The Ottawa Journal asked, 'Isn't this case a little different, Mr Prime Minister? I mean, the man having no country and all that.'
James Howden said soberly, 'When you are dealing with human beings, Mr Chase, every case is different. That is why – to provide a measure of fairness and consistency – we have an Immigration Act, approved by Parliament and the Canadian people. The Government, as it must by law, operates within the framework of that act and, in the instance we are speaking of, this is exactly what has been done.' He paused, waiting for the note takers to catch up with his words, then continued. 'I have, of course, none of the details immediately before me. But I have been assured that the application of the young man in question has been considered carefully on its merits and that he is in no way admissible to Canada under the Immigration Act.'
A young reporter, whom Howden failed to recognize, asked, 'Wouldn't you say, sir, there are times when human considerations are more important than technicalities?'
Howden smiled. 'If you are asking me a rhetorical question, my answer is that human considerations are always important, and this Government has frequently demonstrated its awareness of them. But if your question is specifically about the case we are speaking of, let me repeat that human factors have been taken into account as far as is possible. However, I must remind you again that the Government is bound – as it must, and should be – by what it can accomplish legally.'
The wind blew bitingly and James Howden felt Margaret shiver beside him. This was enough, he decided; the next question would be the last. It came from the mild-mannered Tomkins who began, almost apologetically, 'The Leader of the Opposition made a statement earlier this morning, sir.' The reporter shuffled copy paper, consulting his notes, then went on, 'Mr Deitz said, "The Government should resolve the case of Henri Duval on broad human principles, rather than stubborn adherence to the letter of the law. The Minister of Citizenship and Immigration has power, if he chooses to use it, to enact an order in council permitting this tragically unfortunate young man to enter Canada as an immigrant."'
'The Minister has no such power,' James Howden snapped. 'The power is vested in the Crown in the person of the Governor General. Mr Bonar Deitz is equally aware of that as anyone else.'
There was a moment's silence, then with bland innocence the reporter asked, 'But doesn't the Governor General always do exactly what you yourself recommend, sir, including waiving the Immigration Act, which has happened quite a few times, I believe?' For all his seeming mildness, Tomkins had one of the sharpest minds in the Ottawa press corps, and Howden realized he had walked into a verbal trap.
'I have always understood that the Opposition object to government by order in council,' he said sharply. But it was a weak answer and he knew it. He caught sight of Brian Richardson's face suffused with anger – and with good reason, Howden thought. Not only had the focus of attention shifted from the important Washington mission to this trivial affair, but he himself had not come out of the question well.
He decided to recover as best he could, 'I am sorry to learn from the reference to Mr Deitz that the matter we are speaking of could become an issue, perhaps, between political parties. My own conviction is that it should not.' He paused for effect, then continued earnestly, 'As I indicated earlier, there are no grounds for admitting this man Duval to Canada under our present laws and, from what I am told, many other countries have taken a similar stand. Nor do I see any obligation upon Canada to take such action when other countries will riot. As to the facts, both known and alleged, let me assure you again that these have been examined thoroughly by the Department of Citizenship and Immigration before a decision was reached. And now, gentlemen, if you please, that is all.'
He had been tempted to add something about newspapers maintaining a sense of news proportion, but decided not; the Press, while every brother's keeper, could be savagely resentful when criticized itself. Instead, smiling outwardly but seething with inner fury at Harvey Warrender, the Prime Minister took Margaret's arm and walked towards the waiting aircraft. Applause and cheers from his supporters followed them.
Chapter 2
The VIP turbo-prop Vanguard, maintained by the Government for official flights, was partitioned into three compartments – a conventional section forward for non-ministerial staff who had been boarded before the Prime Minister's arrival; a more comfortable centre cabin, now occupied by the three ministers and several deputies; and, aft, a comfortably upholstered drawing-room, decorated in pastel shades of blue, with a cosily compact bedroom adjoining.
The rearmost suite, which had been designed originally for use by the Queen and her husband on state visits, was to be used now by the Prime Minister and Margaret. The steward, an RCAF flight sergeant, helped strap them into two of the deep soft seats, then discreetly disappeared. Outside, the deep, muted throb of the four Rolls-Royce motors increased in tempo as they began to taxi towards the airport perimeter.
When the steward had gone James Howden said sharply, 'Was it really necessary to encourage Warrender in that absurd conceit of his about Latin doggerel?'
Margaret answered calmly, 'Not really, I suppose. But if you must know, I thought you were being extremely rude and I wanted to make amends.'
'Goddammit Margaret!' His voice rose. 'I had good reason to be rude with Harvey Warrender.'
His wife removed her hat carefully and placed it on a small table beside her seat. The hat was a wispy affair of black velvet and net which she had bought in Montreal. She said levelly, 'Kindly don't snap at me, Jamie. You may have had reason, but I didn't, and I've said before I'm not a carbon copy of your moods.'
'That isn't the point at all,…'
'Yes, it is the point!' Now there was a flush of red in Margaret's cheeks. She was always slow to anger, which was the reason their quarrels were comparatively rare. 'Judging by the way you behaved with the reporters just now, I'd say that Harvey Warrender isn't the only one to be accused of vanity.'
He asked abruptly, 'What do you mean?'
'You were angry with that Mr Tomkins just because he wasn't silly enough to be taken in by all your pompous nonsense about fairness and humanity. If you want to know, I wasn't either.'
He expostulated, 'Surely, at least here, I'm entitled to some loyalty.'.
'Oh, don't be ridiculous,' Margaret flared. 'And for goodness' sake stop talking to me as if I were a political meeting. I'm your wife, remember? – I've seen you undressed. It's perfectly obvious what's happened. Harvey Warrender has put you in a difficult position…'
He interjected, 'It's an impossible position.'
'Very well, impossible. And for some reason you feel you must back him up, but because you don't like doing it you're taking your bad temper out on everyone else, including me.' Unusually, with the last words there was a catch in Margaret's voice.
There was a silence between them. Outside the engines' tempo increased for take-off; the runway slid by and they were airborne, climbing. He reached for Margaret's hand. 'You were quite right. I was being bad-tempered.'
This was the way most of their arguments ended, even the serious ones, and there had been a few in their married life. Invariably one of them saw the other's point of view and then conceded. James Howden wondered if there really were married couples who lived together without quarrelling. If so, he thought, they must be dull and spiritless people.