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Kong said: ‘We have to, otherwise we lose all control!’

Kai said: ‘My suggestion is simple. Refuse help now, to punish Pyongyang; but send aid in six weeks, just in time to prevent the collapse of the government.’

There was a moment of silence as they took this in.

Kong spoke first. ‘That’s an improvement on my proposal,’ he said generously.

‘It might be,’ said General Huang reluctantly. ‘The situation would have to be closely monitored, day by day, so that if the crisis is worse than expected, we can bring forward the dispatch of aid.’

Hu said: ‘Yes, that would be essential, thank you, general.’

Kai saw that his plan was going to be accepted. It was the right solution. He was on a roll.

Hu looked around the table. ‘If everyone is in agreement…?’

No one demurred.

‘Then we will propose this to President Chen.’

CHAPTER 12

Tamara and Tab were both invited to the wedding, but separately: their relationship was still secret. They arrived in different cars. Drew Sandberg, head of the press office at the American embassy, was marrying Annette Cecil from the British mission.

The marriage took place at the palatial home of a British oil man who was a relative of Annette’s, and the guests crowded into a large air-conditioned room with awnings shading the windows.

It was a humanist ceremony. Tamara was intrigued: she had never been to such a wedding before. The celebrant, a pleasant middle-aged woman called Claire, spoke briefly and sensibly about the joys and challenges of marriage. Annette and Drew had written their own vows, and said them with such feeling that Tamara teared up. They played one of her favourite old songs, ‘Happy’ by Pharrell Williams. She thought: If I ever get married again, I want it to be like this.

Four weeks ago she would not have had that thought.

She glanced discreetly across the room at Tab. Did he like the ceremony? Did the vows touch his emotions? Was he thinking about his own wedding? She could not tell.

The oil man had offered his house for the party, as well as the ceremony, but Annette had said that her friends were rowdy and might wreck the place. After the service, the bride and groom went to register their marriage and the guests were directed to a large local restaurant that had closed to the public for the day.

The place was owned by Christian Chadians who made North African food and had no problem serving alcohol. There was a big dining room fragrant with spicy cooking, plus a shaded courtyard where a fountain played. The buffet was mouth-watering: crisp golden sweet-potato fritters garnished with fragrant cut limes; a goat stew with okra that had the kick of chillies; fried millet doughballs called aiyishawith a peanut sauce dip; and more. Tamara particularly liked a brown-rice salad made with cucumber and banana slices in a spicy honey dressing. There was Moroccan wine and Gala beer.

The guests were mostly younger members of the N’Djamena diplomatic circuit. Tamara talked for a while to Nick Collinsworth’s secretary, Layan, a tall, elegant Chadian woman who had studied in Paris, as Tamara had. Layan had a somewhat aloof manner, but Tamara liked her. They talked about the wedding ceremony, which they had both enjoyed.

At the same time Tamara was constantly aware of Tab, and had to make an effort not to follow him around the room with her eyes, though she always knew where he was. She had not yet spoken to him. Every now and again she met his glance and looked away without acknowledging him. She felt as if she was walking around in a space suit, unable to touch or speak to him.

Annette and Drew reappeared dressed in party gear and looking deliriously happy. Tamara stared, envying them.

A band started playing and the party began to swing. Tamara at last allowed herself to talk to Tab. ‘Boy, oh boy, this is difficult,’ she said quietly. ‘Pretending we’re still no more than colleagues.’

He had a bottle of beer in his hand, to look convivial, but he had drunk hardly any. ‘For me, too.’

‘I’m glad you’re suffering as well.’

He laughed. ‘Just look at those two,’ he said, nodding at the bridal couple. ‘Drew can’t keep his hands off Annette. I know just how he feels.’

Most of the guests were dancing to the band. ‘Let’s step into the courtyard,’ said Tamara. ‘Not quite so many people.’

They went out and stood looking at the fountain. There were half a dozen other people out there, and Tamara wished they would go away.

Tab said: ‘We need more time together. We always meet and part, meet and part. I want us to be more intimate.’

‘More intimate?’ she said with a grin. ‘Is there any part of me you don’t know as well as you know your own body?’

His brown eyes looked at her in a way that always gave her a little internal twinge. ‘That wasn’t what I meant.’