Chapter FortyThe scene at Balliol was classic. On the high table was the Master, flanked by the Prime Minister and the Captain, and on either side were the Deputy and Toby Simpson, while from the walls the commanding gaze of Curzon and the witness of the red-robed Harold Macmillan were companions. It was quite a setting, the PM mused. The Master rose, scanning the tables laid out in their customary rows. He began, emphasising expansively the honour that they felt in hosting such an historical event.
‘You will notice that we have placed the Chancellors of Oxford and Cambridge at opposite ends of the high table; that, of course, is for security reasons!’ There was an immediate surge of laughter, as all the guests had been subjected to rigorous security checks. ‘In fact we are honoured to be
