Some people could not tear themselves away from the TV. Others were partying like it was the end of the world. Tamara and Tab were partying.
Against all the odds they had managed to get married within hours of making the decision and had also organized a wedding party.
Tamara had wanted the humanist woman who had officiated at the marriage of Drew Sandberg, the embassy press officer, to Annette Cecil of MI6. She had called Annette and asked for the woman’s number.
‘Tamara!’ Annette had screeched. ‘You’re getting married! Darling, how marvellous!’
‘Calm down, calm down.’
‘Who is he? I didn’t even know you were dating.’
‘Don’t get excited, it’s not for me, it’s for a friend.’
Annette did not believe her. ‘You secretive cow. I’m desperate to know.’
‘Please, Annette, just give me the contact details.’
Annette yielded and produced the information.
The humanist celebrant was called Claire and she was free this evening.
‘It’s on,’ Tamara had said to Tab, and she had kissed him exuberantly. ‘Now, where shall we hold the ceremony and the party?’
‘The Lamy Hotel has a lovely private room that looks out onto the gardens. It holds about a hundred people. We could do the ceremony and the party in the same place.’
They spent the day organizing everything. The Oasis Room at the Lamy was available. The hotel had large stocks of Travers vintage champagne. Tab booked it.
‘Are we going to have dancing?’ he said.
‘Oh, yes. I fell in love with you when I saw how badly you dance.’
The Malian jazz band Desert Funk were free, and Tamara booked them.
They sent the invitations by email.
Late that afternoon Tamara stood at the open door of Tab’s closet, looking at his suits, and said: ‘What shall we wear?’
‘We must dress up,’ he said immediately. ‘Everyone must know this isn’t, like, a Las Vegas wedding, even though it’s been organized at the last minute. It’s a real marriage, for life.’
After that she had to kiss him again. Then she returned to the closet. ‘Tuxedo?’
‘Nice idea.’
She noticed a plastic suit cover bearing the words Teinturerie de l’Opéra. It came from a dry cleaner presumably situated near the Place de l’Opéra in Paris. ‘What’s in here?’
‘White tie and tails. I’ve never worn that outfit in Chad. That’s why it’s still in the cleaner’s bag.’
She took the suit out. ‘Oh, Tab, you’ll look gorgeous in this.’
‘I have been told it flatters me. But then you’ll have to wear a ball gown.’
‘That’s all right. I have the perfect dress. You’ll get a hard-on just looking.’
At eight o’clock that evening the Oasis Room was packed with about double the number of guests they had invited. No one was turned away.
Tamara wore an ice-pink dress with an eye-popping neckline.
In front of all their friends they vowed to be companions, allies and lovers for the rest of their lives, however short or long. Claire pronounced them husband and wife, a waiter popped a champagne cork, and everyone clapped.
Desert Funk started to play a smooth blues. The waiters removed the covers from the buffet and poured the champagne. Tamara and Tab got the first two glasses and each took a sip.
Tab said: ‘You’re stuck with me now. How does it feel?’
Tamara said: ‘I never imagined I could be this happy.’
*
Pippa said: ‘Mom, you told me you had three conditions for using nuclear weapons.’
Pauline found Pippa’s questions helpful. They made her focus on the basics. ‘I remember, of course.’
‘Tell me again what they are.’
‘First, we’ve tried all peaceful means of solving the problem – but they have failed.’
‘And you seem to have done that now.’
Had she? She thought hard. ‘Yes, we have.’
‘And second?’
‘We can’t solve the problem with conventional, non-nuclear weapons.’
‘Was that true in North Korea?’
‘I believe it was.’ Again Pauline paused and reconsidered, but she came to the same conclusion. ‘After the rebels devastated two cities with nuclear bombs, we had to be sure of completely closing down the rebels’ firepower, so that they couldn’t ever do it again. No amount of conventional weaponry could have guaranteed that.’
‘I guess not.’
‘And third, Americans are being killed or are about to be killed by enemy action.’
‘And Americans were being killed in South Korea.’
‘Correct.’
‘Will you do it again? Launch more nuclear missiles?’
‘If I have to, honey; if Americans are killed or threatened, yes.’
‘But you’ll try not to.’
‘With all my strength.’ Pauline looked at her watch. ‘Which is what I’m going to do now. We have a meeting scheduled, and they’re just waking up in Beijing.’
‘Good luck, Mommy.’
Heading for the Situation Room, Pauline passed a door marked National Security Advisor, and on impulse she knocked.
She heard Gus’s voice. ‘Yeah?’
‘It’s me, are you ready?’
He opened the door. ‘I’m putting my tie on. Would you like to step inside for a moment?’
While she watched him knotting a sombre dark-grey necktie she said: ‘Whatever the Chinese are going to do, they’ll do it in the next twelve hours, I think. If they leave it to another day, it will seem like an afterthought.’
Gus nodded. ‘So much of this is about looking strong, to your allies as well as to your enemies.’
‘And that’s not just a matter of vanity. If you look strong, you’re less likely to be attacked, in international affairs as in the school playground.’
He turned to her. ‘My tie okay?’
She adjusted it, though no adjustment was necessary. She smelled woodsmoke and lavender. With her hands on his chest she looked up at him. Something she was not planning to say came out of her mouth unbidden. ‘We can’t wait five years.’
She surprised herself. But it was the truth.
‘I know,’ he said.
‘We may not have five years.’
‘We may not have five days.’
She took a deep breath, thought hard, and at last said: ‘If we live to the end of this day, Gus, shall we spend the night together?’
‘God, yes.’
‘Are you sure you want to?’
‘With all my heart.’
‘Touch my face.’
He put his hand on her cheek. She turned her head and kissed his palm. Desire swelled inside her. She felt she might lose control. She did not want to wait even until tonight.
The room phone rang.
She stepped back guiltily, as if the caller might be able to see into the room.
Gus turned and picked up the handset. After a moment he said: ‘Okay,’ and hung up. Then he said: ‘President Chen is calling you.’
The mood changed in an instant.
‘He’s up early,’ Pauline said. It was 5 a.m. in Beijing. ‘I’ll take the call in the Situation Room so everyone can hear.’
They left the room together.
She put her feelings for Gus aside and focussed her mind on what was ahead of her. She had to forget about everyday life now. She was the mother of a teenager, the wife of an unfaithful husband, and a woman in love with a colleague, and she had to leave those relationships behind and be the leader of the free world. And yet she had to remember that if she made the wrong decision, the consequences would be suffered by Pippa, Gerry and Gus.
She straightened her back and walked into the Situation Room.
The screens around the walls showed all the available sources of information: satellite, infra-red, and the TV news in the US, Beijing and Seoul. Her most important colleagues and advisors were at the table. It was not so long ago that she had liked to begin Cabinet meetings with a joke. Not anymore.
She sat down. ‘Put him on the speaker.’ She made her voice friendly. ‘Good morning, President Chen. This is very early for you.’
His face appeared on screens around the room. He was wearing his usual dark-blue suit. ‘Good morning,’ he said.
Nothing else. No polite preliminaries, no chit-chat. His tone was cold. Pauline guessed he had people in the room with him, monitoring every word.