A Spy by Nature - Charles Cumming [15]
‘At the LSE I always wanted to be one of those guys selling the Living Marxist. Imagine having that much faith.’
‘It’s a little passe,’ Saul says. ‘And cold during the winter months.’
I pour the last dregs of my beer into a glass and take a swig that is sour and dry. On the muted television screen the Nine O’Clock News is beginning and we both look up to see the headlines. Saul turns up the volume as Norman Tebbit appears, addressing a Eurosceptic rally full of blue-rinse Tories.
‘Why must we endure Norman Tebbit?’ he says. His voice is much deeper than his face would suggest. ‘Christ, I hate these out-of-work Tory grandees with nothing better to do than drum up petty nationalism.’
He switches it off.
‘Game of chess?’
‘Sure.’
We play the opening moves swiftly, the thunk of the pieces falling regularly on the strong wooden surface. I love that sound. There are no early captures, no immediate attacks. We exchange bishops, castle king-side, push pawns. Neither one of us is prepared to do anything risky. Saul keeps up an impression of easy joviality, making gags and farting away the stir-fry, but I know that, like me, he is concealing a deep desire to win.
After twenty-odd moves the game is choking up. If Saul wants it, there’s the possibility of a three-piece swap in the centre of the board that will reap two pawns and a knight each. But it isn’t clear who will be left with the advantage if the exchange takes place. Saul ponders things, staring intently at the board, occasionally taking a gulp of wine. To hurry him along I say: ‘Is it my go?’ and he says: ‘No. Me. Sorry, taking a long time.’ Then he thinks for another three or four minutes. My guess is he’ll shift his rook into the centre of the back rank, freeing it to move down the middle.
‘I’m going for a piss.’
‘Make your move first.’
‘I’ll do it when I come back,’ he sighs, standing up and making his way down the hall.
What I do next is achieved almost without thinking. I listen for the sound of the bathroom door closing, then quickly advance the pawn on my f-file a single space. I retract my right hand and study the difference in the shape of the game. The pawn is protected there by a knight and another pawn, and it will, in three or four moves’ time, provide a two-pronged defence when I slide in to attack Saul’s king. It’s a simple, minute adjustment to the game which should go unnoticed in the thick gathering of pieces fighting for control of the centre.
When he returns from the bathroom, Saul’s eyes seem to fix immediately on the cheating pawn. He may have spotted it. His forehead wrinkles and he chews the knuckle on his index finger, trying to establish what has changed. But he says nothing. Within a few moments he has made his move - the rook to the centre of the back rank - and sat back deep into the sofa. Play continues nervously. I develop king-side, looking to use the advanced pawn as cover for an attack. Then Saul, as frustrated as I am, offers a queen swap after half an hour of play. I accept, and from there it’s a formality. With the pawn in such an advanced position, my formation is marginally stronger: it’s just a matter of wearing him down. Saul parries a couple of attacks, but sheer weight of numbers begins to tell. He resigns at twenty to eleven.
‘Nice going,’ he says, offering me a sweaty palm.
We always shake hands afterwards.
At one a.m., drunk and tired, I sit slumped on the back seat of an unlicensed minicab, going home to Shepherd’s Bush.
There is a plain white envelope on my doormat, second post, marked PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL.
Foreign and Commonwealth Office
No. 46A–-Terrace
London SW1
PERSONAL AND CONFIDENTIAL
Dear Mr Milius,
Following your recent conversation with my colleague, Philip Lucas, I should like to invite you to attend a second interview on Tuesday, July 25th at 10 o’clock.
Please let me know if this date will be convenient for you.
Yours sincerely,
Patrick Liddiard
Recruitment Liaison Office
4
Positive Vetting
The second interview