10. TYNSHAMThere was little likelihood of anyone missing the Manor. Beyond the few cottages which constituted the village of Tynsham the high wall of an estate ran beside the road. We followed it until we came to massive wrought-iron gates. Behind them stood a young woman on whose face the sober seriousness of responsibility had suppressed all human expression. She was equipped with a shotgun which she clasped in inappropriate places. I signalled to Coker to stop, and called to her as I drew up. Her mouth moved, but not a word penetrated the clatter of the engine. I switched off.
‘This is Tynsham Manor?’ I asked.
She was not giving that or anything else away.
‘Where are you from? And how many of you?’ she countered.
I could have wished that she did not fiddle about with her gun in just
