‘He’s willing to start a trial run on the clickbait algorithm immediately, Mr President,’ Nicolas Dupart was saying. ‘Even before the funding is in place. In my opinion it’s the sensible course to take. And I’ve taken the liberty to speak to Kelvin on the topic in advance of this meeting and he agrees with that assessment. Don’t you, Kelvin?’

Nicolas Dupart paused, clearly awaiting a contribution from Cunningham.

Knowles’ eyes followed in the same direction.

Cunningham was in his usual seat. His mind, though, seemed somewhere else entirely.

‘Kelvin?’

There was a tone of irritation in Dupart’s voice that surprised Knowles. He usually found the senior advisor to be quite emotionless. And it was rare for anyone to direct any form of displeasure at the intimidating deputy assistant. It seemed to break through whatever had been preoccupying Cunningham.

‘Yes?’ He turned to face Dupart.

‘Are you OK, Kelvin?’ Knowles had never seen Cunningham so distracted either. But then his mood was understandable.

Cunningham’s eyes flicked towards him.

‘Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Why?’

‘Because you don’t seem to have heard a word Nick’s been saying. Is something wrong?’

Cunningham glared at Knowles. And the president knew why. Yes, there was something wrong. But it was not something Cunningham would want to discuss in the presence of Nicolas Dupart.

‘I’m sorry.’ Cunningham smiled. A false one, Knowles could tell. For the benefit of their guest. ‘I . . . I didn’t get much sleep last night. It must be catching up with me.’

‘You’re sure that’s all it is, Kelvin?’ Dupart asked, though without a hint of concern. ‘It’s not something we can help with?’

‘No. No, Nick. It’s nothing. I just . . .’ Cunningham seemed to be thinking fast ‘. . . maybe I should have listened to your advice yesterday, after you told me about your father. I think it hit me harder than I realised.’

Dupart nodded his head.

‘I thought that might be it. Remember what I said to you yesterday. If you need time, time to . . . whatever, I’m sure President Knowles will give you it.’

‘I hadn’t realised anyone had died.’ Knowles was confused by the exchange. ‘Your father, Nick?’

‘Yes, Mr President. Yesterday. After a long illness.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. And Kelvin knew him?’

‘For a very long time, Mr President, yes. He was kind of a mentor to Kelvin. Wasn’t he?’

‘Then why are you both still here?’ Knowles did not wait for Cunningham to answer Dupart’s question. ‘For Christ’s sake, this stuff can wait, surely?’

‘My father would have wanted me to keep working, sir,’ Dupart explained. ‘It was very much the family ethos. I would be dishonouring him if I did not follow it now.’

‘But—’

Knowles did not finish his sentence. He was interrupted by a knock on the one of the Oval Office doors. Knowles looked towards it, just as Assistant Director Jack Meyer stepped through the doorway.

Once again, Meyer looked red with stress.