The room went quiet. Their petty smugness at having started without her was trumped by the fact that she’d had a private call with the prime minister, as she’d known it would. Curiosity compelled them to listen.

‘He wants to bring in some fresh Muslim voices – “press the reset button” on relations with the Islamic community.’ She looked up. ‘Fine, so long as it’s not wired to blow up in our faces.’

Round the table, uncomfortable titters broke out. Her off-the-cuff remarks had often got her into trouble but she didn’t care; they were part of her arsenal in the guerrilla warfare of politics. She allowed herself a rare smile of satisfaction that she could control the atmosphere in a room full of male self-importance. As she took her seat she scanned the attendees. Conspicuous by their absence were any cabinet members: with the PM away, the imperative to show up was gone. And, in turn, department heads had sent their deputies or their deputies’ deputies. This was supposed to be the decision-making forum for domestic-crisis management. Fat chance.

The only exceptions were John Halford, the Metropolitan Police commissioner, who was in deep conversation with the deputy head of the Civil Contingencies Secretariat, and Delamere, the army chief of general staff. The owner of the only unfamiliar face was seated slightly apart, his tie adrift. She glared at him until he eventually looked up.

‘Woolf, ma’am, MI5.’

‘Don’t “ma’am” me, Woolf. I’m not the bloody Queen – yet.’

Another titter went round the room until the sound of a pen tapping a cup brought them to order.

Alec Clements, the Foreign Office mandarin recently seconded to the Cabinet Office, seemed to have appointed himself chair in the prime minister’s absence. He leaned back and spread his hands. ‘Shall we make a start?’

To her annoyance, he had also bagged the head of the table. This constant manoeuvring and jockeying for position was both pathetic and tiresome, but it went with the territory. She cleared her throat and from her seat, directly opposite Halford, raised her voice just enough to make sure she had everyone’s attention. She had already made up her mind what she wanted out of this.

‘Thank you, Alec. Let’s keep this brief, shall we? We all need to get back to our posts.’

Having seized the initiative, she fixed her gaze on the commissioner, who was doing a lot of silent nodding with the army chief.

‘John, shall we start with your update on the Suleiman shooting?’