‘For what?’ Sir Alan turned his gaze towards him.

Ian was briefly flustered. ‘I just promised not to be late for dinner.’

‘I understand that your reputation for good timekeeping can’t be held hostage by important matters of state, but all the same . . .’

Ian bridled. Only a short time ago, his brazen insubordination, even rudeness, would have been unthinkable, but his insolence was a testament to Sir Alan’s fading power. He had been in the job for seven years now, his standard five-year term extended twice, but it was unlikely to be amended for a third time, and Ian’s attempt to woo the prime minister to appoint him Sir Alan’s successor was Whitehall’s worst-kept secret.

‘We really can’t take this any further now, Alan.’ Ian was addressing him as if Kate wasn’t present. ‘I’m happy to stay all night, if need be, as always.’ He shook his head. ‘But nothing is going to be said, I fear, that will persuade me to change my mind. I propose a keen watching brief on Estonia, but as for the rest . . .’ he shrugged ‘. . . we should let it go.’

As Kate watched the two men squaring up to each other, like stags long past their prime, she was reminded of Stuart’s succinct summary of Ian Granger. ‘He’s just a bit of a cunt,’ he would say. ‘Everyone has a boss like that once in a while.’

If thinking of Stuart wasn’t in itself so painful, it might have made her smile.

Ian departed. Sir Alan peered at the whisky in his glass, then drank it straight. ‘If he ends up as your replacement, I’m going to kill myself,’ Kate said.

Sir Alan went to refill his glass. ‘You’ll have to excuse his manners. Ella has just filed for a divorce.’

‘Christ. Why?’ Ella was Ian’s long-suffering wife. The pair had met at Oxford and he liked to boast of her incredible success in building an online retail empire selling sleepwear. ‘I mean, I always assumed she must know about his affairs.’

‘Suspecting is one thing, but it turns out knowing is another. She found the phone he’d been using to arrange his assignations.’

‘With Julie?’

‘He wasn’t in a mood to be specific. It only happened this afternoon.’

‘Oh, shit. That would explain it. She got a text while we were travelling back from Venice.’

‘He tells me he’s in love and fully intends to marry her.’

‘Julie? He thinks he’s going to marry Julie?’ Kate was aghast. If the two of them having an affair was puzzling enough, marriage would be incomprehensible. ‘She thinks it’s just sex. Expedient, because she can’t be bothered to date properly. I feel sorry for him.’

‘I doubt that. I don’t. Somewhere in there, beneath the vaulting ambition and the deep-seated insecurities, is a man whose heart is basically in the right place, but I’m afraid I lost sight of that individual a long time ago.’

‘Subtlety has never been his strong point.’