Party Games (36 page)

“Alright.” he said calmly.    “It appears, Rodney, that we have reached an impasse and I have no option but to resign.  Right here, right now.  It can be on PA within fifteen minutes, Twitter in less.”

The Leader fell back into his chair, exhausted, but his brown eyes remained fixed on Colin. 

“You don’t mean that.”  Rodney caught his gaze.  “Resignation isn’t part of your plan.  Spreading rumour, leaks, sending out Fryer and Gaines to get their hands dirty while yours are merely waiting to immerse themselves in my political blood, mixing with the likes of Geoffrey Dickenson without thinking through the realistic consequences of the game you’re playing –
that’s
all part of your plan.  But to resign right here, right now, without an audience?  Without the media you so wish to court?” Rodney shook his head, sniffing out a cynical laugh. “That’s not your style.”

“If I am going to challenge you, then I need to resign.  My position is untenable.”  Colin responded smoothly.  Richmond appeared unfazed, but Colin knew Richmond was desperate to avoid the early souring of a Cornish vote win.  The goading was working perfectly.

“You haven’t got that final name.  Wouldn’t you look a bit stupid, resigning then not being able to launch a challenge?  You’ll be a laughing stock.”  Rodney retorted.

Colin sniffed, adjusting the knot of his tie in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness.  “Somehow I don’t think you care about
me
looking stupid.  You’re a weak, insubstantial leader, and I want out from this...this
charade
!”

But Rodney was right.  Without that last name, Tristan couldn’t declare; he himself couldn’t declare.  It would be hasty, to resign right now. If the Bill passed in the Commons, then Richmond has staked so much of his reputation on defeating it then Colin could revel in stamping on his fingers as they clung for dear life from the political cliff.  It was worth the wait.

Rodney was talking again, but this time he had visibly relaxed and his confrontational manner had slipped.  “Look, Colin, this is not getting either of us anywhere, and I’m not about to accept a verbal resignation like this.  Maybe we could involve you more formally in policy making, give you far more of a say…”

“Make me Shadow Chancellor and I may reconsider my options.”  Colin said hurriedly.  “You should have offered me that job in the first place.”

 “You know I can’t do that.”  Rodney laughed.  “The reshuffle has already happened and Heidi is brilliant, it would smack of desperation on both our parts and I wouldn’t fancy Heidi as an enemy.”

“Well in that case we have nothing left to say.”  Colin edged towards the door, his head held high.  His lip curled.  “I’ll let you have your fun tomorrow, but I will abstain, and I
will
get that twentieth name, and boy, will you be shocked when you find out who it is.”

Rodney produced a cynical smile.  “You abstain and I’ll make sure you lose the whip. You’ll be pushed before you jump. If you’re that determined to fight me then I’ll be ready, I’m in a far stronger position than you’ll admit.  And if you think Tristan can do me any damage as a stalking horse then you’re bloody mad.”

Colin turned the door knob slowly, sure that all those listening up against it were now busily dashing back to their desks.  All except Deborah, whose eyes could penetrate a person’s skull like daggers, and to great effect.  He would ignore her, of course.

“Oh, and how is Anthea?  On board, is she?”  The Deputy asked casually after a well-placed pause.  He couldn’t help but grin broadly.

“If you mean is she supporting me, then of course she is.”  Rodney retorted brusquely.

“Oh right, well I’m glad you’re so sure.  It would be tragic for you if Anthea were to switch sides, in fact I would say it could almost finish you off.  Even if her support was luke-warm, I dread to think what damage it could do to you if your former campaign manager and supposedly best friend were to dump you, saying you aren’t the man she thought you were…”

“She has no reason to be disloyal to me!”

“And neither had Rivers, not until you froze him out, gave him a reason to hate you.   He’s even ready to blindly sacrifice himself for me, like the little lamb he is, in the vain hope he’ll one day reach greatness.  Don’t underestimate me, Rodney, and certainly don’t underestimate how far your allies will go to save themselves when the ship is sinking and have little incentive to save the captain.  It’s every man – and woman – for themselves, and I know that better than anybody.”

“Get out!”

“With pleasure.”  Colin smiled again. “Oh, and I nearly forgot.  Happy birthday.” 

