“I’d like to turn on the radio,” Nwankwo said suddenly. He was like a nervous general awaiting news from the front.

Jacques obeyed without asking questions. First they heard the sound of a popular song, a glittering trifle totally unsuited to the occasion, almost disturbing in its frivolity. Jacques tuned through the airwaves searching for news, until he eventually found a crackling channel on which you could hear the sounds of demonstrators’ shouts, people jostling one another, hooting and barracking, songs and revolutionary slogans.

“What’s going on?” Lira cried.

“Listen!” Nwankwo said, not understanding what was being said any more than she did. He looked questioningly at Félix, who nodded and raised a triumphant thumb. A journalist was speaking live from the middle of the crowd. He was outside the Palace of Versailles, said he was awaiting the hurried departure of the President of France. He ended his report after a minute.

“Bingo! They’re in the shit!” said Félix.

“What’s happening?” Lira insisted.

“Well, Lira,” Nwankwo began, rather solemnly, “I didn’t tell you anything because nothing was certain, and I didn’t want you to be disappointed again. There’s a kid I know in Lagos who’s put everything we know on Twitter. He’s sending out a scoop every fifteen minutes. So it’s all going belly-up at the dinner in Versailles. They all know now – all the media people, all the politicians all over the world – they all know what sort of a man Louchsky is.”

“You mean—”

“I mean they know about the French Minister’s kickbacks! They know he has blood on his hands! They know about Grind Bank’s money-laundering activities!”

Sometimes these things leave you speechless – huge pieces of news, a final revenge or a too-long-awaited miracle. Lira sat frozen on her chair, letting Nwankwo’s words wash over her, trying to imagine this magic thread that was sending their secrets from Africa to the Versailles dinner tables. Nwankwo went over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder, a simple but deeply tender gesture – was it the night they had spent together that allowed it, or just this hard-won victory? Perhaps both. “He’ll pay dearly for what he did to you, the world will know him for what he is,” he murmured.

 

At the other end of the table, Félix was explaining to the judge and to Jacques and his wife what was happening. But he watched Lira from the corner of his eye, imagining the thoughts going through her head. He wanted to laugh, and above all he wanted to see her laugh.

“When I think that Finley must be plunging his fish knife into the British Prime Minister’s back!”

“So you knew?” Lira said.

“A little. But not everything. I tell you, Nwankwo’s a solo player. Brilliant work Nwankwo!”

And he raised his glass, erasing all traces of their earlier quarrel in London. He cursed out loud at this house with its lack of Internet and its wind turbine. They could have watched their victory spreading like wildfire. Jacques just laughed. His wife offered him some more roast lamb.

“Just do what I do, use your imagination!” Lira retorted. She was a little drunk now.

Polina kept looking towards the door in the hope that her father might reappear. She smiled at her mother’s happiness, kissed her and let herself be kissed, but she always remained a little apart, on the edge of the story. The judge, too, was simply observing the scene, but from another angle, that of the older generation. He was like an artisan watching his particular skill becoming redundant. That evening he had no regrets about leaving the law courts – justice was taking a different route now. Jacques and his wife saw to it that plates were laden and glasses filled; their eyes shone with pride at the fact that they were sheltering this scarred, united and fearless group, but they felt a cloud of anxiety, too, as they saw how vulnerable the lives of those assembled around their table were. Nwankwo, Lira and Félix formed a unified block in the eyes of the others, linked together by all those days they had spent together poring over figures, the fear, the doubts they had had about one another – it had all added up to a secret and unique experience that only they could understand.