Page 209 of Never

She began to see where this might be going, and she felt both thrilled and apprehensive.

Gus closed his eyes, getting control, then opened them and said: ‘I fell in love with Tamira when I was twenty.’

Tamira was his ex-wife. Pauline pictured her: a tall black woman in her late forties, confident, well dressed. Once a champion sprinter, she was now a successful manager of sports stars. She was beautiful and smart and completely uninterested in politics.

Gus said: ‘We were together a long time, but we slowly grew apart. I’ve been single for ten years now.’ There was a note of regret, and it told Pauline that the life of a bachelor had never been Gus’s ideal. ‘I haven’t been living like a monk – I’ve dated. I’ve met one or two terrific women.’ Pauline did not detect any trace of boasting. He was just stating the facts. In the interests of full disclosure, she thought, and she was briefly amused at her own legalese. He went on: ‘Younger, older, in politics, out of it. Smart, sexy women. But I didn’t fall in love. Not even close. Until I got to know you.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘That I’ve waited ten years for you.’ He smiled. ‘And if I have to, I can wait another five.’

Pauline felt overcome with emotion. Her throat seemed to constrict and she could not speak. Tears came to her eyes. She wanted to throw her arms around him and put her head on his chest and cry into his chalk-striped suit. But her Secretary of State, Chester Jackson, came in, and she had to pull herself together in a second.

She opened a desk drawer, pulled out a handful of tissues, and blew her nose, turning away. She looked out of the window and across the South Lawn to the National Mall, where thousands of elm and cherry trees blazed their fall colours, every glorious shade of red, orange and yellow, reminding her that although winter was coming there was still time for joy.

‘I hope I’m not getting an autumn cold,’ she said, surreptitiously blotting stray tears. Then she sat down and faced the room, embarrassed but happy, and said: ‘Let’s get down to business.’

***

That evening, at the end of dinner, Pippa said: ‘Mom, could I ask you a question?’

‘Sure, honey.’

‘Would you fire nuclear weapons?’

Pauline was taken by surprise, but she had no hesitation. ‘Yes, of course. How did this come up?’

‘We were talking about it at school, and Cindy Riley said: “Your mom is the one who will push the button.” But would you?’

‘I would. You can’t be president if you’re not willing to do that. It’s part of the job.’

Pippa turned in her seat to face Pauline. ‘But you’ve seen those pictures of Hiroshima, you must have.’

Pauline had work to do, as she did every evening, but this was an important conversation, and she was not going to rush it. Pippa was troubled. Pauline thought nostalgically of the time when Pippa had asked easy questions, such as where does the moon go when we can’t see it? She said: ‘Yes, I’ve studied those photographs.’

‘It’s, like, flattened – by one bomb!’

‘Yes.’

‘And all those people killed – eighty thousand!’

‘I know.’

‘And the survivors had it even worse – awful burns, then the radiation sickness.’

‘The most important part of my job is to make sure it never happens again.’

‘But you say you would fire nuclear weapons!’

‘Look. Since 1945, the US has been involved in numerous wars, big and small, some involving another nuclear-armed country – but nuclear weapons have never been used again.’

‘Doesn’t that prove we don’t need them?’

‘No, it proves that deterrence works. Other nations are afraid to attack the US with nuclear weapons because they know we will retaliate and they can’t win.’

Pippa was getting upset. Her voice rose in pitch. She said: ‘But if that happens, and you press the button, we’ll all be killed!’

‘Not all of us, not necessarily.’ Pauline knew this was the weak part of her argument.