In the meantime, she kept an eye on the Batang Kali survivors, exchanging the odd letter with Mr Leng to see if there was the need for a second piece. There wasn’t going to be another enquiry at the moment, but Scotland Yard was talking about the possibility of a prosecution. Between her piece and so many of the Scots Guards confessing, it was hard to see how they could do otherwise. She had her opening paragraph planned, something about how justice long delayed must taste the sweetest. Or words to that effect. She’d come up with something better.

The bad news came from her own newspaper, buried in the back pages. She stared for a long time at the small item, a few lines stating that the Scots Guards had no case to answer, their reputation was intact, and therefore the government’s conduct during the Malayan Emergency was once more above reproach. She went upstairs to speak to the court reporter but he didn’t have much to add. There was a new Attorney-General with the new government, and it was perfectly natural that he’d want to start with a clean slate. “It’s for the best. Why give our boys a hard time?” he called after her as she trotted away.

She looked it up in Hansard, and it was as he said. The Attorney-General announced he was taking the advice of the Director of Public Prosecutions, who believed there was insufficient evidence to warrant criminal proceedings.

And there was Marcus Lipton, Labour MP for Brixton. “Does the Attorney-General nevertheless agree that, in view of sworn statements by four ex-guardsmen claiming to be present at the scene, which were published in the People, it was necessary to have the inquiry even though after all these years it is generally accepted that it is impossible to collect sufficient evidence for a prosecution?”

And the reply. “I do not wish to make any comment about the necessity of this inquiry.”

She let the sentence run over and over in her head. That was all there was. He did not wish it, and therefore it would not happen. Of course, that’s how it had always been. She understood this at one level, but at another felt horribly naïve at having allowed herself to believe in the possibility of justice. There had been no further discussion. A token show of resistance, and the chamber moved on to
other business.

“What’s wrong?” said Ian Spender, stopping by her desk. The men, she noted, were treating her better now, as if she’d needed to accomplish all she had merely in order to be taken as an equal.

“Nothing. Some bad news.”

“Not too serious, I hope?” His pallid face was actually mildly concerned, as if he really did care.