decided she preferred the British pound before it collapsed.
‘Delilah’s in great shape, Dom, thanks, just great. A bit fed up to discover my successor was a woman. She said that for as long as I was running her, she could dream that love was round the corner.’
He has a grin and a shake of the shoulders about Delilah and her many lovers, but no laughter comes out. Sip of coffee. Return cup to saucer.
‘Nat’ – plaintively.
‘Dom.’
‘I’d really thought this was going to be a flashbulb moment for you.’
‘And why would that be, Dom?’
‘Well, for heaven’s sake! I’m offering you a golden opportunity to remodel, single-handed, a home-based Russian outstation that’s been in the shade too long. With your expertise you’ll put it right in – what? – six months max? It’s creative, it’s operational, it’s you. What more can you want at your time of life?’
‘I’m afraid I’m not with you, Dom.’
‘You’re not?’
‘No. I’m not.’
‘You mean they didn’t tell you?’
‘They said talk to you. I’m talking to you. That’s as far as we’ve got.’
‘You walked in here blind? Jesus Christ. Sometimes I wonder what those fucking Human Resources people think they’re up to. Was it Moira you saw?’
‘Maybe she thought it was better coming from you, Dom, whatever it is. I think you said home-based Russian outstation that’s been in the shade too long. There’s only one I know of and it’s the Haven. It’s not an outstation, it’s a defunct substation under the aegis of London General and it’s a dumping ground for resettled defectors of nil value and fifth-rate informants on the skids. Last heard of, the Treasury were about to wind it up. They must have forgotten. Is that what you’re seriously offering me?’
‘The Haven is not a dumping ground, Nat – far, far from it. Not on my watch. It’s got a couple of officers who are long in the tooth, I grant you. And sources still waiting to realize their potential. But there’s first-rate material in there for the man or woman who knows where to look. And of course’ – as an afterthought – ‘it’s wide open to anyone who earns their spurs in the Haven to be considered for promotion to Russia department.’
‘So is that something you might be considering for yourself, by any chance, Dom?’ I enquire.
‘Is what, old boy?’
‘Making a career move to Russia department. On the back of the Haven.’
He frowns and purses his lips in disapproval. Dom is nothing if not transparent. Russia department, preferably head of it, is his life’s dream. Not because he knows the terrain, has the experience or speaks Russian. He doesn’t do any of those things. He’s a late-entrant City boy, headhunted for reasons I suspect not even he can fathom, with no linguistic qualifications worth a damn.
‘Because if that’s what’s in your mind, Dom, I’d like to make the same journey with you, if that’s all right,’ I press on facetiously or playfully or angrily, I’m not sure which. ‘Or might you be planning to rip the labels off my reports and stick on your own, the way you did in Budapest? Just asking, Dom.’
Dom thinks about this, which means he first looks at me over his wedding-arch fingers, then into the middle distance, then back at me again to make sure I’m still there.
‘Here’s my offer to you, Nat, take or leave. In my capacity as head of London General. I am formally offering you the opportunity to succeed Giles Wackford as head of substation Haven. For as long as I engage you on a temporary basis, you’re within my gift. You’ll be taking over Giles’s agents and his Station imprest forthwith. Also his entertainment allowance, what’s left of it. I’m suggesting you hit the ground running and pick up on the rest of your home leave at a later date. What’s your question?’
‘Doesn’t play for me, Dom.’
‘And why would that be, pray?’
‘I have to talk this whole thing through with Prue.’
‘And when you and Prue have so talked?’
‘Our daughter Stephanie is about to celebrate her nineteenth birthday. I’ve promised to take her and Prue for a week’s skiing before she goes back to Bristol.’
He cranes forward, frowning theatrically at a wall calendar.
‘Starting when?’
‘She’s in her second semester.’
‘I am asking when you leave on your holiday.’
‘At five a.m. from Stansted on Saturday, if you’re thinking of joining us.’
‘Assuming you and Prue have talked things over by then and come to a satisfactory conclusion, I suppose I can have Giles hold the fort