In the early 1920's my Dad, then a young lad, told me of the time that HMS Hood appeared off Cape Town bay. Almost everyone ran down to the waterfront just to catch a glimpse of the most beautiful and powerful 'battleship' that the world had ever seen. Those present that day could only wonder as to who could have designed, built and then sent such a beautiful vessel those thousands of miles to the tip of Africa.

Some years later, as a 17 year-old, his family staked everything on sending him to study medicine at Edinburgh University; not far from the yard tha had built Hood and many other famous ships. The sense of wonderment moved up a gear coming from a country riven by apartheid as he discovered people, in Scotland and later England, who were tolerant, friendly, inclusive and kind.

"The fumes of death were embracing him…she wanted to shriek to the heavens themselves as her own strength began to fade, if only they could intervene on her behalf, rather than play mute witness to the brutal, cruel events unfolding with foretold precision. She thought about sitting in the car with him and letting the prophecy devour them both in an all-consuming haze. This is why she had chosen the passenger door. He was to die so that she might live."