Page 115 of Never

That wasn’t true, Pauline thought, but she kept smiling.

Her attention was drawn away as Milton Lapierre appeared. Oh, shit, she thought, I don’t need this now. She had not expected him to be here – there was no reason for it. He had resigned, and Pauline had nominated a replacement vice-president, who was now going through the process of being approved by both houses of Congress. But the story of his affair with sixteen-year-old Rita Cross had not yet hit the media, and she guessed he was trying to maintain a pretence that everything was all right.

Milt did not look good. He had a whisky glass in his hand and he seemed to have sipped quite a lot from it. His tuxedo was expensive, but his cummerbund was slipping and his bow tie was loose.

Pauline’s bodyguards came closer.

Pauline had learned early in her career to remain cool during embarrassing encounters. ‘Good evening, Milt,’ she said. She recalled that he had been made a director of a lobbying firm, and she said: ‘Congratulations on your appointment to the board of Riley Hobcraft Partners.’

‘Thank you, Madam President. You did your best to ruin my life, but you didn’t quite succeed.’

Pauline was startled by the intensity of his hatred. ‘Ruin your life?’ she said with what she hoped was a friendly smile. ‘Better people than you and me have been fired and got over it.’

He lowered his voice. ‘She left me,’ he said.

Pauline could not feel sorry for him. ‘It’s for the best,’ she said. ‘Best for her and best for you.’

‘You know nothing about it,’ he hissed.

Gus stepped in and put a protective arm between Pauline and Milt. ‘Here’s his excellency Prince Faisal,’ he said, and with a light touch he turned her around so that her back was to Milt. She heard one of her bodyguards distracting Milt by saying pleasantly: ‘Good to see you again, Mr Vice-President, I hope you’re well.’

Pauline smiled at Faisal, a middle-aged man with a grey beard and a wary expression. ‘Good evening, Prince Faisal,’ she said. ‘I talked to the president of Egypt, but he wouldn’t make any promises.’

‘That’s what they said to us. Our foreign minister likes the idea of a demilitarized zone between Chad and Sudan, and he immediately called Cairo. But the Egyptians only said they would think about it.’

Pauline had the French note in her hand. ‘Look at this,’ she said.

Faisal read it quickly. ‘This might make a difference,’ he said.

Her spirits rose again. ‘Why don’t you show it to your friend the Egyptian ambassador?’

‘That’s just what I was thinking.’

‘Please do.’

Gus touched her arm and eased her towards the podium. It was almost time for her speech. One television crew had been allowed in to film her speaking. A script about literacy would be displayed for her on screens that could not be seen by the audience. However, she was thinking of diverting from the script, or at least adding to it, with a few remarks about Chad. She just wished she had some concrete good news to report, instead of mere hopes.

She had brief exchanges with people as the Secret Service men made a way for her through the crowd. Just before she reached the short flight of steps, James Moore greeted her.

She spoke politely but kept her face expressionless. ‘Good evening, James, and thank you for the interest you’re taking in Chad.’ She felt she was close to the line where courtesy turned into hypocrisy.

Moore said: ‘It’s a dangerous situation.’

‘Of course, and the last thing we want to do is get American troops involved.’

‘Then you should bring them home.’

Pauline smiled thinly. ‘I think we can do better than that.’

Moore was puzzled. ‘Better?’

He did not have the brains to entertain several options and weigh their pros and cons. All he could do was think of something aggressive and then say it.

But Pauline did not have an alternative to his proposal, she only had the hope of one. ‘You’ll see,’ she said with more confidence than she felt; and she moved on.

As she reached the steps she met Lateef Salah, the Egyptian ambassador, a small man with bright eyes and a black moustache. He was not much taller than Pauline. In his tuxedo he made her think of a chirpy blackbird. She liked his energy. ‘Faisal showed me the French announcement,’ he said without preamble. ‘This is an important step.’

‘I agree,’ Pauline said.