Mark clapped his hands in delight, and Damien broke into smiles. The others responded by giving a round of applause, both to the boys and to the cake, which certainly deserved such attention.

'It's fantastic!' Mark exclaimed, and he was right.

'Happy birthday, darlings,' said Ann, putting her arms around both boys and hugging and kissing them.

Mark, unable to contain himself any longer, finally broke free from Ann's embrace and rushed across the room toward the cake, which the men had just set down on the refectory table. Damien was not far behind.

Just then, Buher came into the room, late for the ceremony. He had had a bad migraine earlier and had gone into another room to lie down for a while. He looked a bit rumpled in his 'casual' clothes, which had actually taken him a good part of the day to assemble. Ann was the first to notice him. She smiled sympathetically. ‘Feeling any better, Paul?' she asked.

'Much, thank you,' said Buher. The expression of pain on his face indicated he might not be telling the absolute truth.

'Migraines can be hell,' said Ann. 'I had a friend once who suffered with them. She said she felt as if there were little men in her head with very sharp knives, sawing away through her nerves.’

Buher smiled a smile that would have won him a medal for understated bravery in the good old days when the British still had soldiers in India and no one had to worry about how to feed the starving natives. ‘The last few days have been something of a strain,' he acknowledged. He looked across at Atherton who was standing next to the boys and their cake, beaming like the proud uncle he practically was. Mark was happily examining the little figures on the cake, while Damien stuck his finger into the icing and scooped out a large dab of it. Richard stood beside them, a proud and loving father. It was a moving tableau, one in which Buher would have liked very much to play a part.

Mark, naturally ebullient, wanted as many people as possible to share the wonderful sight; he looked up from the cake and called out, ‘Mom! Mr Buher! Come and look!'

Ann smiled and went across the room to Mark, while Buher sauntered over in the direction of Damien, who was standing off to one side.

Damien noticed Buher's approach; he smiled and nodded politely, but he hoped Buher was on his way somewhere else. He didn't feel like talking to grown-ups when there was birthday cake to devour.

'How are they treating you at the Academy, Damien?' Buher asked.

Damien shrugged. 'Okay, Mr Buher.' He tried to indicate by his tone that this was not a topic of particular interest to him, hoping to end the conversation then and there.

'And Sergeant Neff,' Buher asked. 'How is he?’