Chapter 12

I am constantly amazed and touched, and end up grinning like a lunatic when I read your kind words. To those, I am unable to PM responses to Thank you and I honor you with this chapter - Debbie, Sprintz, and Anita. You make the words flow onto the screen. ;)

Time for Truth

'And sometimes when we touch
The honesty's too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I wanna hold you til I die
Til we both break down and cry
I wanna hold you till the fear in me subsides…'

Dan Hill – 'Sometimes When We Touch'

ME/LE

Louisa and I are in a taxi traveling around Hyde Park, but I don't notice. I look down and she is holding my hand rubbing the palm the same way I do when she needs comforting. All I want right now is my family; my emotions are overpowering, my senses screaming and I don't understand why I feel this way about this man. Ruth would understand more than anyone.

I don't recall paying for the taxi, helping Louisa out or the ride in the lift, it isn't until she notices I haven't used my keycard and decides to knock on the door when I realize where we are. The door opens to a surprised Joan and a squealing Phillip. The sound of Phillip jabbering at us brings a smile to my face and I return to the present. I look around me and realize the porter is waiting near the door with Louisa's bags with a questioning expression.

"Please place them in that bedroom," I say pointing towards my room. When he returns I hand him his tip, and he exits closing the door behind him.

Louisa looks at me and I am not in any state to communicate so she turns to my aunt.

"Joan," my wife says looking at her and rolling her eyes in my direction, "Can you hand Phillip over to Martin, please."

Joan unsure what is happening gladly hands a squirming Phillip to me. Just his touch makes me smile. He grabs onto my ears and says hello in our usual way and my heart settles.

"Martin, why don't you change Phillip and we'll see about lunch,"

I look in her direction and the best I can do is nod and follow her suggestion. "Phillip, we need to do as your mum says," I say as I carry him towards my room.

"Joan has Ruth called?" Louisa asks.

"Yes, a while ago. The solicitor is bringing her here. She will give us the updates."

"Joan, how are you? Let me make you a cup of tea."

"No, I'm fine. My cup is over there and should be warm. You need to sit and let me take care of making a cuppa for you."

I come back into the room with a dry, talkative Phillip and sit down next to Louisa making sure he doesn't climb into her lap. Joan places Louisa's tea on the side table next to her and hands her one of Phillip's books, "Lunch will be here soon, I ordered salads with chicken for all of us."

The sound of a knock at the door interrupts Louisa's reading of Kipper's Alphabet Adventure. Joan gets up to answer it. Ruth is standing at the entrance and walks through announcing lunch will be served as a wait staff pushes the trolley in behind her. She scans the room as the trolley is positioned near the table and tips the waiter as he leaves. I pick up Phillip and place him in his chair as Joan pulls out his juice from the fridge and pours some into his cup. I help Louisa up and move her cushion to the chair next to Phillip. Ruth watches as we prepare our usual dining experience around Phillip as Joan finishes placing food in Phillip's bowl and places it on his tray,

"I must say isn't this a domestic setting," Ruth expresses.

"Sit down Ruth and try to keep your observances to yourself while we eat," I say.

I remain silent, per my usual behavior throughout lunch. I listen to my son entertain his newest relative. I believe he is nothing like me until I hear my aunts tell Louisa their stories,

"Joan do you remember Martin just before his first birthday; Margaret needed a party to host, to show off her new Georgian sideboard she just bought, of course not interested in celebrating her only child's first birthday. You were visiting me at the time seeing a medical specialist at St. Thomas's and I talked you into going, so you could see Martin."

Joan is nodding her head but has a foul angry look in her blue eyes as Ruth continues her story.

The nanny bought Martin into the lounge and he saw you and toddled over carrying his bear that you and Phil sent for his birthday and chattered on forever. He made growling sounds and made Margret so angry. Martin was the center of attention and not her and her precious piece of furniture," she says finishing with a smirk laugh.

