Chapter 50 – Home

I took the door knob in my sweaty hand, threw the door open and charged in, tripping a bit on the sill. Louisa looked up in amazement. The strain of her labors showed on her face and sweaty brow as she lay there on that awful orange sofa. Before she could yell at me again, words poured out of my mouth to her. "I know that you don't want me in here!" I said. "But I have to tell you… I was wrong…"

Louisa held out her right hand. "Please…" she whimpered and beckoned to me. "Come here… come here!" then she yelled out more. "Ahhhhh!"

I dropped to my knees at her side and my heart spilled out our faces inches apart. "I was wrong, about you… about leaving… about everything!" Then my heart nearly broke as tears came to my eyes and I couldn't breathe correctly, but I managed to choke out more words. "When I saw that taxi… I feared the worst!"

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The contractions were killing me but from my last few minutes of hard pushing the little person was almost out. But what I really wanted, no needed, was Martin here with me! Surprisingly Martin barged in just I called out for him! What was he saying? He was wrong? Martin Ellingham was wrong? My God, Louisa, miracles can happen! And the man was nearly crying!

I howled, grabbed Martin's shoulders and pulled him to me. I put my mouth right on his for I don't know how long and it was the best thing I'd felt, for about nine months. It was the deepest kiss, and he responded, in history! Then I had to howl again in the grip of another contraction. "Ahhhhhhh!"

My arms were like steel clamps holding onto Martin as the contraction built and this was a huge one! OH MY GOD! "Ahhhhhhhh!" came out and things got very fuzzy, but I still had my hands clenched into his jacket. I threw him to and fro for a bit groaning with the effort of getting the baby out.

"I can see the head! You're doing great!" the paramedic told me as I shouted again.

"Push!" came her command. "Push!"

I took a deep breath, clamped my mouth shut and pussshhheeeddddd. I felt the baby shift measurably.

The paramedic smiled in support. "Again! Push – a big one!"

Again I tried to shift the baby and was rewarded with a little cry. Thank God! I breathed deep and felt a giant smile plaster itself across my face. I could see Martin's face spring into a faint surprise.

"Congratulations," said the paramedic. "It's a boy!"

My head fell back for a few seconds until I could speak. "A boy, it's a boy! Oh, yes…" The paramedic handed my son to me, and how amazing it was when she settled him into my arms!

"Martin…" I began to say lovingly as I held my son. This was the payoff – to have my baby and his father next to me! My little boy was alert and looking around, his little blue eyes open and gazing at me. His little head was gooey with fluid and blood but I loved him all the same.

Martin caught my eye. "Just a minute…" he said, jumped up and ran out the door.

I heard him vomiting away. I gave an apologetic look to the paramedic who had a startled look. "He has a little problem with blood." She took the baby, clamped and cut the cord, and gave him back. For that little while with the baby out of arms and Martin puking away outside I felt quite alone.

Martin came back saying, "Sorry about that…" as he knelt down by my side.

"Do you want to hold him?" I held my son out to his father.

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In the background I heard the pop of a champagne cork and the splatter of fizzy liquid onto the floor. The pub owner was wasting no time to celebrate, even though he'd had nothing to do with the event.

Louisa looked up at me all dewy eyed and held my son out to me. "Do you want to hold him?"

Lord, I thought! "Uhm… no…" I stammered, "Of course not… I mean…" What did I mean? Nervous, Ellingham? Damn straight! "He is a baby. I might drop him or do something wrong… I'm not very good with babies."

Her lovely, tired face looked up at me eagerly. There was so much promise - so much love - in her look!

"You can learn!" she said.

Right as always Louisa, I realized. "Yes, yes, I could." I awkwardly took the baby from his mother and held him as I might a rugby ball with hands on either side. My son was small and wet, but his blue eyes were open and he looked at me as he waved a little arm about. This was my son! After a few seconds my courage was gone and I slowly gave him back to his mother feeling quite in shock.

Louisa expertly tucked him into the crook of her arm and rubbed his little hand. "Beautiful," she said. "Don't worry," cooed Louisa to our little boy. "You'll get used to him… eventually." She caressed him again tenderly.

I looked down at our boy held in his mother's arms and spewed out an observation. "Head's a bit misshapen."

Louisa rolled her eyes. "Martin…" she began to say in an irritated way.

"Pressure of the birth canal squeezes the plates of the skull together so they can pass through. Should rectify itself in six weeks or so. If not he might need a small procedure," I added.

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I took the baby back from Martin and caressed his little hand and arm. Oh… he was lovely.

Then Martin just had to open his mouth. "Head's a bit misshapen," he said.

"Martin…" I said to warn him, but he nattered on.

"Should rectify itself in six weeks or so. If not he might need a small procedure," Martin finished.

I looked up at the wood beams above, with beige plaster between them, down to the paramedic who had a chagrined look on her face as she heard what Martin said. I wondered how many babies she's delivered. Eight, ten, twenty? Had any father ever said such a thing before?

I knew what the answer was. Only one – only one. Only Doctor Martin Ellingham would say such a thing. The father of my son and the man that I loved – only he would say such a thing, I sighed. I pursed my face at his words.

I came back to Portwenn to have my baby in my village. I'd done that. But I actually came back to have Martin with me. And here he was.

The kiss I gave him just minutes ago was the best thing that I could have done. But there were things… we'd need to work on. Both of you, Louisa! That was a given.

I looked at Martin, his craggy face in his 'doctor look.' He was too bloody smart for his own good once in a while. I suppose I'll just have to teach him to temper his words and not just at me. But he could learn! He admitted that he could.

Martin saw the funny look I gave him. "What?" he asked not having a clue.

I'd been on a long journey. There were thrilling adventures and I had done amazing things. I'd suffered at the hands of dragons, witches, and nasty people, as well as felt discomfort, fear, anger, sadness and jealousy. But I'd also been given help, support, and understanding and at the very end love.

Home is not just a place. Home is the safe haven we need at the end of the day with the ones that we love. I was home, warts and all, but a lot of good things too. I was finally home at last.

My son cried just then so I soothed him as Martin crouched by my side.

THE END

Author's notes: This tale took much longer than I thought it might to write, so thank you for reading along and hanging with me. Thank you also for all the nice reviews, many of which gave me further insight into the adventures of Louisa Glasson and Martin Ellingham in Doc Martin - Season 4.

I had a lot of fun filling in the blanks behind the scenes and inside the character's heads. Having written this story I now feel that I have satisfied many questions I had about this year of the series. If my story helped you in a similar way, I feel gratified.

Doc Martin is owned by Buffalo Pictures and I heartily thank them for unofficially permitting me to borrow the characters and locations of the TV production.

See you in Portwenn!

Rob (aka robspace54)