Party Games (27 page)

Flipping the newspaper shut, Anthea then told her PA she didn’t wish to be disturbed so she and her team could thrash out a draft speech for the Cornish vote. She needed to take her mind off things, and it worked, for a few hours at least.  The Labour rebels were gathering pace, the Secretary of State was openly furious and civil war within the Labour Party seemed inevitable.  Fantastic news for Anthea and her team, but that meant being prepared.

            Jack Fisher had been more obliging and conciliatory than Anthea could have hoped for during their initial telephone call, buoying her mood significantly, and it very much seemed that a deal over the vote, including a Richmond-sponsored Motion calling for a referendum was very much on the cards.  Anthea’s team would hope to seal such a deal within the next day, placing her firmly back in charge of the policy.             

Having done a decent morning’s work, Anthea was ready for lunch and a catch-up with her friend Linda Cheeser.  Exactly what she would confide in her she wasn’t sure, she was very much aware of Linda’s delicate political position.  It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Linda, far from it, she was discreet and understood sensitivities, but she was married to the Party Chairman and it would be understandably unnatural for her to keep secrets from him.  On the other hand, she desperately needed someone from whom to seek advice.  David Fryer was spreading all kinds about Tristan and her concern was growing.

            But by the time she had arrived at the Cheeser’s welcoming London home, littered with Lego and toy cars, the smell of washing powder and coffee drifting under her nose, she had begun to relax. 

“It’s been too long!  God, we haven’t gossiped for months!”  Linda smiled, kissing Anthea’s cheek.  Anthea returned the greeting enthusiastically, hugging her friend as best she could with a large bump in the way. 

            “Look at you!  You look great.”  Anthea said.  “Can’t be much longer now.”

            Linda rolled her eyes but laughed. “No, only a few months. I can’t believe how quickly the time’s going.  If I’ve not been visiting the doctor I’ve been
being
the doctor, then there’s George!  I’m just so thankful for Charlotte, the new nanny!  Anyway, come through, I’m so glad we decided to lunch here instead of the public show that would be the Village.  Now we can have a decent chat away from prying eyes, and you can tell me
everything
.  I’ve been out the loop for months and months, Jeremy tells me only some things, but that’s men for you.”

It wasn’t until after a lunch of smoked salmon blinis and bruschetta that Linda sat Anthea down with a cappuccino and a large slice of cake and asked her the inevitable.

“We’ve been talking about everyone else up to now, but not you.  How are you?  I’ve seen the
Bulletin
today, and I hope to God you’re ignoring it.”  Linda said sourly.

This wasn’t particularly an invitation for Anthea to discuss the fact her workload was huge, or that she was stressed about impending vote.  She sipped her sweet coffee slowly.  Anthea hadn’t even told her friend about Ben, but already that seemed a distant memory.  Although she and Tristan were the subject of rumour, the words were to be spoken for the first time straight from her own mouth.  Sighing, Anthea told Linda everything.  She may have been the Chairman’s wife, but she felt she had nobody else to turn to.

“Tristan Rivers?”  Linda exclaimed, her hand shooting over her mouth.  “Really?  I had no idea he was still single, but wow Anthea.  I hope I should be pleased for you, if you want me to be?”

A sheepish smile crept across Anthea’s lips. “Yes, I think I do.  We get on really well, I haven’t felt this way about anyone for a long, long time.”

 “How long’s it been going on?” Linda asked, her eyes wide with a need for answers.

 “Since he resigned.”  Anthea said.  “Early days, so we want to keep it quiet.  You’re the first person to find out.  To everyone else it’s unsubstantiated rumour thanks to David Fryer.  Still, makes a change from Rodney and me, I suppose.”

“Not long, then!  You just taking it slow with him?”  Linda gave her a knowing glance.

Anthea looked shocked.  “Linda!  How nosey of you!”

“Oh, you have!  You dark horse, Anthea Culverhouse!  I’ve only ever met him a few times; he is quite dashing, if a little short for my taste.  I’ve a thing for tall men, as you will have noticed.  What a whirlwind romance, though.  It took me ages to even bother noticing Jeremy, let alone anything else!”

“Tristan’s so exciting and so enigmatic, but that’s the thing, really.  There’s a fly in the ointment.”  Anthea shook her head.  She was going out of her mind and all the colleagues she trusted the most were Richmond loyalists.  Linda was the only friend who could possibly understand her predicament, hovering somewhere between being on the inside and the outside of politics.  She was a wonderfully objective thinker.    “There’s not just one rumour flying round about Tristan, the other is far more…serious.  I’m not sure what I’m going to do, if it’s true.”

