Party Games (33 page)

“I’m so sorry – it’s been a while.”  He said softly.  “I’ve been so busy, but I suppose that’s no excuse.  I’m close again, Alice.  Closer than last time, I can feel it.”

Colin breathed in deeply as he rose to his feet, feeling his cheeks stinging while trying desperately not to think of her lying beneath his feet, her precious body horrifically violated by the passing of time.  The icy rain drops beat against his face like sharp, stabbing pins and he fumbled for his wallet from which he pulled out the faded photograph. 
This
was how he would think of her; smiling and happy, just as she had been on their wedding day.

“One day, my darling husband, when this lot are in Parliament and lounging on the back benches, you’ll be the man they all aspire to be.”  Alice had whispered in his ear during their first dance.  They locked gazes while the rest of the world was shut out, her hazel eyes captivating him, and she smiled naughtily.  Colin never did know if she had meant it.  He liked to think so, and he didn’t want to let her down.

“There’s something else, though. 
Someone
else.”  Colin continued, hanging his head.  His irrational shame at his involvement with other women meant he felt he owed her an explanation; a confession of some sort at least.  “It’s just...sometimes I feel I can’t do this alone anymore.”

“You don’t need to.”  A high, frightened voice spoke nervously behind him. 

Colin’s senses, dulled from the cold, suddenly leapt into action and he spun round in the muddy earth.  His vision was blurred from the tears, a mixture of emotion and weather, but he could make out a petite, lone figure standing only a few feet away from him.  The young woman didn’t move but as his mind began to process the situation she appeared to cower slightly, pulling her scarf tighter around her pretty head.

“What the
hell
are you doing here?  Have you
followed
me?”  Colin hissed, his rage building.  This place was sacred, a private moment which she had destroyed.

“I’m sorry.  I had to see you again, I didn’t think you were coming back.”  Kathryn looked terrified.  Colin knew she had never really witnessed the full ferocity of the temper he had become so infamous for in Parliamentary circles, but as he grabbed her firmly by the arm and dragged her lightweight frame around the back of a nearby tomb, he did not consider that she might be terrified she was about to add to the number of bodies littering the earth beneath them.

“How
dare
you come here, I was going to arrange to come over to get the invoice, not speak to you -
see you
- in the middle of the bloody day!”  Colin shook her arm and she almost cracked her head against the ageing lid of the tomb.  Her face crumpled into a sob, Colin hating the irritation within him.

“But I needed to see you,” Kathryn whimpered.  “I went to your house and saw you get the flowers, so I jumped to conclusions and thought you may be going to visit me…”

“Jesus, you know where I
live
?  I come to you, you don’t stalk me, and you certainly don’t hang around my home, that’s a fucking dangerous game to play!  You’ll get me found out, is that what you want to happen?  See me ruined?”

“N...no, but…”

“It could have waited, just to give me a damn invoice, surely?”

Colin released his grip on Kathryn’s upper arm and she slumped against the mossy tomb, frantically wiping away her tears with a shaking finger.  A strong gust of wind swept over them and Kathryn shivered.

“There isn’t an invoice.   I didn’t go through with it.  I’m still pregnant.”

Without a word, Colin took a step closer to her as she slid further down the tomb, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.  Mumbling into her knees she continued, obviously trying to say everything before he exploded at her.  “I want to keep the baby.  I was hoping maybe we could…I don’t know…I was sitting in the clinic and I realised I wasn’t ready to just do what you want…”

“Oh, so you made it as far as the clinic waiting room then?  Get up from down there!”  Colin moved to pull her up from the ground, but suddenly the urge not to hurt her entered his consciousness and he took a step back. 

“Why the
hell
don’t people do what I tell them to do?  I find you one of the best private clinics in London, say I’ll pay the bill, then you go against my wishes!  All apart from the bloody good money I pay you on a regular basis!  What more do you want from me, girl?”  It was a decision he had taken, knowing the facts and the consequences, and there had been nothing more to discuss.  Surely, deep down, she agreed with him, the child wasn’t wanted, it would be an inconvenience at best, so why was she looking at him like that, with such hurt etched on her beautiful face?

