Author's Note: I began writing this story nearly a year ago, and have finally gotten the courage to post it. Please be gentle! :)

Doc Martin and all characters owned by Buffalo Pictures; I'm just borrowing them!

CHAPTER ONE

My day had not been going very well at all, beginning with that pestilence-ridden mongrel- the one that relentlessly follows me around- managing to snatch my stethoscope from my neck as I stooped to tie my shoe. I happened to be positioned right outside Louisa's cottage at the time, returning to the surgery after an early morning walk to the harbor. Louisa. The memory of our ill-fated kiss in the taxi the week before still made me uncomfortable and uneasy. I had merely been following a thought to its conclusion by mentioning my diagnoses; I certainly hadn't intended to make her so angry with me.

Looking back on it now, I realize it was not the appropriate time to be discussing medical matters. I believe it was the fact that she caught me completely off guard by kissing me that caused me to react that way. When I was so stunned and unsure of myself, I automatically reverted to something of which I am always very sure: my profession. When my mind is occupied with medical matters, I remain in control of the situation…and in this case I could quickly feel myself spinning out of control.

How was I supposed to explain that to Louisa? It seemed that every time we spoke, we ended up muddled and upset by the end of the conversation. Louisa used the word 'combative', but I preferred to think of it as the two of us never being on the same page. I never seemed to understand what was happening, what I had said or done wrong, until she was walking angrily away from me. Conversation doesn't come easily to me at the best of times, but with Louisa, it was worse. She never gave me enough time to process and formulate what I wanted to say before she became defensive and irritated.

I had wanted to ring her as soon as I had made it back to the village that morning—on foot, since she had unceremoniously shoved me out of the taxi into the road. But of course there was surgery to attend to, and soon everything was back to the usual hectic schedule. Perhaps I was only using that as an excuse. I am rubbish at apologies, and given my track record with Louisa, I was bound to put my foot in it again and cause another heated confrontation. I was becoming weary of our confrontations. For once, it would have been nice to have a normal conversation with her, one where I could miraculously keep from saying the wrong things.

After wrestling with that horrid dog and seeing Louisa watching the whole thing from her window, I returned to the surgery feeling as if there was a dark cloud above my head. I sincerely hoped it would be an otherwise uneventful day. Of course, that proved to be a ridiculous thought.

I made a home visit early to see Aunty Joan's friend Mrs. Steele, and diagnosed her with a sprained ankle. Aunty Joan convinced me to test Mrs. Steele's mental faculties as well, which seemed to be perfectly normal. I was aggravated to be called out in the first place, since there was obviously no emergency, but that fact was of no concern to anyone. My aunt is under the impression that since she used to change my nappies, I should make certain concessions. (I am reluctant to admit she is mostly right.)

On my way back into the village, I tried calling the surgery to let Elaine know I was running late for my first appointment of the morning. The phone just kept ringing until the machine picked up. My mood went from mildly disgruntled to legitimately angry; I would likely have patients waiting outside when I arrived because no one was there to unlock the door. Bloody Elaine…not that she was at all useful when she did show up for work, chatting on the surgery phone to her on again/off again boyfriend all day, but at least until now she had managed to show up on time.

I hastily parked the car only a few minutes past surgery opening. I was relieved to see no one was waiting, but Mr. Rix very slowly making his way up the road, in obvious pain. He gave the ridiculous story of being mugged and beaten as the reason for his cracked rib, which I didn't believe for a minute. That sort of thing just didn't happen in Portwenn. I wasn't sure about the real cause or why he chose to lie about it, but I didn't much care either. It wasn't any of my business, only so far as to treat his injuries, and I did so quickly.

As I was seeing Mr. Rix out of the consulting room, Al Large was sitting at Elaine's desk installing a new ink cartridge in the printer. My inept receptionist was still nowhere to be found.

'Al, have you spoken to Elaine? Do you know why she isn't at work?' I asked sharply. I vaguely knew the two of them had some sort of weird romance going on, and I assumed if anyone would know why she hadn't shown up, it would be him.

'What, she didn't call you, Doc?' he answered.

'If she had, I wouldn't bother to ask, now would I?'

'Right. I suppose not.' He rubbed the back of his neck with the palm of his hand. 'Elaine's gone to Pompeii.'

'She's what?' I exclaimed.

'Pompeii. Followed Greg there for some reason; I only just heard from her father last night. She didn't call to tell me herself,' Al responded casually, but I could see that it hadn't sat well with him.

'Well when is she planning to come back? And did she intend to inform me at some point, seeing as I am her employer?' I was furious.

'No idea, Doc. I really can't say what she's thinking…when she's coming back…really no idea.'

Well, this was just terrific. Now I had to hire another sodding receptionist.

Of course, then again, I hadn't technically hired her in the first place.

I would be lying if I said I was sorry to see Elaine go. I had attempted to fire her soon after my arrival due to her belligerence, non-existent work ethic, and complete ineptitude. The entire village had gone up in arms against me and became so hell-bent on making my life miserable; I had to rehire her in the end. I obviously hadn't wanted to, but I would have ended up with virtually no patients. I can't very well be a GP without patients, no matter how imbecilic and irritating they are.

Al finished his work and left quickly, merely nodding in my direction. He obviously could tell I was in no mood for a chat. Trying to file away my irritation, I called the next patient and showed him through to the consulting room, very aware that the surgery's waiting area was full to bursting with no one there to keep things in order. I mentally cursed Elaine once again.

As soon as surgery hours were over and I was alone in my kitchen, I poured a small amount of whiskey into a glass and downed it in one go. I very rarely consume alcohol, perhaps two or three times a year, and even then I limit myself to one drink. This evening, it seemed appropriate; my mind was still tangled with thoughts of Elaine leaving and the tedious task of finding a replacement. And then there was Louisa…well, she was often tangled in my thoughts. I knew I should talk to her and at least try to get back in her good graces.

Just when I had made up my mind to see her in the morning, there was a soft knock on the back door. I recognized her silhouette through the glass.

'Louisa,' I said, surprised.

'Martin, we need to talk,' she answered brusquely, determination etched in her features.

'Er…yes. We should talk.' I waited a beat then feebly added, 'would you like to come in?'

'No, thank you; I was actually on my way to the Crab to have dinner with an old friend. I wanted to come here first, though, and get this sorted. You're coming over to my cottage after surgery tomorrow and we are going to have a proper chat for a change.'

I opened my mouth, and then closed it again. This was unexpected. 'Right. That seems…er, fine. What time should I…?'

'Six o'clock, and you're staying for dinner. All right?'

'Yes. Good.'

She gave me a small smile. 'Good. See you tomorrow, then.' And she was gone.

I stood holding the door open for a minute more, wondering what exactly had just happened.