The Past
Barrington Trenchard"s doorbell rang a few minutes past midnight. He was just about to finish up in his study and head off to bed.
“Well, what have you got?” Dicky asked without preamble, or any of the normal niceties as the door was opened. He was not in a polite mood, nevertheless, this tiny detail escaped Barrington.
“One would have thought that us sexagenarians would need more sleep than we actually get, Dicky. I"m relieved to know I"m not the only one over sixty still awake. Good of you to enquire about my wellbeing, by the way.”
“I don"t give a rat"s arse about how you are feeling. Did you send a report over to me or not?” Without an invitation both he and Peter entered.
“Do come in,” Barrington said caustically as he stepped aside. “I gave it to that babysitter of your
