CHAPTER 30

I went through the portal of Number Ten as the N.C.O. indicated, the sense of unreality growing rapidly. A smartly-dressed woman greeted me in front of the fireplace, which had featured as a background in countless T.V. reports of various Prime Ministers shaking hands with a motley assortment of world leaders.

     ‘Good morning, Mr Jilkes. The General is…’

     ‘The name’s Jewkes,’ I cut in. ‘If you want the new way to be better than the old, you could make a worse start than to get people’s names right.’

     ‘Oh dear, I’m terribly sorry,’ she twittered. ‘I can only assume your name was mis-heard by someone on the end of a telephone line… as I was saying, the General is expecting you. Please come with me.’

     I glowered at her, but said no more. Best not to push one’s luck, even though their view of me had changed. It was reasonable to assume they no longer had any intention of killing me, but the sudden V.I.P. treatment was still puzzling. We went up a couple of flights of stairs. The woman knocked at a closed door, which was immediately opened from the inside. A man in civilian clothes greeted me with oily false charm. He looked every inch the typical Civil Service toady.

     ‘Ah – Mr Jewkes! Do come in, won’t you.’

     I stepped across the threshold. A heavily-built man in an immaculate uniform sat behind a desk. He was dwarfed by the portrait of the Queen on the wall behind him. I felt overwhelming relief at the sight of the painting; so some things were still normal.

     The man at the door said fawningly, ‘Mr Jewkes, this is General Sir Maxwell Sutherland. He has assumed the responsibilities of the former Prime Minister for the duration of the National Emergency.’

     The General rose, saying, ‘Thank you, Mr Oliver, Miss Ingles. That will be all for now. Please ensure that we are not disturbed.’

     Sutherland’s voice was quiet and even. He addressed me in the same tone after the door closed, leaving us alone.

     ‘Sit down please, Mr Jewkes. We have a great deal to discuss.’