Chapter 30

McCock was enjoying a post prandial relaxation time in the office attached to the sleeping quarters of the Admiral's Quarters with his Aide, Evan Evans and discussing the visits to the orbital warehouses and the dirtside warehouses and factories associated with GmBH on the morrow.

The ladies had arrived and Sally had departed after dinner to see to their meal and to get them quartered; their plan for the morrow was to inspect several properties on the outskirts of Gorgiepest for their residence.

Without knocking, Erin entered accompanied by a very modishly clothed, tall lady whose long yellow hair was restrained to a pony? horse? tail almost reaching to her waist. Erin performed the introductions of the now standing men,

"Cerise, this is Hezbadiah "Aggy" McCock, soon to be Baron Montrose, and this is his aide, Evan Evans, third son of Curragh. Gentlemen, Cerise, Dowager Marchioness of Claigh Valley."

The men's eyebrows were raised quizzically as neither had heard of the demise of the Marquis. Cerise shook their hand and stepped back to offer the explanation,

"He was as drunk as a Lord, and slipped coming down the steps from a male brothel. Broke his neck; died instantly. Please, no condolences; you never met the man and I'm not sorry. The only good thing that came out of my so-called marriage was this one," nodding at Erin, "and Dorian; and on that note, Aggy, its about time you met your sons in person. They came down with us and are waiting in your conference room." Cerise waved him to the door and followed him to the conference room with Erin and a very puzzled Evans bringing up the rear.

McCock entered the conference room to be met by the neutral gazes of five red headed boys ranged down the long side of the table; behind him to his left, Slow, 'Mina, Shelly and Trudie; to his left, Nan and Sally sat primly at a coffee table; standing just behind the left end of the table was a bookish looking man clutching a ledger; while to the right of the table sat two Ghorkhali women and to his right stood Gus Kowalski and Sabajhi Indira jr.

"I am never so much as reminded of the tableau in a famous oil depicting a scene from the Enkland civil war some half millennium pre diaspora, where some bureaucrats are interrogating a boy who stands before them; asking him "and when did you last see your father?". This tableau, if it were ever recorded would be named, "and when did you first meet your sons?" I would be grateful for introductions and please name your mothers."

The oldest boy rose from the end of the table nearest the ladies, bowed to them, and advanced to McCock with hand outstretched. As they shook hands,

"I am James Donald Nancarrow, your oldest, son of Erin.

Your next son is Dorian Graham, Marquis of Claigh Valley, son of Rein Cockson, adopted son of Cerise, whom, I see you've met." Dorian stood and shook hands across the table.

"Your third son is Peter Colin McGraw, son of Sally." They shook hands in turn.

Your fourth son is this scamp and general troublemaker, Walter Edward, Duke of Western Hove, son of Rein Cockson." The boy stood and reached across the table to shake his father's hand,

"Don't believe him Sir; he picks on me because I'm smaller than him ... now"

"And this little tearaway, your youngest is Matthew Samuel Nancarrow, son of Nan."

Matthew had to come around the end of the table to shake his father's hand smiling mischievously,

"So far!"

McCock looked at him, as he released his hand and turned to stare at Nan's 'po' face. He turned back to catch a glimpse of a large bladed weapon sheathed at Matthew's back. His look at the women when he turned back the second time was tight and frowning. Trudie sighed heavily,

"Don't go there; at least not yet."

Sabajhi came over to McCock, grasped his hand and informed him,

"This has gone off well, my mothers were worried what you would do, but they still had a snack for us in the War Room." And led him away. Gus corrected him,

"Ward Room with a dee."

Sabajhi just smiled at McCock,

"Doesn't matter, I'm taking him there."

McCock found James walking with him,

"When did you find out I am your father?"

"There was never a time when I did not know" James replied " I was always told who you were but I was told not to mention it to Nana Nan; but she knew very early. Well before Matthew was born. I think you were, how can I say this, I think you were selected by Nana Nan."

"And Matthew's comment "so far"? You won't be surprised if I hold dark suspicions about your antecedent's scheming?"

"Sir, as Mother Sally says you used to say "Above my pay scale" and as for scheming, it's inbred in us all, Sir, inbred. Now, can I get you Coffee or something stronger?"

McCock gave him a decidedly jaundiced look, and James laughed

"All part of the Nancarrow training, Sir. But if my mothers found that Dorian and I had had more than a small glass of Port after our dinner or the boys any, I don't think we would survive — it would be exile at least."

Polack and Denny arrived then and made a great show of examining him,

"Nothing obviously missing, I see" nodded Denny.

Polack picked up his son and hugged him to the boy's obvious delight; Polack held him off and looked directly at him

"Your mother hasn't got that thing off you." He turned to McCock