Many thanks for the kind reviews. They are much appreciated.

Back on the Grid approx 4.30 pm

Huddled around Calum's computer the three Senior Officers were taking the opportunity afforded by Harry's absence to speculate upon the messy dynamics of the Pearce Townsend family. The discussion having been kickstarted by a testy Calum reappearing from the interview room in which Graham was currently taking an involuntary sojourn.

By the time Erin and Dimitri had arrived at Thames House the novelty value of Graham's company had well and truly worn off. As a result Erin, in her capacity as Section Chief, had announced that it was Calum's turn to be exposed to the full force of Graham's offensive charm, subject to the medical officer's confirmation that he was fit to complain, shout and eventually co-operate.

On his return from attempting to wring some useful information from Graham the shattered technical officer had flopped into his chair declaiming in all seriousness, "If Catherine is anything like Graham I'd pay the CIA to keep her."

Erin murmured soothingly, "Perhaps she's more like Harry or Jane."

Calum was not to be comforted, "You mean overweight, balding and bad tempered with an attitude problem, or attractive but with a tongue that could petrify a Panzer division –Terrific."

Erin flicking through the sparse Intel they had acquired to date had concerns beyond Calum's masterly dissection of the parental character responsible for moulding the delightful Graham as she sighed, "I hope that this gets us somewhere. Harry is really looking worried. That's understandable. I know how terrified I felt about Rosie being in danger. Have either of you given a thought to the implications of Harry's family being involved and..."

She was halted by a firm interjection from Dimtri, "Yes I had and that gives us a mega problem." Erin and Calum stared as their normally even tempered colleague, having gained their attention, continued. "Listen you two weren't here for Albany. Harry ignored Ruth's advice and took a major chance on trusting Lucas aka Bateman because of their history. You both know what happened, that's how you ended up in Section D. He trusted Elena because of their past involvement and look how that turned out. Harry with emotional investment in an op is dangerous because he doesn't think clearly."

"So what do we do? I might be Section Chief but I can't tell him he's off the case – well I can but I'd like to live."

The trio heaved a group sigh. Harry did many things brilliantly but sitting uninvolved on the sidelines wasn't among them. One of the lesser mysteries of Section D was how Harry the Action Man, unreliable knee not withstanding, had ever been cajoled into mulching down behind a desk. Finally Dimitri came up with a desperate suggestion, "I wonder if Jane could persuade him?"

Erin nearly choked. "Di she's not a spook and they ..."

"I know that, but it does mean that she has a different perspective on him."

Before Erin could muster an answer Calum interrupted, "Yeah, I read about it in the divorce papers..."

Any further conversation was instantly halted by the sight of Harry plunging through the Pods. His worries signalled by his barking without preamble,"Any further news about Laura and Jane?" Everyone turned to Calum for an update.

"They're now nearing the outskirts of London, I've been tracking them through the earrings you forced onto the Grid's very own Essex girl." He caught Harry's expression; plonk a lacy cap on his head and he would have resembled a drag version of unamused Queen Victoria. "Sorry."

Harry's attention was occupied with more pressing matters than rebuking Calum's witticisms "Any sign of danger?"

"Only to Laura's driving licence judging by the speed. Erin sent some of the foot soldiers out in case the CIA try to intercept." Harry nodded at this. "Thanks Erin, Very well, any further Intel?" He sounded commanding but no one was deceived, Harry was increasingly concerned by the lack of progress. Once again all eyes were on Calum who replied calmly, "Can you give me half an hour Harry? Graham gave a good description and I'm trying to match the face we created with the local CCTV and possibly facial recognition."

Harry hoped that Graham hadn't been stringing Calum along as he asked, "Can I see the picture?"

In response Calum turned around the laptop. Two pictures were displayed featuring the same young man, one defined in monchrome and the other coloured as per Graham's description. Harry's eyebrows went up, if this was accurate then Graham had definitely taken a long hard look at his sister's visitor. Who was this stranger and what was he to Catherine? Harry, in the throes of his increasingly contorted involvement with Ruth had never dared ask Catherine about her long term but now seemingly abandoned boyfriend Fabien? He could, he supposed, mention it to Jane. At least that would ensure some conversation during the long reaches of the evening ahead. His speculation concerning his daughter's relationships was disturbed by Erin who'd been staring at the images, a frown wrinkling her normally smooth brow.

"Harry, I don't recognise this person but the face looks vaguely familiar."

