Party Games (31 page)

As Anthea waited for the Party Chairman to join her for coffee in the Atrium of Portcullis House, she spotted Tristan, striding purposefully along chatting animatedly to Derek Bradbury.  She studied him from afar as her heart rate increased and butterflies fluttered in her stomach, she simply couldn’t help it.  Her eyes were being subjected to a wonderful treat and they took in his good looks as if it were the first time.  After all he had done to her, after the deception and his emotional cruelty towards her, the feelings churning inside her were just as strong.  She knew she could never find it in her to hate him.  That emotion was reserved for others.  She hoped and prayed the rumours about him and Colin were wrong, that the man she still loved wouldn’t be so naïve to think Colin Scott would offer him anything more than a stagnant career on the backbenches.  

 “So sorry, Anthea, the world and his uncle seems to want to talk to me today.”  Jeremy said as he arrived, pocketing his mobile.  At least Anthea had had the foresight to order him an Americano. 

 “I’m not surprised, considering.”  Anthea tutted.  “What the hell was Martin
thinking
?  Running off like that, shirking his responsibilities, leaving his Association in chaos.”   

“Don’t think he
was
thinking.”  Jeremy said cynically, adding four sugars to his coffee.  “Something about difficult choices in love, like anyone gives a damn about his sordid little fling.  He’ll be sorry, and back, when he gets bored with her.”

“Of course that’s exactly what you said over at Millbank, I’m sure.”  Anthea’s glossed lips curled into a half smile and Jeremy laughed.  “Anyway, I won’t hold you up for long, Martin Arnold isn’t the only subject of interest to the British media this morning.  Bloody Cornwall, I’m sick of it all.”  Anthea rolled her eyes and the Chairman nodded in sympathy.

“Yes well, I think I owe you an apology.”  Jeremy said slowly, raising his coffee cup to his lips.  When Anthea didn’t respond, he carried on.  “I’m sorry I saw Fisher, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you on the phone on Friday night, but Rodney asked me...”

“It’s ok.”  Anthea interrupted, shrugging.  “Rodney asked you to do it, he put you in an awkward position.  It’s sorted now, we’ve done a deal, and now – well, if it wasn’t for bloody Colin...”

 “Well, that’s what I want to talk to you about - we both know it’s no coincidence, the likes of Gaines doing what he does best and suddenly talking about rebellion.”  Jeremy whispered cautiously, aware of potential eavesdroppers.  “And, I hear, somebody’s about to get the boot.”

“David Fryer?”  Anthea asked, interest rising in her hushed voice.

Jeremy nodded slowly.  “Maybe a mistake, possibly better to bring him into line than letting him go free to do what he likes on behalf of Colin, but he won’t be happy.”

 “He now seems firmly imbedded in Colin’s circle.” Anthea observed. 

 Shaking his head Jeremy pinched one of Anthea’s chocolate wafers.  “Yes, for now, but the sacrificing of others is all Colin understands.  The likes of Fryer may think he has Colin’s ear, but he’s doesn’t, not really.  Nobody does, except for Gaines.  He’s becoming his most trusted lieutenant, I hear.”

“It’s sad, it really is.”  Anthea sighed heavily.  “How he expects to claim the leadership for himself with no friends I’ve no idea.”

“He’s become a delusional, vain egomaniac. I’ve told you before, he wasn’t always like that.”  Jeremy said, a wistful air to his tone.  “I would even go so far as to say he was quite popular.  Alice was such a calming influence on him.  She was good for him, and when she died he…well, he changed.  He’s never again been the old Colin I remember. If she had lived, the old Colin would’ve beaten Rodney, but don’t tell him I said that! But the reason I asked you here is because…there are some things you should know.  About Tristan.”  Jeremy paused shifted forward in his chair.  Anthea blinked, a flash of anxious recognition across her tired face allowing her fragile guard to slip.

 “I know what you heard yesterday lunchtime, but since then...look, it’s over between us, it’s for the best.”  Anthea said flatly. 

“Yes he told me.”

Anthea shot Jeremy a worried stare.  “I’m sorry, but I didn’t realise he was going round talking about us.” 

Jeremy’s mobile began to vibrate but after frowning at the display cancelled the call.  He stalled, taking another sip of coffee.  “He’s not telling everyone, believe me.  There was a very good reason behind it.  I’m afraid Tristan’s…”  The Party Chairman paused as a troublesome Labour MP known for his big mouth sauntered past the table.  “...got himself into a…spot of bother.”

