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him.
    ‘No, Mr Latimer.’ It occurred to Elizabeth almost simultaneously that he might actually be trying to be sympathetic, but also—and for sure—that he was enjoying the feel of that metaphorical coat across his shoulders. So now a lie with icing on it was indicated. ‘I appreciate your—concern.’ Look grateful but embarrassed, Elizabeth ! ‘But that problem is … contained now.’ It wasn’t difficult to look embarrassed, particularly with a chocolate in her mouth.
    He nodded, and reached across to the box himself. ‘So what did he want, then?’ He gave the box a little push. ‘Have another one?’
    Did a weakness for chocolates suggest truthfulness in other matters? She wondered. ‘I shouldn’t—but I will.’ But she also had to remember that he was an extremely clever man. ‘It seems that he sent me an SG after I was detached from the daily movements analysis. And he wasn’t happy with the answer he received.’ She would have to brief Paul about this.
    He munched for a moment. ‘How did he know you were on analysis?’
    She wasn’t there ahead of him, but at least she was ready for anything. ‘Oh—‘ This had better be good, Elizabeth! ’ — I asked him about that … ’
    ‘And what did he say?’
    Only the truth would do. ‘He seems to know my style. He calls it a “mind-print”.’ She shrugged, a little disbelieving, a little irritated.
    ‘He does?’ Another nod, and another reach towards the box. But there were so few left now that he had to lean forward to search among the empty paper containers. ‘Like the radio-operators … But to do it with SGs is really quite ingenious … He’s no fool, is your Dr Mitchell, Elizabeth.’
    That was one crack too many. ‘Not my Dr Mitchell, Mr Latimer.’
    ‘No. Forgive me.’ He found his chocolate, and then turned towards the screen as he fed it to himself. ‘You know, the results of your Civil Service interview a couple of years ago, and all that … they were quite good, you know.’ He had got a chewy one this time, and it was giving him problems. ‘And your other fitness tests.’
    Patronizing chauvinist pig! thought Elizabeth. But then she checked her own prejudice, and reassessed her judgment. What he was doing was prudently clearing her for what Paul plainly believed was beyond her capability.
    Prudent level-headed Deputy-Director! ‘Colonel Butler said my results were satisfactory.’
    ‘More than satisfactory. They said you were a late developer, and they’d probably have failed you if you’d come to them straight from Oxford, in spite of your first-class degree and your hockey Blue … It seems that they are presently indulging—or trying to indulge—some sort of positive discrimination in that regard.’ He shook his head at the screen. ‘It won’t do, you know—it won’t do at all! Though I suppose they might have passed you … because you were female … ’
    Patronizing chauvinist pig! ‘I’m still female, Mr Latimer.’ Not even a secure classification was worth this! ‘I may have developed, but I haven’t changed in that respect.’
    ‘Oh—‘ He left the screen instantly, to blink at her in surprise, almost as though he was seeing her for the first time ‘—yes—?’
    ‘You sent for me, Mr Latimer. I’m sorry I was late.’ She often—too often!—saw Admiral Varney’s face, but it was only very rarely that she heard his voice.
    ‘Yes … Miss Loftus.’ Suddenly he really did see her. And suddenly he wasn’t a little fat man with an almost empty box of chocolates in front of him on an empty desk.
    Tripod masts!
    Then he relaxed, and the masts faded into her imagination, and he was a little fat man again.
    ‘How’s your latin, Miss Loftus—Elizabeth?’
    ‘My—what?’ She couldn’t have heard correctly.
    ‘Your Latin. Veni, vidi , via?’ He stared at her, and she had heard correctly. ‘Hie, haec, hoc — and Gallia est omnis divisa in panes tres? ’
    She had heard correctly—but