‘That is why I wanted to see Gareth. This is what I wanted to tell him.’ He poured them both more wine and leaned forward, his elbows on the table. ‘I have heard from someone who is in a position to know that the French and German presidents have privately agreed a compromise figure that they would accept. But it is to remain strictly private because they are still trying to get Britain to come up to here.’ He raised his hand palm downwards again, smiling.

‘What is the figure?’

‘I don’t know, he didn’t say, but I think it is about here.’ He lowered his hand until it was about halfway down to the table. ‘It is above the British maximum and below the EU minimum. If the British can come up to it, the EU will settle. Then both parties can have a good deal.’

‘Who told you this?’

‘I am sorry, Charles, I cannot tell you. It is more than my life is worth. I could not even tell Gareth in confidence. But one day I shall, I promise.’

Charles decided it was time for some handwork theatricals of his own. He put down his glass and sat back, shrugging, pursing his lips and raising his hands in a gesture of hopeless appeal. ‘I’m sorry, Eddie, this is not good enough. I won’t even report it. Un-sourced information is no good to us. We have to be able to validate it. If the British government is to increase its offer by many billions then it needs to know not only that it will be accepted but what it will get in return. And in order to feel sure of that it needs to know where the information comes from.’

‘But it will get everything in return, it will get the trade deal it wants.’

Charles lowered his hands and leaned forward so that they were elbow to elbow. ‘Who said it and how much?’

Timber Wolf exhaled, his warm breath wafting across to Charles. ‘You are being very hard with me. You put me in a difficult position.’

As Gareth clearly never did, Charles thought. ‘But you do understand, Eddie, why un-sourced information is no use to us?’

Timber Wolf looked down at his plate, shaking his head. When he looked up again he was smiling broadly enough for his small eyes to disappear behind folds of flesh. ‘I will not say a name but I can tell you enough for you to work it out. I think you will find it is a credible and authoritative source.’ He paused, looking for a reaction. Charles did not react. He went on. ‘The presidents of France and Germany each have a chef de cabinet. You know that, of course. Well, it was one of them.’ He sat back.

‘When?’