Chapter Five: Uncle FraserA pitiless jumble of snow and rain carried on a brutish, swirling wind greeted me as I walked the short distance from the warmth of my official car to Fraser Ughert's open door of his palatial home in the wilds of Chearsley, in Buckinghamshire, about twenty miles from Oxford. It was past midnight that Friday when I arrived.
“Why did you make such a fuss by turning this visit into an official one, Patrick, you know you're more than welcome at any time? I was expecting the next telephone call to be from the PM asking if I was up to seeing the new head of Group. Hardballs was punching particularly low. Said he wasn't surprised that you wanted to see me, but was surprised that I had agreed.”
“I know I'm welcome and so does everyone connected to the Service including
