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It was clarity of purpose which he needed now, which the Government needed. All too often Administrations had been brought to their knees as leaders listened to the siren voices, confronting the harsh realities of power only to withdraw into weakness and compromise. Didn't they say that once they were elected, all politicians were the same? Most politicians were the same - weak, irresolute, insignificant characters, who fouled the nest and got in the way of those who had the resolve to move forward.
Great men had an inner strength, and he was furious with himself now for having doubts. Whether they wished to recognise it or not, all politicians played with other men's lives, and all lives had a price—not just in war, but in placing limits on the care of the sick and the elderly, in setting punishment for crime, in sending men down coal mines or out to the angry fishing grounds of the Arctic Circle. The national interest required sacrifice from many, and often of the few.
He looked out at the mists which still clung tenaciously to the tree tops of the New Forest, blotting out the horizon and transporting his thoughts. He felt as Caesar must have done when faced with the Rubicon, uncertain of what lay on the opposite shore, knowing that he could never retrace his footsteps. Few men were favoured enough to take control of the great decisions of life; most simply suffered the consequences of decisions taken by others. He thought of his brother in the hedgerows of Dunkirk, a pawn like a million others in the games of the great. Urquhart could be one of the great, should be one of them, and O'Neill was as insignificant a pawn as he could imagine.
Once more he picked up the paper with its load of white powder. His hand was still trembling, but less than before. He was glad he was not looking down the sights of a shotgun at some deer; he would have missed. Or building a house of cards. The powder slipped unprotesting into the polythene bag, which he then quickly resealed. It looked as if it had never been touched.
Five minutes later he had flushed all the remaining powder down the toilet, following that with the torn-up pieces of writing paper. The writing table was carefully wiped with a damp rag and polished with a towel to hide any trace that he had sat there, and he replaced the polythene bag in the talcum tin, the tin in the toilet bag and the bag back where he had found it. He was absolutely satisfied that O'Neill would never know his case had been tampered with.
He returned to the bathroom where he ran the taps at full flow. He washed the spoon meticulously and as the gushing water swirled down the drain, he poured the remaining contents of the tin into the water and watched it disappear.
Finally, he left the house once more by the kitchen door, walking across the carefully manicured lawns to a far corner behind the weeping willow tree, where his gardener always had a small pile of garden rubbish ready to bum. It was soon ablaze, with the empty tin and rubber gloves buried deep in its midst. When he was satisfied the fire was burning thoroughly, he returned to the house, poured himself a large whisky which he swallowed as greedily as O'Neill, and at last relaxed. It was done.
O'Neill had been asleep for three hours when he was roused by someone shaking him fiercely by the shoulder. Slowly he focused his eyes, and saw Urquhart leaning over him, instructing him to wake up.
'Roger. There's had to be a change of plan. I've just had a call from the BBC asking if they can send a film crew over here to shoot some domestic footage for their news coverage on Tuesday. Samuel has apparently already agreed, so I felt I had little choice but to say yes. They will be here in about an hour and will be staying all afternoon. It's just what we didn't want. If they find you here it will start all sorts of speculation about how party headquarters is interfering in the leadership race. We must avoid any confusion at this late stage. I'm sorry. I think it best that you leave right away.'
O'Neill was still trying to find second gear on his tongue as Urquhart poured some coffee past it, explaining once again how sorry he was about the weekend but how glad he was they had cleared up any confusion between them.
'Remember, Roger. A knighthood next Whitsun, and we can sort out the job you want next week. I'm so happy you were able to come. I really am so grateful,' Urquhart was saying as he tipped O'Neill into his car.
He watched as O'Neill's car edged its way carefully and with practised caution down the driveway and out through the gates.
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