A Delicate Truth A Novel

accent all but forgotten:
    ‘I fear I am about to interfere with your plans for a mini-break with your significant other, Toby,’ he announces, managing to imply that Toby has only himself to blame. ‘Is that going to cause you major problems?’
    ‘None at all, Minister,’ Toby replies, mentally saying goodbye to a brief getaway in Dublin, and probably to Isabel as well.
    ‘I happen to be under considerable pressure to hold an extremely secret meeting here tomorrow. In this very room. A meeting of the highest national importance.’
    ‘You wish me to attend it, Minister?’
    ‘Far from it. On no account may you attend, thank you. You’re not cleared; your presence is in no way desirable. Don’t take that personally. However, once again I wish your assistance in making the advance preparations. No champagne this time, alas. No foie gras either.’
    ‘I understand.’
    ‘I doubt it. However, for the meeting that has been thrust upon me, certain exceptional security measures require to be taken. I wish you, as my Private Secretary, to take them for me.’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘You sound puzzled. Why?’
    ‘Not puzzled , Minister. It’s just – if your meeting is so secret, why does it have to be held in this room at all? Why not outside the Office altogether? Or in the soundproof room upstairs?’
    Quinn jerks up his heavy head, scenting insubordination, then consents to answer:
    ‘Because my very insistent visitor – visitors plural , actually – are in a position to call the shots, and it is my bounden duty as minister to deliver. Are you up for it, or do I look for someone else?’
    ‘Entirely up for it, Minister.’
    ‘Very well. You know, I take it, a certain side door leading into this building from Horse Guards? For the tradesmen and non-classified deliveries? A green metal door with bars in front of it?’
    Toby knows the door but, not being what the Man of the People calls a tradesman, hasn’t had occasion to use it.
    ‘You know the ground-floor corridor that leads to it? Beneath us now, as we stand here? Two floors down?’ – losing patience – ‘As you come in by the main doors, for God’s sake, on the right-hand side of the lobby. You pass it every day. Yes?’
    Yes, he knows the corridor, too.
    ‘Tomorrow morning, Saturday, my guests – my visitors , all right? – whatever they want to call themselves’ – the note ofresentment now becoming a refrain – ‘will arrive at that side entrance in two parties. Separately. One after the other. In short order. Still with me?’
    ‘Still with you, Minister.’
    ‘I’m glad. From 11.45 to 13.45 hours precisely – for those two hours only , got it? – that side entrance will be unmanned . No member of security staff will be on duty for those one hundred and twenty minutes . All video cameras and other security devices covering that side entrance, and the route from that side entrance to this room, will be rendered inert . Deactivated. Switched off. For those two hours only. I’ve fixed it all personally. You don’t have to do anything on that front, so don’t even try. Now follow me closely.’
    The minister raises a squat, muscular palm to Toby’s face and demonstratively tweaks the little finger with the thumb and index finger of the other hand:
    ‘On your arrival tomorrow morning at 10 a.m. you go straight to Security Department and confirm that my instruction to vacate and unlock the side entrance and turn off all surveillance systems has been duly noted and is about to be complied with.’
    Ring finger. The gold ring very thick, with the cross of St Andrew embossed in bold blue.
    ‘At 11.50 a.m. you proceed to the external side entrance by way of Horse Guards and enter the building by means of the said door, which has been unlocked in accordance with my instructions to Security Department. You then advance along the ground-floor corridor, establishing en route that the corridor and the rear staircase leading up from it are in no way occupied or obstructed. Still with me?’
    Middle finger:
    ‘You then make your way at your usual pace and, acting as my personal guinea pig, proceed by way of the rear staircase and adjoining landing – don’t skip or pause for a pee oranything, just walk – to this very room where we are now standing. You then confirm with Security, by internal telephone, that your journey has passed undetected. I’ve squared them, so again don’t do anything beyond what I’ve told you to do.