Before Harry could reply Dimitri chimed in with, "Yes I agree." Harry was beginning to wonder if Dimitri's yearnings for Erin were transforming him into MI5's version of Little Sir Echo. He was sounding more 'I agree with Nick' by the day, with the minor difference that it was his love life rather than his job that was in peril.

Despite this reflection Harry, on casting a more searching look at the computer screen, also found himself agreeing with the Grid's pair of turtledoves. The face struck a memory chord but from where? Nice normal people recognised others in the context of the school friend, work colleague or fellow hobbyists; spies made instant comparisons with terrorists, drug barons, dodgy businessmen, corrupt politicians and double agents. Interestingly Calum showed no sign of recognition – someone from the field then? That didn't exactly narrow the choice but at least it was a starting point, if, and it was a big if, Graham was accurate. Harry hoped his misgivings weren't justified, Graham had a good brain, he just failed to use it for anything worthwhile. How easily had he co-operated? Harry didn't dare enquire. He wanted to avoid embarrassing his staff by forcing a reply that would, in its, turn embarrass him.

Finally he settled for asking, "Dimitri what did the medics say about your nose?" And then as if it was a casual afterthought, "And is Graham okay, I did hit him rather hard."

Standing behind Harry's back Erin and Calum waited agog to see how Dimtri fielded this one. Their own view was that Harry had rather under reacted. Erin had spent most of the journey back to the Grid fantasising about boiling oil, disembowelling and the fate of Edward the Second while Dimitri, who was a gentler soul, had preferred to ponder the contrasting merits of steamrollers and car crushers. Dimitri responded with smooth tact.

"My nose hurts a bit but it's not quite as painful as Graham's injury. The doctor said no lasting problem, but his love life might be a little painful for the next couple of weeks." He saw no need to appraise Harry that the very idea of Graham breeding had made the team gag. Or his own very private thought that given a choice of bruised appendage he'd take a battered nose any day of the week, especially if there was a chance of bed and breakfast at Erin's this evening. Seeing Calum smirk Dimitri added, "But I don't think Graham took too kindly to Calum's offering him ice cubes to soothe the afflicted area."

Calum glared daggers, but fortunately Harry limited his reply to stating, "Tell me any man who wouldn't wince at that thought. I'm interested though to know what impelled you to make the offer."

Calum opted for truth over diplomacy. "He was moaning that the pain made him unable to think – so I offered therapy for the swollen part. Then he complained that my suggestion would make everything shrivel." Harry didn't need to ask more. Graham obviously hadn't mellowed. It was a minor miracle that Calum had extracted anything useful from him. He was about to risk enquiring how Calum had managed to achieve the seemingly impossible when Calum having second guessed this thought added, "But when I showed him the CCTV of Jane being blasted into the road he blanched and began to shake. I honestly don't think he'd realised just how nearly she'd been killed."

Harry felt some relief, at least if Graham was concerned about his mother and sister a chance of bridge building with the women in the family existed. He'd given up on that eventuality for himself. Before he could comment further Erin chimed in, "Harry we kept Graham in the building."

"Why?"

"Calum had just finished with him when Jane rang in. I wasn't sure if you wanted to let him go since the CIA are targeting your nearest and dearest." Harry picked up on her involuntary note of sarcasm and glared. "I'm afraid it didn't go down well and we had to lock him in."

Hell! The worst possible thing she could have done given Graham's history. Erin went on, "I did send in a meal in as he complained about being hungry." Deciding to follow where Calum had led she detailed the remainder of Graham's extended litany." And then he complained about the uncomfortable chairs, the unsympathetic doctor, the police targeting him, the repressive regime we represent, the food we brought him..." she tailed off in a way worthy of Laura as Harry caught her eye, pulled herself up and concluded, "Basically his life, the universe and everything."

With a distinct lack of enthusiasm Harry groaned. "Thanks Erin. I suppose I'd better go and talk to him."

The team picked up the tone but held their collective peace, keen spooks though they were, and much as they wanted to ease Harry's burden none of them was going to volunteer for another face to face with Graham. Face to fist possibly.

Harry thought for a moment and then demanded, "Calum bring me one of those small trackers, the ones that can be fitted onto a belt to look like a stud."

While Calum disappeared in search of the gadget Harry turned to Dimitri with one word. "Garside."

"Not speaking beyond saying he doesn't really know anything at all."

Harry snorted, "So he was just sitting by accident outside my daughter's flat, not catching a bus and it was sheer chance that the next person - what did happen to the other man?"