“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”  Anthea said cynically, lowering her eyes. 

“Tristan’s all part of Colin’s grand plan.”

“I knew it.”  Anthea said through a foreboding sigh.  “It had been going so well, then suddenly Tristan -” Breaking her sentence she smiled weakly.  “I can only think he did it to protect me.  From himself.”

“The moment Tristan resigned Colin wanted him to be a stalking horse.”  The Party Chairman lowered his head, and his voice.  “He wants Rodney to look an idiot over Cornwall then for Tristan to put the cat firmly among the pigeons before going for the crown himself.  You know as well as I that Fryer and company are calling the rebels to arms while Colin’s publicly distancing himself from it all.  And he’s cosied up even more to Dickenson’s little empire, every single leak in the press lately is down to him.”

Anthea frowned and shook her head.  “But I just don’t understand. Tristan knows his own mind, he wouldn’t jump because Colin’s clicked his fingers.”

 “That’s not for me to say why, I’m afraid.”  Jeremy said frankly.

“But you know?”  Anthea looked surprised, feeling hurt.  “Please, if you know why Tristan is involved, tell me.”

“I gave Tristan my word. But I don’t wish to see Rodney weakened any further by Tristan, Colin or anyone else who suddenly comes out of the woodwork to challenge him.  I intend to save Rodney’s leadership, as I’m sure you do too.”

 “Of course Rodney’s my priority.”  Anthea bowed her head gloomily.  “Maybe if I knew, I could help, convince Tristan not to go along with it all.”

The Party Chairman drained his cup.  “If the Bill is passed tomorrow because of a rebellion on our side Rodney will, I strongly suspect, call a vote of confidence before anyone throws their hat into the ring and challenges him formally.”

“A vote of confidence which he’ll win, of course.”

“Of course.  Reassert his authority.  I just thought you should be aware of Tristan’s involvement from a source you could trust.”  Jeremy said.   “All I can say is, Colin knew you and Tristan were seeing each other well before anybody else.  Tristan loves you, wants to protect you, and I think that Colin has already leaked it all to Dickenson in exchange for his paper’s support.”

“Oh, Christ.”  Anthea breathed.  “But how did he know? The complete shit.”

 “I’ve told Tristan to go along with Colin, for now. But, once McDermott inevitably calls you, I think you will be able to deal with this yourself. We are the only ones who Rodney has told.  You know what I mean.  You can stop McDermott.”  Jeremy looked at his colleague knowingly.

With a feeling of trepidation, Anthea nodded.  “It could backfire, land Rodney in it even further.” She said warily.

“I know, I know.  But you can play it cool.  McDermott will deny it all then back down, I know he will.”

 Once that call came, they both knew what Anthea would have to say.  Before either of them could speak again the silence ended abruptly as David Fryer stormed past the coffee bar looking thunderous, perpetual rage etched on his thick-set face.  A flustered young female assistant dragged at his heels and had obviously taken the brunt of his fury, but on noticing Anthea and Jeremy together Fryer crossed to their table and leant imposingly in between them.  Jeremy’s mouth fell open at the sudden unnecessary intrusion but he spoke before he or Anthea could politely discover his intentions.

            “I thought I felt my ears burning!  This is all a bloody conspiracy!”  He spat through gritted teeth, his accusing eyes glaring directly at Jeremy, who raised his eyebrows and drew breath.  “Oh don’t look so dumb, you touchy-feely lefty lot have been out to get me from the start, and I know for a fact you advised Rodney to promote Bronwyn – a
woman
– over me!”

            Fryer was incandescent with fury, oblivious and uncaring to Anthea’s obvious offence.

            “I did no such thing!  Who the Leader does and does not make Chief Whip is a matter for him and him alone!”  Jeremy hissed, acutely aware of being watched.  Scraping back his chair he stood up so he was face to face with the outgoing Deputy Chief Whip, amply matching him in height if not in width, their loyalties clear. 

“This is neither the time nor place for this discussion, David, so I, and I’m sure Anthea, would appreciate it if we continued this later!”  Jeremy met Fryer’s steely gaze.

            Fryer sneered, roughly shifting his generous weight so he knocked the table, rocking it slightly and sloshing the remainder of Anthea’s coffee into her saucer.  “This isn’t the end, you know, it’s only the beginning!  Richmond’s bloody toast and come the vote Bronwyn bloody Davies will find herself living every Chief Whip’s nightmare, the silly bitch won’t know what’s hit her!”

