Author's note: as you know, we write these stories because people enjoy them. We do not receive payment, nor do we seek it. I only write ILM stories because I enjoyed the show, and even though my ego would like to think you read my stories because you like my writing, I know it is largely because we love the characters and hate the way the show ended. It is real to us because of the skill of the actors, primarily Nathaniel Parker and Sharon Small.

Nat is now seeking the help of his fans to help fund his new project, Annabel Lee, a short film he wants to make with his daughter. Initially, I was a bit unsure if I agreed with asking fans for money, but the more I thought about it, the more supportive I became, including financially. It is a great way to give something back for the pleasure ILM has given us, and the entertainment Nat has provided through all his work. They were paid for their acting, but we continue to enjoy re-runs for which they get no royalties. They have done hours of interviews, unpaid promotional work, and of course charity work. If you can, go to his webpage (his name dot com) and follow the link in his latest message. If nothing else, you can hear him reading the poem. So, if you can spare a few dollars - perhaps just the cost of the cup of coffee you might drink when you read here - or if spread the word through your networks, Nat would be grateful.

It is also one way of paying me back too for any enjoyment you get from my Tommy and Barbara stories. And, if he gets the funds, I will write an M-rated Xmas treat. It ends on Dec 11, so please don't delay.

Henrietta's house was a Neo-Georgian red brick mansion so typical of Mayfair. Barbara started at the outside. "It's twice the size of yours."

Tommy smiled. "I thought you were impressed with the size of mine."

"Yours is big. This is... ginormous."

"Mine is a classic."

Barbara began to laugh. "So it's old?"

"No, mine is a genuine Regency townhouse. This is a 1920s replica of..."

Barbara rolled her eyes then grinned. "You are sensitive about the size."

"I am not."

"Mitty! Mitty!" Henrietta ignored the weird squabbles of the adults and ran to the door.

"The cat. I forgot about him." Tommy winced and looked pleadingly at Barbara. "Do you think...?"

"Cats are survivors. He probably killed a squirrel or a small bird."

"Barbara!"

"I was joking." She was enjoying teasing him a little too much. His vulnerability in the face of not being the richest or smartest was somehow sexy. She wanted to kiss the wounded look off his face. She took pity on him. "I sent PC Smithers over here. He has given the cat to the neighbour."

Tommy leant over and gave her a quick kiss. "How would I ever cope without you?"

She smiled. "You wouldn't. Never have."

"True."

"Tommy-Daddy, where's Mitty?"

"With your neighbour." Tommy looked at Barbara seeking clarification on which neighbour. She shrugged and smiled. He looked left then right and was saved by the door of a neighbour swinging open.

"Hello, Henrietta."

"Hello, Mrs Gilchrist. Have you seen Mitty?"

"Yes, dear. He's in my backyard."

Henrietta grabbed Barbara's hand. The child looked at the kindly old lady suspiciously. "Is Mitty... dead?"

The elderly lady with the smart turquoise twin-set and grey skirt had been smiling, but now her face fell along with her middle-class reserve. "No, he's fine. I put a box out for him, and he's sitting in the sun."

"Mitty likes boxes. Daddy used to call them his cat trap." Henrietta shook off Barbara's hand and stepped towards the older woman. "Come on, Babra, come and meet Mitty."

Barbara took one look at Mitty and almost laughed. He was a doppelgänger for Grumpy Cat. Spooky light eyes set within a mask of black stared at her. The cat seemed to judge Barbara as it looked down its long white nose. It found her wanting and flicked one of its black ears in disdain.

"Mitty doesn't like me," Barbara announced.

"Nonsense," Tommy said. "Hello, Mitty."

In contrast, Mitty almost smiled at His Lordship, and when he tickled it under the ear, it began to purr so loudly that its body shook.

"Told you. He loves you."

"Animals are astute judges of character. He senses you don't like him."

"He's right. And to think I'm the one who thought about you, you mangy..."

"Mitty's not mangy," Henrietta said.

"Sorry... it's a... term."

Henrietta shook her head precisely the way Tommy often did then handed Mitty to Barbara and took her father's hand. "We should go in, Tommy-Daddy. I need to say goodbye."

Barbara sighed as she clutched the cat around its neck. There was something heavy on its collar. She turned to examine it. "Tommy."

"Mmm?"

"Mitty has a capsule on his collar with your name on it."

"What? Show me."

Barbara held the cat out but much to her annoyance, Tommy only undid the blue collar and examined it.

"What's that Tommy-Daddy?"

"I don't know. Did Mitty have this collar before?"

The girl shook her head. "No, he had a green one. Daddy flead him before we went away."

"Looks like he put a new collar on him too. Let's get inside and have a look."

Tommy was worried that Henrietta would find the house distressing, or else refuse to leave. She ran up the stairs to her bedroom. Tommy followed and watched her search her room. "What are you looking for?"

The girl shrugged. "Just checking it was the same. Can I fetch my present?"

Tommy felt Barbara's hand slip inside his palm. He squeezed gently. "Yes, Henrietta."

