Bit 2.1

The office was magnificently well-appointed. Wood-paneled throughout, the floor had a plush, deep green carpet, the downside of which was that it magnificently preserved the footsteps of anyone coming through the door to the various chairs at the meeting table, or (a slightly less well-trodden path) to the easy chair in front of the long mahogany desk. The desk itself was impressively free of clutter - a small pile of neatly arranged papers was set out on the green writing mat set before the plush, green (of course) leather padded chair.
A row of high windows lined the wall behind the chair. Each had what appeared to be a net curtain covering them, in actual fact, bomb-proof netting. In the far corner of the room, on the opposite side to the impressively-sized meeting table (again in mahogany, with fifteen spaces set around it), a comfortable, well-worn arm chair was positioned by one of the windows, with its identical twin brother facing it, looking oddly incongruous in the austere surroundings of the office. The netting had been drawn back slightly beside this chair, a strict breach of security, but then, no-one was going to take this up with the occupant of the room. From the chair, there was an uninhibited view to the park beyond, where countless hundreds - possibly thousands - of tourists and locals were enjoying the magnificent weather. Prime Minister George Humphreys was sat in the chair, letting his imagination wander over the lush grass of the park to the lakeside, an oasis of tranquility in the comparative bustle of city life.
There was a light knock on the door, followed by the head of James, his PPS, appearing around the corner. It said something about the bond between James and the Prime Minister that the former's eyes went immediately to the armchair by the window.
"The Home Secretary is here for your appointment, sir."
The Prime Minister gave an involuntary sigh and smiled at him. James entered the room carrying a refreshments tray. He laid the items out in suitable positions on the desk. As he did, the Prime Minister spoke to him.
"Thanks James. I shouldn't be too long, so you might as well start packing up and sorting things out while he's here. Going anywhere nice this year?"
"Just a little trip to our cottage in the hills sir. Try to get away from the inevitable visit by the grandchildren."
The Prime Minister chuckled " Luckily that's something I don't have to avoid...yet! Make sure you don't stay too late today though. It's been a hard year, and you deserve a rest."
"Thank you sir. I'll make sure Matthew has everything he needs to keep going while we're away."
With that, James retreated through the door. The Prime Minister lifted himself up out of the chair, and made his way wearily to the desk. He glanced through the papers in front of him, but in reality, his mind was still running across the park, heading for the tranquility of the lake. It had been a hard year and he was looking forward to a little break. And God knows, he thought, given all I've done, I think I've deserved it.
There was another, slightly more forceful knock on the door. Clearing his throat and returning to the real world, the Prime Minister invited the person to enter.