Home > Books > Never(199)

Never(199)

Author:Ken Follett

Pauline looked at Gus, who said: ‘I agree with Luis.’

‘So do I,’ she said. ‘Are we planning to retaliate with our own cyberattack, Luis?’

‘The local commander is mulling it, and I haven’t forced the issue,’ Luis said. ‘We have massive cyberwar resources, but he’s reluctant to show his hand.’

Gus put in: ‘When we deploy our cyber weapons, we want it to be a terrific shock to the enemy, something for which they haven’t adequately prepared.’

‘I get that,’ said Pauline. ‘But the government in Seoul may not be so restrained.’

Luis said: ‘Yes. In fact, I suspect they may have hit back already. Why did that North Korean submarine approach the naval base at Jeju? Perhaps its systems were down and it had lost navigation.’

Pauline said sadly: ‘All those men dead for no damn reason.’ She looked up. ‘All right, Luis, thank you.’

‘Thank you, Madam President.’ Luis left.

Gus said: ‘Do you want to talk to Chester before he calls Beijing and Seoul?’

‘Yes. Thank you for reminding me.’

‘I’ll bring him in.’

Pauline watched Gus as he talked on the phone. She was thinking about what had happened when Gerry and Pippa were away. Gerry had gone to bed with Amelia Judd and Pauline had nearly thought about going to bed with Gus. Her marriage could be rescued, she knew, and she would try to make that happen – she had to, for Pippa’s sake – but in her heart she wanted something else.

Gus hung up and said: ‘Chess is across the street in the Eisenhower Building. He’ll be here in five minutes.’

The White House was like this. Work was intense for hours, and while that was happening her concentration was unshakeable; then suddenly there was a pause, and the rest of her life came flooding back in.

Gus said quietly: ‘In five years, you’ll be out of this office.’

‘Maybe in a year,’ she said.

‘But more likely five.’

She studied his face and saw a strong man struggling to express deep emotion. She wondered what was coming. She felt shaky. That surprised her: she never felt shaky.

He said: ‘Pippa will be at college in five years.’

She nodded. She thought: What am I scared of?

He said: ‘You’ll be free.’

She said: ‘Free . . .’

She began to see where this might be going, and she felt both thrilled and apprehensive.

Gus closed his eyes, getting control, then opened them and said: ‘I fell in love with Tamira when I was twenty.’

Tamira was his ex-wife. Pauline pictured her: a tall black woman in her late forties, confident, well dressed. Once a champion sprinter, she was now a successful manager of sports stars. She was beautiful and smart and completely uninterested in politics.

Gus said: ‘We were together a long time, but we slowly grew apart. I’ve been single for ten years now.’ There was a note of regret, and it told Pauline that the life of a bachelor had never been Gus’s ideal. ‘I haven’t been living like a monk – I’ve dated. I’ve met one or two terrific women.’ Pauline did not detect any trace of boasting. He was just stating the facts. In the interests of full disclosure, she thought, and she was briefly amused at her own legalese. He went on: ‘Younger, older, in politics, out of it. Smart, sexy women. But I didn’t fall in love. Not even close. Until I got to know you.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘That I’ve waited ten years for you.’ He smiled. ‘And if I have to, I can wait another five.’

Pauline felt overcome with emotion. Her throat seemed to constrict and she could not speak. Tears came to her eyes. She wanted to throw her arms around him and put her head on his chest and cry into his chalk-striped suit. But her Secretary of State, Chester Jackson, came in, and she had to pull herself together in a second.

She opened a desk drawer, pulled out a handful of tissues, and blew her nose, turning away. She looked out of the window and across the South Lawn to the National Mall, where thousands of elm and cherry trees blazed their fall colours, every glorious shade of red, orange and yellow, reminding her that although winter was coming there was still time for joy.

‘I hope I’m not getting an autumn cold,’ she said, surreptitiously blotting stray tears. Then she sat down and faced the room, embarrassed but happy, and said: ‘Let’s get down to business.’

*

That evening, at the end of dinner, Pippa said: ‘Mom, could I ask you a question?’