Katie O'Brien was not feeling terribly well.  Angie had been particularly difficult these last few weeks.  The persistent  Steve had been taking up ever more of her time and she herself had found the attentions of the John, the widower Earl increasingly difficult to fend off.  It seemed that the Hampstead idyll with Angela was about to come to an end, as both girls prepared for the seeming inevitability of becoming respectable married women.

She was not in a good mood when her phone rang and Gwendoline's voice sounded on the other end of the line, but  quickly pricked up her ears at what the young Countess had to say and arranged for Gwen to meet her in her office later that morning.

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Angela was also in low spirits.  She too could feel the end of her love affair with Katie was only a matter of time now and was full of nostalgia and regret as well as growing eagerness for a life with Steve.  She was pleased when Katie telephoned and a little disappointed to learn it was a business, not a social call.  When she learned the nature of the business, she told Katie not to pass the story on to her colleagues at the paper and promised that Arthur, the Marxist troublemaker,  would be heavily leant on and warned not to breathe a word to a living soul of his sighting of Harriet.  She was pretty sure that the rebels knew perfectly well that Harriet was a class enemy as well as white, despite which they had seemingly not killed her.  But  it was as well to take no risks.

After saying goodbye to Katie, she contacted the British High Commision in Zambekia and alerted them to the possibility that a British subject was in rebel captivity.  Fat lot of help they'll be, was her thought  - Harriet might still be alive, but she might just as well be dead.  The poor girl would rot in  that hell for years, if not for ever, as far as  orthodox means of securing her release were concerned.  The government were totally bogged down in their fight to eradicate the rebellion - never in a million years were they ever likely to rescue her - and these rebels refused to deal or negotiate with any one, even if H.M. G.  were in the business of paying ransoms - which they very definitely weren't.

And then a name occured to her of one person who had been useful in the past and might be able to help in this matter.  She picked up the scrambler phone.
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Gwendoline returned home after her visit to Katie more convinced than ever that diplomatic efforts to get Harriet freed were worse than useless.  The only positive outcome of the trip up to Town had been a visit with Katie to the Gym and a chance to assess their respective worths in a fight to the finish,  which she had won after thirty five gruelling minutes at the end of which Katie had been knocked out and had had to take the rest of the day off.  An appointment with Angie had been booked for a similar encounter later on.

Harriet would be delighted to learn that one of her two school heroines had so decisively beaten one of that legendary pair,  Katie and Angela.  Gwendoline decided she  would have to leave Angie until she came back home with Harry.   Harry could have a ringside seat for that second massacre!

It was after this meeting that she phoned Jessica.

Jessica was sleeping.  After two years of motherhood, she was beginning to appreciate the relief, now that Andy had insisted on employing a full time nanny to look after their increasingly boisterous son.  She was rudely propelled into wakefulness by the peremptory sound of the telephone.

"Hi.  Jessie here."

"Got all your jabs, Jessie?"

"Gwen?  What the fucking bloody hell are you on about?  I don't hear from you in months and now you phone me with riddles!"

"Cholera, Typhoid, Yellow Fever.  If you haven't got them, then go and get fixed up NOW!"

"You really don't get any better, do you Gwen my love!  All this money, rank and power has finally driven you over the edge.  I'd have handled it all a lot better, given half the chance!"

"Cut out the fucking smart-arsed crap, my love!  We have work to do.  Go and get those jabs.  I'll get back to you in a couple of days."

"You wouldn't even think of filling me in on what this all about of course - I mean who am I anyway? Only your oldest friend!"

"I've just heard Harry is still alive!  We're going out to find her and bring her home!  Isn't it exciting?"

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Jessica put down the phone, after telling Gwen she would get back to her and went to find Andy.

"You'll never gues what that crazy girl has just suggested.  She wants us to out to Africa to look for Harry!  Says she's heard she didn't die    in that awful massacre after all but it a prisoner.  What the hell does she think the two of us could do!  Quite mad, that girl!"

Andy looked at Jessica and shook his head.

"I think you have no option but to go, my darling.  Gwendoline may be a lot of things, but she definitely isn't mad and she even more certainly isn't stupid.  If she thinks she has a better chance on her own she's probably right.  And you three swore an oath once to come to the help of any one of you who was in any kind of trouble.  Sorry darling, but you're going with Gwen and that's an order!"
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After phoning Jessica, Gwen called Lord Wadeford, Harriet's father.  The old Marquess had already been told via Angela that his daughter might well not have perished.  The poor old fellow had for the past ten months been reproaching himself for having been such a poor father, giving his daughter all she wanted in terms of money and possessions, but never really showing her his love for her, even though that love had always been very real.

She told him she was going to fly out to see what she could do, and he wished her God-speed regretting that his own poor health meant he could not be going as well.  After promising to keep him informed, she put down the phone and made another call, but could get no answer.