“Congratulations Mr. Lockhart,” said the nurse as she came out. “You’re the father of a baby girl.”

It was absurd, but the first thing he could think of was how much the nurse reminded him of one of Richard’s uglier exgirlfriends.

“Can I see her?”

“Not yet. We’re just getting her cleaned up. We’re not used to having the father around. They’re normally having a drink, you know.”

“Ah. I see. Sorry about that. It’s just that I have a very modern wife….”

“You don’t have to apologize to me! Why not go to her room, and we’ll bring them both over soon?”

He did as he was told. It was only when he sat down that the hugeness of the moment finally struck him.

“I don’t believe it,” he said out loud. “I’m a father. I’m actually a father!”

He stood up and looked in the mirror. Wagging a finger at himself, he addressed his reflection.

“Now listen here, young man, you’ve got to grow up now, take responsibility, that sort of thing….”

And then he stopped, thinking himself silly. Instead, he paced around the room, smacking his palm with his fist, letting out the occasional whoop of delight. He hadn’t expected to be so happy. Terrified, certainly, but not happy. It was a deep happiness, a totally wholesome joy, a sense of achievement that made everything else he had done feel so trivial, so childish.

“Are you quite all right?”

It was the nurse again, giving him a teasing smile.

“Er, yes, absolutely fine, thanks.”

“Because there are a couple of people coming down the corridor to see you.”

Lockhart bolted out of the room to see Anna being wheeled in a bed, a small bundle in her arms. She looked exhausted, but, like him, Lockhart thought she looked deeply, fundamentally happy.

Neither of them knew what to say; instead Anna merely tugged down some of the swaddling to reveal their daughter’s face.

“Say hello to your father, Amy Virginia Rose,” said Anna.

“Hello, Amy Virginia Rose,” said Lockhart, bending down to kiss the crown of the dark head above the screwed-up little face. “How are you today?”

“She says it’s been a fairly eventful one, John Alexander Lockhart.”

“Has it indeed, Anna Virginia Lockhart?”

“And her mother says she is so proud of her little family.”

The words brought a tear to his eye.

“Little family,” he repeated. “I’ve got a little family.”

He leaned over and kissed Anna, promising, like all fathers, that whatever happened, these were the only people who mattered; that there would be no price too high to ensure their safety.

If the next six weeks were hellish for Lockhart, they were doubly so for the men. The new training program Strasser had devised was as tough as anything Lockhart had been put through at Arisaig. The men found the going deeply unpleasant.