《No, Minister.(存一下英文版)》用其他笔名

25、[Interlude] S01E02.5 Cyril Astley’s Diary and Memoranda (28-31 January 1980)

　　Tuesday, 29th January, 1980 | London-Cornwall, Night Sleeper Train | Overcast with thin mist
　　Today was busier than usual.
　　I was busy checking the list of local liaison officers, confirming travel and accommodation details, and making the final preparations for the Minister's trip to Cornwall.
　　Because the Minister had an event scheduled for this evening, we could only take the night sleeper from Paddington to Penzance to ensure we arrived in Newlyn before the fishermen's seminar began tomorrow morning.
　　I packed the background materials for Cornwall, the two draft speeches, the list of emergency contacts, and other items into my briefcase—the Minister wanted to read them on the train—and double-checked all the details.
　　The DLO mechanism established at last week's IDISM meeting had also received initial feedback from various departments. I had my assistant secretary compile a summary. After reviewing it carefully and confirming there were no errors, I took the file and knocked on Sir's office door.
　　He was still at his desk, several documents open before him, the emerald ring on his left ring finger glinting in the dim light.
　　After I had given my oral briefing on the DLO, Sir asked me if I had any new observations about Cornwall.
　　I reported on the progress of today's preparations and mentioned that during a phone call with the local liaison officer this morning to confirm details, he had mentioned that the tourist board seemed to have had some informal communication with the county council regarding the use of the harbour breakwater for the seafood festival, but the specific content was unknown. I thought this was just a routine report, but Sir tilted his head slightly, his gaze deepening.
　　"Good, Cyril," he said, picking up his fountain pen and writing a few words in the margin of a report he had at hand. I wasn't sure what it meant, but I had a feeling it was not a random note.
　　In the evening, I boarded the night sleeper to Penzance with the Minister.
　　I first accompanied the Minister to his cabin and took out the background materials he needed from my briefcase.
　　It was late, but the Minister seemed in good spirits. He read the materials while chatting with me about the history of Cornwall, all the way to a peculiar local dish called 'Stargazy Pie'.
　　"The fish heads stick out of the pie crust, as if gazing at the stars. Very imaginative, isn't it? A kind of poetry in desperation," was the Minister's comment.
　　I felt he was, in his own particular way, resisting the impending pressure.
　　The night was particularly heavy. I hope tomorrow, Cornwall will not be colder than London.