Free Someone Wishes to Speak to You by Jeremy Mallinson

their mothers in celebration of their new-found freedom in the verdant meadows of the surrounding countryside. Seeing once more the familiar landscapes of natural beauty and rich diversity, Mathew had found himself with a growing feeling of belongingness in this return to his birth place, an environment that could hardly be more of a contrast to the Central African montane forests of Kahuzi-Biega.
    As the Daimler drew up in front of the impressive main entrance to Hartington Hall, Sir Colin had been quick to descend the expansive flight of limestone steps to greet his younger son. As Mathew stepped out of the car, his father for a moment dropped his usual formal approach by embracing him with insuppressible emotion, such was his delight in seeing his son again.
    ‘Mathew! My boy! So good to see you . . . Let’s have a look at you then . . . Glad to see you’re all in one piece. Not quite as warm here as you’re used to, I dare say.’
    ‘It’s so good to be back on home ground – I can’t tell you how beautiful it looks!’
    ‘Quite so, we’re very lucky. Well, come in, come in . . . We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.’
    Over dinner that evening, Mathew provided his parents with as much information about his time in Africa as he considered appropriate. It felt rather like the prodigal son returning to his home from afar, with the fatted calf having just been slaughtered. He told them about the great variety of people he had been privileged to have encountered; the diversity of the environments he had seen during his travels around Lake Kivu, including the dramatic beauty of the Virunga volcanoes; the tremendous respect and admiration he had gained for the gorilla family he had studied, in particular the quality of their social life; the great help his professor’s introduction to Adrien Deschryver had been, on behalf of Emory University and the Yerkes Primate Research Center; and how grateful he was that his father’s grouse-shooting friend, the Belgian CEO of Amiza, had sponsored his accommodation.
    After Mathew had finished summarising as many of his experiences as the conversation at the dinner table had allowed, he moved on to his future plans. ‘Over the next few months, while I’m here with you, my priority has to be to analyse and compare all the data I’ve gathered on gorillas in captivity and those living in the wild state. Once I’ve finished that analysis, I have to start writing up my doctorate thesis – I’m due to be interviewed by an Emory University examination board at the end of November, under the chairmanship of my mentor, Professor Osman Hill.’
    ‘It sounds as though you have it all thoroughly planned out, darling,’ said Lady Sally. ‘So you’ll be able to stay for quite a while, will you?’
    ‘It all depends on how much work I can get done without access to the library at the Yerkes Center, but I do expect to be here for the next five to six months, at least . . .’
    Sir Colin Duncan had been born in 1910 and was only four when his father, Sir Reginald, acquired his baronetcy at the start of the First World War. In 1928 he was appointed Head Boy of Sedbergh School in north Yorkshire, and the following year he embarked upon a three year BSc (Hons) Countryside Management course at the Royal Agricultural College at Cirencester. After attaining his degree, he spent the next five years gaining valuable experience by carrying out management responsibilities on two sizeable country estates, one in Westmorland and one in the lowlands of Scotland, prior to taking over the running of the Hartington Hall estate, which had been in the Duncan family since the mid-seventeenth century.
    In 1937, he had married Sally Parkinson, the daughter of a wealthy property and upmarket department store owner in Bradford. The wedding had taken place at Bolton Abbey, followed by a lavish reception at the nearby Devonshire Arms. The honeymoon had been spent in the Italian lakes at the