A Spy by Nature - Charles Cumming [28]
This annoys me.
‘Well if that’s what they’re teaching you on your European Affairs course at Warwick, I’m not signing up.’
Elaine, Pyman and Rouse all emit snorty laughs. I’m winning this, I’m coming through. The Hobbit’s cheeks rouge nicely. He can’t think of a comeback, so I carry on.
‘This notion of the Germans as the European master race is contrived. Their economy will slow in the next few years, unemployment is chronic since unification and Kohl’s days are numbered.’
I read this in The Economist.
‘Let’s not get off the point.’ Ogilvy wants back in. ‘Let’s talk about how to get the Spaniards and the Danes on board.’
Suddenly Ann sneezes, a great lashing a-choo which she only half covers with her hand. In stereo, Ogilvy and I say ‘Bless you’, to which he adds: ‘Are you OK?’ Ann, not one to be patronized, lets her guard drop and says ‘Yeah’ with sullen indifference. Her voice, with its sour accent, sounds impatient and spoiled, and in that brief moment we can all see her for what she really is: a tough-nut of steely ambition, looking for a one-way ticket to London and a better life. In the wake of it Ogilvy glides away, talking with great efficiency about how to get the Spaniards and Danes ‘on board’. As time ticks away, the stopwatch edging towards our thirty-minute limit, he is left more or less on his own, with occasional interjections from the Hobbit, whose knowledge of European Union by-laws is as extensive as it is tedious. He must be the star pupil at Warwick. Ann, for the most part, turns in on herself and merely disagrees for the sake of disagreeing. Elaine barely speaks. From my own point of view, I feel that I have done enough to please the examiners, both by what I have said and by my personal conduct, which has been forthright but respectful of the other candidates. I also feel that Ogilvy and the Hobbit are flogging a dead horse. Most of the points that were there to be made have been made saliently some time ago. Nevertheless, it will look good if I try to wrap things up.
‘If I could just interrupt you there, Sam, because we’re running out of time and I think we should try to reach some sort of conclusion.’
‘Absolutely.’
He gives me the floor. Don’t fuck it up.
‘I think we’ve covered most of the angles on this problem. Judging from the last ten minutes or so, we’re mostly agreed on a course of action.’
‘Which is?’ says Ann, coldly.
‘That we need to - as you pointed out right at the start - present a united front to the Americans. We must conduct conclusive tests on the French plant. If needs be, we should bargain with the Germans to get them on our side.’
‘We never said how we were going to do that.’ The manner in which Elaine says this, with just under a minute to go, implies that this is largely my responsibility.
‘No, we didn’t. But that’s not something that should worry us. I think the Germans would be unlikely to do anything that would undermine the EU.’
‘And what do we do about the American export ban?’ the Hobbit asks, looking in my direction as he tips forward on his chair. It was a mistake to take this on.
‘Well, there’s very little we can do…’
‘I don’t agree,’ says Ann, cutting me off short so that my incomplete sentence sounds weak and defeatist.
‘Me too,’ says Ogilvy, but he too is interrupted.
‘I’m afraid that your thirty minutes is up.’
Rouse has tapped his pen twice - tap tap - on the hard surface of the examiners’ table. We all turn to face him.
‘Thank you all very much. If you’d like to gather up your things and make your way back to the common room where Mr Heywood is waiting for you.’
I think we all share a sense of disappointment at not managing to conclude the discussion within the allocated time: it will reflect badly on the five of us, although I may score points for trying to tidy things up towards the end. Ogilvy is first up and out of the room, followed by the rest of us in a tight group, waddling out like tired ducks. Elaine is the last to leave, closing the door behind her. She does this with