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expertise.’
    Giordano had recovered his cool. He smiled and said, ‘Minister, I think that’s a splendid idea. We’ve taken a few patients in the past when approached, but I think I can safely say we would have no objection to taking a few more. It’s always good publicity for us.’
    ‘Good. I think our friend here should be pleased with that too,’ said Bannon, looking towards the Labour councillor.
    The man shrugged and said, ‘If I had my way we’d be taking over the whole damn shebang and using it for the good of all the people.’
    ‘And running it on hot air, no doubt,’ said Bannon.
    ‘Anything else?’ asked Giordano.
    ‘One last thing,’ said Bannon. The room fell silent again. ‘We would like to have one of our people on-site, as it were. A sort of overseer of things in general.’
    ‘Another public relations exercise?’ asked Giordano quietly.
    ‘You could say that,’ agreed Bannon. ‘Our man would be here to monitor the prudent application of taxpayers’ money.’
    ‘An accountant?’
    ‘More than that. We would like him to have access to all aspects of the hospital’s administration, including files and records.’
    ‘Are you suggesting this man should have some kind of executive authority?’ asked Giordano.
    ‘No executive authority,’ said Bannon. ‘Just cooperation from you and the staff.’
    ‘In that case, I don’t see a problem.’
    ‘Good,’ said Bannon.
    ‘Do you have someone in mind for this role?’ asked Giordano.
    Bannon gestured towards Steven Dunbar and said, ‘Dr Dunbar would be our man on the ground.’
    Dunbar smiled and nodded. He watched the reaction of the Médic Ecosse people: their smiles were uncertain.
    ‘So there we have it,’ said Bannon. ‘The big question now is, do we have a basis for agreement?’
    There were no dissenting voices, but everyone knew how much now depended on James Ross, and he was out of the room.
    ‘Why don’t we adjourn for lunch?’ suggested Giordano. ‘The food here is very good. I don’t think you’ll have any complaints.’
    ‘I never thought Bannon would have the balls to try something like that,’ said the man in front of Dunbar as they went out of the room.
    ‘Bloody criminal, the way they treated Ross,’ replied his companion. ‘Do you think they’re going to get away with it?’
    ‘I rather think that’s up to Ross. Without him they’re just another hospital.’
    ‘Or five-star hotel.’
    ‘D’you think he’ll resign?’
    ‘Depends on how much they’re prepared to back-pedal on the research cuts. He might feel obliged to move on as a matter of pride. It’s not as if he couldn’t work elsewhere. With his reputation he could get a position almost anywhere in the world. If you ask me, the Scottish Office are playing a losing hand here.’
    ‘No change there, then.’
    ‘I wonder why Ross came here in the first place,’ mused the first man. ‘If it’s research he’s really interested in, you’d think he’d have gone to one of the big medical schools.’
    ‘Good point,’ agreed the second.
    ‘Mind you, it could have been the food,’ said the first admiringly.
    They had reached the dining room and were looking at what was on offer. Tables groaned under the sumptuous buffet that had been prepared for them.
    * * *
     
    Lunch was over by two o’clock. The meeting was scheduled to reconvene at two thirty, and both sides used the interim to discuss matters among themselves. Dunbar picked up what he could while circulating, coffee cup in hand. He fended off questions about his proposed role with skill and humour, saying that it was too soon to talk about such things. As yet no agreement had been reached.
    As the meeting seemed set to reconvene he saw Giordano, who had been deep in conversation with Ross, move away and Bannon, looking distinctly nervous, walk over to take his place. He wondered if Bannon was beginning to have second thoughts about his intransigence. He positioned himself within