New Horizons was located on the outskirts of London in a small grove of trees so old that a couple of lindens perfumed the air around the care home. It had originally been a large mansion dating back to the 1500s, and had been converted to a care home at the turn of the 20th century. There were sixty beds in all, half of them in large airy wards, with the rest distributed between single and double rooms. It boasted a gourmet chef trained in Paris, and the grounds were carefully landscaped to create easy walks for recovering patients. There was even a small stream at one edge of the property.

Cowley spent his first morning at New Horizons having breakfast in bed, then called the front desk and asked to take a walk. Dr Pearson was promptly summoned to examine the patient. "As I said, Mr Fenton, you are in good shape considering your recent illness but I don't think you're quite ready to go outside." He picked up the phone. "Please send an orderly to room 17."

Doyle arrived promptly. "Yes, Dr Pearson?"

"Please take Mr Fenton to the solarium." The doctor smiled at Cowley. "It's not quite outside but it does have flowers and plenty of sunshine."

Cowley smiled back. "Thank you, doctor." He sighed. "I just wish I had some family to visit me. It's hard depending on strangers for everything."

"Oh, you mustn't think of yourself as a stranger," said Pearson encouragingly. "Here at New Horizons we like to think of everyone as family. It's a cliche, but we do our best to make it true for everyone who comes here."

He stood back and watched approvingly as Doyle bundled Cowley into the wheelchair and rolled him out of the room.

They went into the solarium, a big cast iron cage with hardwood flooring glowing in the sun. There were flowering plants and a fountain in the center of the floor and comfortable chairs and sofas. A couple of tables held books and magazines.

Cowley said softly, "So far this place does seem a cut above the average care home."

"It does, doesn't it?" murmured Doyle. "I rather think we're barking up the wrong tree."

"We shall see." Cowley moved from the wheelchair to a sofa and raised his voice. "Thank you, young man. Can I get a cup of tea?"

"Right away, sir."

Doyle left, and Cowley continued to admire the beautiful room, warm and inviting with sunshine pouring through windows so clean they seemed invisible. Early as it was, there were several other patients; a young woman with her leg in a cast drowsing in an easy chair, an older woman with the pinched face of chronic illness leafing through a magazine, and a man about Cowley's age looking about. He caught the CI5 commander's eye and smiled.

Cowley smiled back and the man came over. "May I join you?"

"Please."

The man settled into a chair. "Eric Chamberlain, duodenal ulcer."

The introduction made Cowley chuckle, and he promptly reciprocated. "Harcourt Fenton, recent pneumonia."

Chamberlain shot the other man a keen look. "You seem fine."

"Ach, I'm sure I am." Cowley said self-deprecatingly, "I don't have any family and when I got out of hospital, I missed the attention. I'll only be here for a few days."

"I say, you picked a good place," said Chamberlain. "I'd rather be here than a five star hotel." He raised a hand and a staff member, a good-looking girl in a grey uniform, hurried over.

"Yes, Mr Chamberlain?"

"Cuppa tea, Alice, and some scones with jam and clotted cream." He raised his eyebrows at Cowley.

"Oh, I have tea coming." Cowley nodded at Doyle. "Here it is." He took the tea, nodded his thanks, and turned his attention back to Chamberlain. "Have you been here before?"

"Twice." Chamberlain spotted Alice coming and thanked her effusively as she drew up a table and set out his tea. She left, and he spread jam and clotted cream on a scone, took a big bite, and sighed, "They have an excellent pastry chef. Best scones I ever had." He proffered the tray. "Have one?"

"I think I will." Cowley fixed a scone and after trying it, he said, "You're right. This is delicious." The two men munched in silence for a moment, then Cowley said confidentially, "I don't have any family so I can pretty much do as I like with my money. I was thinking of making a donation, or possibly even leaving this place a bequest."

"I already have." Chamberlain grinned. "Gave my kids absolute fits. Oh, I left them each a million pounds, just so they would have something to fall back on, but the bulk of my estate has been left to New Horizons. They're private, you know, they need all the help they can get. Mind you, they'll have to wait a goodish time to see my money." He struck his chest. "Thanks to this place I'm healthy as a horse."