Seventeen

Tuesday evening

The Deputy Leader felt calm – almost serene – as he sank back into the dark leather chair at the exclusive Peppermint Club, a glass of port resting in one hand and a cigar in the other.  He exhaled the smoke slowly, as if all his worries were escaping in that one long breath, leaving his body and mind relaxed.  This was the one place he could smoke indoors and not get flung out like a pariah.

He had overcome what he considered his moment of weakness, earlier in the Atrium.  Guilt was a feeling usually alien to him, but Jeremy had a way of bringing out the worst in him.  He had all but forgotten the Party Chairman’s expression, a mixture of pity and piousness, and as for the girl, his conscience was now clear.  Some may have called it cold detachment; Colin liked to call it the survival instinct.

            “To the leadership.”  His companion announced, raising his own glass and producing a slightly sour smile.

            Colin laughed softly.  “Quite.  To the leadership.”  He tipped his own glass in appreciation before draining it, shuddering slightly from the burning in his throat.  Another drink was certainly required; cost was nothing when it was on the tab, or Fryer’s tab, to be precise.  Elite gentlemen’s clubs weren’t usually Colin’s style, but Fryer had invited him on a number of occasions recently and he had grown a taste for an exclusiveness which he felt had become lost at Westminster.  Fryer’s connections were extensive, one of the few reasons Colin put up with his loudmouth behaviour.

Colin might have been more concerned about Anthea Culverhouse if one of his backbench colleagues hadn’t called him, out of the blue, to offer him his name as the twentieth nomination.  No, Fryer hadn’t arm-twisted him into it, he just felt his conscience wouldn’t allow him to follow the majority of his colleagues into unequivocally supporting Richmond.  Anthea, however, was still important.

“I still need a fellow Shadow Cabinet member to endorse me, don’t forget.”  Colin reminded Fryer, hiding the frustration in his voice.  “Otherwise I won’t be as credible.  I’m just waiting for her call.  It’ll come.”  He checked his watch.  Returning to an empty, soulless home seemed utterly uninviting but he had little choice now his one source of entertainment had become impossible, it would be far too dangerous to find a replacement.  Colin deeply regretted how things had turned out but the silly girl’s stupidity, and his own, weighed heavily on his mind.

“Steven’s still a possibility, remember.  If he’s wavering, he’d be a far bigger beast than Culverhouse.”  Fryer said.  He lit a cigar.

“I still want you to lean on Phillips, he’ll cave eventually.  He’s nearly as gullible as Rivers.  Leave Sharkey to me, I’ll keep testing the water.”  Colin took another cigar from the table, inadvertently missing the mild horror which had clouded his colleague’s face.

“Phillips is no-go, far too loyal to Richmond.”  Fryer stumbled over his words as Colin threw him a puzzled glance.  “And anyway, the Patrick Hornby thing, it’s nonsense and we can’t just go to the papers without proof.  If it turned out Phillips is gay then it won’t take long before we’d be discovered as the ones who ‘outed’ him and I’d rather not have you be seen as homophobic in any way.”

“Since when did you get so sensible, David?”  Colin scoffed, but before his companion could look even more uncomfortable his mobile phone beeped and vibrated on the table.  “Matthew, hi…no, I’m at the Peppermint with David…”  There was a palpable pause in Colin’s conversation.  He turned to Fryer but his eyes darted around the room. 

“Is there a television?” 

News 24 flickered silently on the flat screen mounted by the bar as Colin indicated brusquely to the barman to turn up the volume.  The ‘Breaking News’ headline, red and prominent, caused silent rage to flare in Colin’s chest.

‘RODNEY RICHMOND EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW – Tory leader confident of Cornish vote victory tomorrow – calls on critics to justify words with actions –’

“I’ll call you back.”  Colin snapped, his eyes widening as he slowly lowered his mobile.  Here was Richmond, looking confident and relaxed, that charming smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he gave the BBC’s Political Editor the interview journalists dreamed of.   Fryer muttered something under his breath but Colin paid no attention, his eyes burning into the television screen. 
News 24
played back the highlights at length, interspersed with a clip of the leader in front of a media frenzy in his constituency as he brushed off questions.  But for the relatively new Political Editor, Richmond appeared to have far more frank answers.  He had found his resolve following his confrontation with his deputy.

