A Spy by Nature - Charles Cumming [4]
‘You remember Michael, who came to dinner?’
‘Yes,’ I said, stubbing out a cigarette.
‘He likes you. Thinks you should try out for the Foreign Office.’
‘He does?’
‘What an opportunity, Alec. To serve Queen and Country.’
I nearly laughed at this, but checked it out of respect for her old-fashioned convictions. Instead, I said:
‘Mum, an ambassador is an honest man sent abroad to lie for the good of his country.’
And she sounded impressed.
‘Who said that?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Anyway, Michael says to give him a ring if you’re interested. I’ve got the number. Fetch a pen.’
I had tried to stop her. I didn’t like the idea of her putting shape on my life. But she was insistent.
‘Not everyone gets a chance like this. You’re twenty-four now. You’ve only got that small amount of money your father left you in his Paris account. It’s time you started thinking about a career and stopped working for that crooked Pole.’
I argued with her a little more, just enough to convince myself that if I went ahead it would be of my own volition, and not because of some parental arrangement. Then, two days later, I rang Hawkes.
It was shortly after nine o’clock in the morning. He answered after one ring, the voice crisp and alert.
‘Michael. It’s Alec Milius.’
‘Hello.’
‘About the conversation you had with my mother.’
‘Yes.’
‘In Waitrose.’
‘You want to go ahead?’
‘If that’s possible. Yes.’
His manner was strangely abrupt. No friendly chat, no excess fat.
‘I’ll talk to one of my colleagues. They’ll be in touch.’
‘Good. Thanks.’
‘Goodbye.’
Three days later a letter arrived in a plain white envelope marked PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL.
Foreign and Commonwealth Office
No. 46A––Terrace
London SW1
PERSONAL AND CONFIDENTIAL
Dear Mr Milius,
It has been suggested to me that you might be interested to have a discussion with us about fast stream appointments in government service in the field of foreign affairs which occasionally arise in addition to those covered by the Open Competition to the Diplomatic Service. This office has a responsibility for recruitment to such appointments.
If you would like to take this possibility further, I should be grateful if you would please complete the enclosed form and return it to me. Provided that there is an appointment for which you appear potentially suitable, I shall then invite you to an exploratory conversation at this office. Your travel expenses will be refunded at the rate of a standard return rail fare plus Tube fares.
I should stress that your acceptance of this invitation will not commit you in any way, nor will it affect your candidature for any government appointments for which you may apply or have applied.
As this letter is personal to you, I should be grateful if you could respect its confidentiality.
Yours sincerely,
Philip Lucas
Recruitment Liaison Office
Enclosed was a standard issue, four-page application form: name and address, education, brief employment history, etc. I completed it within twenty-four hours - replete with lies - and sent it back to Lucas. He replied by return of post, inviting me here today.
I have spoken to Hawkes only once in the intervening period.
Yesterday afternoon, with less than twenty-four hours to go before my appointment, I was becoming edgy about what the interview would entail. I wanted to find out what to expect, what to prepare, what to say. So I queued outside an Edgware Road phone box for ten minutes, far enough away from the CEBDO office not to risk being seen by Nik. None of them know that I am here today.
Hawkes answered on the first ring. Again his manner was curt and to the point. Acting as if people were listening in on the line.
‘I feel as if I’m going into this thing with my trousers down,’ I told him. ‘I know nothing about what’s going on.’
He sniffed what may have been a laugh and replied:
‘Don’t worry about it. Everything will become clear when you get there.’
‘So there’s nothing you can tell me? Nothing I need to prepare for?’
‘Nothing