"Tracker went dead about an hour ago. Could mean they found it, nothing concrete yet. Erin thought we'd keep Garside until we get a more definite lead and then have another go. Calum has some of the junior officers combing the CCTV."

Calum reappearing added, "With the time they've spent staring at computers we'll be taking out a contract with Specsavers." As he handed Harry a small package he continued, "Here's the tracker Harry. It's state of the art, but not as obvious as Jane's earrings, I doubt they'd suit Graham – he's been quite definite on the issue of being heterosexual." 'As in announcing that I'd better not be a bum bandit or he'd smash my face in.'

Harry grimaced slightly, "They didn't suit Jane either." Thinking about Jane he instructed, "When she and Laura get in bring them straight to Graham. Jane will want to see him and I need to have a few words with Laura." As he turned to leave he heard Erin whisper, "Goodbye Laura I trust." Harry feigned deafness; dealing with Graham was his immediate priority.

Once Harry was safely out of earshot Calum turned to Erin, "Does Jane strike you as insane?" Erin shook her head. "Thought not, so why on earth would she even admit giving birth to Graham, let alone wanting to see him?"

Erin threw him a slightly superior smile. "It's called mother love."

Calum was rendered speechless as he struggled not to snigger at the sight of Dimitri standing behind Erin tapping the side of his head with his index finger. A gesture that would, had Erin been blessed with a spare pair of eyes, destroyed the promise of the evening ahead.

Harry as he made his way to the interview rooms clutching the tracker preferred not to contemplate the words Graham had used to entertain his team. He didn't suspect; he knew that they had all conspired to redact the foul mouthed details. Instead, as if he'd been thrown three decades backwards in time, he preferred to ruminate upon the options available to him to preserve the safety of Jane and their children. He'd succeeded in doing so all those years ago but at the price of his family life going completely awry, as in vanishing altogether. He wasn't unaware of the irony that told him the very reason they now needed him now was due to the danger they were all in, made manifest by the events of the past few hours. He only took a grim pleasure in being wanted by them at long last. He couldn't entirely banish the dispiriting thought that it was his skills they wanted, not him as a person, or that Jane's continuing acceptance of his hospitality was motivated by simple expediency. The prospect of facing Graham was depressing enough. His own son and they couldn't even manage two sentences without coming to blows. How had it ever got to this point?

If he'd hoped that a long wait and decent meal had softened Graham's stance Harry would have been disappointed. Fortunately he was a realist and therefore not particularly surprised when, upon unlocking the room, his appearance was instantly greeted by yet another self pitying tirade couched in language that made Harry wish he'd substituted Jane's bar of soap for the tracker.

Graham finally ended with the sneer, "The great Sir Harry Pearce. God they'll knight anyone these days."

Privately Harry agreed. A title that had also been generously bestowed upon various political brown nosers, not to mention a geriatric song and dance poser with a prominent chin, a croaking remnant from the sixties whose chief claim to fame was the statement that he couldn't get any satisfaction, plus a motley assortment of thespians who put the 'luv' into luvvie, wasn't in his view any great honour at all. National treasures they may be but in his jaded opinion most of them should have remained buried. He really thought that if Her Gracious Majesty was minded to bestow a knighthood upon Mr Golden Balls, accompanied by the Lady Posh, he might consider committing treason again just to get rid the handle. However seeing no need to encourage Graham in his delayed adolescent rebellion he ignored the insult as he replied,

"Graham you are free to go but before you do please hear me out."

"When have you ever bloody well listened not to us? Don't know who's worse for kidding me that you care, you or that sodding tosser Robin"

"I can't answer for Robin and you'll never believe me whatever I say Graham. However your mother does care, very much, and that's why I need you to wear this for the next few days. At least until we find out what's happened to Catherine." With that Harry handed Graham the tracker.

Graham examined it for a few minutes before expostulating, "Dad is this what I think it is – Great you damage my groin and now you want to listen in to my sex life, you prurient bastard"

Harry's response was crisp. "Graham it's a tracker not a bug and for the record I've listened to more tapes of people shagging that the average porn producer, it comes with the job. These days I get my buzz from whisky. I need to track you for other reasons. Your mother's house was staked out by the CIA."

Astonished by that last sentence a shaken Graham finally dropped the attitude. For the first time in the day he sounded almost normal, "What – and why?"

"That, as Shakespeare put it Graham, is the question."

