'Hello, General. I notice you frequent the same areas. ' Sean grinned
at him.
'Bloody awful champagne. Old K. must be economizing.'
Then he ran his eyes over Sean's immaculate evening dress. 'A bit
difficult to tell whether you have received the awards for which I
recommended you. ' Sean shook his head. 'Still a sergeant. I didn't
want to embarrass the General Staff by appearing in my chevrons. '
'AH!' Acheson's eyes narrowed slightly. 'Must be some hold up. I'll
look into it.'
'I assure you I'm quite happy this way.'
Acheson nodded and changed the subject. 'You haven't met my wife?'
This was patronage on the grand scale. Sean was not to know that
Acheson considered him his personal good luck charm. His own rapid
promotion dated from their first meeting.
Sean blinked in surprise before answering.
'I haven't yet had the honour Come along then.'
Sean excused himself from Candy, who dismissed him with a tap of her
fan and Acheson steered him through the press towards a group at the
end of the room. A dozen paces from it Sean stopped abruptly.
' Something wrong? ' Acheson asked.
'No. Nothing. ' Sean started forward again, but now his eyes were
fastened with fascination on one of the men who was a part of the group
towards which they were headed.
A slim figure in the dark blue dress uniform of the Natal Mounted
Rifles. Sandy brown hair brushed straight back from his high forehead,
nose too big for the mouth and the chin beneath it, slightly
round-shouldered but with the highest reward for bravery showing purple
and bronze beside the striped ribbon of the Distinguished Service Order
on his chest, while on his shoulders the silver crowns and lace
proclaimed him a colonel.
Slowly, with a new awakening of his guilt, Sean let his eyes move down
to this man's legs. With incomprehension he saw them perfectly
matched, booted in polished black leather. Only when the man moved
slightly, shifting his weight, Sean saw the leaden ness in one of them
and understood.
'My dear-I would like to present Mr. Courtney. I think you have heard
me speak of him. He was with me at Colenso, and on the train a few
weeks ago.
'Indeed. Mr. Courtney, this is a great pleasure.' She was plump and
friendly but Sean was hardly able to murmur the correct response so
conscious was he of the other eyes upon his face.
'And this is Major Peterson of my staff.'
Sean nodded.
'Colonel Courtney you will probably know-seeing that you bear the same
name, and not to mention the fact that he is your Commanding
Officer.'
For the first time in nineteen years Sean looked into the face of the
man he had crippled.
'Hello, Garry,' he said and held out his hand. He stood with it out
and waited.