"Yes, I do remember that day. Marty was so talkative, so bright asking questions or bringing a book to read, Phillip reminds me of him. I think I spent most of the day in the nursery with him and you came up quite often saying something about needing an intelligent conversation away from the 'Margret self-gratification conversations'."

It dawns on me, after all the therapy and listening to the family that loves me, I am not defective as I believed for so long. If I had half the love Phillip receives my life would have been different. As I delve deeper into that thought, I come to realize if my life was different would I be sitting here with Louisa; would I have met her. If I was different, would I have suffered from haemophobia retrained, and became the GP of Portwenn? No, and I wouldn't be sitting here with my wife pregnant, and my son. Today is sad only due to the death of a member of the Ellingham clan, not sad about who that member was. The tales continue about the three siblings and how the elder sibling was never at fault, never to blame; as the male in the family given everything he expected and everything he desired. His sisters can't recall anything good about his life except for Joan's mention of 'her Marty'. I seem to be the only worthwhile contribution, too bad my parents didn't feel that way.

Joan recalls, "The stink he made when Uncle Dick died and the outrage Christopher felt at sharing the farm with me. He felt like the oldest and only male he should alone inherit the Cornwall property. Phil and I worked that farm and Christopher never thought anything of it; he was a doctor, surgeon in training, and couldn't be bothered with farming. I spent forty years working that farm and he comes along and suddenly wants his share; the farm he said Phil and I could have. My Phil worked himself to death keeping the farm going and Christopher just wanted to waltz in and expecting me to give it to him. Thank goodness I had Marty even though at first I thought he was on his fathers' side, and that woman sat there not saying a word the whole time."*

I notice Louisa quietly sitting listening to the stories she has never heard and more than likely would never hear if it was up to me.

Ruth finally approaches the subject of the day, "Martin, your father's medical directive was simple as you saw. Your friend, Alistair allowed me to read the will and your father knew about William Shaw but never met him. He is the son of a surgical nurse from Imperial he had a relationship with. She died in an accident about twelve years ago. Your father found a way to find the necessary funds for William to attend medical school. There is a property in Kensington Christopher bought and William is currently living in it. Alistair said he would handle everything relating to it, you don't have to be involved. Your father removed your mother from his will but it does say she is to be informed of his death and again Alistair said he would handle it."

"I want nothing from my father. The only thing I ever wanted from him never came and will never come." I push myself away from the table and like I did yesterday, I walk out of the suite and down the corridor to find silence I need on the streets of London.

ME/LE

The shock of Martin's sudden departure causes Phillip to become upset. He doesn't usually hear his father raise his voice. Joan and I try to calm him. I realize with my injury, Phillip will need to rely on Joan until his father returns. "Joan can you pick up Phillip while I move to the sofa and then you can place him next to me so I can cuddle him."

Joan makes a different suggestion, "Louisa instead of the sofa, go into Martin's room get settled on the bed and I will bring him in to lay with you, it is close to his naptime and you look exhausted."

"That's a lovely suggestion. I can finish reading his story to him." I get up, pick up his book and walk into the bedroom. I notice as usual Martin's love for his son as his cot is set up close next to his side of the bed. I pull an extra pillow from under the duvet and carefully lay down on my side placing the pillow between my knees. Joan soon walks in guiding a walking Phillip with a large grin on his face, his earlier upset forgotten. He makes it to the end of the bed and tries to climb up. Joan gives his bottom a boost and I find him crawling towards me giggling.

"Phillip come here and lay down and I'll finish reading your book," I say. "Thank you, Joan, we should be fine, but leave the door open just in case."

I open the book and Phillip snuggles up close and I am about to start reading when Ruth walks in with a bottle for Phillip. She hands him the bottle and he settles in for a drink and a story; a very contented little boy. Fifteen minutes later, the bottle drained and the story ended and Phillip is sound asleep. Quietly Joan comes in with some extra cushions to place beside Phillip's sleeping form, retrieves the bottle, and leaves. Soon I am asleep cuddled with his warm body close to mine. I revel in this feeling that I have missed these last three weeks.

