This Was A Man (50 page)

‘Berlin.’

‘Berlin?’ repeated Giles, sitting down beside her on the bed.

‘Yes,’ said Karin, sounding serious. ‘I have a feeling it won’t be long before that barbaric wall finally comes down. Thousands of my countrymen and women are standing on
the Western side in silent protest every day, and I’d like to go and join them.’

‘And so you shall,’ said Giles, placing an arm around her shoulder. ‘I’ll give Walter Scheel a call as soon as I get to the office. If anyone knows what’s happening
behind the scenes, it will be him.’

‘I wonder where Emma will be going on holiday this year?’ said Karin as she returned to the bathroom.

Giles waited for the door to shut before he said quietly, ‘The island of St Helena, if I have anything to do with it.’

‘I
MUST CONFESS
, Sir Harry, that I have never read any of your books,’ said the Harley Street specialist, as he looked across the desk at his
patient. ‘My colleague Mr Lever, however, is an ardent fan. He was disappointed to hear that you’ve chosen to have an operation rather than a course of radiotherapy, which is his
particular field of expertise. Can I begin by asking if that is still the case?’

‘It most certainly is, Mr Kirby. I’ve discussed it at length with my GP, Dr Richards, and my wife, and they’re both of the opinion that I should opt for an
operation.’

‘Then my next question,’ said Kirby, ‘and I think I already know the answer, is whether you would prefer to go private or have the operation done on the NHS?’

‘On that particular decision,’ said Harry, ‘I wasn’t given a lot of choice. If your wife has chaired an NHS hospital for seven years, and gone on to become a minister of
health, I have a feeling going private would constitute grounds for divorce.’

‘Then all we need to discuss is the timing. I’ve studied your test results and agree with your GP that while your PSA level remains around six, there is no need for alarm. But as it
has been increasing steadily year by year, it might be wise not to hold off the operation for too much longer. With that in mind, I’d like to book you in for some time in the next six months.
That will have the added bonus that no one will be able to suggest that you jumped the queue because of your connections.’

‘Frankly, that would suit me as well. I’ve just completed the first draft of my latest novel, and I plan to hand in the manuscript to my publishers just before Christmas.’

‘Then that’s one problem settled,’ said Kirby, as he began to turn over several pages of a large desk diary. ‘Shall we say January eleventh at ten o’clock? And I
suggest you clear your diary for the following three weeks.’

Harry made a note in his diary, placed three asterisks at the top of the page, and put a line through the rest of the month.

‘I do most of my NHS work at Guy’s or St Thomas’s,’ Kirby continued. ‘I presume that as Tommy’s is just over Westminster Bridge from your home, it would be
more convenient for you and your wife.’

‘Indeed it would, thank you.’

‘Now, there is one small complication that has arisen since your last consultation with Dr Richards.’ Kirby swung his chair round and faced a screen on the wall. ‘If you study
this X-ray,’ he said, pointing a thin pencil beam of light on to the screen, ‘you will observe that the cancer cells are currently confined to one small area. However, if you look more
carefully,’ he added, magnifying the image, ‘you will see that one or two of the little miscreants are attempting to escape. I intend to remove every one of them before they spread to
other parts of your body, where they will be able to do far more damage. Although we have recently developed a cure for prostate cancer, the same cannot be said for the bones or liver, which is
where these little blighters are heading.’

Harry nodded.

‘Now, I expect, Sir Harry, you may well have some questions of your own.’

‘How long will the operation take, and how quickly will I recover?’

‘The operation usually takes three to four hours, after which you will experience a fairly unpleasant fortnight, but the average patient is pretty well back to normal after three weeks at
most. You will be left with little more than half a dozen small scars on your stomach that will quickly fade, and I would expect you to be back at your desk writing within a month.’

‘That’s reassuring,’ said Harry. He hesitated before asking tentatively, ‘How many times have you performed this particular operation?’

‘Over a thousand, so I think I’ve got the hang of it by now,’ said Kirby. ‘How many books have you written?’

‘Touché,’ said Harry, standing up to shake hands with the surgeon. ‘Thank you. I look forward to seeing you again in January.’

‘No one looks forward to seeing me again,’ said Kirby. ‘But in your case, I consider it a privilege to have been chosen as your surgeon. I may not have read any of your books,
but I had just started my first job as a registrar at UCH when you made your speech to the Nobel Prize Committee in Stockholm on behalf of Anatoly Babakov.’ He removed a pen from an inside
pocket, held it in the air and said, ‘The pen is mightier than the sword.’

‘I’m both flattered and appalled in equal measure,’ said Harry.

‘Appalled?’ said Kirby, a look of surprise on his face.

‘Flattered that you remember my speech, but appalled that you were a young registrar at the time. Am I that old?’

‘Certainly not,’ said Kirby. ‘And when I’m finished with you, you’ll be good for another twenty years.’

‘What do you think?’ whispered Emma.

‘I can’t pretend it would have been my first choice as Jessie’s entry for the RA School’s gold medal,’ admitted Richard.

‘Nor mine. And to think she could have entered one of her traditional portraits, which would surely have given her a chance of winning.’

‘But it is a portrait, Mama,’ said Sebastian.

‘Seb, it’s a giant condom,’ whispered Emma.

‘It is indeed, but you have to look more closely to see its real significance.’

‘Yes, I must confess I’ve missed its real significance,’ said Emma. ‘Perhaps you’d be kind enough to explain it to me.’

