They were halfway across the room when the Queen's husband entered breezily. The Prince came in through a narrow private doorway camouflaged by a long gilt-framed mirror. 'Is there any tea left?' he asked cheerfully. Then seeing Howden, 'What! – leaving us already?'
'Good afternoon. Your Royal Highness.' Howden bowed. He knew better than to reciprocate the informality. The Prince had been responsible for clearing away a good deal of stuffiness around the throne, but he still demanded deference and his eyes could flash and his tone become icy if he sensed it lacking.
'If you really must go, I'll walk with you,' the Prince announced. Howden leaned over the Queen's hand which she offered, then with momentary formality retreated the rest of the way out. 'Careful!' the Prince warned. 'Chair astern to port!' He made a half-hearted attempt at backing out himself.
The Queen's face was stony as they left. Howden surmised that sometimes she felt her husband's breeziness went a little far.
Outside, in an ornate anteroom, the two men shook hands as a liveried footman waited to escort the Prime Minister to his car. 'Cheerio then,' the Prince said, unabashed. 'Before you go back to Canada try to pop in again.'
Ten minutes later, driving down the Mall, away from Buckingham Palace and toward Canada House, James Howden had smiled, remembering. He admired the Prince's determination to be informal, though when you had a permanent rank like the Queen's husband you could turn informality on and off as you pleased. It was permanence of that sort which made a difference to a man, inside as well as out, and politicians like himself always knew that someday soon their tenure of rank would end. Of course, in England most retired cabinet ministers were given titles as a reminder that they had served their country well. But nowadays the system was out of date… an absurd charade. It would be even more ridiculous in Canada… the Earl of Ottawa, no less. How amused his colleagues would be!
And yet, in fairness, he supposed he ought to examine the Queen's proposal carefully before dismissing it. The lady had a point when she spoke of the need for distinction between Canada and the United States. Perhaps, after all, he should sound out the Cabinet as he had promised. If it was for the country's good…
The Earl of Ottawa…
But he had not sounded out the Cabinet, nor mentioned the subject to anyone until this moment in Washington with Arthur Lexington. Now, though omitting the Queen's reference to himself, he explained, with touches of humour, the conversation as it had taken place.
At the end, glancing at his watch, he saw that only fifteen minutes remained before they must cross Pennsylvania Avenue to the White House. Rising, he strolled once more to the open library window. Over his shoulder he asked, 'Well, what do you think?'
The External Affairs Minister swung down his legs from the footstool and stood upright, stretching. His expression was amused. 'It would make us different from the US all right, but I'm not so sure it would be in the right direction.'
'I thought much the same thing,' Howden said, 'but I must say it has since occurred to me that Her Majesty's point about separateness may be well taken. In the future, you know, anything which can help make Canada distinctive and an entity is going to be important.' He felt Lexington glance at him curiously, and added, 'If you feel strongly we'll forget the whole thing, but in view of the lady's request I felt all of us should discuss it.'
'Discussion won't do any harm, I suppose,' Lexington conceded. He began to pace the rug again.
'The thing is,' Howden said, 'I wonder if you'd be the one to bring the matter up in Cabinet. I believe it might come better from you, and, that way, I could reserve my judgement until we got some other opinions.'
Arthur Lexington said dubiously, 'I'd like to think about that. Prime Minister, if you don't mind.'
'Of course, Arthur; whatever you decide.' Obviously, Howden thought, the subject must be handled cautiously, if at all.
Lexington paused beside a telephone on the polished centre table. Half-smiling, he inquired, 'Shall we call for coffee before our date with destiny?'
Chapter 2
Across the swathe of White House lawn dividing them, the President called out cheerfully in his strong, bluff voice to the group of focusing, jostling photographers.
'You men must have shot enough film for a double feature.' Then to the Prime Minister at his side: 'What do you think, Jim? Shall we go inside and begin work?'
'It's a pity, Mr President,' James Howden said. After the chill Ottawa winter, he had enjoyed the warmth and sunshine. 'But I suppose we'd better.' He nodded agreeably to the short, broad-shouldered man with the angular, bony features and sharp, determined jaw. The outdoor session which both of them had just had with the White House press corps had pleased Howden greatly. Throughout, the President had deferred courteously to the Prime Minister, saying little, and turning reporters' questions towards Howden so that the latter would be the one quoted today and tomorrow in press, TV, and radio. And afterwards, when they had strolled together on the south lawn of the White House for the benefit of photographers and TV cameras, the President had carefully manoeuvred James Howden nearest the battery of lenses. The result of such consideration, Howden thought – a rare experience for a Canadian in Washington – could contribute a good deal to his own status back home.
He felt the President's massive, big-fingered hand grasp his arm, steering, and the two of them moved towards the Executive Mansion steps. The other man's face, under the untidy thatch of grey-flecked hair with its abbreviated cowlick, was relaxed and agreeable. 'How'd it be, Jim…' – it was the easy Midwestern twang used so effectively in the televised Fireside Talks – 'How'd it be if we dropped the Mr President business?' A deep chuckle. 'You know my first name, I imagine.'
Genuinely pleased, Howden replied, 'I'd be honoured, Tyler.' In a segment of his mind he wondered if it would be possible to leak this intimate relationship to the Press. In Canada it would give the lie to some of his critics who were always carping that the Howden government lacked influence in Washington. Of course, he recognized that most of the courtesies today and yesterday had stemmed from Canada's strong bargaining position – which he intended to uphold. But that was no reason for not being pleased, or making political hay whenever one could.
As they strolled across the lawn, the ground soft beneath their feet, James Howden said, 'There hasn't been an opportunity before to congratulate you personally on your re-election.'
'Why, thank you, Jim!' Again the pawlike hand, this time clapped firmly on the Prime Minister's shoulder. 'Yes, it was a wonderful election. I'm proud to say I have the largest popular vote a United States President has ever received. And we swept Congress, as you know. That's something else again -no President has ever enjoyed stronger support than I have right at this moment in the House and Senate. I can tell you confidently there isn't any legislation I want that I can't get passed. Oh, I make a few concessions here and there for the sake of it, but nothing to matter. It's a unique situation.'
'Unique for you, perhaps,' Howden said. He decided some good-natured needling would do no harm. 'But, of course, with our own parliamentary system the party in power can always have the legislation it wants.'
'True! True! And don't think there haven't been times when I – and some of my predecessors – have envied you. The miracle about our constitution, you know, is that it works at all.' The President's voice ranged lustily on. 'The trouble was, the Founding Fathers were so damned anxious to cut loose from everything British that they threw out the best things along with the bad. But one makes the best of what one has, whether it's the body political or the body personal.'