ME/LE

I find myself outside the walls of Buckingham Palace, the crowd of visitors watching the changing of the guard brings me away from my thoughts as I bump into a tourist and called an idiot. It doesn't seem to matter where I am for the name-calling. I continue my walk enjoying the weather when I'm stopped by an elderly couple,

"S'il vous plaît. Où se trouve grande roue au bord de la rivière?"

I look at the couple for a moment, they are the age of my parents and something comes over me. "Un moment." I look around and see what I need and wave, and the hackney pulls up. I open the door and ask the driver to take the couple to the London Eye and pay him the fare. I turn to the couple, "Il vous emmènera." I help them into the vehicle, "Au revoir." And close the door and start to walk away, when I hear, "Merci." **

I smile for the second time today and come to the realization the only reason I smile each day is waiting for me in the hotel and quickly look for another hackney to wave down.

ME/LE

I am swiping my keycard when my mobile buzzes. I pull it out announcing, "Ellingham". Alistair, yes tomorrow at ten, I will see you then. I will tell them. Thank you." I end the call and try swiping the keycard again. I open the door and find Ruth and Joan sitting on the sofa talking.

"I just received a phone call from Alistair Cummings, we have an appointment in his office at ten tomorrow."

I look towards my bedroom of the suite and notice the door is closed.

"Louisa and Phillip are sleeping," Joan says.

I look at my aunts and stuttering say, "I... I need to apologize for my emotional outburst this afternoon. It has been a difficult few days. I am sorry." I don't look at either, feeling like a spoiled schoolboy lately it is hard keeping my emotions locked up under control. I walk towards the door and the woman I love, pushing the door open I can see my family cuddled together on the bed. I haven't lain with her for three weeks and the need now overwhelms me. I turn to close the door, starring at the sleeping pair in the center of the huge bed with cushions protecting Phillip on one side and his mum cuddled on the other. I slip my shoes off, slide my jacket off my shoulders laying it near the end of the bed. Carefully I slide slowly onto the bed over to Louisa and cuddle into her, wrapping my arm across her and onto Phillips' sleeping body. I feel at peace for the first time this weekend. Everyone precious to me is within the reach of my arm.

I wake sometime later to the sound of my son's grunting. My face is nestled into Louisa's neck and I am reluctant to leave this passionate place but know I must. I roll onto my back and find Louisa's hand searching for mine, I take it and roll towards her and kiss her shoulder, neck finding my way to her lips.

"Dadda," calls Phillip.

My eyes move towards my son, he is now sitting and reaching for me. I kiss Louisa once more, "Phillip, did you have a good nap? Let Daddy get up and I will take care of that smelly nappy." I roll away from Louisa, get off the bed, and walk over to the cabinet holding clean nappies and wipes. I grab the changing pad and lay it on the bed, "Phillip come here and get cleaned up."

"Dadda, Baff?"

"Not now Phillip, I'll give you a bath tonight before mummy reads to you."

"Dadda, Baff!" pointing to the en-suite bathroom.

I look at him once more, "No Phillip, bath tonight." I lay him on the pad and unsnap his trousers and remove the smelly nappy, clean him with the wipe and place the clean nappy on him. As I am snapping his trouser legs back together Louisa asks a question,

"Martin why is Phillip asking for a bath, he normally isn't this demanding."

"He and I had a shower yesterday morning. I thought the warm water and his full belly would help him to get back to sleep after we checked in and it did. He and I slept a couple of hours in bed together. This morning my alarm woke him and he wanted another bath and pointed to the shower so we had another shower together. He seems to enjoy the warm water spraying over his head and down his body. I forgot to ask you if this is a normal father activity I should do with my children?" My eyes are wide with my questioning face as this is all new to me.

"I don't see a problem with it. I assume parents allow their young children to shower with them, but Martin if it makes you uncomfortable then don't do it. And if it doesn't then continue, but if you continue then I want to take my turn with you," she says with aroused emerald green eyes.

