From Fitzroy's Private Diary (Extract 54)

I am aware I have always made my role not only look easy, but elegant and effortless. In truth, it’s often a lot more sordid than those back in the office are comfortable knowing about. More than one of my field reports has been filed under terms such as ‘Highly Classified’, or ‘Top Secret’, and buried away in an underground storeroom in a secure facility.

I’ve been drinking and remembering. Remembering can make you drink more. Alice understands. She discourages or distracts me from reaching for the brandy bottles when she thinks I’m in too much of a reminiscent mood. There are times, however, when I’ve returned from the field after witnessing something awful (and some of the things I’ve seen have been truly terrible), events that no ordinary man or woman should be able to imagine.

When missions like that happen, Alice, if she’s there, has always given me a glass of brandy, and sat with me until the sun rises. She doesn’t say a word because she knows there are no words that can help.

Instead she stays by my side and lets me weep.