Mr. Weldon should never have mentioned that the land was in dispute. Without that knowledge she could have negotiated a length of stay that would have suited neither party. It would have been too short for the travelers and too long for the villagers. All land in England and Wales was owned by someone, but a failure to register left it open to opportunists.

For whatever reason, Mr. Weldon had volunteered information that suggested solicitors would become involved-"No, I'm sorry, sir, you were a fool to take advice from the squatters. This is a gray area of law…"-and there was little she could do until agreement was reached on who owned the land. Of course it was unjust. Of course it went against every norm of legal fairness. Of course she was on the side of the taxpayers.

But…

SHENSTEAD MANOR, SHENSTEAD, DORSET

1 October 2001

Dear Captain Smith,

My solicitor informs me that if I attempt to contact you, you will sue. For that reason I should make it clear that I am writing without Mark Ankerton's knowledge and that the entire responsibility for this letter is mine. Please be assured, too, that any suit you bring will not be contested and I will pay any compensation that a court sees fit to award.

In these circumstances, I am sure you are wondering why I am writing so potentially costly a letter. Call it a gamble, Captain Smith. I am wagering the cost of damages against a one in ten-perhaps even a one in a hundred-chance that you will respond.

Mark has described you as an intelligent, well-balanced, successful, and brave young woman, who feels an absolute loyalty to her parents and has no desire to learn anything about people who are strangers to her. He tells me your family has a long history, and that your ambition is to take over your father's farm when you leave the army. In addition, he says you are a credit to Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and suggests that your adoption was the best thing that could have happened to you.

Please believe there is nothing he could have said that would have given me greater pleasure. My wife and I always hoped that your future was in the hands of good people. Mark has repeated several times that you have no curiosity about your relations, to the extent that you do not wish even to know their names. Should your determination remain as strong, then throw this letter away now and do not read on.

I have always been fond of fables. When my children were small I used to read Aesop to them. They were particularly fond of stories about the Fox and the Lion, for reasons that will become obvious. I am reluctant to put too much information into this letter, for fear of giving you the impression that I care little for your strongly held feelings. To that end, I enclose a variation on an Aesop fable and two newspaper clippings. From what Mark tells me, you will certainly be able to read between the lines of all three and draw some accurate conclusions.

Suffice it to say that my wife and I failed dismally to achieve the same high standard of parenting with our two children as the Smiths achieved with you. It would be easy to lay the blame for this at the door of the army-the absence of a father figure whenever I was away on duty, foreign postings when neither parent was at home, the influences they fell under at boarding school, the lack of supervision during holidays at home-but that would be wrong, I think.

The fault lay with us. We overindulged them to compensate for our absences and interpreted their wild behavior as attention-seeking. We also took the view-shamefully, I fear-that the family name was worth something and rarely, if ever, did we ask them to face up to their mistakes. The greatest loss was you, Nancy. For the worst of reasons-snobbery-we helped our daughter find a "good husband" by keeping her pregnancy secret, and in the process gave away our only grandchild. If I were a religious man, I would say it was a punishment for setting so much store by family honor. We abandoned you rashly to protect our reputation without any understanding of your fine qualities or what the future might hold.

The irony of all this hit me very strongly when Mark told me how unimpressed you were by your Lockyer-Fox connection. In the end, a name is only a name and a family's worth resides in the sum of its parts not in the label they have chosen to attach to themselves. Had I come to this view earlier, I doubt I would be writing this letter. My children would have grown up to be stable members of society, and you would have been welcomed for who you were, not banished for what you were.

I will finish by saying that this is the only letter I shall write. If you don't reply or if you instruct a solicitor to sue, I shall accept that the gamble is lost. I have purposefully not explained my real reason for wanting to meet you, although you may suspect that your status as my only grandchild has something to do with it.

I believe Mark told you that you would be doing a great kindness by agreeing to see me. May I add that you would also be offering the hope of redress to someone who is dead.

Yours sincerely,

James Lockyer-Fox

The Lion, the Elderly Fox,

And the Generous Ass

The Lion, the Fox, and the Ass lived together in intimate friendship for several years until the Lion grew scornful of the Fox's age and derided the Ass for her generosity to strangers. He demanded the respect due his superior might, and insisted her generosity be shown only to him. The Ass, in great trepidation, assembled all her wealth into one large heap and offered it to the Fox for safekeeping until the Lion mended his ways. The Lion burst into a great rage and devoured the Ass. Then he requested the Fox do him the favor of making the division of the Ass's wealth. The elderly Fox, aware that he was no match for the Lion, pointed to the pile and invited the Lion to take it. The Lion, assuming the Fox had learned sense from the death of the Ass, said, "Who has taught you, my very excellent fellow, the art of division? You are perfect to a fraction." The Fox replied, "I learned the value of generosity from my friend, the Ass." Then he raised his voice and called upon the animals of the jungle to put the Lion to flight and share the Ass's fortune among themselves. "In this way," he told the Lion, "you will have nothing and the Ass will be avenged."

But the Lion devoured the Fox and took the Fox's fortune instead.

Lockyer-Fox-Ailsa Flora, unexpectedly at home on 6 March 2001, aged 78. Dearly loved wife of James, mother of Leo and Elizabeth, and generous friend to many. Funeral service at St. Peter's, Dorchester on Thursday 15 March at 12:30. No flowers please, but donations if desired to Dr. Barnardo's or the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

CORONER'S VERDICT

A coroner's inquest ruled yesterday that Ailsa Lockyer-Fox, 78, of Shenstead Manor died of natural causes despite an inconclusive postmortem and pathologist's report which failed to identify a reason for death. A police investigation was launched after bloodstains were found near the body and neighbors alleged an angry argument on the night of her death.

Mrs. Lockyer-Fox was discovered on the terrace of Shenstead Manor on the morning of 6 March by her husband. She was wearing nightclothes and had been dead for some time. Colonel Lockyer-Fox, who gave evidence at the inquest, said he believed she must have risen during the night to feed the foxes that were regular visitors to Shenstead Manor. "I can only assume she lost consciousness and died of cold." He denied that the French windows were locked on the inside when he came downstairs, or that Mrs. Lockyer-Fox was unable to regain entry to the house had she wished.