            “You sound like someone’s been putting words in your mouth.  What’s he promised you?  Shadow Foreign Secretary?”  Jeremy said acidly as Anthea watched in disgust.  “Now leave us alone, we don’t have time for Colin Scott’s lackey-in-chief!” 

With a grumble, David Fryer waved an irate hand at his wide-eyed researcher and stalked off.

            “You alright?”  Anthea noticed Jeremy trembling as he tentatively sat back down.    A hovering journalist returned to silently to his table, but the story had been observed by many and would be everywhere within the hour.

“Don’t listen to him.”  Anthea continued in an attempt to reassure.  “He’s a bully, all mouth and no punch, and if he thinks he can bully the party into voting the way Colin wants, well, I just hope he’s not right.”

*****

The young woman shivered in the bitter wind, the sun beaming down on her yet striking her face with only the merest hint of warmth.  Her brown hair swirled around her head, her teeth chattering with nerves as much as cold, but the abundance of colour which still adorned the Royal park’s trees brought a pang of joy to her heart, her favourite time of year in full bloom.  The sickness had passed quickly that morning, much to her relief, but making the phone call had brought it back.  Now she felt stupid, and her toes had numbed in a battered pair of soft pumps.  She had enough money to buy herself a decent pair of boots, but hadn’t felt like wandering beyond her door, except to lectures.  But she needed to talk to someone, to confide in a woman who may be able to help her.  It would be no good, simply going to Marie Stopes to talk about how she was feeling, and whether she really wanted to go through with it.  None of that could help.  She had no wish to see her career ended before it had even started, but she had seen a relative go through with the procedure then never get over it.  She hadn’t conceived again.

            She cursed herself for letting herself get into the situation.  MPs had scandals all the time, but she never thought she could be part of one.  She didn’t want to cry, she
couldn’t
....

            “Hello?  Are you Kathryn?”

Kathryn turned to see an older woman stood behind her, looking slightly breathless in a large, expensive-looking black coat.  It was pulled around her stomach, but had been outgrown by the bump.  A well-placed scarf hid it well.  Linda Cheeser stared at the girl inquisitively.  There was no sympathy in her expression and immediately Kathryn began to worry.

“Yes, thank you so much for seeing me.”  Her voice cracked but she cleared her throat and forced a small smile.

Linda kept a distance from Kathryn, the frown on her face harsher than she may have intended.  “So, why do you want to see me?  You’re pregnant, and the father is someone I know?”

Kathryn glanced around her, but the rest of her body froze in a strange embarrassed paralysis.  She considered that perhaps this was a terrible idea, but made herself speak before she bottled it completely and ran away.  It was then that it all poured out, in one long, hurried admission, for fear that if she stopped and saw a look of disapproval in the older woman’s eyes she might collapse in tears.  She talked, wept, talked some more, until Linda knew the bare facts.  Except for the identity of the ‘senior politician’, and that the sex, at first, had all been for the money.

“Do you want to tell me who it is?”  Linda asked carefully.  Kathryn nodded, chewing her bottom lip as the wind whipped around them.

“It’s Colin Scott.”  Kathryn said diffidently.  Linda sucked in her breath and held it. 

            “I’m inclined to believe you, but you could just be out to cause trouble.”  Linda said, her eyes narrowing.  “You’re any attractive girl, did you really give yourself over to the will of...
that man
?”

            “I would
never
lie about this!  It has been so hard, to decide to talk to someone...look, he talks about his dead wife, Alice, all the time, how much he misses her, and I can see he has never got over losing her, and he talks about his mother, who he rarely sees as she’s ill and lives so far away, and although I shouldn’t say it to you, considering who your husband is, I also know how much he wants to be leader, and how...jealous he is of Jeremy.”  Kathryn was trying hard, but didn’t want to say too much about private things he had shared with her.  The last thing she wanted was to become another Jenny Lambert.

Linda shrugged.  “You could have picked up the facts from his
Wikipedia
entry then guessed the rest easily...”

“No, you
must
believe me, please, Dr Cheeser!  You are my only hope, I can’t tell anyone else.”

“Linda – call me Linda.  And calm down.”  Linda sat her down on a nearby bench.  “Look, why do you think I can help?”