When I got home I was met by a social worker and a doctor. They examined Jemima and decided that she was in good health apart from the head injury, which was healing as was the use in her legs.

I suggested they speak to Dr Rose, and the doctor did. He came back suggesting that Dr Rose was in favour of me retaining custody of the child although I had to consent to unscheduled visits by a social worker or health visitor. I also had to apply to be checked by the Criminal Records Office, which would cost me so much and take a month. I suggested that Jemima should remain with me unless they discovered evidence that I was an unfit person to foster a child.

Again the doctor called Dr Rose, who said he would vouch for me. I was quite touched by this show of faith by someone I’d only met once. When I learned he had argued that Jemima was already quite traumatised and thus to remove her from someone who she regarded as her maternal figure, would cause unnecessary suffering on the part of the child. A child–he pointed out, who had suffered significantly already. She had bonded with me very quickly, much to my surprise.

So it was a pragmatic decision by the childcare authorities. I wasn’t a known child murderer or felon, at least locally, so they let Mima stay, for the moment. In fact the older policemen who had been with Miss Grumpy Drawers detective, called to ask me some questions the next day.

I had Jemima sat on a child’s bike, Tom had procured and was trying to improvise some form of static exerciser. “Ah, a mediaeval torture implement,” he said trying to keep a straight face.

“Only on the Tour de France,” I replied.

“Are you a cyclist?” he asked.

“When I have time, there isn’t much available at the moment, not since this scruffy urchin entered my life. Why do you ask?”

“I wondered if you knew my niece, Anne Sommers?”

“The nurse and triathlon specialist, yes, I’ve ridden with Anne a few times.”

He smiled at me, then said, “You have a bit of form, don’t you?”

“If I do it’s news to me?” I said aghast.

“Yes, rescuing a baby from a burning car; catching a bag snatcher; rescuing a woman trafficked by a sex ring; seeing off a would be kidnapper at the university; fighting off an attack by Russian Mafiosi at this house. Shall I continue?”

“I think that’s about it?”

“We spoke to some of your undergraduates, you helped save your fiance’s life when he was shot by poachers, you represented a student who was seriously ill with AIDS, you save this child’s life–in short, shouldn’t we be looking in the book of saints than the CRO?”

“No, I maybe more sinned against than sinner, but I’m no saint nor angel. I only did what anyone would have done in similar circumstances.”

“Like pulling a kid out of a burning upside down car?”

“I had to be pulled out of that myself,” I blushed as I remembered the incident.

“With the child though,” he smiled.

“Dunno, I was a bit overcome with fumes.”

“I have the report from the child’s parents.”

“Can’t remember, anyway what’s that got to do with here and now?”

“Did you know your father in law is a very good friend of the Chief Constable, and head of the county police authority not to mention most of the great and good all the way up to the Lord Chancellor?”

“No it doesn’t surprise me, Henry is a very sociable fellow.”

“Sociable, his address book is like Who’s Who.”

“So, mine isn’t, I can show you if you don’t believe me.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary, Lady Catherine.”

“It’s just plain Cathy Watts, at the moment.”

He looked at me with a kindly expression, “I don’t think plain is an adjective I’d ever use to describe you, my dear.” I said nothing but felt very warm.

“Come on, pet, let’s give you a little drink and a rest. Would you care for a coffee or tea?” I asked the copper, carrying Jemima into the kitchen I placed her in her high chair and passed her the cup.

“Fank you, Mummy,” she said and drank it very quickly, giving a tremendous burp at the end. I tried not to smile as it only encouraged her, however the copper chuckled and she then laughed.

“Only rude little girls make such vulgar noises,” I said trying to show disapproval. She laughed even more.

I made a tray of tea and the copper carried it into the dining room, where I put Jemima on a sofa to snooze. We sat at the table and talked.

“What was that you said about her being directed into the road?” I asked.

“Oh that, the bloke who ran her over said her mother pointed at the other side of the road and the child ran out even though he was very close and felt the mother must have seen him.”

“But she might have just pointed out a nice tree or a dog or something and Jemima ran out before she could stop her.”

“The driver said she made no attempt to stop her.”

“She might have been paralysed with fear or something?”

“Nice try, just plain Cathy Watts, you sure you don’t have wings and a harp?”

“What?”

“Well you seem to see the best in people.”

“I grew up with hypercritical parents.”

“I heard your father abused you.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“And he wasn’t too pleased about having a daughter instead of a son.”

“Where did you get that from?”

“There is quite a lot about you out there if you know how to collect it.”

“Obviously. My father beat me a few times, that was all.”

“I heard he half killed you.”

“Once he beat me quite hard, yes.”

“Couldn’t cope with your change of lifestyle, eh?”

“I suppose it was something like that, although we were reconciled before he died.”

“After his stroke?”

“Bloody hell, where did you get all this?”

“Don’t worry, none of this will be made official unless Detective Pratt finds it out and most of the time she couldn’t switch on a computer, let alone find anything on the internet–including the clip with the dormouse, very funny, that.”

I should have known it was coming, but I blushed and laughed at the mention of my moment of immortality.

“So what don’t you know about me?”

“Why the interest in dormice and why aren’t you a supermodel or film star?”

“I’ve always loved nature, I feel happier out walking in the woods or countryside than I do teaching in a university. Supermodel or actress, me? Don’t be daft, besides Caroline Cossey achieved it and what good did it do her?”

“Who is Caroline Cossey?” he asked.

“Someone a bit like me who became a Bond girl, only she is beautiful apart from a rather deep voice.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, I have to go and catch criminals. We have nothing much more on the missing parents, if we do, I’ll try and let you know.” As he left he handed me his business card, PC Andrew Bond, ?I smiled when I read it.