 “You’ve had the most difficult week of your leadership so far.  Would you say you still had the backing of the entire Shadow Cabinet?”  Zoe Simpson asked in a slightly shrill voice.  Rodney leant forward in his chair but kept his arms firmly on the sides – Colin saw he was obviously in control of the interview and had almost certainly requested it himself.

“I would like to think so.”  His smile was tight so to appear confident, not cocky, but as the light caught his dark locks Colin noted that he had been far too heavily made up.  “I count many in the Shadow Cabinet as close friends and extremely competent colleagues.”

“Isn’t it the case that you have had some disagreements with certain of your colleagues?”

“There is nothing wrong with a bit of healthy debate, it is what keeps our party democratic and forward-thinking.”

The bitter taste of hatred rose in Colin’s throat and he winced.  Richmond was back on form and doing what he did best; he could tame the media beast far better than any other politician Colin had ever witnessed and here he was, calm, groomed and looking like a Prime Minister in waiting.

 “Is that what you call the increasingly public differences between you and Colin Scott?  Isn’t it the case that many on the Right aren’t happy with what you’re doing in your party, and the emphasis you have put on the Cornish vote tomorrow?” 

Here it comes, Colin thought.

Rodney raised a carefully controlled eyebrow.  “The Government’s support is falling away, the rebels are in chaos and the Secretary of State’s carelessness is going to cost him dear.  We are in a strong position to win tomorrow and put the Government’s plans for Cornish devolution on the scrapheap.”

 “Is that where Colin Scott should be now he and his supporters appear to be plotting against you – on the scrapheap?  You’ve already had to sack your Deputy Chief Whip for openly supporting Mr Scott days after appointing him, surely two losses from the Whips Office in the space of a couple of weeks is careless?”

“I’m afraid I can’t really speak for anyone else in the Conservative Party, all I can say is that I believe what I’m doing – looking hard at what we have said and done in the past and reassessing our policies by listening to people both in the party and the electorate as a whole – is the right way to move us forward and make us electable again.”  Rodney leant back in his chair and folded his hands across his lap but there was a determination in his eyes.  “I also do not think being stuck in a political rut is conducive to an effective and strong opposition.”

“So what would you say to any potential challenger to your leadership?”  Zoe asked in forthright tone.

“I would suggest anyone who is unhappy talk to me directly.”  Rodney said softly, although obviously, and purposefully, saying nothing to put Colin at ease.

“And if they do not, and continue to speak out publicly against you?” 

“As I say, anyone who is unhappy should…”

“Otherwise, as a rather notorious Labour rebel put it recently, ‘come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough’?”

“Well I wouldn’t put it like that…”

“But you would rather be challenged directly than have backbiting eating away at your leadership?”

He could still easily duck the question, Colin thought, play down any leadership problems, but Richmond had already said enough to cause damage.  It had been deliberate, Richmond had fired the bullet and now all he needed to do was kick the wound.

Richmond considered his response.  Or so it appeared.  A small, almost inaudible sigh passed his lips and his expression turned incredulous.  “Yes.”  He said firmly.  “Yes, I would.”

Colin curled his lip, his gaze fixed on the television.  He was almost sure that he saw Richmond turn to the camera and look him straight in the eye.  It was a direct challenge to Colin, and Colin alone.  Tristan meant nothing.  He heard Fryer draw in a sharp intake of breath, ready to speak, but Colin held his hand up and shook his head.

“Not here.”  He hissed, hardly moving.  “Too public.  We’re going to have every journalist and colleague under the sun ringing us any minute – I need go outside, call Matthew back to discuss the line.  Richmond thinks he’s calling my bluff, but if it’s a fight he wants…he may have just committed political suicide.”

*****

“So you’ve done it then?”  Fryer had asked him sharply.

            “Of course.  I’ve told her.”  McDermott had intended to keep the conversation equally as brief.  He had been pleased to be talking to Fryer and not that bloody Matthew Gaines, Gaines was annoyingly good when it came to playing journalists at their own game.  It must be Fryer’s money, connections or both that the Deputy Leader was after, it certainly wasn’t his brain.