I wanted to read this book not only because the author has written two good biographies, Livingstone and Baden-Powell, but also because of the sunny, splashy cover picture showing father and small son in one-piece bathing suits. It starts, ‘My father loved to swim in rivers, and in 1949, when I turned four and he forty-three, he started taking me with him. Sounds like the beginning of a joyous and free book. But it’s actually a fairly painful one. The characters are captive – bound by duty, and also love.