“If any of us do it’ll sink,” Brown said. “But you won’t Joe. You appreciate that the Party’s decisions are always right. Other­wise why be in the Party?”

He patted me on the back; I felt that the gesture was the equivalent of patting an obedient dog. He began to explain to Arthur why it had been decided not to apply for a compulsory purchase order after all; I didn’t bother to listen, I knew all about the block of luxury flats which were going to be built on the Palace site. And I knew the difference between the amount that Amborough would receive for the site from the Council and the amount that he would receive from the company which was going to build the block of flats.

My opinion on the ethics of the matter was irrelevant: I was a sound reliable man who wouldn’t rock the boat, I wouldn’t have the guts to, I had never had the guts to do anything that I wanted to: I had sold myself to the first bidder, I would never be any more than a sound reliable man obeying orders without question. I had betrayed Alice, I had betrayed Norah: I had been given two chances of freedom and I hadn’t had the guts to take either. I hated the room, I hated the green and buff country; but I would live in it until I died.

I thought of the first time that I had met Norah. A wind and night; she had worn a white trenchcoat and a blue headscarf, she had stood for a moment outside this building. And then she walked away. She had walked away. I had walked up the steps of the Club, across the terrazzo flooring of the entrance hall, and into this room. It was all over; why did I torture myself?

George Aisgill looked at me sharply. “You’re not very talka­tive, Joe.”

“My father-in-law can talk for both of us,” I said.

He chuckled. “Do you know, I feel rather sorry for Hewley.”

“He doesn’t,” I said, nodding towards Brown.

George lowered his voice. “He’s an old tartar, isn’t he? He always gets his own way.”

“He has done so far.”

“I only hope Hewley bows to the inevitable. I’m not in the mood for one of his long speeches.” He looked out of the win­dow. “It’s a lovely night,” he said. “The moon’s as bright as day.”

“It’s cold,” I said.

“I don’t know why we do it,” he said. “Shall I tell you what I wanted to do tonight? I wanted to go for a long drive in the moonlight. It’s something I’ve not done for years.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Need you ask? We can’t always do what we’d like to do.”

“Can’t we?”