‘Is it time to go along to him?’

‘I’ll see if he’s out of his shower.’ Robin picked up his phone.

They had already been interrupted by the foreign secretary, shortly after Charles’s arrival. He had appeared in Robin’s doorway in shorts and running kit, wet and still slightly breathless. He had greeted Charles and then said to Robin, ‘Got a moment when I’ve had my shower? That budget business. I’ve had an idea.’ He turned again to Charles, who had stood. ‘Business good? Plenty of spying? Bags of secrets for us?’

‘Could be, Secretary of State, if you like what we’ve just been discussing.’

‘Come along with Robin. Give me two ticks.’ He ran his hand through his hair, showering the carpet with drips, and closed the door.

‘Don’t miss a bloody trick, do you?’ said Robin.

Charles smiled and sat again. ‘Not between friends. Anyway, whether we’re to do it or not we need a decision today.’

‘I must have something on paper.’

‘That’s in train now. It was mostly done last night. You’ll get it in good time if he agrees.’

The foreign secretary, showered and now almost in suit and tie, was still perspiring slightly when they entered his office. He was the third foreign secretary Charles had worked for and so far there had been no disasters or difficult issues.

‘Sit down, sit down.’ The foreign secretary gestured as he tucked some of his shirt into his trousers. He looked at Charles. ‘You run, don’t you?’

‘Just about. Not as far or as often as I should and slower than I used to.’

‘Robin here doesn’t believe in exercise. I keep telling him he should, take his mind off work, but he hates taking his mind off work and he stays thin.’ The foreign secretary grabbed the flesh bulging through his shirt. ‘Bloody annoying for someone like me. Now, have you got any goodies?’

‘We’ve got a problem,’ said Robin.

‘Got enough of those already.’

‘Which is also an opportunity,’ said Charles.

‘That’s more like it.’

The explanation came mostly from Charles, with interjections from Robin, while the foreign secretary slumped expressionless on the sofa. As before when talking to this foreign secretary, Charles found himself talking too quickly, almost gabbling under the pressure of a quick and restless intelligence that had seen where he was going before he’d said it and was now on the brink of boredom, or had already moved on to something else. When he finished Robin added that, although there was nothing on paper yet, a submission was in preparation. He would make up his mind finally when he saw it in writing but meanwhile he would advise strongly against going along with what Charles proposed; there were too many risks, too many unknowns.