Linda nodded.  “Jeremy mentioned to me something about, well, a disloyal feeling within the party which goes beyond just Colin Scott up to his usual tricks.  Although it’s got sod all to do with him, Rodney won’t like you seeing Tristan.”  Anthea assumed Linda didn’t wish to venture any further and she decided not to press her friend on what she did or didn’t know.  The last thing she wished to do was make Linda choose between loyalty to her husband and loyalty to her friend. She had heard that David Fryer was spending his time chasing members of the Shadow Cabinet to warn them, ‘privately’, about a potential Rivers challenge.  It all wreaked of Colin Scott.

Anthea carefully explained the delicacy of her situation.

  “D’you think he’s capable of it? Tristan, I mean?”  Linda asked.

“No, I don’t think so.”  Anthea lowered her eyes to her hands.  “I just couldn’t...couldn’t contemplate the consequences.”

*****

Jeremy decided it was best to change his suit; Rodney’s disapproving looks had told him enough.  He leapt into the waiting Prius at the Commons, a clutch of policy papers under one arm, his BlackBerry occupying his free hand.  He acknowledged his driver, Albert, with a distracted smile, but felt he owed him an apology.

            “So sorry about this, I know this was unexpected, but I need to change.”  He explained, flipping idly through a document.

            “It’s ok by me, ser, that’s what I’m ‘ere for.”  Albert said, more than a hint of Liverpudlian to his accent. He pulled the vehicle away with a quiet hum and glanced in the mirror.  “You don’t need spectacles, do yer, ser?”

            Jeremy cleared his throat, lowering the paper which was a few inches from his nose.  “Er, no, the print’s just so small, that’s all.”  He said weakly, knowing Albert’s observation was probably correct.  His brother and parents had worn glasses for as long as he could remember, so was probably only a matter of time.  He sighed heavily. 

            “Not ‘avin’ a good day?  You don’ have to tell me, although I reckon us northerners need to stick together.  I just wondered whether you’d heard wha’ I just heard from one of me colleagues?  What she saw just happen to Martin Arnold in one of the dinin’ rooms?  If you think
you’ve
had a bad day...he’ll definitely ‘ave to go home to change!”  Albert shook his head and a whistle passed through his teeth.  “He’s screwed up good an’ proper, that fella.”

            Suddenly the documents seemed unimportant.  Jeremy shook his head, slackening his seatbelt so he could lean forward.  “No, I haven’t heard anything.  What happened?”

            “Well,” Albert began, obviously relishing the opportunity to gossip.  “She’d just been to the Terrace, for a bacon butty like, an’ she was on her way back when she went past the dinin’ room and saw whatsername, Arnold’s wife, emptyin’ a whole bottle ‘a champers all over her hubby’s ‘ead!  It went everywhere, all over ‘im, all over the carpet, the walls, and he just stood there apparently, takin’ it!”

            Jeremy blinked in disbelief.  He had no idea whether to laugh or feel abhorred.  “Good grief!  Then what happened?”

            “Apparently his wife was dead calm abou’ it, like, and he was standin’ there, drenched in champagne, everyone just starin’ at the poor fella.  She said to him somethin’ like ‘now yer know what humiliation really feels like’, gave ‘im the empty bottle and walked off!”

            Jeremy knew that the story would be all over the blogosphere before he had even arrived home.  Sarah Mortimer was obviously not the sort of woman to be trifled with and he wondered what she might do next.

The Chairman’s car eased up to the kerb outside the Cheeser’s three storey town house in South London. He had already received texts from lobby journalists about the latest Arnold ‘development’, but chose to ignore them.  He did not feel it his place to comment on what was essentially a domestic, he just wished they did it a little more privately.  Still, it was always the children one had to feel most sorry for.

Completely forgetting Linda’s lunch date with Anthea, he walked through the front door as he checked Hornby’s blog for gossip.  Immediately Jeremy paused in the doorway, aware of voices. 
Anthea.
  He crept along the hallway up to the closed living room door, muttering for forgiveness as he listened up against it. 

“If it is true, and Tristan is somehow implicated in any of Colin’s doings,” Linda shifted position on the sofa, resting a packet of biscuits on her bump. “I hate to be blunt with you but I should say it, as a friend, not the Chairman’s wife - do you think it’s wise to be involved with him?”