"And don't get started on bloody Shakespeare. I had enough of that from Mum." Graham thought for a moment and then shouted, "So that's why you're pretending to care. You're just using her – what's this about her advising your officer? Sodding typical. You use everyone."

Glad to get onto slightly more neutral ground Harry offered an explanation, "Actually it was PC Bleeding Nose who asked. He's a bit stuck as he doesn't understand the arty crowd. Your mother's going with him to sort out the details of some Shakespearian presentations at a Reception later this week."

Graham's face suddenly lit up with an expression of amused horror that reminded Harry of the drug free boy he'd occasionally caught sight of: "And I thought you liked him! Mum on Shakespeare –God help him! You're talking about the woman who once spent half an hour helping Catherine with her homework by giving her a lecture on the use of the word tongue in Richard the Second. But then you weren't there were you. Never bloody were."

Harry had wondered how long it would take to revert to this grievance. While he could make several allowances for Graham's disaffection with life he was seriously wondering if anything would every return Graham to the normal boy he'd once known. Then again had he ever really known his son? Graham had been three when Jane had demanded the divorce. It may have been nearly another decade before she and Robin married but his access to the children had been curtailed by the demands of his job, the only thing that had kept him sane. Equally damaging, as he'd realised too late, had been the insidious comments of Robin. Harry wasn't exactly absolving Jane from her part in that but he had experienced enough loneliness himself over the past few years to understand how, when feeling neglected and let down by her husband, she'd fallen for Robin's smooth self publicising claptrap. Besides in the present day he was inclined to endorse Jane's opinion that Graham at his age was now responsible for his own choices, or was he? Had drugs affected him long term? Tempted as Harry was to take his son by the shoulders and shake him until his eyeballs rattled he opted for a gentler way of reminding Graham that he was not the only person to exist.

"Your Mum's safe, thanks for asking. But if the CIA went after her, they may go after you. I don't think she could take losing both her children in forty eight hours and I want to prevent that happening. I could send you to a safe house but – forgive me for saying this Graham - with the time you've spent in small enclosed spaces in Rehab and cells you'd be climbing up the walls, so this is the next best option."

Graham looked as if he'd received a Damascene revelation – "Hell this isn't an act is it. You really do care about her." Watching Graham struggle to assimilate this strange concept Harry remained silent. After about thirty seconds Graham returned to a modified attack. "Well if you do care about her do something to get that second disaster she married out of her hair. Then I might start believing you."

Harry's face developed the jaw clenching, eye sparking furious cast he usually adopted whenever he thought about Robin. Now was not the time to remind Graham of how cheerfully he'd espoused all Robin's liberal notions concerning the state.

"I can't do that until your mother tells me what is really up and.." He was interrupted by Graham. "I can tell you that, Robin's quite literally up the skirt of some teenage tart and..."

"Maybe Graham, I'd already guessed that a younger woman was involved from something your mother said earlier but..."

Graham was on a furious roll as he continued, "Younger! The little trollop is hardly out of nappies and yet Mum refuses to divorce him! We rowed about it – I mean why not get shut of him? She left you...God she sure picks them."

Harry now knew why the religious prayed not to fall into temptation; it proved irresistible as he asked Graham in a faked spirit of innocent enquiry, "Are you by any chance you saying that a representative of the Gestapo has his uses?"

Distracted by their conversation neither had heard the approach of stealthy footsteps until a voice wandered into the room closely followed by its owner, "I'm back and still in one piece, thanks to Laura."

Harry looked over towards the doorway where a shrinking Laura was valiantly attempting to blend with the paintwork. "Ah Laura, quite an exciting journey I hear. How many speeding tickets did you collect?"

In her nervous state Laura completely missed the warm inflection in his voice. "S, S, Sorry Sir but I thought we should get home quickly."

Harry reverted to command mode as he replied, "At least you've proved you can think, I've sometimes wondered. Very well Miss Dixon I need your report asap and please do not leave the Grid. I'll see you in my office in fifteen minutes, is that clear?"

Laura disappeared, obviously terrified that she might get lost within the bowels of Thames House and be late for the meeting, the confident glow she'd radiated earlier extinguished. Jane noticed this and in spite of having wanted desperately to get back to Harry was now wondering if it was an indictable offence to thump the Head of Section D. She opened her mouth but her words remained stillborn when Harry interrupted. "Jane and I think you and Graham need to talk. Graham, please remember what I've said. I'll send Erin down to collect you in a few minutes." With that he left, pleased to have avoided any major scenes. As relations with Graham went their discussion had verged on the civilised.

