Short of Glory by Alan Judd

from Sandy but with Joanna he had an impulse to do the opposite, wanting to show off. He held it out. ‘Have
it.’
    ‘Don’t you want it?’
    ‘For what?’
    ‘In connection with your “explanation”.’
    ‘It’s not mine. Have it.’
    ‘What do you think I should do with it?’
    She had the same clipped speech as Jim but the tone was softer and there was a slight lilt. Patrick had the bullet in the palm of his hand, aware that at any moment the others might see it. He
particularly did not want to explain it to Jim. ‘Keep it for luck.’
    ‘Is it a lucky one?’
    ‘It has been so far.’
    She smiled and took it, fingering it for a few moments before putting it in her bag. ‘I’d assumed it was for your gun.’
    ‘I don’t have a gun.’
    ‘A lot of people do. Some carry them all the time.’
    ‘Does Jim?’
    The question came out more abruptly than he had meant. She turned her head a little to one side. ‘Some of the time he does, yes.’
    There was a pause. He had introduced a wrong note and the conversation had lost impetus. He needed to restore it quickly before one of the others noticed they weren’t talking and included
them. ‘It was a tiring flight, wasn’t it?’ he said lamely.
    She looked at him before replying. He had assumed that she had seen him at the airport simply because he had noticed her. Now he felt unsure and foolish.
    She smiled. ‘You looked so lost I felt quite sorry for you. You didn’t know where to put yourself.’
    This cheered him. The fact that she had noticed him and had not said so suggested a hint of complicity. ‘It made it worse when you smiled and then went off with someone else.’
    She laughed now. ‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t help smiling. You looked so tousled.’
    Further conversation was prevented by an eddy of people surrounding the ambassador, who was now moving through the room. His presence and those attracted to it destroyed the defensive lines of
the three main groups. Taller than anyone else, Sir Wilfrid nodded continuously and courteously, saying ‘Yes, yes, quite’ very frequently. He shook hands, attempted to smooth his wild
white hair and occasionally touched the knot of his tie. Seeing this last gesture caused Patrick involuntarily to do the same.
    Philip startled everyone by announcing in a high voice, ‘Your Excellency, ladies and gentlemen, if you would be pleased to go through now.’
    After some hesitation the ambassador proceeded on the arm of the German counsellor’s wife. Jim said something to Joanna and Sandy walked on ahead of Clifford whilst he was talking to her.
Patrick was separated from them by a troop of Lower Africans. He had not in any case imagined that he could remain talking to Joanna for much longer. Perhaps there would be a chance later so long
as someone else talked to Jim. He was grateful to Sandy and would have thanked her had she not walked off as though everyone was a stranger. However, the prospect of food reminded him that he was
very hungry. He entered the next room with a sudden excess of saliva in his mouth.
    Instead of food, though, there were rows of government-issue metal chairs. They faced a piano, beside which stood Claire Longhurst, her hands tightly clasped and her smile fixed with the
rigidity of rigor mortis.
    There was a discreet race for the back of the room which was won by the British, able to make use of the national characteristic of self-effacement in order to be more craftily pushy. The Lower
Africans seized the front and middle rows to the right of the gangway while the foreign diplomats shuffled disconsolately to the left. Sir Wilfrid was shown to a low armchair on the front right,
which meant that his head was on a level with the chairs on either side of him. Patrick and a sulky Frenchman who would not speak English hovered near the door until directed to a row of three
chairs at the side.
    The entertainment consisted of Philip playing humorous records as examples for ‘our