There are times when the air seems to stand still. You get a phone call and a voice you believe says: "There's going to be a deal." Another person you trust says, with no hint of irony, "Hold the front page." From shortly before 5.30 p.m. yesterday, the torpor in the press tent began to be disturbed as news seeped in that business was being done and hands were being spat on and slapped together in Castle Buildings.
Tony and Bertie had done it, we were told, especially the Prime Minister, who had worked most industriously on the unionists. The initial reaction was sceptical. Too many false dawns had broken since we gathered in the media village last Monday. Now a little older, a lot more tired and not necessarily any wiser, the press corps was not too easily persuaded that at last the promised land was in sight.
But there was a deal, albeit with caveats. According to the initial word, not only was a failsafe device on decommissioning included in the package, there was a failsafe on the package itself. The UUP leaders were happy, it was said, but would imitate Gerry Adams on Good Friday by saying they had to go and sell it.
That might not be easy. There would be dissidents, reports of meetings and cabals, politicians from both factions performing operatics. There would be all the cabaret that accompanies those moments when political movements are shifting on their axes.
The previous evening, things had not looked promising. Minus their ties, Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness emerged from a meeting with the Ulster Unionists spitting fire. Everyone else had umbrellas or raincoats, but the Sinn Fein group stood bareheaded in their jackets, shoulders back, hardly noticing the raindrops that kept falling on their heads as Mr Adams execrated the unionists.
But even as Sinn Fein appeared to indicate the process was "going down the tubes", word was also coming through that all was not lost. A deal could still be on the cards. The unionists were nibbling. They were comfortable that if the "Shinners" went back on their word there would be sanctions. Tony Blair had sold the Assembly party on that.
Next day, Gen de Chastelain's report finally arrived. Sinn Fein had already revealed the party's hand on decommissioning the night before. More attention was focusing on what the two governments would come up with. We had been told to expect a paper from them called The Way Forward. Had Bertie forgotten that this was the title of a Fianna Fail manifesto in the 1980s, or was that his own private little stroke?
The governments were prepared to accept Sinn Fein's good faith on the weapons issue, but would that, allied to Gen de Chastelain's document, be enough for Mr Trimble and his people?
A dissident unionist claimed the Assembly team was not for turning and the Prime Minister was getting "angrier and angrier". The focus of his anger was not Sinn Fein, who for once were the goody-goodies in the eyes of both governments this week.
No, his ire was directed against recalcitrant unionists who failed to see where their best advantage lay. For heaven's sake, they could have recognition of Northern Ireland's constitutional position and the prospect of the republican movement setting aside its weapons after 200 years and all they had to do was give ministerial portfolios to Martin McGuinness and Bairbre de Brun.
Rumours had swept the media village during the day. One of the first to be knocked on the head was the idea of Sinn Fein being expelled from the executive if decommissioning failed to take place. This elicited an eight-letter Anglo-Saxon expletive from a normally reserved government official. There was a review clause in the agreement which could be invoked if there were problems with Sinn Fein or any other party for that matter.
Papers were said to be flying around the interior of Castle Buildings like confetti. But there was more stability in the UUP's Assembly team than previously. They were described as "reasonably stable" and in fact somewhat more relaxed than their leader at the prospect of a deal.
Tony Blair had reassured them with his undertaking that there was no free lunch for Sinn Fein. Decommission or you don't stay in government - that was the policy according to the Prime Minister. But it was down to Trimble. The people around him were looking to the leader.
Meanwhile, there was concern in the Sinn Fein constituency. Although sneered at by some, the language on decommissioning was very strong, much stronger than many had expected. "Some of the rank and file are certainly not happy," sources said.
Sinn Fein's leaders were also upset. Was Tony Blair going to lay it on the line to Trimble? There had been enough pussyfooting. Sinn Fein wanted this Prime Minister to keep his date with history. As for the unionists, Sinn Fein was wondering if anything was acceptable to them. No paper on exclusion clauses had been put to Sinn Fein, sources said. The party would not sign it.
Then, suddenly, the white smoke. The Prime Minister began to tell people the deal was going to be done. The initial shape began to leak out. The ministers would be nominated. There would be devolution in short order. Gen de Chastelain would get into high gear on decommissioning and there would be a failsafe mechanism if it didn't take place.
But the parties, especially the UUP, would not have to sign up to the package right away. It was all very upbeat. There would be an agreed sequencing plan. There was confidence at the highest level in the party that the Ulster Unionist Council, supreme governing body of unionism, could be delivered.
History was on the brink of being made. Power was about to be devolved. Senior negotiators were confident there would be total decommissioning by the IRA. Republicans were satisfied that political progress had been made. If the Prime Minister had taken a firm stance from the beginning, the last year of long-drawn-out negotiations and insecurity could have been avoided.
The word coming out from a meeting of the Ulster Unionist Assembly group was that no decision had been taken. This was interpreted as good news. But the coming fortnight will be the longest in the history of Northern Ireland.