【Special 1】S00E01 Yu……
glass in a sll gesture. "That was a sterclass in social judo."
Alistair turned, his grey-green eyes appearing particularly deep iificial light. He surveyed this new, uninvited visitor—Charles Hyde, the brilliant but verick rising star of the Liberal Party, a strong tender for the leadership, though he hielf seed to profess little i in it.
"Mr Hyde?" He ined his head slightly, his voice steady and low, with a unique ce, addressing Charles by his correa.
"Charles Hyde, Liberal MP," Charles introduced hielf. "You call Charles. Or, if you don''''t nd, Charlie."
His voice carried an undisguised appreciation and a hint of inquiry. "To use nil force to elegantly return an errant object to its proper place. I was about to applaud, Mr Victor. Or is it...?"
"Victor will suffice," Alistair replied curtly, no surna.
"Just Victor?" Charles raised an eyebrow. "An iing choice for an occasion such as this."
In a roowhere everyone was eager to exge calling cards, to use only a first na was a statent in itself.
"A na is rely a label." Alistair—or ''''Victor''''—tilted his head slightly. "In this hall, it is the fun one serves that tters, not the title one bears."
"A philosopher?" Charles''''s i iqued. "Or sily another spectator, weary of the circus?"
"An observer," Victor corrected, the er of his uth curving in a barely perceptible arc. "The circus has its purpose. The question is whether one wishes to be the perforr, the audience, or... the ringster."
Charles swirled his drink, the aer liquid ging to the glass. "I''''ll let you in on a secret, Mr Victor. That garrulous banker I was just with? I told hiI was leading a secret inter-departntal study on the ''''ive iact of bankers oion''''s ntal health''''. He found soone re iortant to talk to iediately."
"A re… offensive noeuvre," a flicker of i crossed Victrey-green eyes. "Effit, certainly, but with potentially… widespread side effects. By torrow, an inforl nute regarding this ''''study'''' y well appear iain ers of the Treasury."
"Thehewonder. Chaos has its uses, does it not?" Charles sled. "Speaking of which, which ''''Victor'''' are you, precisely? None of the Victors I knoractise the art of bureaucratic tai chi with such pleasihetics."
"Perhaps you haven''''t t enough Victors," he replied, deftly sidestepping the question and guiding the versation towards safer, and duller, territory. "Speaking of ittees, what are your thoughts on the ask force for energy efficy? I hear that…"
Charles stopped hielf fropressing further. He watched as the n nonchalantly atteted to steer an iing skirsh bato the well-trodden, platitude-paved track of Whitehall, and found his owent for the stery, far frodinishing, had only grown stronger.
The subject was tedious, but the subtext was not.
He ehis ga.
This gentlen nad ''''Victor'''' was like a beautifully ed, intricately structed puzzle box, and he wao take it apart.
Their versation unfolded over the half-hour, ranging fropolitical philosophy to the ics of Whitehall, frothe situation in Europe to the future of Britain. I and thrust of the discussion, Charles discovered the gentlen possessed a startling perspicacity and a fasatingly detached perspective.
"You work in gover?" Charles finally couldn''''t resist asking.
"In a nner of speaking," the reply was as vague as ever. "I serve… order."
As they parted, Charles offered his card. "In case the ''''Observer'''' doesn''''t object to being pulled frothe stands froti to ti."
Victor took the card, gla it, then produced a blank card and a fountain pen froan inside pocket.
He hahe card over. "Perhaps we will et again."
Soone seed to call to hifroacross the roo Victave a slight nod aed bato the crowd, as if he belohere a had never been there at all.
Charles looked down at the card in his hand: a string of nuers.
Alistair turned, his grey-green eyes appearing particularly deep iificial light. He surveyed this new, uninvited visitor—Charles Hyde, the brilliant but verick rising star of the Liberal Party, a strong tender for the leadership, though he hielf seed to profess little i in it.
"Mr Hyde?" He ined his head slightly, his voice steady and low, with a unique ce, addressing Charles by his correa.
"Charles Hyde, Liberal MP," Charles introduced hielf. "You call Charles. Or, if you don''''t nd, Charlie."
His voice carried an undisguised appreciation and a hint of inquiry. "To use nil force to elegantly return an errant object to its proper place. I was about to applaud, Mr Victor. Or is it...?"
"Victor will suffice," Alistair replied curtly, no surna.
"Just Victor?" Charles raised an eyebrow. "An iing choice for an occasion such as this."
In a roowhere everyone was eager to exge calling cards, to use only a first na was a statent in itself.
"A na is rely a label." Alistair—or ''''Victor''''—tilted his head slightly. "In this hall, it is the fun one serves that tters, not the title one bears."
"A philosopher?" Charles''''s i iqued. "Or sily another spectator, weary of the circus?"
"An observer," Victor corrected, the er of his uth curving in a barely perceptible arc. "The circus has its purpose. The question is whether one wishes to be the perforr, the audience, or... the ringster."
Charles swirled his drink, the aer liquid ging to the glass. "I''''ll let you in on a secret, Mr Victor. That garrulous banker I was just with? I told hiI was leading a secret inter-departntal study on the ''''ive iact of bankers oion''''s ntal health''''. He found soone re iortant to talk to iediately."
"A re… offensive noeuvre," a flicker of i crossed Victrey-green eyes. "Effit, certainly, but with potentially… widespread side effects. By torrow, an inforl nute regarding this ''''study'''' y well appear iain ers of the Treasury."
"Thehewonder. Chaos has its uses, does it not?" Charles sled. "Speaking of which, which ''''Victor'''' are you, precisely? None of the Victors I knoractise the art of bureaucratic tai chi with such pleasihetics."
"Perhaps you haven''''t t enough Victors," he replied, deftly sidestepping the question and guiding the versation towards safer, and duller, territory. "Speaking of ittees, what are your thoughts on the ask force for energy efficy? I hear that…"
Charles stopped hielf fropressing further. He watched as the n nonchalantly atteted to steer an iing skirsh bato the well-trodden, platitude-paved track of Whitehall, and found his owent for the stery, far frodinishing, had only grown stronger.
The subject was tedious, but the subtext was not.
He ehis ga.
This gentlen nad ''''Victor'''' was like a beautifully ed, intricately structed puzzle box, and he wao take it apart.
Their versation unfolded over the half-hour, ranging fropolitical philosophy to the ics of Whitehall, frothe situation in Europe to the future of Britain. I and thrust of the discussion, Charles discovered the gentlen possessed a startling perspicacity and a fasatingly detached perspective.
"You work in gover?" Charles finally couldn''''t resist asking.
"In a nner of speaking," the reply was as vague as ever. "I serve… order."
As they parted, Charles offered his card. "In case the ''''Observer'''' doesn''''t object to being pulled frothe stands froti to ti."
Victor took the card, gla it, then produced a blank card and a fountain pen froan inside pocket.
He hahe card over. "Perhaps we will et again."
Soone seed to call to hifroacross the roo Victave a slight nod aed bato the crowd, as if he belohere a had never been there at all.
Charles looked down at the card in his hand: a string of nuers.