“I want…maybe I want you to love me.  Not like you loved your wife, I realise that, but I think you feel something for me.  You could grow to love your child too, we could be a family…”

Colin shook his head, holding up his hands.  “We can’t, I’ve already told you!  Christ, if this gets out, I’ll be finished completely, don’t you see?”  The paranoia of being seen forced him to take action and he crouched down, joining her at the back of the tomb, overshadowed by a garish winged creature perched on top of an obelisk.  Colin shivered.

“But I’m in love with you, and you talk to me so much about your politics and how you’re feeling!  Please listen to me, Colin, please!”  Kathryn pleaded.

“There’s a difference between love and lust!  You don’t love me, you instead have motives, and I just like sleeping with you because it makes me feel good, it gives you money to study and I stupidly thought I could trust you, it’s as simple as that!”

Kathryn stared up at him as drops of rain splashed into her eyes.  The Deputy Leader of the Conservative Party was reminding her that she was still a nobody who should know her place, and that certainly wasn’t by his side at political functions. 

“I don’t believe you!  And I can’t believe you wouldn’t care for your own child!”  Kathryn shouted, determined.  “I saw that look on your face when we were last together, before you left, and I saw vulnerability and feeling, but all that has now been buried again with your wife!” 

“This is just some silly idyllic notion you’ve got in your head, that we could be together as one happy family, when it’s not – it
can
not happen!”  Colin had risen to his feet and was pacing frantically, hardly noticing the cold which had stiffened his joints.  He couldn’t even admit to himself, let alone her, that if she had the child with his full knowledge it would tear him up inside.  There would always be the threat of her causing trouble, blackmailing him for money – huge sums of money which he didn’t have. Journalists would want their share of the pickings, like sewer rats on rotting flesh.  His doubt and turmoil didn’t explain why he was staring into her eyes, why he was stroking her pale cheek with a gloved hand, why he was allowing her to kiss him, sensually, deeply, in plain sight to the world as light, icy raindrops stung their lips.

 “No, we must stop this!”  Colin pulled away, finding his senses.  “Look, if you do what is necessary, then...then I can guarantee you a job once you graduate.  Our agreement will have to end, but it will put you on the right path.  That’s my offer, and I give you my word.”

“Get rid of my baby in exchange for a job?  Romantic gesture.”  Kathryn mocked, her eyes piercing.

“I suggest you take my offer!”  Colin had always adored her forthrightness, but now was not the time.  “If you choose to have the baby, then don’t expect to get very far while I’m around.”

Colin’s own mobile rang shrilly in his pocket.  He needed to answer it, he was about to become embroiled in a leadership battle and should have already left the graveyard rather than being told by his secret that she was out to see him ruined.  He turned his back on Kathryn, and exhaled sharply when he saw who the caller was. 
Gaines.

            “Matthew, how is everything?”  His voice was strained. “Nineteen names?  That’s great, but it’s not quite twenty, is it?  There must be
someone
else, Tristan’s a bloody martyr now, people are almost feeling sorry for the silly sod.”  He gave a wry smile, but his mood was far from humorous. “David doesn’t need my permission to break a collar bone or two.  Wrong?  Nothing’s wrong.  Look, I’ll see you at six, and I’ll work on a few others who are vulnerable to persuasion…I’ve got to go.”  Colin ended the call abruptly on turning round again to see that Kathryn had gone, only a patch of disturbed mud left in her wake.

            “Shit!  Shit, shit,
shit
!”  Frantically he ran onto the path and strained his eyes to see to the gate but it was no good.  Now he knew how Tristan felt, having reputation and career in someone else’s hands.  Maybe he could rely on the fact that she was in love with him, so wouldn’t
really
want to hurt him, as long as he left her alone now. 

Just as he was about to say his farewell to Alice, Colin caught sight of something white flapping underneath the bunch of roses.  Grunting he snatched up the note:

Jeremy Cheeser will know soon.  I’ve told his wife everything. I still love you.

Scrunching up the note Colin stood alone at Alice’s grave. 
Oh, fuck.  FUCK. 
He was so distracted as he staggered away that he almost forgot to glance behind him and blow a kiss into the wind.

