Catalyst (45 page)

Tom closed the door, not waiting for an answer.

CHAPTER 16

The funeral of Irene Holland attracted over 800 mourners, almost half of whom were from the estate. In addition, around fifty or sixty members of the press were present, all respectfully inconspicuous. The Meadow Village church, St Mary's, could accommodate around 150 at a squeeze. The remainder stood reverently outside listening to the service over the loudspeakers organised by Tony Dobson at Fred's request.

Tony himself, like Tom, was there as a friend and not in his work capacity. In the end, Mags had travelled to the village with Tom, via Westbourne Avenue, where she had spent an hour at the apartment whilst Tom attended an early meeting with his local constituency team. They spent the day under a veneer of shared politeness, an unspoken cease-fire, in deference to the business of the day rather than any mutual empathy. Anyway, they both decided – privately – it was better than the exertions of continuous battle.

They chatted with many of the people – almost all of whom were Tom's constituents – after the funeral. There was only a brief opportunity to speak to George himself, and they politely declined his invitation to attend the wake at the Church Hall.

The journey back to Etherington Place passed in silence, but this time out of respect for two very nice people – one deceased, one bereaved. Other people's anguish often serves to put one's own problems into perspective, and so it seemed that afternoon. As Tom and Mags parted, they exchanged a brief kiss – hesitant, but tender and gentle all the same.

The funerals, four in all, of the rest of the direct and indirect victims of that fateful Saturday took place during the first half of the week following Irene's. Those for Alistair Neville and Emily Burton at St Mary's were relatively modest affairs, attended by their families and other villagers. In Alistair's case, the mourners included his brother Ben, in a hi-tech hospital chair, accompanied by two nurses and a complex collection of tubes and wires to assist with his breathing and feeding, and for monitoring his vital indicators. Denzel Jones's funeral was also essentially a private event.

The Enderbys' was very different.

Hundreds of people lined the streets of Cullen Field as the cavalcade of three hearses – the brothers' coffins lying heart-wrenchingly side by side in the third vehicle – took the family from their home in Dewsbury Close to All Saints Church near the centre of the estate. Jo Cottrell was present, accompanied by David Gerrard, Geoff Drury and Judy Standitch. George Holland was among the mourners as was Tom Brown, who had attended all three previous funerals, subsequent to Irene's, in a semi-official capacity. His was a feeling of relief that this depressing sequence was over, as he left the still thronging crowd at around noon for Westminster to be present for Prime Minister's Questions. The morning had been unseasonably cold, dark and wet; a suitable backdrop for the final act of such a dreadful series of tragedies.

Except, it was not quite the final act.

After the public's overwhelming endorsement of their leaked plans, Andrew had ceremoniously torn up his prepared denial. It was a hollow and over-dramatic gesture, Tom and Jackie agreed afterwards, given that the document was set in e-concrete on his hard-drive. Eight days after the leak, Jackie gave an exceptional performance in the House, presenting the main points of the official version of the Opposition's proposals at the scheduled debate on urban development.

The following day, Friday 23
^rd
July, the House started its summer recess. Before they went their separate ways, Andrew, Tom and Jackie, along with Grace, met in the Shadow Cabinet room in the Palace of Westminster.

“Well, with apologies to Richard the Third,” said Andrew, “I think that ‘now is the summer of our content.' All the more satisfying, I would suggest, because Gormley and Co will be agonising over this oil supply crisis. Almost makes you believe in God, doesn't it? Only worry is we get recalled to help them out.”

“And what will you be doing?” asked Tom. “Where has Isobel decided you'll be taking her on holiday?”

Andrew smiled benignly at Tom, not allowing anything to spoil his mood. “Probably a private beach somewhere, at a very expensive hotel. As long as I can relax and read, I don't really care. I think I'll take Jackie's speech from yesterday with me. It doesn't get much better than that.”

He smiled across at the Shadow Home Secretary. Grace cleared her throat expressively, and the two women exchanged frosty glances. Andrew seemed to be enjoying himself, “Anyway,” he said, “I think we can all be pleased with our efforts over the past few months. I won't delay you.”

He rose to his feet, prompting the others to do likewise.

“Could I just borrow you for a minute, Grace?” he said.

Tom and Jackie left together.

On the Monday of the first week of the summer recess, both George Holland and Tom Brown separately requested a meeting with John Deverall. The meetings were scheduled for two days later, on the Wednesday, with one immediately following the other. Jad was dressed formally in shirt and jacket, and was wearing a tie, normally not allowed in such circumstances. He was taken from his quarters to a small, windowless meeting room with bare white-washed walls and ceiling, and a metal floor. It contained only a table and two chairs facing each other across it, all three items secured to the floor with steel brackets. He noted when he was left to await his first visitor that the room door was locked but no-one remained outside. He had an eerie feeling of being totally abandoned, as he listened to the receding metallic footsteps.