“But I just don’t think he is implicated.  He’s calmed down considerably since last week, he even seems happy, for want of a better word.”  Anthea said, determined to hide any doubts.

 “But Anthea, you’ll have to think of not just your heart but also your career.  Rodney is currently the only route to a Cabinet post, and you need to stick with him.”

Anthea wanted advice but Linda was being harsher than she anticipated.  “But I
am
sticking with him – even after all the Fisher stuff.”

“The worst that could happen is that Tristan contests the leadership, which let’s face it is quite unlikely, but if he
did
then, well, following your heart is very admirable but you will need to choose between your best friend and leader and the man you have feelings for.”  Linda stared at her, then said poignantly, “Unless, of course, that happens to be the same person?”

Anthea swept a hand across her blonde bob nervously.  “Oh, don’t you start!  I thought I could at least count on you not to turn into Fergus McDermott on me!”

“I’m sorry.”  Linda said, but a sympathetic smile crept across her lips.  “You know what Rodney’s like, he’ll never tell you himself.  Intelligent bloke, PM material definitely, and he’s pretty yummy, not that I’d tell Jeremy I thought that,” Linda winked naughtily.

Behind the door, Jeremy frowned.

“But Rodney really is a total stuffed shirt when he’s not in front of the cameras.”  Linda munched into her fourth Digestive.  Anthea found it comforting to be with a woman who actually dropped crumbs. “He loves you, Anthea.  Even soulless ice-maidens like Jenny Lambert can see it.”

 “I love him too,
but as a friend
.  I will remain loyal to Rodney as long as he needs, but my feelings are growing for Tristan.  And now with the Cornish vote creeping up, the pressure’s really on.  Tristan just makes everything...well, seem right, I suppose.  I’m not sure I’d be happy without him.”  Anthea surprised herself.  Realisation washed over her.  She was falling in love, and it wasn’t with Rodney Richmond.

“You can’t have it all, Anthea.”  Linda said firmly in a tone that suggested ‘friend knows best’. Anthea felt her euphoria slip horribly away.  “This is what happens when you mix business with pleasure.  If Tristan has leadership ambition of his own and the rumours are true, then you’re going to have to break someone’s heart.  You want my advice, stick with Rodney, and nothing romantic.  He might not be thrilling, but you just might find yourself Home Secretary.”  The growing distress on her friend’s face caused Linda to reach out and take her hand.

“You can’t afford to be stuck in the middle, otherwise you’ll end up with nothing.  Make your decision, and fast.  My husband has amazing political instinct and it’s not often he’s wrong.”

Suddenly they heard a bleeping from behind the door and a harsh “oh, shoot!”  Linda struggled up and flung the door open, a cross look on her face as she realised instantly her husband had been eavesdropping.  She challenged him with angry eyes but his gaze locked with Anthea’s and at that point the two women knew.  He had heard enough.

Thirteen

Tuesday evening

“Just remember, if you back out now then your whole sorry life is going to be splashed all over the papers!”

            Colin Scott’s threatening words, ringing out in his high voice, played over in Tristan’s mind as he headed towards the Victoria Tower gardens where he was to meet Anthea.  Tristan felt in no position to negotiate with the Deputy Leader; he felt useless and far more of a hindrance than a help to the woman he had fallen so desperately in love with.  Liaising in the darkness of the gardens, overlooking the moonlit Thames, rather than anywhere inside Parliament or the surrounding bars, was for the best.  He was conscious they would be watched everywhere and their houses would be particular targets; the whispering would only escalate until it exploded onto the front pages.

He couldn’t tell Anthea anything.  She would panic, ask him too many questions and he would be forced to reveal far more truth about himself than he was willing.   The shame he felt about everything, his weakness, his treatment of Nicole, would devastate her. No, although this way would hurt for a while, he would make sure she despised him.  She needed to be pushed far away from him, drive her firmly back into Richmond’s camp – and into his arms, if that was the consequence of sacrifice. Tristan would take the blame for his alliance with Scott so she wasn’t implicated.  It was the hardest thing he would ever have had to do in his life, apart from his decision to abandon his fight for Daniel.  Nicole had driven a hard bargain, but it had meant his shameful past had stayed, up to now, where it belonged. He now knew what he must do to stop Colin, to try to make amends for everything.  This was the first step.