I swallow hard realizing what she wants from me, "Humm…Louisa, we need to see the specialists before we can think of doing that."

"I know, but I can always hope, can't I?"

To change the subject, I pick up Phillip and place him on the floor and open the door leading to the lounge, he makes his way squealing when he sees Auntie Joan and the new person. He walks a bit before collapsing to crawl straight towards Ruth, stopping at her feet and sitting on his bottom. He looks up at her and says, "Ead eese." Ruth looks up from her reading, looks at Joan, back to Phillip,

"What does he want?" she asks.

"He wants to sit in your lap and read your magazine with you. Martin is always reading his BMJ with him, he likes the pictures," Joan says as it is a normal request from Phillip.

"But he won't understand what I'm reading."

"It is not what you are reading to him but your interaction with him. He loved it when he and I looked through the seed book this past winter. He suggested a few new crops for my garden."

"Eed, eese," Phillip asks again as he pulls himself up to stand next to Ruth's legs.

"Joan help lift him onto my lap, he must weigh a ton by the look of him."

Joan sets Phillip in Ruth's lap and returns to her place on the sofa. Phillip takes hold of the magazine, points at the picture, and starts his explanation of the picture on the page. Of course, Ruth is not used to his gibberish and sits there stunned. There are a few words that sound familiar but most aren't in her dictionary. She is about to ask a question when Louisa and I come out of our room, Phillip stops and squeals to his parents, "eed, eed" and pats Ruth on the arm.

Louisa and I smile, and I say "Yes Phillip, you are reading Ruth's magazine."

He turns towards Ruth, cocks his head over, and says," Roo" and taps her arm and smiles. "Roo eed" and starts his gibberish again. Joan laughs at her stiff sister and says, "Roo your great-nephew likes you," and laughs again.

"Louisa and I are taking a stroll through the hotel and maybe outside. We should be back in thirty minutes and we can then decide on our meal."

We walk out the door to the lift and get out on the ground floor and walk into the lobby,

"Martin it might be nicer out on the street along the front of the building, I have been cooped up in the hospital for two days and the sunshine will feel good. We can window shop for a bit."

"Window shop, what is that?"

"You know Martin, look at the window displays, discuss them, and see how they could fit in your life. For example a display of ties in a men's clothing shop, we would discuss if they would currently fit with some of your suits."

"But I currently don't need any ties…" and then it dawns on me what she means. "Let's do that, but stay close to the building so people don't bump you."

We walk along the street, watching the horse-drawn carriages go by, the tourist dressed in the most outrageous outfits, according to Martin.

"Why do people dress like they are at the beach, especially the Americans? They have no idea on appropriate dress."

"Martin, they are saying the same thing about you. The overdressed Brit," she says with a laugh.

We continue walking slowly down to the end of the building towards Bressenden Place, turning left and walk to the cut-through of Warwick Row. "Are you getting tired," I ask.

"Maybe a bit, we can turn around and walk back; I don't want to overdo it the first day out of the hospital."

She takes my arm with her other hand, pulling me closer and we stroll back to Buckingham Palace Road, turning right at the corner of the building. By the time we reach the entrance to the hotel, I can feel Louisa's weight on me. "Let's stop in one of the sitting rooms and take a short break." I steer Louisa to the left side of the lobby past the staircase and into a small room with comfortable sofas and chairs; I help Louisa to sit and together we watch the foot traffic out the window. After resting about ten minutes Louisa feels strong enough to walk around the hallways of the hotel before going back to our suite.

ME/LE

The aunts decide they will order room service and babysit Phillip, sending us downstairs to the English Grill, where they made reservations for half six.

"I have nothing to wear to a fancy restaurant," says Louisa.

Joan smiles, "Yes you do. While you slept I unpacked your bag and found a beautiful dress a little wrinkled and called the front desk and they sent up a valet, I gave her the dress and she had it pressed and returned it about ten minutes ago. It is hanging in your wardrobe."

