From Fitzroy's Private Diary (Extract 116)

I awoke with nothing particular on my mind. A mission had been dealt with the night before and my day lay blissfully open before me. Old Morley will want a debrief, but he can wait. Nothing quite like keeping those desk-bound chappies on their toes.

I lay and luxuriated in bed. Something I am not wont to do on my own. I wallowed for long enough that Griffin, who never brings me tea in bed, brought me tea in bed. I believe it was an excuse to see if I had died in the night. Certainly, he adopted a most disappointed air when I sat upright and relieved him of the beverage.

I had a long bath. Jack popped in to see me and stuck his nose in the bubbles and sneezed. It was a relaxing kind of morning. I allowed Griffin to attempt to make me an omelette for luncheon. The result was so foul I didn’t even want to offer it to Jack. I resolved to take the dog for a walk and visit any chop house that would be happy to serve us both.

Finally, a satisfactory meal being accomplished, and Jack being spoilt terribly by the chef, we left to walk off our repast. The park beckoned. The sun was out, and the ladies were promenading. What more could a man want? Sun, ladies, and a full belly. Sadly, it seems a dog does want more.

I am grateful he didn’t actually catch the swan - although he gave it a game go with his odd, jumping gait. When Jack gets up a good turn of speed, his back legs always seem to try and overtake his front. It was quite amusing, or would have been if he hadn’t been after a swan. If he had caught it I would have had a lot of explaining to do.

Unfortunately, for the squirrel, Jack was indeed fast enough. I did manage to stop him eating it, but I still had to escort a bloody-mouthed dog all the way home. Needless to say, we were given a wide berth by other pedestrians. One young woman in a dull olive dress pressed her handkerchief to her mouth and looked as if she was about to faint. As I was the only gentleman present, I gave her a firm shake of the head, indicating this would be excessive, and she straightened her backbone and carried on. I imagine it was quite the most exciting event that will happen to her for some time. Her teeth protruded in such a manner that only an expert kisser would be able to make certain he didn’t get his tongue bitten in any amorous encounter (and as I didn’t take to her, I therefore did not offer my services).

At last, we arrived back home, and I handed Jack over for a bath. Griffin was all lamentations and sighing. Honestly, you’d think he’d have learnt not to get himself bitten by now. Jack is a most pleasant animal, and I am sure Griffin had far fouler patients in the past.

I went for a medicinal brandy and attempted to block the cries of distress issuing from my valet.

Jack and I had a little snooze in the afternoon. After that, I sent a telegram to one of my female friends and asked if she would like me to give her dinner. As her husband is away on business, she answered promptly in the affirmative. I said goodnight to Jack, as I didn’t anticipate being home before breakfast, and set off with a spring in my step (and a certain anticipation in other regions of my anatomy).

All following matters were concluded satisfactorily, and I returned home shortly before luncheon the next day. Overall, a not unpleasant twenty-four hours but, on the whole, I think I prefer to have only the briefest of flirtations with civilian life. Being on a mission is so much less fraught than conforming to the rigorous etiquettes of normal life.

Also, Jack briefly escaped while I was away and came back with yet another a squirrel corpse. Griffin is wearing another bandage, and I can only hope he doesn’t add Jack’s prey to my dinner tonight. I shall open a good strong bottle of claret to drown out the taste of his cooking. I will wake up tomorrow morning when, I suppose, I shall finally have to go and put Morley out of his misery.