*****

1pm

Clare suggested it should have been cancelled; he should have been in Westminster, saving his leadership, not visiting the local hospital in his constituency on a damp Tuesday afternoon.  Rodney Richmond was not, however, about to shirk the very people who had elected him as their MP and stay in London, allowing the whole world to see just how worried he was about his future.

Clare waited for him in the car after a semi-friendly word with the gathered journalists, who were now closing in on him like a pack of hyenas on his way out from touring the new cancer wing.  She groaned when she saw her charge shaking hands with the clinical director who appeared somewhat disgruntled to see a media scrum interrupting their farewell small-talk.

“Think you’re needed.”  Fred grumbled, nodding out of the window.  Uttering an expletive, Clare tossed her hairbrush onto the seat, grabbed her mobile and leapt out of the car as quickly as her skirt – and decency – would allow.

“Mr Richmond, have you any comment to make about rumours of a leadership challenge?  Are you hiding away from the crisis?”

“What are your plans now, Mr Richmond, will you be going back to London for a meeting with your Deputy?”

“Are you having a good birthday, Mr Richmond, and have you received a card from Colin Scott?”

“Mr Richmond, will you…”

Crap, he’s going over to them! 
Clare nearly twisted her ankle dashing over to her boss, who had wandered into the bloodthirsty gathering and was being verbally mauled by one of the hacks from the
Engager
.  She squeezed herself in between the scrum, desperately trying to drive Rodney back but wondering whether she could actually get out alive.

“Look, we are focusing on winning the vote tomorrow night, which has important implications not just for the future of the Cornish people but of the entire country.”  Rodney smiled insincerely, his voice calm.  Clare could see how tired he was, and distracted, but the journalists were relentless as he batted away their questions with another forced smile before she ushered him towards the car.

“Ouch!  What the hell?”  Rodney growled as he sat himself square on the upward prongs of Clare’s hairbrush.  With an apologetic murmur his Press Secretary felt herself glowing as he handed her the brush.  Sniffing in distain as he fastened his seatbelt, an exasperated frown etched across his lightly moisturised face, Rodney glanced out of the window to see the unimpressed press pack peering through to the back of the car.

Clare sighed.  “I didn’t think there would be quite so many of them, to be honest.”

“But what did they all expect, me to accuse my arsehole of a deputy of publicly stuffing me like a Christmas bloody turkey?”

“They’re getting excited, I’m afraid.”  Clare said as Fred accelerated a little too quickly from the hospital car park, nearly knocking over a local journalist.  “He’s got 19 of the 20 names he needs, so PA is now reporting.”

“We’ll say nothing else for now, but we’d best plan a statement in case it hits the fan before the vote and he jumps ship.”  Rodney thumped a pile of policy papers onto his lap.  “Get Debs in on this one.  Get her on speakerphone.”

Deborah was in bullish mood, informing them in no uncertain terms that Colin Scott had been frozen out of Shadow Cabinet circles and pretty much nobody was talking to him. 

“Oh yes and Sharkey has been on, he says he can get his people to bang heads together if needs be.”  She said with a small cynical laugh.  “Although we’re watching him closely, Scott’s still putting it about that a deal with him could still happen.”

Rodney glanced at Clare, who felt a little green next to him.  She didn’t travel particularly well. 

“Well that’s big of Steven.”  He said.  “At least he’s firmly on side for now, the last thing we need is his supporters making unhelpful noises, who knows who that might encourage.  Look, I need Valerie to clear the diary for 4pm.”

Clare swallowed hard and rummaged in her bag for a mint.  She eyed the passenger window, but knew it was locked shut for security, so took a deep, shaky breath and calmed herself.

“Right.”  Deborah said slowly over the speakerphone.  “Does this mean...” 

“Get Colin in, I think it’s time we had a chat.  Play it down though, if you need to.”

Clare found a humbug and eyed Rodney worriedly at this news.  It wasn’t a good idea, but her boss looked determined.

“Are you sure about this?”  Deborah said slowly.

“I’m positive.  It can’t get much worse, Debs, and maybe Colin will be reasonable.  You and Clare leak it to the usual friendlies.”  Rodney carried on before she could protest.  “Oh, has Anthea called, by the way?  To offer support?”