Louisa and I go to our bedroom and prepare for dinner out. I busy myself gathering clean clothes and lay them on the bed. I walk into the lavatory to shower and shave to find Louisa in the shower with the water cascading over her shoulders and down her back.

"Louisa, allow me to join you."

"I thought you would never ask," she says with a wicked smile.

I take the flannel from her, apply her liquid soap in it and lather her lovely body, starting at her neck down over her breasts, and then her belly. I reach around and hug her as I gently rub her back and bum. I run the flannel down each leg as she lets the water rinse the foam of the soap away. As I rise I kiss her belly and each breast before I finally reach her lips. I slide my kiss to her cheek, then to my special spot on her neck, and leave a kiss before I whisper, "I love you, Louisa."

"Martin, I love you too."

She takes the flannel from me and rinses it out before applying my bar of soap in it; she lathers it up and slides it across my chest and down my arms. "Turn around, I need to wash you back," she says.

I feel the flannel down my back across my bum, then the wonderful sensation as it passes over my…

"Humm…Louisa we can't…" I reach down and stop her, taking the flannel and rinse my body off. I step out of the stall and wrap the towel around my waist and pull the second towel and hold it up; Louisa turns the taps off and walks into the towel and I enfold her in my arms. Gently rubbing her dry as I caress her lovely body; I know this is all I can provide her at this time. She secures the towel around herself, "Martin, thank you for your caring touch, but like you, when you touch me I am aroused and my condition prevents anything further for some time…oh this is going to be so difficult." Louisa walks out and into the bedroom.

I feel like a heel, thinking of only myself, now what do I do? I walk over to the doorway, watching Louisa as she gathers her clothing when suddenly she stops and looks over towards me,

"Martin, I'm not angry, just frustrated. I would love to jump into bed with you and make mad passionate love with you but common sense is needed. Doctor Thyring mentioned twelve weeks and so did Kevin so when we talk next month with Doctor Gee, we will be four weeks down or eight weeks closer to our goal. I could heal faster or slower so I will just do as the doctors recommend and you, my dear husband, will make sure I do." She now walks towards me, "You will reap the rewards in the end." She leans up kisses my cheek. "Now husband I need my pair of black flats and I can't seem to find them, can you help me when you are done shaving?"

As usual, I misinterpret my wife, she isn't angry with me but our circumstances with her injury. I nod and turn back into the lavatory and start my ablutions. Thirty minutes later she opens the door and steps out of our room and instantly I notice how Louisa's dress hugs her body and realize any man would have flirted with her in the lift. I feel like the luckiest man in the world with Louisa beside me.

Phillip and my aunts are sitting at the table enjoying their evening meal. "You two look nice," Ruth says. "Yes, I agree Ruth," Joan adds. "Phillip, don't your parents look nice together?" Phillip looks at us, but he is more interested in his food and pulls out a green bean to offer us and smiles, "mmm good" he finally says.

"We shouldn't be too late," I say, "We will be longer than just dinner, I plan to take an evening stroll with my wife." I turn and look at Louisa; my need to be with her, alone without Ruth always observing with her prying eyes. I guide Louisa to the door and we escape downstairs to the restaurant.

For Louisa the English Grill is truly an amazing experience; she has never seen anything so refine. The Murano chandlers are breathtaking. We are seated by the glass wall overlooking the pass allowing us to watch some of the action taking place in the kitchen since she loves cooking this was a real treat. For starters I ordered the London smoked salmon, eating and discussing the reality of our growing family as we enjoy our surroundings.

"Are you sure you are happy with this pregnancy Martin?"

I stop the fork just inches from my mouth, laying it back on my plate, I wipe the corners of my mouth with the napkin and look directly at Louisa as I place my hand upon her hand and bring it to my lips kissing it. "Louisa it is a blessing that I thought never would happen in my life. To have a woman as beautiful as you wanting me to beget your children, let alone allow me to love you is the dream of all dreams."

