…Dr Phillip Matthews, obstetrician and an early pioneer of embryo diagnosis was found hanged in his home in the remote Scottish Highlands earlier this week. Foul play is not suspected. Dr Matthews was recently in the news…
…And now the Shipping Forecast issued by the Met. Office on behalf of the Maritime and Coastguard Agency at 00.15 on Friday 4th May… Thames, Dover, Wight, Portland, Plymouth south-westerly 4 or 5 becoming 6. Occasional rain. Good becoming moderate…
At the break of a sunny May morning, slightly more than two months after Robert Perrin… aka Jonah Royston… had finally been put to rest, the two plus two crew of the magnificent fifty-eight-foot Sweet Dreams II prepared to leave port.
‘Rosie, darling, what’s wrong? Are you having second thoughts?’
‘About the crossing? No, not at all. I was just remembering that day. You have to allow me a small regret. He was their father. And this feels like we’re finally leaving him behind.’
‘Sweetheart, he left you no choice. You had to do it. Robert was a threat to us all. To Sophie and poor Suzie. And he was going to take our girls’ home away from them. And he was a threat to the Organisation and the desperate people it tries to help. And Mr Jones has rewarded us well. More than we expected.’
‘Yes, a lot more than we expected. It makes you wonder what else Robert was muddled up in.’
‘Mr Jones said he was involved with child abduction. And prostitution. That’s terrible stuff. We have two girls to protect. People like Robert have to be stopped.’
‘I know. I just can’t believe he knew what he’d got himself into. Zane, do you think we know too much?’
‘Too much what?’
‘Too much for them to let us just sail away into the sunset?’
‘Crumbs, Rosie. We should be in Roscoff before sunset. There’s a strong breeze mid-channel and it’s in our favour.’
Rosemary shook her head and sighed, sat back and allowed the engine to gain confidence, watched the ordered exodus leaving the harbour and tried to imagine those carefree, sunny days working their way down the French coast.
Zane leapt onto the pontoon, untied the rope and threw it onto the deck, then jumped aboard. ‘Get ready to fend off, Laura. Izzy, you’re too near the edge.’ He walked over and took the wheel. ‘Here we go, ladies, we should be there in time for tea.’
Rosie laughed. ‘In time for Vin du Pays, sweetie. Nothing in front of us but a blue sky and the open sea.’
And on that same sunny May morning, Sir Hugh Grenville regarded the thick folder with irritation. ‘Exactly how much of this do I need to read, Jones?’
‘Perhaps the contents page would suffice, Sir Hugh. The rest includes the personal details of the current sponsors, twenty-three sponsorships in all, the financial and security checks, disclaimers, medical data… information regarding surrogates, genetic markers, requested birth dates. Also, two requests to sponsor which are being investigated. The printed copies do seem more daunting than the digital files, but you insisted that we revert to such… due to the lack of ease by which they might be duplicated.’
‘Yes, yes. Quite! And tell me, Jones, the gestations are proceeding according to plan?’
‘Yes, Sir Hugh. All contracts are in order. And the new obstetric team are a vast improvement. If you remember, the most advanced cohort of seven multiple sponsorships are all currently resident in the UK awaiting completion.’
‘Excellent!’ He flipped open the folder. ‘And the Perrin data?’
‘The Source has confirmed the final investigation report, which concludes that the data, if it did indeed exist, is lost.’
‘And there is no possibility of linking the wretched man’s activities to this office?’
‘None whatsoever.’
Sir Hugh Grenville cast the folder aside. ‘And the Perrin wife’s involvement?’
‘Officially, she remains beyond suspicion.’
‘However, people share confidences, become overwhelmed by the need to confess. As ever, Jones, we do not want any more… loose ends.’
‘Quite so. But I do assure you that the wheels are already in motion. Or should I say that the gentle sea breezes are already in motion. An unfortunate nautical incident, Sir Hugh… and the very last of our loose ends dealt with absolutely.’