Esprit de Corps: Sketches from Diplomatic Life

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I like Antrobus. I can’t really say why — I think it is because he takes everything so frightfully seriously. He is portentous — always dropping into a whisper, clicking his tongue, making a po-face, pursing his lips, turning the palms of his hand outwards and making “what-would-you” gestures.

We’ve served together in a number of foreign capitals, he as a regular of the career, I as a contract officer: which explains why he is now a heavily padded senior in Southern while I am an impoverished writer. Nevertheless, whenever I’m in London he gives me lunch at his club and we talk about the past — those happy days passed in foreign capitals “lying abroad” for our country.

“The Ghost Train episode”, said Antrobus, “was a bit before your time. I only mention it because I can think of nothing which illustrates the peculiar hazards of Diplomatic Life so well. In fact it throws them into Stark Relief.

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