“He’s a genuine working-class genius.”

“What did he want?”

“He wanted me to stand up in the House of Commons and denounce President Kennedy as a warmonger.”

“So you should!”

“And what happens if Labour wins the next general election? Suppose I become foreign secretary. I might have to go to the White House and ask the president’s support for something the Labour government wants to do, perhaps a resolution in the United Nations against racial discrimination in South Africa. Kennedy might remember how I insulted him, and tell me to drop dead.”

Evie said: “You should do it anyway.”

“Calling someone a warmonger usually doesn’t help. If I thought it would resolve the current crisis, I would do it. But it’s a card you can play only once, and I prefer to save it for a winning hand.”

Jasper reflected that Lloyd was a pragmatic politician. He approved.

Evie did not. “I believe that people should stand up and tell the truth,” she said.

Lloyd smiled. “I’m proud to have such a daughter,” he said. “I hope you will hold on to that belief all your life. But now I must go and explain the crisis to my supporters in the East End.”

Daisy said: “Bye, kids. See you later.”

They went out.

Evie said: “Who won that argument?”

Your father did, Jasper thought, hands down; but he did not say so.

• • •

George returned to downtown Washington in a state of high anxiety. Everyone had been working on the assumption that an invasion of Cuba was bound to succeed. The Frogs changed everything. U.S. troops would now face battlefield nuclear weapons. Perhaps the Americans would still prevail, but the war would be harder and would cost more lives, and the result was no longer a foregone conclusion.

He got out of his taxi at the White House and stopped by the press office. Maria was at her desk. He was happy to see that she looked much better than she had three days earlier. “I’m fine, thank you,” she said in answer to George’s query. A small weight of worry lifted from his heart, leaving the larger still heavy on him. She was recovering physically, but he did not know what spiritual damage was being caused by her secret love affair.

He was not able to ask her more intimate questions because she had company. With her was a young black man in a tweed jacket. “Meet Leopold Montgomery,” she said. “He’s with Reuters. He came by to pick up a press release.”

“Call me Lee,” the man said.

George said: “I guess there aren’t many colored reporters covering Washington.”

“I’m the only one,” Lee said.

Maria said: “George Jakes works with Bobby Kennedy.”

Lee suddenly became more interested. “What’s he like?”

“It’s a great job,” George said, avoiding the question. “Mainly I advise on civil rights. We take legal action against Southern states that prevent Negroes from voting.”

“But we need a new civil rights act.”