Hugh looked indignant. ‘I don’t see what’s difficult about it at all. You don’t owe the man anything. I apologize for ever having got you involved with him, but I’m not happy with the idea of my son going around with a man who’s talking up what amounts to ethnic cleansing. One more atrocity like that hostel and he’s going to have public opinion right alongside.’

Hugh’s voice had risen a couple of decibels as it was apt to do when he was on a hobby-horse. A couple at the next table were staring at them.

Tom raised his hands to his father in a placatory gesture. ‘Please, Dad, can we not discuss this now? I’ve had a pretty gruelling few days and I just need to chill. Okay?’

But Hugh wasn’t looking at his son or listening to him: his eyes were fixed on something behind him. ‘Well, talk of the devil.’

Tom looked round. Rolt had just entered the dining room. He seemed to be lingering in the doorway, as if to make the most of his entrance. Conversations petered out and there was a hush as everyone gradually became aware of his presence.

All eyes were on him, the man of the moment. The whole atmosphere of the room had changed. Someone started to clap and soon a ripple of applause spread throughout the room. Tom glanced at his father, whose hands remained firmly clenched in front of him, a knowing eyebrow raised. Less than a week ago such a display of impromptu adulation would have been unimaginable. But Hugh was right: Rolt had picked a scab and uncovered a festering sore underneath. And it alarmed Tom to see just how vulnerable people were to his charm and charisma.

He looked away, but it was too late. Rolt had spotted him from his vantage-point in the doorway and was striding towards their table, with another man in tow. There was nothing else to do: Tom got to his feet as Rolt bore down on them.

‘Tom, you dark horse! You slipped back to London without passing by. I’m crestfallen.’ Rolt pumped his hand.

‘You remember my father, Hugh Buckingham.’

Hugh, ever the gentleman, stood up and they shook hands.

‘I really am in your debt for sending Tom my way. I don’t mind telling you he’s the best thing that’s happened to Invicta in a long while.’

‘Well, it’s very nice to hear that. Always good for a father to see his son getting rave reviews.’

Rolt turned to the man he was with. ‘Alec, meet Tom Buckingham, my latest recruit, who’s been doing sterling work for me across the pond. Tom, Alec Clements, cabinet secretary.’

From the Office of the Cabinet Secretary. The ‘Alec’ on the compliments slip in the book on Stutz’s coffee-table.

‘Delighted.’ Clements nodded to both of them, his lack of interest transparent.