Back on track slightly, I met Ewan MacColl once back in the early seventies. My father had taken me to a folk club somewhere on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh and had been rather surprised to discover that he'd known Ewan at Bletchley - although he wasn't calling himself Ewan Macoll back then. Indeed, it was my father who'd initially nursed him back to health after he'd had the slight breakdown. That sort of thing wasn't uncommon, apparently, due to the obvious pressue and my father dealt with a number of cases. When we bumped into Ewan outside the club he looked at my father as though he'd seen a ghost, but after the initial shock I remember them shaking hands and having a quiet pint together whilst the band played on. I don't remember ever seeing him again and my father seldom talked of those days until his final few months.