‘BUCHAN. Luxmore. The Silent Opposition. The students. The people beyond that bridge over there, whoever they are. Osnard. The fact that BUCHAN is a fiction. If he is. That the reports are tosh, as you call them,’
‘My dear man. We’re not being asked to do anything. We’re merely the servants of a higher cause.’
‘But if London’s swallowing it whole, and you think it’s total crap-‘
Maltby leaned forward in the way he would normally lean across his desk, fingertips together in an attitude of mute obstruction. ‘Go on.’
‘ – then you’ve got to tell them,’ said Stormont stoutly.
‘Why?’
‘To stop them being led up the garden path. Anything could happen.’
‘But Nigel. I thought we had already agreed that we were not evaluators.’
A sleek olive-coloured bird had entered their domain and was quizzing them for crumbs.
‘I’ve nothing for you,’ Maltby assured it anxiously. ‘I really haven’t. Oh damn,’ he exclaimed, plunging his hands into his pockets, patting them vainly for anything that would do. ‘Later,’ he told it. ‘Come back tomorrow. No, the day after, about this time. We’ve got a top spy descending on us.’
‘Our duty here in the Embassy, in these circumstances, Nigel, is to provide logistical support,’ Maltby went on in a tight, businesslike tone. ‘You agree?’
‘I suppose it is,’ said Stormont doubtfully.
‘To assist, where assistance is helpful. To applaud, to encourage, to cool brows. To ease the burden on those in the firing seat.’
‘Driving seat,’ said Stormont absently. ‘Or firing line, I suppose, if that’s what you mean.’
‘Thank you. Why is it that whenever I reach for a modern metaphor I come unstuck? I suppose I imagined a tank at that moment. One of Gully’s, paid for in gold bars.’
‘I suppose you did.’
Maltby’s voice gathered power as if for the benefit of the audience outside the bandstand, but there was none. ‘So it is in this spirit of wholehearted collaboration that I have made the point to London – and I am sure you will agree with me – that Andrew Osnard, whatever his sterling virtues, is too inexperienced to be handling very large sums of money, whether in the form of cash or gold. And that it is only fair, on him as well as the recipients of the money, that he be provided with a paymaster. As his Ambassador, I have selflessly volunteered for the task. London sees the wisdom of this. Whether Osnard sees it is to be doubted, but he can scarcely object, particularly since it is we – you and I, Nigel – who in due course will be taking over liaison with the Silent Opposition and the students. Money from secret funds is notoriously hard to account for and quite impossible to pursue once it has disappeared into the wrong hands. All the more important that it be scrupulously husbanded while it is in our care. I have asked that Chancery be provided with a safe of the type that Osnard has in his strongroom. The gold – and whatever else – will be stored there and you and I will be joint keyholders. If Osnard decides that he requires a large sum of money he may come to us and state his case. Assuming the sum is within the agreed guidelines you and I will jointly draw the cash and place it in the appropriate hands. Are you a rich man, Nigel?’
‘No.’
‘Nor I. Did your divorce effectively impoverish you?’
‘Yes.’
‘I would imagine so. And it will be no better when my turn comes. Phoebe is not easily satisfied.’ He glanced at Stormont for confirmation of this, but Stormont’s face, turned towards the Pacific, was set in iron.
‘It’s so very unreasonable of life,’ Maltby went on by way of small talk. ‘Here we are in middle age, healthy chaps with healthy appetites. We made a few mistakes, faced up to them, learned the lessons. And we’ve still got a few precious, wonderful years before the Zimmer frame. Only one blot spoils an otherwise perfect prospect. We’re broke.’
From the sea Stormont’s eyes had lifted to a range of cotton-wool clouds that had formed above the distant islands. And it seemed to him that he saw snow on them, and Paddy, cured of her cough, pottering cheerfully up the path to the chalet, bearing shopping from the village.