Anyway, she did not want to get into a discussion with the press corps about whether a woman could be a war leader. That would allow Moore to define the terms of the argument. She needed to bring it back to her own territory.
She thought for a long moment. An idea came to her, but it was a little off the wall. However, she decided to go with it. She leaned forward and spoke in a more informal voice. ‘Have you folks noticed,’ she said, ‘that James Moore never does this?’ With a broad sweep of her hand she indicated the correspondents massed in the room. ‘Here I have the networks and the cable channels, the broadsheets and the toxic tabloids, the liberal and the conservative media.’
She paused and pointed at the questioner. ‘Right now I’m responding to a question from Ricky, whose paper has never had a good word to say about me. What a contrast with Mr Moore! Do you know when he last gave an in-depth interview on network television? The answer is never. He has never facilitated a profile of himself in the Wall Street Journal or the New York Times or any of the mainstream newspapers, to the best of my knowledge. He takes questions only from his friends and supporters. Ask yourself why that is.’
She paused again. She had thought of a zinger to finish with. Did she want to be aggressive? Yes, she decided. She resumed before anyone could interrupt. ‘I’ll tell you what I think. James Moore is scared. He’s frightened that he won’t be able to defend his policies against a serious interrogator. And that brings me right back to your question, Ricky.’ Here comes the zinger, she thought. ‘When the chips are down, do you want America to be led by Timid Jim?’
She paused again, briefly, then said: ‘Thank you, everyone.’ And she left the room.
*
Pauline had dinner with Gerry and Pippa in the Residence that Sunday evening, looking out at the street lights of Washington, while people in Beijing and Pyongyang were getting up in the dark on a winter Monday morning.
The Residence cook had made curried beef, Pippa’s new favourite dish. Pauline ate the rice and the salad. Food did not excite her, nor did booze. Whatever was put in front of her, she would eat or drink a little.
She asked Pippa: ‘How are you getting on with Ms Judd now?’
‘Old Judders is off my case, thank God,’ Pippa said.
If Pippa was no longer attracting the attention of the school principal, it probably meant that her behaviour had got better. It was the same at home: there had been no more rows. Pauline thought the improvement might be due to the threat of home schooling. Regardless of how much Pippa rebelled, school was the centre of her social life. Pauline’s talk of a tutor had served as a reality check.
Gerry said irritably: ‘Amelia Judd is not old and she doesn’t judder. She’s forty, and an extremely competent and capable woman.’
Pauline looked at him in mild surprise. He did not often reprimand Pippa, and this was an odd issue to choose. The thought crossed her mind that Gerry might have developed a little crush on ‘Amelia’。 Perhaps it was not surprising. The head teacher was an authoritative woman in a leadership role, like Pauline but ten years younger. A more recent edition of the same book, Pauline thought cynically.
Pippa said to her father: ‘You wouldn’t like Judders so much if it was you she was trying to push around.’
There was a tap at the door and Sandip came in. It was unusual for staffers to disturb family meals at the Residence; in fact, it was forbidden except in an emergency. Pauline said: ‘What’s up?’
‘I’m very sorry to interrupt, Madam President, but two things have happened in the last few minutes. CBS has announced a long interview with James Moore, live at seven thirty.’
Pauline looked at her watch. It was a few minutes after seven.
Sandip said: ‘He’s never done an interview with network television.’
‘As I pointed out this morning,’ Pauline said.
‘It’s a scoop for CBS, which is why they’re rushing it.’
‘Do you think he was stung by my calling him Timid Jim?’
‘I’m sure of it. A lot of the broadcasters used those words in their reports of the press conference. That was very clever of you. It’s forced Moore to try to prove you wrong, and for that he has to stick his neck out.’
‘Good.’
‘He’ll probably make a fool of himself on CBS. All they have to do is put up an interviewer with a brain.’
Pauline was not so sure. ‘He may surprise us. He’s slippery. Pinning him down is like trying to pick up a live fish with one hand.’