“If you want to have a private conversation,” said the ambassador, “the bathroom, with the taps running, is the only safe place.”

Giles unpacked, showered, and came back downstairs to join some Dutch and Swedish colleagues for a late lunch. Although they were old friends, it didn’t stop them pumping each other for information.

“So tell me, Giles, is Labour going to win the election?” asked Stellen Christerson, the Swedish foreign minister.

“Officially, we can’t lose. Unofficially, it’s too close to call.”

“And if you do win, will Mr. Wilson make you foreign secretary?”

“Unofficially, I have to be in with a chance.”

“And officially?” asked Jan Hilbert, the Dutch minister.

“I shall serve Her Majesty’s Government in whatever capacity the prime minister thinks fit.”

“And I’m going to win the next Monte Carlo Rally,” said Hilbert.

“And I’m going back to my suite to check over my papers,” said Giles, aware that only debutants sat around drinking just to end up spending the next day yawning. You had to be wide awake if you hoped to catch the one unguarded revelation that often made hours of negotiating worthwhile.

*   *   *

The conference opened the following morning with a speech by the East German general secretary, Walter Ulbricht, who welcomed the delegates. It was clear that the contents had been written in Moscow, while the words were delivered by the Soviets’ puppet in East Berlin.

Giles leaned back, closed his eyes, and pretended to listen to the translation of a speech he’d heard several times before, but his mind soon began to wander. Suddenly he heard an anxious voice ask, “I hope there’s nothing wrong with my translation, Sir Giles?”

Giles glanced around. The Foreign Office had made it clear that, although every minister would have their own interpreter, they came with a health warning. Most of them worked for the Stasi, and any unfortunate remark or lapse in behavior would undoubtedly be reported back to their masters in the East German Politburo.

What had taken Giles by surprise was not so much the concerned inquiry made by the young woman, as the fact that he could have sworn he detected a slight West Country accent.

“Your translation is just fine,” he said, taking a closer look at her. “It’s just that I’ve heard this speech, or a slight variation of it, several times before.”