Louisa's eyes fill with happy tears and I pull my handkerchief out of my pocket and lightly touch her tears as they fall down her cheeks. "I am happy Martin, just overwhelmed by hormones. Tell me if I'm carrying twins are my hormones doubled?"

I am about to provide her with a medical lecture when I notice the glint and a small smile cross her face, "Haa…you're teasing me," I say as I raise a questioning eyebrow because I'm not always certain.

"Yes Martin, I am joking. I can see you are very relaxed now considering the shock we received yesterday morning. I thought it was just a weird echo we were hearing until I saw your face, and then I wasn't sure."

"I thought I heard an echo at the beginning of the scan, but it wasn't in unison so I dismissed it as an audio error of the machine. Then Doctor Thyring moved the transducer just a bit, clearly, there were two separate heartbeats. They must have been perfectly aligned is why we didn't see it at first."

At this Louisa pulls the two scans out of her purse and her tears flow once again.

"Take this and wipe your tears. It looks like our mains are coming."

Louisa ordered the Barnsley lamb chop with spring vegetables and I ordered the Billinsgate fish of the day also with spring vegetables. We celebrated with glasses of chilled mineral water and skipped the dessert.

After dinner, we strolled, with her arm through mine and my other hand tightly closed around her hand as we slowly walked in the opposite direction from earlier today towards Palace Street.

ME/LE

At nine fifty our hackneys' pull up to the building for the offices of Alistair Cummings, LTD for our ten a.m. appointment. I help Louisa out and reach back and unbuckle Phillip, taking hold of him, with the other pulling his seat out. Aunt Joan opens the doors leading into a well-decorated entry, with Ruth walking over to the Receptionist announcing our name and appointment time with Mr. Cummings. I place Phillip's seat in the corner out of the way as we are escorted down the hall to a conference room. We are offered refreshments and we decline. I walk over to the window and point out different sites to Phillip as we wait. The door opens a short time later with Alistair and his associate carrying a laptop while he sets up the video system with his computer as I introduce Louisa to Alistair.

Suddenly the 'last will of Christopher Henry Ellingham' is projected on the sixty-inch monitor suspended on the wall, and we all take seats with Phillip sitting on my lap.

"Martin, as the executor of your father's estate, do you want to read it or I can, whatever you wish," announces Alistair.

"No, go ahead," I mumble as I look at my son for comfort as I am not certain what my father has in mind with his will.

"First, as I explained to Ruth yesterday the property Christopher bought for Mary Shaw and son, William Shaw won't be a problem with executing the will as it's attached to the trust. He does not grant them the property, it belongs to his estate in the trust. Now the estate which includes everything in the will goes to only one person and that person when the trust was written with a nameless person, unknown to Christopher. Talking with Ruth yesterday, I was able to put a name to one of the beneficiaries."

I look from the will that is projected on the monitor, to Alistair then over to Ruth as I realize what my father has done. I, as the executor, will be responsible for distributing everything a 'normal father would give to his own only child' to another person; making me feel less wanted than before, my father has the final word on his feelings towards me.

"Martin, your son Phillip Martin Ellingham inherits Christopher's estate and any other children you procreate will share in the trust."

I look down at my son and he looks at me with that smile that melts my heart every day but as my mind processes this information, a question comes to mind. "Alistair, are there any other possible nameless offspring like William out there to challenge the will? And can William challenge?"

"The trust is clear, the only person or persons that can challenge it could be another offspring of yours; see how it is worded, here in paragraph three," he says and with a laser pointer shows the line in question. "Your father wanted the offspring of yours to inherit, no other."

Besides the property in Kensington, what other value did my father have?" I ask. "I remember a few years ago I had to pay my father for half of Joan's farm because he was in dire need of money from his debt. He wouldn't sell the condo in Portugal because it was in my mother's name. He had nothing."