The man who stood before him when the door opened again was much smaller than he expected. He had only seen pictures of George's face and the occasional head-and-shoulders, and his assumption regarding the man's stature, he realised, had been moulded by his massive impact on the national stage.

Jad stood and stretched out his hand as the visitor entered and walked over to the chair opposite him. He looked pale, thin and drawn compared to his pictures in the press taken during his tour. They held the handshake for several moments, neither man speaking as if each was in awe of the other. The silence was broken by the voice of the guard.

“Thirty minutes.”

He closed the door, leaving it unlocked.

Jad waved his free hand to the chair, inviting George to be seated, and breaking the silence as he did so.

“Thank you so much for coming, George,” he said. “It means a lot, you thinking of me at this awful time. I am so sorry about your wife. I can't… ” His voice tailed off as the words failed him, choked by sympathy and the memory of his own bereavement just a few months earlier.

“Thank you, John. I know you lost your mother recently. You must still be hurting from that.”

Jad nodded, and they sat in silence for a half a minute or so, each absorbed with his own grief.

“I just felt I had to meet you,” said George, at last. “I guess I should be thanking you for seeing me.”

“Well, you were very lucky,” Jad replied. “When you asked, I'd just got a slot in my appointments calendar – a late cancellation – that allowed me to squeeze you in… ”

Both men laughed and the atmosphere changed instantly.

“I promised myself,” said George, smiling, “that I would not ask you anything to do with how you came to be two people. But, seeing as how I'm here and consumed with curiosity, I might just give it a go… ”

“Don't even think about it,” said Jad, smiling back. “Just one person now – John Deverall.”

There were a few more moments of silence, relaxed this time.

“I guess my main reason for coming was to ask a favour,” said George, becoming more serious. “You spoke so passionately in court on the subject that I guess you know I desperately believe in; the same topic that I've been talking about myself for the past couple of months. It just seemed right that you and I should get to know each other. I believe – I
know
– there is a massive will for change across the country – for looking after the good guy, for protecting the little people. You're the one who kick-started that, John, and I have to make sure that it happens – I have to – I promised Irene that I would. I mean, I promised myself
for
her after she… ” He hesitated, losing his thread briefly with the emotion. “So I guess we're a sort of team, and if what has happened – these terrible events – ultimately leads to something better, then there's some consolation in that, isn't there?” The inflection on the last two words made it into a genuine question, as if he were searching for assurance.

Jad nodded, but George continued before he could speak.

“What I want to do is get as many people as I can, committed to the cause – to voting in this New Justice Regime. Because that's what the vote is – what's coming up next year is a referendum, not an election. It's the people voting for a revolution – for kicking out the bad guys – not for a new government. Right now, just that one thing is enough.

“I might have the chance – probably
will
have the chance now, after the leak and then the official confirmation of the proposals a week ago – to reach around forty percent of voters through this retirement web-com system. If I can get them aligned, into like a block vote, then we can virtually carry this election ourselves. Any day now I think I'll get confirmation to go ahead, and then… well, who knows?”

“Wow,” said Jad. “You said something about a favour, but I'm not sure why you need me, or anyone for that matter. You seem to have everything sorted out. That's a point, actually. Isn't it in the bag already? From what I read and hear in the press, there doesn't seem to be anyone actually against this NJR. Nobody who's speaking out, anyway.”

“Not at the moment, but right now we're fifteen months off voting for it. That period might be reduced, but there'll still be plenty of time for things to change. For a start, there are a lot of human rights issues for the campaigners to get their teeth in to. I reckon they're just riding out this initial wave of euphoria, and waiting for their moment. I'm not even sure how it will sit with European Law. It seems to fall outside the provisions of at least Articles 3 and 6 of the Human Rights Convention, maybe others as well. This could be just bravado by Donald and Hewlett; they might not be sure they can deliver; might be just jumping on the bandwagon. But if nearly half the electorate are rock solid behind the proposals, they'll have to implement them – they'll have to keep their promise.

“But… there's an oil crisis just round the corner. People's priorities will shift very quickly if we get into power cuts and rationing. This government could still save themselves if they deal with that really well – to everyone's satisfaction. I just want belt and braces… ”

“… and string and elastic,” put in Jad.

“… and staples and super-glue,” said George, smiling and relaxing again, drawing breath at last.