‘It’s Jessie’s comment on mankind,’ said Samantha, coming to Seb’s rescue. ‘Inside the condom is a portrait of modern man.’

‘But that’s a—’

‘Yes,’ said Harry, unable to resist any longer. ‘It’s an erect penis in the place of the man’s brain.’

‘And his ears,’ said Emma.

‘Well done, Mama, I’m glad you worked that one out.’

‘But look more closely at the eyes,’ said Samantha, ‘and you’ll see two images of naked women.’

‘Yes, I can see them, but why is the man’s tongue poking out?’

‘I can’t imagine, Mother,’ said Seb.

‘But at three thousand pounds,’ continued Emma, still unconvinced, ‘will anyone buy it?’

‘I intend to,’ said Seb.

‘That’s very loyal of you, my darling, but where on earth will you hang it?’

‘In the banking hall, so everyone can see it.’

‘Sebastian, it’s a giant condom!’

‘It is indeed, Mother, and I suspect one or two of our more enlightened customers might even recognize it as such.’

‘And no doubt you can also explain the title to me,’ said Emma. ‘
Every Seven Seconds
?’

Sebastian was saved when a distinguished-looking gentleman appeared by their side.

‘Good evening, minister,’ he said to Emma. ‘May I say how delighted I am to see you and your husband at the RA.’

‘Thank you, Sir Hugh. We wouldn’t have missed it.’

‘Is there a particular reason you interrupted your busy schedule to join us?’

‘My granddaughter,’ said Emma, gesturing towards
Every Seven Seconds
, unable to hide her embarrassment.

‘You must be very proud,’ said the former president of the RA. ‘It is to her credit that she has never mentioned her distinguished grandparents.’

‘I suspect that if your father is a banker and your grandmother a Tory politician, it’s not something you would want to share with your artistic friends. But then I doubt if
she’s ever told you we have two of your watercolours hanging in our home in the country.’

‘I’m flattered,’ said Sir Hugh. ‘But I confess I wish I had been born with your granddaughter’s talent.’

‘That’s kind of you, but can I ask you for your candid opinion of Jessica’s latest work?’

The PPRA took a long look at
Every Seven Seconds
, before saying, ‘Original, innovative. Stretches the boundaries of one’s imagination. I would suggest it is influenced by
Marcel Duchamp.’

‘I agree with you, Sir Hugh,’ said Sebastian, ‘which is precisely the reason I’m going to buy the picture.’

‘I’m afraid it’s already been sold.’

‘Someone’s actually bought it?’ said Emma incredulously.

‘Yes, an American dealer snapped it up as soon as the show opened, and several other customers, like you, have been disappointed to find it had already been sold.’

Emma was speechless.

‘Please, will you excuse me, because it’s time to announce the winner of this year’s gold medal.’ Sir Hugh gave a slight bow before leaving them to walk over to the stage
at the far end of the room.

Emma was still speechless when a couple of photographers began taking pictures of her standing beside the painting. A journalist turned a page of his notepad and said, ‘May I ask,
minister, what you think of your granddaughter’s portrait?’

‘Original, innovative. Stretches the boundaries of one’s imagination. I would suggest it was influenced by Marcel Duchamp.’

‘Thank you, minister,’ said the journalist, writing down her words before hurrying away.

‘You are not only shameless, Mama, but your audacity stretches the boundaries of one’s imagination. I’ll bet you’d never heard of Duchamp before today.’

‘Let’s be fair,’ said Harry, ‘your mother never behaved like this before she became a politician.’

There was a gentle tap on the microphone, and everyone turned to face the stage.

‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Hugh Casson, and I’d like to welcome you to the Royal Academy School’s exhibition. As chairman of the awards panel, it is now my
privilege to announce the winner of this year’s gold medal. I usually preface my words by saying what a difficult decision it has been for the judges, and how unlucky the runners-up were, but
not on this occasion, because the panel was unanimous in awarding this year’s gold medal to—’

‘You must be so proud of your granddaughter,’ said the Permanent Secretary when she joined the minister in her office the next morning. ‘She’ll be among
such illustrious company.’

‘Yes, I read the details in this morning’s papers, and all the different interpretations of the picture, but tell me, Pauline, what did you make of it?’

‘Original, innovative, and it stretches the boundaries of one’s imagination.’

‘That’s all I need,’ said Emma, not attempting to hide her sarcasm. ‘But I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that it’s a giant condom, which the
Sun
featured on its front page.’

‘And that condom got more coverage than the government’s entire PR campaign for safer sex, which as I’m sure you remember, minister, you launched last year.’

‘Well, I did manage the odd headline when I said I hoped the campaign would be penetrative,’ said Emma with a smile. ‘Anything else, Pauline?’

‘I’ve just read the latest version of your speech for next Thursday’s debate, minister.’

‘And it sent you to sleep?’

‘I did find it a little prosaic.’

‘A polite way of saying it was dull.’

‘Well, let’s say that an injection of humour wouldn’t do any harm.’

‘Especially as humour is my brother’s forté.’

‘It just might make a difference if the press are right in suggesting it’s going to be a close-run thing.’

‘Can’t we rely on the facts to persuade the waverers?’

‘I wouldn’t count on it, minister. And I think you ought to know that the PM has asked what plans we have in place should we lose the vote.’

‘Has she indeed? Then I’d better go over the speech yet again this weekend. The irony is that if it wasn’t my brother I was up against, I’d be asking him to add the odd
bon mot.’