From Fitzroy's Private Diary (Extract 131)

I’ve always tried to keep my affliction secret, and for the most part I’ve been able to do so. Griffin has proved to be a blessing and a curse. He’s almost always an annoyance, but when I’m afflicted, he’s most useful. That he knows about my affliction at all is a source of great worry for me. Not even Alice knows, at least, not so far.

The headaches began on the first anniversary of my mother’s death. I awoke at school and found that sight was missing from my right eye. Instead, there appeared a crazy mishmash of brightly coloured lights and jagged lines. Being an adventurous child, I wasn’t afraid, but rather intrigued. Boarding school being what it is, I didn’t mention it to my peers, but rather relied on my one good eye to see me through.

However, as the day progressed, my head became sorer and sorer to the point that it really was quite debilitating. I mentioned this to one master, who promptly poo-pooed the idea that ‘a healthy lad could be discomposed by anything as feminine as a headache’. Later, when I vomited on his shoes, he revised his opinion. Thus began my trips to the nurse’s room where I lay in the dark, quite unable to bear sunlight, until the headaches had passed. These lasted anywhere between one and two days. Despite keeping some of my symptoms to myself, like the visual disturbances, the nurse diagnosed my condition as being a migraine.

I worked out for myself the overriding causes; the anniversary of mother’s death, the news that my cat at home had died, the sudden death of a school friend. Great loss, or the memory of loss, caused me stress and brought on these attacks.

Now I’m a fully grown man, the attacks strike me after difficult missions during which I’ve had occasion to terminate an enemy or, more recently, when the mission has taken a serious toll on Alice, especially when I feel I should’ve foreseen events.

I’ve never had an attack during a mission. I put this down to my iron will. They usually come when I’m at home, and before Griffin, when I was alone. While Griffin is of considerable help, it troubles me that he knows of my affliction. Should the service ever discover it, despite being among the very best of them, they’d pull me from the field at once. They’d think that it’s always possible I could be overcome during a mission and that makes me an unacceptable liability.

I’d trust Alice with my secret, but I don’t wish to compromise her. Between Griffin and I, it is understood that should he reveal my weakness, things would not go well for him. Although, being a medical man, he did once mention he thought it unlikely that I’d have an attack while working. He muttered something about only becoming ill when I allowed myself to relax.

Strangely, Jack helps. He sleeps on my bed when my head is at its sorest, and I find the time I take to recover is lessened by his presence. If things were different, I might try to persuade Alice to lie next to me and see if she could shorten my indisposition further. But, alas, that is not an option.