Page 62 of Never

Tamara managed to put together a coherent sentence. ‘If it was true I wouldn’t tell you, because then I’d have to ask you to keep it secret from Nick and Dexter, and that wouldn’t be fair to you.’

Shirley nodded. ‘I get that. Thank you.’ She saw something across the room. ‘I’m being summoned,’ she said. Tamara followed her gaze and saw Nick beckoning her from the entrance. Standing near him were two men in dark suits and sunglasses. They were plainly bodyguards, but whose?

Tamara followed Shirley across the room.

Nick talked urgently to an aide. As soon as Shirley reached him, he took her hand and moved to the door.

A moment later the General walked in.

Tamara had never seen Chad’s president in the flesh, but she recognized him from photographs. He was a broad-shouldered man of about sixty with a shaven head and dark skin. He wore a Western-style business suit and several chunky gold rings. A group of men and women followed him in.

He was in an affable mood, smiling. He shook hands with Nick, refused a glass of champagne offered by a waiter, and handed a small gift-wrapped parcel to Shirley. Then he began to sing, in English: ‘Happy birthday to you…’

His entourage joined in with the second line: ‘Happy birthday to you…’

He looked around expectantly, and more people took the hint, singing: ‘Happy birthday dear Shirley…’ The band found the key and joined in.

By the end everyone in the ballroom was singing: ‘Happy birthday to you!’ Then they applauded themselves.

Well, Tamara thought, he certainly knows how to dominate a room.

Shirley said: ‘May I unwrap my gift?’

‘Of course, go ahead!’ said the General. ‘I want to make sure it pleases you.’

As if she’d tell him otherwise, Tamara thought.

She caught the eye of Karim, who was giving her a knowing look, and she realized what the gift was.

Shirley held up a book. ‘This is wonderful!’ she said. ‘The works of al-Khansa – my favourite Arabic poet – translated into English! Thank you, Mr President.’

‘I know you’re interested in poetry,’ said the General. ‘And al-Khansa is one of the few female poets.’

‘This was such a clever choice.’

The General was gratified. ‘Mind you, she’s a bit gloomy,’ he said. ‘The poems are mostly elegies to the dead.’

‘Some of the greatest poetry is sad, though, isn’t it, Mr President?’

‘True.’ He took Nick by the arm and turned him away from the group. ‘A quiet word, if I may, ambassador,’ he said.

‘Of course,’ said Nick, and they began to speak in low voices.

Shirley took the hint and turned to those around her, showing everyone the book. Tamara did not reveal her role in the choice of present. She would tell Shirley one day, perhaps.

The General talked to Nick for about five minutes then left. The party became even livelier. Everyone was thrilled that the country’s president had shown up.

Nick looked a bit solemn, Tamara thought, and she wondered what the General had said to him.

Bumping into Drew, she told him about her conversation with Bashir. ‘I didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know,’ she said. ‘Of course, he could make something up, but that’s an inevitable consequence of having embassy parties.’

Drew said: ‘Thanks for letting me know. I don’t think we need to worry.’

Drew’s fiancée, Annette Cecil, was by his side. She was part of the small British mission in N’Djamena. She said: ‘We’re going to the Bar Bisous afterwards. Do you want to come?’

‘Maybe, if I can get away. Thanks.’

Tamara caught Shirley’s eye and saw that she looked downcast. What could have happened to spoil her birthday party? She went over to Shirley and said: ‘What is it?’