Disclaimer: Doc Martin is the property of Buffalo Pictures. I own nothing.

Chapter Thirty-four

Paul walked eagerly towards the pharmacy. He hadn't expected to see Sally this morning but one of his patients had been on the same antidepressants for years and Paul wanted to give her something that should have fewer side effects. However, since she had a history of reacting to medicines, Paul wanted to confer with Sally before prescribing. Ahead of him, he saw Danny Steel going into the pharmacy. Without conscious thought, Paul started walking more quickly.

Sally carefully locked the prescriptions' cabinet as she heard the door open. Turning round, she saw Danny Steel browsing the first aid equipment. Smiling, she said,

'Can I help?'

'I need some blister plasters. I went for a walk yesterday and didn't realise until it was too late that I'd got a stone in my shoe. I've got a massive blister on my little toe.'

'Oh dear,' said Sally sympathetically, 'that must be sore.'

'It is.'

'Now, do you want just a padded plaster or do you want a specialised blister plaster?'

'Which would you recommend?'

'The specialised blister plasters are very good, particularly if it's very sore. Just make sure that the toe is completely dry before you put it on.'

Sally took the correct plasters from the rack, went over to the till and scanned the plasters, then said,

'Can I get you anything else?'

'No, thank you.'

Danny paid but instead of leaving said,

'Thank you for all your help.'

'You're welcome. I'm always glad to help particularly when it's a local like you.'

'You're such a caring person.'

'Thank you,' said Sally hesitantly, suddenly reminded of Paul's warning.

'I'm going back to London in a few weeks; perhaps you could come and visit me.'

'I'm rather busy at the moment.'

'Oh, yes, I heard. You're getting divorced.'

'Yes, so I'm afraid I need to be here at the moment, for meetings and so forth.'

'Of course. I understand. Perhaps after it's all sorted out?'

'Perhaps.'

'Well, why don't I give you my London number, just in case you want to get away for a few days.'

'That's very kind of you…'

Danny took out a business card and handed it to Sally, who was suddenly very glad that she the counter was between them. The door opened and Paul came in and Sally beamed with relief, saying,

'Doctor Milligan, how lovely to see you.'

Danny turned away from the counter slowly, saying,

'Hello.'

'Hello, Danny. Good to see you're taking my advice.'

'Yes,' replied Danny, reluctantly, 'I'm getting out and about, as you recommended.'

'Good.'

Paul waited and Danny forced a smile and said,

'Bye.'

Paul and Sally both said goodbye and Danny left. As soon as he'd gone, Paul looked worriedly at Sally and said,

'Are you all right?'

'Yes, he just wanted to invite me to stay with him in London.'

'What did you say?'

The concern in Paul's voice made Sally feel warm; how many years had it been since someone cared that much?

'I told him that I was too busy at the moment and when he pushed I said that perhaps I would after my divorce has come through.'

Paul felt himself relax and chided himself; Sally was very intelligent and used to looking after herself. Of course she'd handled the situation well. He smiled at her and said,

'Good.'

'She smiled back and said,

'Do you need something or have just come for lunch? I've got pasties.'

'A pasty sounds lovely but I do need to pick your brains too.'

'Oh?'

'It's Michelle Williams. I want to change her medication but I'm concerned about side effects and I don't want to stop the natural grieving process either.'

Michelle was Jack's mother and Paul wanted her to grieve for her dead son but with a history of severe depression, he wanted to give her the support that she needed too.

Sally paused at the foot of the stairs, saying,

'Let me think about it while we eat.'

Paul nodded and followed Sally upstairs.

Chelsey looked up reluctantly as Miss Glasson called her name; she had been telling her friends all about her adventure the day before with the burglar and didn't want to stop. However, Miss Sykes was calling the class to order and her friends all went back to their seats so Chelsey obediently followed Miss Glasson out of the classroom. Chelsey smiled as Miss Glasson said,

'Are you feeling better, Chelsey?'

'Yes, thank you.'

'Good. Ready to get your brain working?'

'Yes, Miss Glasson,' said Chelsey, puzzled.

She followed Miss Glasson into her office where a strange woman was waiting. The woman stood up and said,

'Hello, Chelsey.'

'Hello,' said Chelsey hesitantly.

'Chelsey, this is Miss Potter. She's going to teaching you maths from now on.'

Chelsey looked at Miss Potter doubtfully but allowed Miss Glasson to lead her over to the table in the corner. Miss Potter sat down and said,

'I thought we'd start with some multiplication.'

Chelsey sat down, reassured that at least they weren't starting with baby stuff like addition.

Louisa sat down at her desk and listened with half an ear as Chelsey demonstrated how thoroughly she'd fooled them all by rapidly moving past any arithmetic that Louisa had ever been able to do.

'Little pickle,' thought Louisa, 'She's been reading Emily's old textbooks.'

With a smile, Louisa started answering letters.

Martin stifled a yawn as Mrs Lewis rambled on about her mysterious pain that came and went with no rhyme or reason. Cutting her short, he said,

'Are your bowels normal after you've had the pain?'

Indignant at being interrupted, Mrs Lewis glared at him but eventually said,

'Actually, no, Doc. It's always a bit loose afterwards.'

'Any blood in your stools?'

'No.'

'It's something you're eating. Do a food diary and make a note of when you're in pain and when your bowels are loose. Come back in a fortnight.'

'It can't be something I'm eating. We've never had no food allergies or anything in my family. Besides, my diet hasn't changed and I never used to get any pain.'

'People's bodies change as they get older. Things that you used to be able to eat may now upset your stomach.'

'Are you saying I'm old?'

'No, you're middle-aged.'

'What? How dare you!'

Martin glared at Mrs Lewis exasperatedly as she stormed out; sometimes he didn't know why he bothered. Going into the waiting room, he said,

'Pauline, make sure…'

Remembering that it wasn't Pauline on reception, he cut himself off. Taking a deep breath, he said,

'Mrs Ryan, can you make sure that Mrs Lewis comes back in a fortnight please. And tell her to follow my instructions.'

Martin cursed the need to be vague but Bert Large was in the waiting room and he learnt early on that anything said in front of Bert was said to the whole village.

'Yes, Doctor Ellingham.'

'Who's next?'

'Mister Large,' said Mrs Ryan handing Martin Bert's notes.

'Come through,' said Martin, ushering Bert into his consulting room.

Bert sat down and Martin said,

'How are you?'

'Right as rain, thanks, Doc.'

'Then why are you here?'

'It's Al…'

'What about Al?'

'I…I think he's got post-traumatic stress disorder.'

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