From Fitzroy's Private Diary (Extract 135)

I sometimes ask myself what the point in getting out of bed in the morning is. I may be committed to serving Crown and Country, and all that entails, but I know that this is an employment that goes well beyond my lifetime. It’s endless work. Others will pick up the baton after me. There are times, especially in 1939, when one wonders if there has been any point to anything that one has done.

Espionage is a King Canute sort of a game. You are constantly telling the tide to turn back - or so it seems. When you spend the majority of your life dealing with enemy agents who regard you as the Devil’s own spawn, and you come see them in similar terms, it becomes all too easy to fall into a twilight world of paranoia and corruption. I have seen it happen to colleagues. It becomes impossible to believe that anyone, civilians included, is not acting on behalf of some nefarious plot, or attempting to betray you.

Let’s also bear in mind that people who are drawn to the world of espionage, and who thrive in it, are natural liars, deceivers, and often self-motivated. We all know this, and we all distrust each other to some extent.

In my world, even spies doubt the reliability of other spies. Don’t get me started on the mass corruption and desertion of duty that happened in Ireland between the wars. I managed to avoid all that, mainly because I refused to go (I have nothing against Ireland, or the Irish, but Alice was having a difficult pregnancy, and I wanted to be near her, so I made up reasons to be elsewhere).

Viewed from a distance, it’s not an appealing life. I therefore have a few reasons I keep in mind when I come to find myself wondering why I should get out of bed…

1.     There are always ladies to be wooed

2.     There may be marmalade for breakfast

3.     The weather looks good, and I am ever so fond of a stroll outdoors

4.     I am very good looking and often draw admiring glances (see point 1)

5.     I can choose to have an excellent dinner, accompanied by an excellent wine

6.     If I want excellent dinners and wines, I need to train and exercise my body, or I will become too portly to woo the fairer sex (see points 1, 3, 4, and 5)

When I acquired Jack, I got further motivation to remove myself from bed. There is little that cheers one out of a depressed state of mind first thing in the morning than being greeted by a dog who is delighted to see you. In fact, the observation of a happy dog is one of my main motivators.

Of course, on a day when I am seeing Alice, I need no further motivation to rise.