The Martin Chronicles Part II: The House of Ellingham

Chapter 1: The Phone Call

Martin stood outside on the stone terrace with his cup of morning coffee in hand. He was watching as the sun rose behind Fern Cottage, illuminating the village and harbour below, when the call came.

He had been thinking back on the turbulent summer that had seen him on the verge of packing up his family and leaving Portwenn for good for a new life back in London. It had taken a serious accident, and some reflection on his arrival here years ago, to change his mind. Now the boxes had all been unpacked and the furnishings placed back in their proper spaces in the house, and the family finally settled back in a comfortable routine. James was back in school, Mary was back on her schedule, and Louisa had reopened her child counselling practice.

There was a nip in the sea breeze hinting that autumn was on the doorstep. He rubbed the scar that was healing well on his arm and took a warming sip of coffee, when he felt his mobile vibrate in his jacket pocket and answered it. "Ellingham!"

"Is this, er… Martin Ellingham?" inquired the voice of an elderly man.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"This is Thomas Cooper, with Cooper Simons solicitors. I have some bad news… or perhaps it might be good news, I suppose it's all how you look at it. I was trying to reach Mr. Christopher Ellingham. He was quite the eminent surgeon back in the day, you know. He performed abdominal aortic surgery on me years ago, very serious, but he pulled off a lifesaving miracle. Quite brilliant at his profession, you know."

"Yes, of course I know. I'm his son."

"Oh, of course, of course. As I said," the man continued. "I was trying to reach him and I spoke to his wife Margaret Ellingham, or rather his widow. Sadly, she informed me he had passed on."

"Are you calling to tell me that? He's been gone some time now."

"Oh no, no, that's not why I'm calling at all. Or rather," the man reconsidered, "on second thought it's related to why I'm calling, actually quite related. Mr. Christopher Ellingham, your late father, was the second cousin of Sir Matthew Penrose Tremethyk Ellingham, who retained the services of our firm for many years. We are the executors of his estate. He's passed on, very recently, that's the news I'm delivering. Your father was his closest surviving relative, only it turns out he hasn't survived, and now you're his closest surviving relative. So you see, it's certainly all related, because you're all related. That's I've rung you Mr. Ellingham."

"It's Dr. Ellingham."

"Sorry! I thought you were a surgeon like your father. Surgeons are addressed as Mr., are they not? Or Ms., depending on their circumstances. I thought it was traditional."

"I was a surgeon, I'm a GP now, so I'm Dr. Ellingham."

"Oh that's a rather unusual career path, isn't it, surgeon to general practitioner. How did that come about?"

Martin was getting impatient with this garrulous solicitor. "Never mind that. What does Sir Matthew's passing have to do with me? You do know I have an aunt who is also a surviving relative, Ruth Ellingham. She's currently out of the country."

"I should clarify, you're now Sir Matthew's closest surviving male relative. I think you'll find that's relevant. We will unseal and read the will next Monday morning. The reading will take place at our regional office in Plymouth. I'm afraid I can't tell you much more than that, but I do believe it will be in your interest to be there, yes, very much in your interest, I can tell you that much. I'll have my secretary send you the address and time."

To be continued…