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nodded gravely. ‘Yes. There’s only ours and some of the French Jews left now. It’s been a matter of national pride and independence not to let them go, despite German
pressure. But Mosley wants them out and he counts more every month.’ He sighed. ‘Where are we going, do you think, Fitzgerald?’
    ‘I think we’re going to hell in a handcart.’
    A young couple walked by, the woman wearing white-framed sunglasses, a pink frock patterned with flowers. Between them they held the hands of a little girl, swinging her up in the air; she
shrieked with delight. A collie dog ran round them, wagging its tail. Jackson smiled and the woman smiled back. The little family walked on, towards the water. When they were out of earshot Geoff
said, ‘It’s getting worse in India, too. Has been ever since Gandhi died in prison in ’47. It doesn’t matter how many leaders they lock up along with Nehru. It just goes on:
the rent strikes, the boycott of British goods, strikes in the industries exporting to Britain. These mutinies of Indian regiments against their officers – that really could bring the whole
thing tumbling down. And the irony is that the Berlin Treaty limited our trade with the continent – look at the duties we have to pay on imports and exports, just so Hitler can use Europe as
a captive market for his own industries. But that’s how Beaverbrook’s people wanted it.’ Geoff paused. ‘Imperial free trade and tariffs on trade with everyone else. His
lifelong dream.’
    ‘Well, now he’s got it.’ Geoff gave one of his humourless barking laughs. ‘And we’ve had a Depression that’s gone on over twenty years.’
    ‘I’ve heard around the office,’ David spoke hesitantly, ‘that Enoch Powell wants to recruit a couple of new English divisions to send to India. But that would push our
army above the Treaty limit.’
    Jackson said, ‘Did you know, Hitler once offered to lend us a couple of SS divisions to sort out India.’
How much does this man know
? David thought.
Who is he
?
    Jackson looked at him. ‘You’re in the Dominions Office, Geoff tells me.’
    ‘Yes.’
This is going too fast.
He’d already said too much to Geoff.
    ‘Principal in the Political Division, main job servicing the minister’s weekly meetings with the Dominion High Commissioners.’ Jackson’s tone had changed again, become
brisk, businesslike.
    ‘Yes.’ The weekly meetings between the minister and the High Commissioners for the Dominions – Canada, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa and, since last year, Rhodesia
– were organized and minuted by David’s superior, with David doing much of the legwork.
    ‘Present at most of the meetings?’
    David didn’t answer. There was a little silence, then Jackson continued, his tone conversational again. ‘You’ve been overseas, I believe, to New Zealand?’
    ‘Yes. I was posted there from ’44 to ’46. My father has family in Auckland. He’s gone to live with them, in fact. He thought we were going to hell in a handcart,
too.’
    ‘And your mother?’
    ‘She died when I was at school.’
    ‘You have Irish blood, from your name.’
    ‘My father’s from a line of Dublin solicitors. He brought my mother and me over when I was three, during the Independence War.’
    Jackson smiled. ‘You have an Irish look, if you don’t mind me saying.’
    ‘A lot of people think that.’
    ‘Any loyalties to Ireland?’
    David shook his head. ‘To De Valera’s republic? No. My father hated all that stern Catholic nationalism.’
    ‘Did you think of staying out in Kiwiland with your father?’
    ‘Yes. But we decided to come back. This is still our country.’ And there had been no anti-Jew laws then; repression was still mild.
    Jackson looked down across London, spread out under the blue sky. ‘Britain’s become a dangerous place. If you step out of line, that is. But,’ he said quietly,
‘opposition’s growing.’
    David looked at Geoff. His friend’s nose