Theo had stayed in London to oversee The Zoo Chronicles himself as it had hurriedly gone to press, doing a marvelous job of sourcing good-quality paper and including enough lithographs to keep the sensibility of the menagerie of characters alive. The Zoological Society of London had been delighted with the publication and insisted on giving a reception to mark its launch, and so here they were—the various committees, staff and public—as well as the Partridge team, enjoying twilight refreshments along with the human entertainment and animal encounters. There were a number of high-profile people involved in the Zoological Society council, including the Duke of Devonshire, Colonel Monckton Copeman and J. R. Norman, Esquire, as well as three sirs and two professors, so it was no surprise to see the large contingent of gathered press, or that one of the zoo’s employees was filming the event on a Dekko camera.

The book had only been in the shops for a few weeks, but it had already been well-received by the public and the critics, and with zoo visitors who were able to buy it as a souvenir.

“So, Alice, what are your plans for the sequel?” George asked, with a half smile.

He was joking, of course; she’d already told him there wouldn’t be one for the time being, that Eadie was her priority now, and he’d not tried to convince her to stay at Partridge—or claim custody, as she’d feared he would. Whatever feelings George had about his son, he kept to himself, and Alice knew that at least he and his wife found some comfort in their granddaughter.

Theo nudged her and indicated to where Julian Huxley, the director of the zoo, stood on the top step, gazing out over the terrace as he straightened his jacket and prepared to speak.

Alice scanned the crowd too, and she shivered, as she often did in public places, when she thought she caught sight of Rupert’s tall, dark-haired image. They’d had a memorial service for him, and he had been mourned, but a body had never been found, and the idea clawed at her that one day he might reappear.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to London Zoo, or Regent’s Park Zoo, as some of you know it . . .” The director waited until the crowds had quieted down and he had most everyone’s attention. “It’s not often that we assemble in groups, for good reasons these days, or above ground—”

A murmur of laughter rippled through the crowd.

“—so, it is with absolute pleasure that I stand before you tonight to congratulate the zoo community—and by that, I mean everyone, the workers, the visitors and the animals—on the magnificent achievement of taking us through this wretched war thus far. It’s your stories in here that are a reminder of what we can do when we set our hearts and minds to it.”