AUTHOR’S NOTE

The behaviour of politicians is often enough irrational, but the performance of the Minister of Fine Arts in this tale is so eccentric that I hope it cannot be taken even as a caricature of any real politician, living or dead. To avoid any suggestion of party-political bias I have given Britain a Coalition Government. If by some twist of the political roulette wheel Britain should actually have a Coalition Government while this book is in print, please, it is not my fault.

Geographically, Winter Marsh belongs to the Foulness complex, but my Winter Marsh is a wholly imaginary extension of Foulness Island to the north-west, cut off from the real Foulness by an imaginary arm of the River Roach. The oysters of the area, thank goodness, are real, but it should be obvious that the peculiar operations concerning oysters in my story could not possibly relate to any real oyster fishery.