Mary made another note. “All right. I’ll see what I can do.” She turned to the public affairs consular, Jerry Davis. “What are your problems?”
“My department is having trouble getting approvals for repairs on the apartments our embassy staff live in. Their quarters are in a disgraceful condition.”
“Can’t they just go ahead and have their own repairs made?”
“Unfortunately, no. The Romanian government has to approve all repairs. Some of our people are without heat, and in several of the apartments the toilets don’t work and there’s no running water.”
“Have you complained about this?”
“Yes, ma’am. Every day for the last three months.”
“Then why—?”
“It’s called harassment,” Mike Slade explained. “It’s a war of nerves they like to play with us.”
Mary made another note.
“Madam Ambassador, I have an extremely urgent problem,” Jack Chancelor, the head of the American library, said. “Only yesterday some very important reference books were stolen from…”
Ambassador Ashley was beginning to get a headache.
The afternoon was spent listening to a series of complaints. Everyone seemed unhappy. And then there was the reading. On her desk was a blizzard of white paper. There were the English translations of newspaper items that had appeared the day before in Romanian papers and magazines. Most of the stories in the popular newspaper Scinteia Tineretului were about the daily activities of President Ionescu, with three or four pictures of him on every single page. The incredible ego of the man, Mary thought.
There were other condensations to read: The Romania Libera, the weekly Flacara Rosie, and Magafinul. And that was only the beginning. There was the wireless file and the summary of news developments reported in the United States. There was a file of the full texts of important American officials’ speeches, a thick report on arms-control negotiations, and an update on the state of the United States economy.
There’s enough reading material in one day, Mary thought, to keep me busy for years, and I’m going to get this every morning.
But the problem that disturbed Mary most was the feeling of antagonism from her staff. That had to be handled immediately.
She sent for Harriet Kruger, her protocol officer.
“How long have you worked here at the embassy?” Mary asked.
“Four years before our break with Romania, and now three glorious months.” There was a note of irony in her voice.
“Don’t you like it here?”
“I’m a McDonald’s and Coney Island girl. Like the song says, ‘Show Me the Way to Go Home.’”
“May we have an off-the-record conversation?”
“No, ma’am.”
Mary had forgotten. “Why don’t we adjourn to the Bubble Room?” she suggested.
When Mary and Harriet Kruger were seated at the table in the Bubble Room, with the heavy door safely closed behind them, Mary said, “Something just occurred to me. Our meeting today was held in the conference room. Isn’t that bugged?”
“Probably,” Kruger said cheerfully. “But it doesn’t matter. Mike Slade wouldn’t let anything be discussed that the Romanians aren’t already aware of.”
Mike Slade again.
“What do you think of Slade?”
“He’s the best.”
Mary decided not to express her opinion. “The reason I wanted to talk to you is because I got the feeling today that the morale around here isn’t very good. Everyone’s complaining. No one seems happy. I would like to know whether it’s because of me, or whether it’s always that way.”
Harriet Kruger studied her for a moment. “You want an honest answer?”
“Please.”
“It’s a combination of both. The Americans working here are in a pressure cooker. We break the rules, and we’re in big trouble. We’re afraid to make friends with Romanians because they’ll probably turn out to belong to the Securitate, so we stick with the Americans. We’re a small group, so pretty soon that gets boring and incestuous.” She shrugged. “The pay is small, the food is lousy, and the weather is bad.” She studied Mary. “None of that is your fault, Madam Ambassador. You have two problems: The first is that you’re a political appointee and you’re in charge of an embassy manned by career diplomats.” She stopped. “Am I coming on too strong?”
“No, please go on.”