Jane and her son were left staring at each other. Finally Graham broke the silence. "Sorry Mum."

"Sorry for what? For not speaking to me for eighteen months, for being so damn rude to your father's staff, for yelling about Robin in front of your father. The one thing I didn't want him to know about was the mess I've made of my life since we last met."

"Mum I'm sorry, but don't you think Dad would've found out eventually. For God's sake he's a spy not a pen pushing civil servant. Anyway what makes you think his life is such a success – he's never remarried has he. I'll keep in touch. Tell Dad I'll wear his tracker until I hear otherwise but I still don't want to have anything to do with him. I've told his dogsbody what they need to help find Catherine."

"Thanks. I'm sure he'll appreciate that."

Graham snarled, "I bet he will, Daddy's little girl, always his favourite – save her life in sodding Lebanon. Never comes near me."

Despite his attempts to mollify her Jane felt the now familiar exasperation with her son welling up.

"Well do you give the impression that you want him to? You've just told me you don't want anything to do with him. I've shoved him away for years as well and he's respected that. He could have walked away from me last night but he didn't. And with the events of this afternoon I'm damn glad that I swallowed some of my pride and accepted his help."

Graham's scowl made it clear that in his opinion she'd turned Quisling. He gave an exhausted harrmph as he pushed past her in his efforts to leave, accidently brushing her injured shoulder. The anguished "Oww" this brought forth reminded him what he'd seen on the CCTV and Calum's very unminced words about the danger she'd been in. Instantly contrite and with great reluctance he felt forced to admit, "Well at the moment you're probably better off with Dad than Rob the Knob. At least Dad can defend you against all comers including the CI bloody A."

As if the phrase had touched a memory he suddenly added, "I've just remembered. The bloke I described..." Jane waited, "He sounded English but I think he might have been American. His voice was a bit like Daniel's"

This was not a statement that would have made much sense to others but it did to Jane. Daniel had been a school friend of Graham's in the days before drugs took over his life. Born American, brought up in England his accent. although English, occasionally carried the slight cadence of transatlantic vowels.

"Are you absolutely sure about that, because following a false lead could have disastrous results for your sister." Jane tried but failed to avoid a slight sob creeping into her voice. Graham nodded unable to bring himself to comment on her evident distress.

"I'll pass it on, and Graham do think about trying to talk to your father occasionally. Despite all the evidence to the contrary he is human."

"If you prick us do we not bleed?" Give it a rest Mum this is real life not sodding Shakespeare. He's a bloody robot for the state. That's all he cares about." As if to compensate for the harshness of his comments about his father Graham gave her a quick hug, just as Erin suddenly materialised at the doorway. Her arrival prevented Jane from arguing her point. Following Erin as she guided them through the labyrinth that was Thames House Jane shook her head sadly. For years she'd influenced the children against Harry. She only wished some of her classroom lessons had been as successful.

Upstairs on the Grid a very nervous Laura was waiting for Harry, her worries made worse by his arrival back on the Grid when Harry had walked straight past her without a glance and hauled Erin into his office. Erin left looking extremely unhappy and shot Laura a furious look on her way to the pods saying, "You're to go in now." Her face implied 'You're for it.'

Few people obeyed a summons to partake of a private interview in Harry's office without apprehension and Laura was no exception to that rule. Trembling she approached the inner sanctum and carefully knocked on the door. Everyone knew that Sir Harry roared at anyone who didn't, although rumour held that the last permanent Intel analyst had been able to get away with it. On the command, "Come in," she entered saying as she did, "Sorry Sir I haven't quite finished my report but..." The expression on Harry's face made her falter.

He didn't invite her to sit as he began: "Miss Dixon I took you into this section on probation. For the last few weeks I've seriously wondered and still do as to whether if confronted with a terrorist you'd be saying sorry as you shot him..." Laura gulped, here it came, the dismissal. "I said that I would give you my decision when I'd made it. I have done so and require your signature on this paper stating that your probation is at an end." Laura could feel the tears pricking her eyes. She'd tried so hard and failed. Behind them was also a sense of burning injustice, she'd worked so hard, done her best and today had even managed to outwit the CIA. What more did the bloody man want? Had he expected her to dive out of Jane's house and indulge in TV style kickass karate chops or tackle the two men with kitchen implements adapted into an effective garrotte? She wanted to shout this out loud but decided that it would be preferable to leave with an icy dignity. Picking up a pen she signed on the line Harry had indicated.

