‘Well, in the past people like him were always on the fringe. They’d make a bit of a noise, get a few headlines, then disappear back into the swamp they came from. But Rolt, with his reasoned tone and presentable looks, he’s gone mainstream, if you like. And instead of putting a cordon sanitaire round him and giving him a wide berth, everyone seems to be climbing on his band-wagon. Half of Westminster is queuing up for a photo-opportunity with him, as if he’s some kind of magic bullet for their fading popularity. I have a bad feeling in my water that something quite fundamental is happening and I don’t like it one bit.’

‘Is that so?’ Tom knew he was coming over as defensive when he had no need to be. Was it that he didn’t want to go down in his father’s estimation – even if it had been his idea in the first place?

‘Well, you must have noticed.’

‘I’ve just been in America, remember, but go on. I’m interested in your point of view.’ Tom sat back, prepared for a lecture.

‘Well, if you follow his argument to its logical conclusion, it’s damn near forcible repatriation. Even Enoch Powell didn’t advocate that. And in some cases, because we’re also talking about people who were born here – there’s no other way of putting it – it’s deportation. And I’ll tell you something else.’

He gestured discreetly at the other diners and lowered his voice. ‘It’s putting the jump leads on some of these old farts who’ve been minding their Ps and Qs, toeing the politically correct line and so forth. There’s all kinds of nasty stuff coming out of the woodwork. In fact,’ he jabbed a forefinger at the table, ‘it almost smacks of what went on in Germany in the thirties. And I don’t say that lightly.’

What could Tom say? There’d been many times he and his father hadn’t seen eye to eye, but this wasn’t one of them. In fact, he agreed with every word.

And he now saw very clearly where he stood. He had gone to Texas with an open mind, pissed off with the Army, with MI5, in fact the whole British Establishment, and had plunged head first into an entirely alien world, like nothing he had experienced before. Having seen what he had seen – and survived – he had emerged with a burning desire to get to the bottom of what Stutz and Rolt were up to and stop it in its tracks. He had successfully inserted himself into Invicta so was better placed than anyone to chase down what was going on. It would be madness to bail out now.

But he couldn’t let on to his father, not yet.

‘Look, Dad, it’s difficult.’