Beside him Margaret said, 'There have been so many things lately, and so few moments we've had alone.' 'I know.' He reached out and held her hand. As if the gesture had unleashed words held back: 'Is it worth it all? Haven't you done enough?' Margaret Howden spoke quickly, aware of the journey's shortness, knowing that it was a few minutes drive only between their own house and the Governor General's residence. In a minute or two more this moment of warmth and closeness would be gone. 'We've been married forty-two years, Jamie, and most of that time I've had just a part of you. There isn't all that much of life that's left.'

'It hasn't been easy for you, has it?' He spoke quietly, genuinely. Margaret's words had moved him.

'No; not always.' There was a note of uncertainty. It was an entangled subject, something they spoke of rarely.

'There will be time, I promise you. If other things…' He stopped, remembering the imponderables about the future which the past two days had brought.

'What other things?'

'There's one more task. Perhaps the biggest I've had.'

She withdrew her hand. 'Why does it have to be you?'

It was impossible to answer. Even to Margaret, privy to so many of his thoughts, he could never mouth his innermost conviction: because there is no one else; no other with my stature, with intellect and foresight to make the great decisions soon to come.

'Why you?' Margaret said again.

They had entered the grounds of Government House. Rubber crunched on gravel. In the darkness, parkland rolled away on either side.

Momentarily he had a sharp sense of guilt about his relationship with Margaret. She had always accepted political life loyally, even though never enjoying it as he did himself. But he had long sensed her hope that one day he would abandon politics so that they could become closer again, as in the early years.