What had been best about the media exposure was how he and Kate were now seen as champions of the case for reforming procedures when children were abducted. All the concern about their leaving the children on their own, exposed to all manner of risks including being abducted, had been quietly forgotten. What really mattered now was not the obvious reason why young children might be vulnerable to abduction – namely being left on their own by their parents. No, the key point now was to put better systems in place for when any abduction took place.

That nice Mr Edward McMillan-Scott, the strongly pro-European leader of the Conservatives in the European Parliament, had brought them to the European Parliament where, with dozens of journalists and camera crews present, they had made the case for a Europe-wide Amber Alert system. Over the next few weeks, their high profile intervention had led to a majority of the Parliament’s 732 MEPs backing the call for the Amber Alert system to be introduced Europe-wide. Of course, the European Parliament had no power to change anything – unlike the British Parliament, they were not a law-making body. But they could at least make a recommendation for action to the real holders of power, the unelected European Commission. It was now down to them. At least he and Kate had tried.

And how wonderful, how gratifying it was not to be portrayed any longer as neglectful parents who had totally disregarded the advice of the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children to ‘never leave young children alone, even for a few minutes’. Instead, the media had transformed them into a hero and heroine, bravely crusading in the face of adversity for vitally important improvements in the way that the police and other child welfare authorities handled claims of chid abduction. It was little short of miraculous. Perhaps God really was behind their campaign.

Gerry looked at his wine glass. There was little left. He poured more of the wine out of the bottle into his glass, nearly filling it.

He took another generous swig, feeling fortified by the thought that he was now a hero with world-wide recognition.

Indeed, things had on the whole worked out quite well since Madeleine had disappeared. True, they were without Madeleine. But the twins were happy. Yes, they had had a narrow escape with those incompetent, bungling, malicious, lazy sardine-munchers of the Portuguese police. Particularly that swine Amaral. But they’d got some of their mortgage payments covered. They’d had massive media exposure – around practically the whole world – and had made lots of money for the Helping to Find Madeleine Fund from their TV, radio, magazine and newspaper interviews. Not forgetting their profitable libel action.

Here, Clarence’s advice and help in always coming up with some new exclusive ‘titbit’ for the next interview had been invaluable. It had worked a treat. The media had lapped it up. The media, he had discovered, were not in the least concerned about the truth. No. What mattered to them, above all, was ratings. Or sales.

Once this was understood, dealing with the media was easy. A piece of cake.

It was a shame, though, that Kate was no longer a part-time General Practitioner. But she had made approaches to chid care charities and they seemed keen on making use of Kate’s experiences and advice in some kind of advocacy role in child welfare. And though his carer as a cardiologist was effectively on hold, he had in effect re-invented himself as a crusading hero for abducted children. It was an image he held in his mind for some time.

And, he reflected, gazing again at the bougainvillea swaying brightly in the gathering breeze, he now had this beautiful Mediterranean retreat, where they could escape from all the stress and pressure.

Which finally brought Gerry to the momentous events of those first three days in May which had transformed his pleasant, but hirtherto unspectacular, life, into a situation where he was one of the best-known faces on world television, and was now becoming known for his determined, courageous advocacy, rather than as a negligent Doctor who, with his wife, was cheerfully knocking back wine, tequilas and strawberry daiquiris whilst his daughter was stolen from his unlocked holiday apartment.

He rehearsed the events in his mind, for perhaps the thousandth time. His thoughts re-wound to the night of Tuesday 1 May.

by ‘Montmorillonite’ – COPYRIGHT