While Danny was on the phone, Elena went back to the online search engine. She punched in 'SAS' and was rewarded with a list of sites ranging from Scandinavian Airlines to Surfers Against Sewage.

'Idiot,' said Elena to herself. 'Use your brain, Elena, be specific.' She typed in 'Special Air Services Regiment'. There were pages and pages dedicated to the Regiment. Most were tribute sites run by wannabe warriors or SAS anoraks.

But Elena worked quickly online, swiftly deciding which sites could be discounted and which needed checking out. Eventually she logged onto the SAS Association, an organization for ex-members of the Regiment.

'Nice one,' she said, making a note of the contact phone number. She shut down the computer and hurried out to the garden.

Danny got through to the SAS Association and after a few brief words was put on hold. He paced impatiently up and down a small patch of grass between two flowerbeds and glanced over at Elena. She had taken his place on the garden bench and was staring at an unopened blue airmail letter she held in both hands. The envelope was addressed to her and bore an unusual stamp.

'Aren't you gonna open that?'

Before Elena could answer, the phone line crackled and a woman's voice came on: 'You did say S. Watts, caller?'

Danny sighed. 'No, F. F for Fergus.'

'And you say he left the Regiment about ten years ago?'

'Something like that. I think he'd be about fifty-two or -three now.'

'Just one moment, caller, I'll check again. You do realize that if he is listed I can't give you an address or number?'

'He's my granddad. I just want to know if he's still alive.'

The woman sounded sympathetic. 'Oh, dear, that's a shame. Putting you on hold, then.'

She was back in less than a minute. 'We do have a Watts, but he's much more recent. Wrong generation completely. They don't all join the association when they leave, you know. Some just seem to… disappear.'