap parents, Louisa, she told herself; almost totally unfit to have a child. She lowered her mobile and took Martin's hand, which he squeezed briefly. She stretched up to kiss his cheek. Poor Martin. Poor Louisa. But here they were; together. Plenty of dips and bumps on the gravel road that brought them here.

"Louisa? Let's not stay too long, I am concerned about those clouds."

She sighed at him disappointedly. "Up and down? That it?" she grumbled. "Can't you just enjoy the view? Linger a little? Enjoy the experience?" she added with a mischievous smile.

Her words were punctuated by a gust of wind and then a rumble of thunder.

"Get down! Martin grabbed her and jerked her off her feet.

She landed square on her bum, so she shouted at him. "Owww! Damn it, Martin! That hurt!"

"Louisa we are standing on a tall and rocky peak, with thunder in the distance, and that means lightning is in the area!"

She rubbed her backside and glared at him.

"Out in the open like this we could be a prime target for a fatal shock!" He noticed her angry expression. "And… I apologize for any injury to your... um, backside."

She was about to reply when the sky lit up as lightning struck somewhere, the sound followed the flash nearly at the same time.

Martin pushed her onto her back and then climbed atop her to protect her. "Stay down!" he yelled for his ears were ringing from the blast.

"Oh gosh, that was close!" She put her arms around his shoulders as more lightning flashed along with thunder.

He pressed himself down on her to keep her down. "Sound travels in air at around eleven hundred feet each second. That lightning flash was followed by thunder with nearly no delay. It's right on top of us!"

She was startled both by the apparent danger and the physics lesson. "So, that's bad," she said.

His worried face and wide eyes were only an inch from hers. "Very." His brow wrinkled. "Are you alright?"

"Sure. And what a lovely one-day anniversary."

"What?"

"Nothing." She was starting to thank him for protecting her when the downpour began; an icy pelting of giant drops which began to soak them in seconds.

"Oh God," Martin said but he scrunched himself higher to cover her face and head.

Louisa was crushed beneath him yet felt safe under the shelter of his solid body.

The rain stopped as quickly as it began, but now the wind was swirling and building. Martin half rose and peered about. "The storm is coming from the west; up the slope from the car park. We must get off this hilltop!"

Louisa bit her lip, as she rose on her elbows. "There is another path down the other side," she indicated with her chin.

Martin got to his knees, allowing her to sit up. "Right. Come on then. Quick as we can."

"Away from the car?"

"Louisa, the faster we get to lower altitude the better!" He held out his hand, so she took it. "The storm will likely strike up here." He looked solemnly at her. "And we'd better get the hell off this top."

She nodded. "Fine, Martin. Let's get going. Help me up."

Author's notes:

Rough Tor is pronounced Row Tor.

Timing: When is all this happening? If James Henry was born 14 July (in the canon) and a normal pregnancy lasts 280 days from the last day of Louisa's period, then the 'start date' would be October 7 the previous year.

Adding two weeks (half a 28-day cycle), their engagement, etc. would be on 21 October. Adding three more weeks (the church schedule was filled for three weeks) I put their wedding day as 11 November.

So this day is early November; the 12th.