The Lords' Day (retail) by Michael Dobbs Read Free Book Online

at his mathematical studies but
also an excellent musician and a tenacious cross-country runner. He had kept a clean slate, apart from the time he had got himself arrested in The Broad for being drunk in charge of a bicycle. The
charge was later dropped when it was shown that even in the hands of the entirely sober and upright station sergeant, it simply wasn’t possible to persuade the rusted bike to travel in a
straight line.
    Magnus’s life had been led largely in the shadows at the edge of the public arena. By contrast, William-Henry Harrison Edwards was never going to get away so lightly, not when his mother
was the first female President in US history and the third in the family to make it to the White House. Great things were expected of William-Henry, and he had delivered. A Harvard history
undergraduate, summa cum laude , currently a Rhodes Scholar in Oxford and predicted to become a rowing blue. Life had been a chest crammed with many treasures, most of which he had deserved,
yet it had caused his mother much soul searching before she’d agreed to let him continue his education abroad. After all, the sons of America weren’t exactly welcome in many parts of
the modern world, but Britain, she had eventually been persuaded, was different. ‘Mom, it’s the Special Relationship. Harry Potter, Prince William, motherhood and organic apple pie, all
that sort of gentle stuff,’ her son had declared. ‘And you cannot – you simply can not – send tens of thousands of other American sons halfway round the world to
fight our wars while you keep me wrapped up at home. Heaven’s sakes, Mom, Oxford’s not like Afghanistan.’ So, reluctantly, she had let him go.
    ‘By the way, Mr Paine, Dad sends regards. And his thanks and apologies,’ Magnus was saying, ticking off his fingers. ‘I’m quoting here. Regards, because you’re the
best ambassador he’s ever had dealings with. Thanks, for taking me off his hands this morning. And apologies, because he’s tied up in some stuffy meeting and can’t give you all
this guff himself. Something about Daud Gul, I think. Trying to decide if they can stuff and mount him in order to put him on public display.’
    ‘I understand his difficulties. Hooking the fish is one thing, landing him is another, I guess. But I fear we have no time for high politics. We must leave. It wouldn’t do to keep
Her Majesty waiting.’
    ‘We haven’t even had breakfast,’ the younger American complained, searching for his jacket. ‘Hell, I wonder what Daud Gul will get for his last breakfast. You know, as
and when—’
    ‘Revenge, perhaps,’ the ambassdor offered. ‘These matters have a history of producing the most unexpected results.’
    ‘I hope when he drops he falls all the way to hell. Don’t you agree, Mr Paine?’
    ‘As a diplomat I’m supposed neither to agree nor disagree. And I think you’ll find that the British no longer hold with retribution and all those Old Testament edicts. Such
beliefs are becoming a uniquely American preserve.’
    ‘Pity. We should Saddam the bastard.’
    ‘And as for the long road to hell, I’ve often found that it doesn’t lie as far away as most of us think,’ the ambassador continued, leading them out of the door towards
his car.
    ‘Say, do they do croissants and coffee at this State Opening thing?’ William-Henry enquired.
    ‘When grown men start dressing in silk stockings and wigs, there’s no way of being sure what to expect,’ the ambassador replied.
    9.42 a.m.
    The day really wasn’t working out for Harry. A state of near-paralysis was spreading through the arteries that led from the Palace of Westminster until it had choked much
of Central London. Harry tried to call a taxi, but nothing was moving, forcing him to go by foot. Not that this was unusual. In his early days as an officer in the Household Cavalry he had once
taken his troop on an unscheduled six-hundred-mile route march down the spine of Norway,