The Ardmore Inheritance by Rob Wyllie (reading the story of the .txt) 📕

McLeod is held up with his last patient,' she said, still wearing an expression that said where have I seen you before? 'Shouldn't be more than ten minutes. Just take a seat and I'll call you when he's free.'

Ten minutes. So what were the chances that Dr Flora Stewart would wander into her own reception area during that time and see her sitting there, bold as brass? Quite high, in all probability. But that didn't matter now, because Maggie had worked out exactly what she was going to say in the eventuality. It would require total honesty, the unleashing of the full Miss Emma Woodhouse. He never stops talking about you Flora. Jimmy and I have worked together for nearly two years and I hear it day in day out, just how much you mean to him. He obviously still loves you very much. So when this matter took me to Loch More, then I just had to meet you. I hope you'll forgive me for the terrible subterfuge. It sounded rather plausible, which given it was almost exactly the truth, was perhaps not so surprising. Leaving only one more thing to be decided, something that was rather a dilemma. If she was indeed to encounter Flora, should she let slip that Jimmy was in town too? She thought about what Austen's heroine would do in the same situation, which served to clarify it in her mind. Of course she would tell her.

In the event, the situation did not arise. An elderly woman with a stick tottered out from the door leading to the corridor and handed what Maggie assumed was a prescription to the receptionist.

'Dr McLeod told me to give you this Elaine,' the old lady said, smiling, 'and I've to book a follow-up appointment.'

'Thanks Mrs McPherson,' she said, then looked over to Maggie. 'Dr McLeod's free now Miss Bainbridge. Or should I call you Mrs Brooks?' So that was it then, the cat was well and truly out of the bag now. She shot Elaine a conspiratorial wink on the way past, which wasn't returned. Reaching his consulting room door, she gave a light knock before entering.

'Take a seat Miss Bainbridge,' he said. 'So what can we do for you today?' She guessed he repeated the words about fifty times a day such that it had become an automatic reflex. 'Not in a medical sense of course,' he chuckled, 'although feel free to bring anything up if you wish. No extra charge on this occasion.'

She laughed, grateful to him for putting her at ease. She knew pretty much exactly how old he was after Jimmy had told her about attending his sixtieth birthday party. Sixty-four or sixty-five and so she guessed he must be close to retirement, although she wasn't sure if doctors were allowed to carry on past that age even if they wanted to. He was of medium height but broad-chested, with cropped grey hair and the same piercing green eyes as his daughter. He was wearing a light blue shirt and slim purple tie, the sleeves rolled up above the elbows, straining under bulging biceps. For a man of his age, Dr Angus McLeod looked in good shape.

'I spoke to you briefly on the phone,' she said in way of introduction.

'Ah yes. About the Macallan twins. Elspeth and Kirsty.'

'That's right Dr McLeod. My firm is working for the executors of their father's will. There's this rather awkward provision that we're trying to straighten out.'

McLeod nodded. 'Yes, I think I remember Roderick telling me about it once. Some covenant that an old ancestor put in place, is that it?'

'Yes, that's right. So were you friends with the late Commodore then?'

He gave her a wry look. 'I wouldn't say friends exactly. We knew the family of course, given they own the estate and half of the village too, and they were all patients of ours. We played golf occasionally as well, although that could be rather frustrating.'

She laughed. 'I've never played, but my dad did when he was younger, and he usually came home swearing to himself. Or swearing at himself more accurately.'

'Yes it is a stupidly annoying game, but that's not what I meant. No, what I meant was that arithmetic was never Roderick's strong point.'

'You mean he cheated? Maggie asked, open-mouthed. 'I would have thought that's a capital offence up here.'

He shrugged. 'Everybody knew about it in the club. It's not a reputation that anyone would aspire to, but there you are.'

'Yes, well it was a terrible thing that happened, at Ardmore House.' She wasn't here to dig into the circumstances of the double tragedy, but she left the statement hanging in the air just in case Dr McLeod was prepared to venture an opinion as to what lay behind it all. But she wasn't surprised when he didn't.

'And now there's a will to be sorted out,' he said, his tone now businesslike. 'So what is it you want to ask me in that regard?'

She smiled. 'The will provides that the house and estate must pass intact to the eldest surviving offspring, but no-one seems to know if that was Elspeth or Kirsty, and the twins are each claiming it is them. So you can see my difficulty. Obviously, we wondered if there was anything in their medical records that would prove it one way or the other.'

'Yes, I see,' he said, stroking his chin. 'As it happens, I anticipated your question and so dug out the old paper records. We're all computerised now but we still have the old buff envelopes. But no, there doesn't seem to be anything in them which states which is first born. As you know, had they been born in Scotland it would have been a different matter, because here unlike Canada, the time of birth is entered in the register. Although to be fair, I don't think it is always recorded accurately. But that's irrelevant of course.'

'It must have been a terrible time for the family,' Maggie said.

'Yes