I swore under my breath and turned to the computer. The perfect end to a perfect day. I switched it on and sat down. As I’d expected, it wanted a password. I tried Seagull. No luck. Then Andrew. It’s amazing how many people are stupid enough to use their own names as security passwords. Andy wasn’t one of them. I thought hard. My next try had to be right. Like copy-protected

Then it came to me. I crossed my fingers, said a swift prayer to the gods of the New Age and typed in JONATHAN. “Thank you, Richard Bach,” I said softly as the menu appeared before me.

Once I was into the program, it didn’t take me long to find Moira’s records. I didn’t have time to plow through them all then and there, but realizing I might have to steal some data from the computer, I’d taken the precaution of bringing a couple of blank floppies with me. I quickly made two copies of the file to be on the safe side, pocketed the discs and switched off the computer. So much for the Data Protection Act. I checked my watch and saw that it was nearly ten past eight. Time to get a move on.

At the door, I paused and listened. It seemed quiet, so I carefully released the lock catch and opened the door. I stepped into the hall with a sigh of relief and pulled the door to behind me. The noise of the lock snapping home sounded like a thunderclap. I didn’t wait to see if that’s how it sounded to anyone else. I raced down the hall and out of the front door. I didn’t stop running till I got to the car.

I didn’t like leaving the Seagull Project minus their new volunteer. But at least I’d managed to avoid the collective meeting. Besides, I figured that now she’d flown the nest, Moira might need my help more than them.

I arrived home just as Richard was leaving. When he saw me, his face lit up in my favorite cute smile and he leapt across the low fence that separates our front gardens. He pulled me into his arms in a comforting hug. Until I tried to relax into him, I hadn’t realized how tense I still was after my burglary at Seagull.

“Hey, Brannigan!” he exclaimed. “I’d given you up for dead. Come on, get your glad rags on and we’ll go and paint the town.”

It was a tempting offer. I didn’t keep the full range of software at home that we have in the office, and I knew that I couldn’t read the disc I’d copied at the Seagull Project with what I had on my machine. I certainly couldn’t face going into the office this late.