"Very well Miss Dixon, assuming that you wish to remain with Section D.." Ehh had she heard correctly? Harry had obviously expected an answer. "Well do you?"

"Sorry Sir, Yes Sir, very much Sir Harry." Laura babbling in her eagerness made Harry smile inwardly. He remembered once being enthusiastic himself. Where had it all gone? Tempered mainly by age, disaster and death combined with a liberal flavouring of betrayal and disappointment.

"Then please sign this for the HR department."

Picking up the paper Harry continued, "I'd advise you to try to break the habit of apologising every other minute but if you must you must. What is important Laura is whether you can cope with the unexpected and be prepared – you proved today that you can. You still need further training and have a long way to go but well done. And thank you for keeping Mrs Townsend safe."

"Er..."

"Yes Laura, something to add?"

"I'm not sure that I should say anything Sir, it's just..well... I'm not certain...but.."

Harry was beginning to wonder if he'd live long enough to hear the end of her sentence.

"Well if I hadn't known better I'd have thought that ..."

"Thought what?"

"That Mrs Townsend didn't live there." As Sir Harry stared at her she ploughed on, "It's just I saw nothing that looked personal in the house." Should she add anything else? Laura saw Sir Harry looking at her with interest, that made a pleasant change so she decided to push it further. "The reason we got away Sir was because Jane.. er... Mrs Townsend asked me to park on the green." She hesitated again.

Harry realising she was uncomfortable prompted her, "Why do you think she did that?"

"I'm not sure Sir, she said she wanted to be in and out quickly to avoid the neighbour over the road who's chatty but ..well... but I think the real reason was she didn't want to be seen. At least obviously she didn't want to be seen by the neighbour but I meant others as well. Not just the CIA because we weren't.." Oh God she was babbling like an idiot. Any minute now Sir Harry would change his mind, she'd been so near and blown it.

An interesting revelation indeed. Little did Laura know it but her last few sentences had just confirmed to Harry that he'd made the right decision. She'd been afraid but she'd done what she saw as her duty in reporting an uneasy feeling without any prior Intel to work on. Harry thought she was probably accurate as well. Combined with Graham's information, Jane's statements and his own unease he was curious but he hid it behind an impassive face as he said; "Thanks Laura. I appreciate the confidence but it might be better if Mrs Townsend doesn't know we had this conversation"

"Yes Sir. Official secrets and all that?" It was a question.

His response was dry, "Mrs Townsend as you know is my ex wife. That makes her part of my private life and that is an Official Secret. Now Laura I need your report."

Laura withdrew in short order but as she danced back to her desk Harry, gazing through the glass panels of his office wall, saw her punching the air in glee. Well it was nice to make someone happy for once although Erin wasn't about to high five with Laura any time soon. She'd spent a good few minutes arguing about Harry's decision, citing lack of discretion, lack of self respect as evidenced by Laura's personal appearance and lack of confidence. Considering Jane's earlier analysis Harry thought the main objection was the diffident Laura's unwillingness try to progress by currying favour with her superiors; a trait which definitely made her his type of officer.

Thoughts of the misery he so often brought reminded him he was due in the Briefing Room in a few minutes. The sound of the pods opening reached his ears. Looking across at Jane and Erin emerging he began to wonder if he'd ever again manage to bring a look of joy to Jane's face. His mirror told him that he was no longer the love's young dream she'd mistakenly married, he hadn't been for years, but he now had a slight chance of proving to her that he wasn't the total nightmare she'd once accused him of being.

Watching her walking onto the Grid he remembered the last time he thought he'd had a second chance. The one he'd destroyed so spectacularly with an ill thought out, ill phrased marriage proposal. He pushed the hope away. If he didn't blow it himself, fate would probably do it for him. Just accept it. Sir Harry Pearce super spy was now so incapable of functioning outside that world he didn't do or deserve personal happiness. Even so as he saw Jane approach his office his spirits lifted just a notch, until she stormed in without knocking saying in a furious voice.

"Harry. A word. Now."

For the benefit of readers not based in the UK the song and dance man referred to was Bruce Forsyth, I cut a reference to Jimmy Saville as that is a situation which has ceased to be anything other than appalling. 'I agree with Nick' was a phrase used in the three leaders debate by the then Primeminster Gordon Brown with reference to the utterances of the leader of the minority Lib Dem party.

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