They followed her into Aidan and Inga's bedroom. A series of mismatched white frames adorned one wall, all filled with photos of their family. Tommy noticed one with him holding Henrietta when she was a baby. He did not remember it being taken, but he was pleased to see it. It reinforced he had been in her life from the start.

Henrietta disappeared into the cavernous walk-in wardrobe. "In here."

"Okay," he called. He turned to Barbara. "Can you supervise while I try to open this... thing?"

"Sure." Barbara put the cat on the floor. It slinked off in a huff.

Tommy sat on the chair underneath the window. Unlike his house, all the furniture was modern and minimalist. With clean lines and bold colour schemes, it was not to his taste, but it did suit the personalities of his friends. He studied the small grey cylinder as he turned it over in his hands. It was heavy and appeared solid but did not seem metallic. Apart from his name expertly engraved on the side, there were no joints or lines. He tried screwing, pushing, pulling, rotating and swearing at it, but the cylinder did not budge. Just as he thought he had a solution, his phone rang. "Lynley."

"Stuart here. The code wasn't right, so I'm afraid we are no closer to deciphering the chip. It was a long shot expecting a child to know."

Tommy frowned. "Yes, although she was so certain. Never mind. Keep trying, and thanks."

Henrietta returned with a parcel that her arms could only just hold and sat on the floor at his feet. "Look Tommy-Daddy."

"What do you have there?"

"My present. Do I have to wait until next week?"

"No. You have special dispensation to open it."

"What's that?"

"Dispensation? Er, like an exemption from the rule that says you should wait."

"How do spell it?"

"Oh, um, D-I-S-P-E-N-S-A-T-I-O-N."

"Okay, that's only 14. Not worth the tiles."

Tommy smiled at Barbara who was standing behind his daughter shaking her head. "Go on, open it." He was intrigued that Barbara was so certain what it contained, and frustrated that she would not tell him. But he would be able to tell if she was pretending. Henrietta painstakingly removed the sellotape. Inside was a black box about the size of an A3 ream of paper.

"Oooo," Henrietta said looking inside. "It's a laptop." She looked at the sky and smiled. "Thank you, Mummy. Thank you, Daddy."

"Turn it on," Barbara said encouragingly. Tommy could see from her slightly smug grin that she had guessed correctly.

Henrietta let out a frustrated groan. "It has a password, and I don't know it."

Barbara knelt down beside her. "Try the one you gave Unc Stuart."

"Okay." Henrietta's fingers flew skilfully over the keyboard. "Oh, Babra, you are clever."

"Come up here and let's see what you have."

Henrietta scrambled up onto his knee. It was a sensation Tommy knew he would never tire of feeling. Every minute, Henrietta seemed to get more precious too him. Barbara sat beside them. "Look," Henrietta exclaimed, "it has games and music and oh..."

"What?"

Henrietta pointed to the screen. "There's a video called For Unc Tommy."

"Oh?" Tommy and Barbara looked at each other.

Henrietta looked up at both of them. "Do I have to go to my room?"

Tommy wrapped his arm around her waist. "No, but if you want to, you may."

She shook her head. "No."

"Let's see what he has to say."

Henrietta's fingers shook as she opened the video. She pressed back against Tommy and took Barbara's hand as her father appeared."

"Tommy, thank you. I know this is all a shock and you are probably angry and confused about my secrecy and lies. I get that and know you will understand that I did what I had to do. Keep Henrietta safe. I know you will and that is the most important thing to me. I adored her, and I am sure you do too." Tommy kissed the top of the child's head as Aidan continued. "Tommy, the key to all this is on the Mitty's collar. There is a sealed tube that contains the three DNA sequences for the Gifted Ones. Inga and I were born as part of the programme. Our DNA was extracted at birth, and then we were neutered to ensure we did not breed with ordinary folk and dilute the species. Yes, the Masters of the Diamond Lance have understood the role of DNA for decades. They are far more advanced than modern science. Huh, isn't that term a joke. We have been in danger since my Master stole a DNA sample from Henrietta and found she had Gifted One DNA. So I stole the sequencing. I also took the account records which you can use to trace the members. The code word is 'Tommy Lynley's daughter' followed by our house phone number from Eton. Use the spaces and punctuation you would if you wrote it. Take the cylinder to Copenhagen. In Central Station there is a bookstall. Go there and ask for the limited edition of Vanity Fair. You will be asked to pay exactly four times the price on the sticker. That is how you will know it id the correct book. Henrietta will be able to decipher my next instruction hidden in there. Take care. Look after our darling daughter and remind her everyday that we loved her. This video only opens once, so if you are unclear, replay it now. Good luck, Tommy. I know you can fix my mess."

"Am I the reason Daddy is dead?"

Tommy hugged his daughter close. "No. It is not your fault. It is the horrible men who want to engineer society to their ends."

"Huh?"

"It's not your fault, Henrietta. Never think that."

"Okay." She hopped down and went to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Copenhagen. It'll be cold. I need my coat."