"No, he was well off. He didn't want to touch anything in the trust because Margaret would try to get her hands on it. Christopher knew for a long time that Margaret was unfaithful so he became unfaithful. She was pushing for a divorce for some time and Christopher starting hiding his assets or she would have received at least half. Christopher and my father set up this trust thirty-five years ago without Margaret's knowledge. He had the Portugal property put in her name for more than just a tax write-off, that was his way of paying off his debt to his wife for providing him the heir, a son, you."

"But he tried to steal my farm; if Marty hadn't helped me I would be homeless," states Joan.

"You were never in any danger of losing the farm. Let me explain; Martin's mother knew of the split inheritance of the farm between Christopher and Joan, it was her demand for more money in the divorce. Christopher came to my father, explained the problem. Selling the Kensington property was suggested again he was worried if Margaret found out about the property she would involve the legal system in the divorce and she would receive more than half to include Joan's farm. Margaret had a demand for a certain amount and was willing to end the marriage. Your father had to think of a different way to get the money. He asked my father if you sold your flat when you left London and the answer was no. He used the information my father provided to get the money from you to pay off Margaret Ellingham."

I can't believe what I am hearing; for the sake of my family in this room, I hold my temper. Phillip has sensed my emotions pouring out of me, my anger; he reaches up at that moment, catching his movement I look down at him, he touches my cheeks with his chubby hands, "Wve wo, Dadda." I am caught by surprise and take a deep breath, Louisa slides her hand onto my arm and I further calm down.

"Is there anything you haven't gone over Mr. Cummings," Louisa asks?

"I believe I have covered it all, except the properties to include Kensington and Mr. Shaw. But it isn't anything that can't wait."

"If you are finished we would like to go over the trust and will alone, can you provide a USB fob with all the documents for Martin to read over. I am dealing with a medical issue and need Martin to get me back to the hotel," Louisa says.

Louisa takes hold of my arm, "Martin, help your wife up."

I help Louisa to stand and with Phillip tucked closely to my chest, and Louisa holding my other hand, with squeezes to assure me that we are in this together.

"My assistant has a copy for you along with a USB fob. If there is anything else I can do, don't hesitate to ask. Oh, there is one last thing. I have contacted Margaret Ellingham per Christopher's request."

"Mr. Cummings, please ask your associate to call for 2 hackneys, thank you," Aunt Ruth asks. Ruth walks to the door leading our party out with Joan bringing up the rear, picking up Philips' seat as we leave the law offices of Cummings. Our party is standing in the main lobby of the building, Joan keeping an eye out for our ride and mumbles her disapproval of the actions of her brother and lawyer. She looks over watching Louisa take care of her Marty and is thankful she came back to Portwenn. Ruth watches the interaction between her nephew and his wife, noticing the hurt in his eyes. 'Christopher, you are a bloody bastard.'

End of Chapter

*Conversation is from "The Family Way" Series 2 Episode 6 of Doc Martin.

**I used a translation app for the French conversation. If it is incorrect, I am to blame for my lack of knowledge of the French language.

Hackney carriage refers to a London taxi for hire. The name hackney carriage today refers to a taxicab licensed by the Public Carriage Office, local authority, or the Department of the environment. Motorized hackney cabs in the UK were usually painted black in the past and are well known as black cabs. In London, hackney-carriage drivers have to pass a test called The Knowledge to demonstrate that they have an intimate knowledge of the geography of London streets, important buildings, etc. Learning The Knowledge allows the driver to become a member of the Worshipful Company of Hackney Carriage Drivers. There are two types of the badge, a yellow one for the suburban areas and a green one for all of London. The latter is considered far more difficult. Drivers who own their cabs as opposed to renting from a garage are known as "Mushers" and those who have just passed The Knowledge are known as "Butter Boys". There are currently 21,000 black cabs in London, licensed by the Public Carriage Office.

The Doc would believe that hackneys would be safer for his family due to the intense regulations associated with them. I have always thought if in London I would use "Black Cabs" (they're so British).