The reason why Mr Major and the rest of us were invited aboard was presidential guilt. Mr Clinton had disreputably awarded Gerry Adams a US visa, and was trying to make up for it. It was like no other journey any of us had made. Air Force One is like an enormous and hugely expensive penthouse flat, with bedrooms, bathrooms, offices and expensively appointed drawing rooms, the prevailing colour of which is beige. There are no rows of seats of the sort one expects in an aeroplane. But by every armchair there was a telephone, so we could ring up whom we wished, anywhere in the world. At the end of the flight, we were given a pack of Air Force One playing cards as a souvenir.