Dick Longg: Sexual Saviour of the Universe (31 page)

‘I know what you’re thinking’.

Dick turned around and froze. ‘Fuck me’, he thought, thankful he hadn’t actually said it aloud. Facing him was the Leader. Not the Deputy Leader or the Assistant Leader. Or even the Assistant to the Deputy Leader, but the actual Leader himself. He hadn’t heard him enter the room but there he was, standing just feet away from him accompanied by an older, elegant-looking grey-haired man. The Leader was tall, well-groomed with an air of sophistication about him and he strode towards Dick, smiling.

‘You’re thinking how can a Party which promotes such a sober, stern, serious image and an almost puritanical approach to governance, surround itself with such luxury, such ostentation?’

The Leader was quite right, That was exactly what Dick had been thinking about. But when he saw the Leader this close and in the flesh for the first time, this thought was immediately replaced by another. The new thought was how familiar the Leader looked.
 
 

‘Is everything all right Mr. Brunel?’, the Leader enquired. ‘You look somewhat perturbed’.

‘Y-yes sir. Thank you sir. I… You surprised me when you entered’.

The Leader and Dick faced each other. The Leader offered his hand and Dick grasped it. This time it was the Leader’s turn to look ever so slightly surprised.

‘We haven’t met have we Mr. Brunel?’

‘N-no, sir’, Dick said nervously.

‘Of course not’, replied the Leader, holding Dick’s hand very firmly, still looking intently at him. ‘It must be the photograph in your file. I’ve seen it many times. It must be that’.

‘Yes sir. Probably’.

‘Good, good!’, the
 
Leader finished shaking Dick’s hand and motioned to his companion to come over.

‘Mr, Brunel, this is Carter my faithful manservant and bodyguard’.

Carter nodded at Dick who graciously nodded back.

‘Whiskey?’ asked the Leader.

‘Yes please,’ replied Dick.

Carter opened the well-stocked cabinet and carefully poured two generous straight whiskies from an elegant lead-crystal decanter.

‘To Jack and to success’, the Leader toasted. ‘Your success’.

Dick gave an embarrassed smile. ‘Thank you, sir’.

‘I’ve been following your progress with great interest, Mr. Brunel. It was only down to my full diary that it’s taken so long for us to meet. I’ve been impressed with your abilities so far. Very impressed’.

Dick felt uncomfortable. He was still shocked from the combination of having an audience with the actual Leader and having all this praise heaped upon him. But there was also the weird feeling that he’d seen the Leader somewhere else. Then it struck him - and Dick felt very stupid. Very stupid indeed. As stupid as someone who had the nickname ‘Shit-For-Brains’. It was obvious. He’d recognised the Leader from all his inspirational early morning announcements and speeches.

Gesturing around the room the Leader spoke. ‘Now, let me explain, or as some less charitable people might say, justify, these grand surroundings hidden from public gaze’.

The ever-attentive Carter refilled both their glasses. The leader continued. ‘You see, Mr. Brunel, I govern in a slightly different way from my predecessors. Of course, it’s vital that we continue to promote the beliefs and values of the original New Victorians. That is essential to the well-being of the population and the prosperity of our great nation. But I also feel that those in a position of power should be able to enjoy certain, shall we say, guilty pleasures as an antidote to the pressures of governing and as a means of relaxation’.

‘Work hard, play harder?’, offered Dick, summarising his own life philosophy.

The Leader beamed. ‘Precisely, Mr. Brunel. Precisely’. He chinked glasses with Dick again. ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy’.

‘Not my Jack’, added Dick.

The Leader smiled and put a firm hand on Dick’s shoulder. ‘I like the cut of your cloth Mr. Brunel. You are a like-minded fellow, and someone I feel who could be a real asset to the Party in the future’.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
‘I hope so, sir. I am dedicated to furthering the cause of The Party and feel I have a lot to offer’, Dick replied with a cringing degree of obsequiousness.

‘Good. We could always do with more men like you. You would be a useful addition to my Ruling Council’.

‘Ruling Council?’ Dick enquired, slightly shaken at hearing that such a body existed, let alone being invited to join it. ‘I didn’t know there was one. I thought you alone made all decisions’.

‘I do. Well, as far as the public is concerned I do. It’s important that they see me and me alone as the ultimate power. It’s all to do with the cult of personality, you know’.

Dick nodded, not sure what this cult was, whether he was expected to join it, or whether it had any initiation rites like human sacrifice or chanting or dancing naked in a forest and if it did, he hoped it would be a warm night and he could keep his shoes on in case he got pine needles stuck in his feet.

‘But governing this fine nation is such a lonely task’, the Leader continued, ‘And a never-ending one. For these reasons I surround myself with a tight-knit, utterly loyal and dedicated team of advisors. We meet weekly to review policy decisions and discuss their impact. Sometimes I act on their advice. Other times I choose to ignore it. The difficulty arises when I receive conflicting recommendations but as Leader I have the ultimate say’.

‘Making no decision is worse than making a bad decision’, Dick offered, as if he was quoting from a Christmas cracker motto.

The leader turned to his manservant. ‘See Carter, more witty truths cascade from the lips of this very talented individual’. He consulted an expensive-looking pocket watch. ‘Unfortunately however, I now have to go. I am to attend the dedication of a new bridge’.

‘A road opening ceremony, sir’, Carter corrected him.

‘Oh yes. See Mr. Brunel. So many things to do, but mere trivialities really. The Council has far more important, more fundamental and some might even say, more influential issues to consider. You’d be amazed what the Party is planning’.

With that tantalising piece of news the Leader smiled, shook Dick’s hand firmly again and grasped his shoulder looking him squarely in the face once more. ‘Vera knows about this meeting but with everything we do here, discretion is of paramount importance. I’m sure we’ll continue our discussion about the Council but do not repeat a word of our meeting to anyone’.

Dick really wanted to say something like, ‘What, not even to
Taylor
?’. But he didn’t. Instead he said, ‘I won’t sir. You can trust my discretion’.

With that, the doors opened and a different Party official escorted Dick out, through the ante ante-chamber, back through the ante-chamber and all the way back to the lobby where another car was waiting to take him back to the Ministry.

Back in the Grand Room the Leader turned to Carter.

‘We must watch Mr. Brunel closely. Something still bothers me about him, but I’m not sure what it is. I have that feeling again. There’s that same disturbance in the Fabric’.

Carter smirked inwardly then answered. ‘Sir, if you have doubts about him then why take the risk of even considering appointing him to the Council?’

‘Because, Carter’, the Leader explained, ‘I believe in the old adage ‘Keep your friends close but your enemies closer’’. He paused for a moment. ‘And possible enemies of the state, even closer still’.

CHAPTER 25

The Resistance’s first contact with David Parnell was made very subtly. It had already been established that he lived alone in a
South London
terraced house so a small envelope posted through his door late one night wouldn’t attract any unnecessary attention from an inquisitive partner. The envelope contained two things: a fresh red carnation and a note that said Parnell been identified as a possible member of the Resistance, and that if he was interested in learning more then he should wear the flower as a buttonhole when he left for work the next morning.
Taylor
’s biggest concern was that Parnell wouldn’t believe the note was genuine. If he really thought he was being set up by the Party to check his loyalty then he would probably just ignore the note completely and therefore end any chance of meeting with the Resistance. On the other hand, if Parnell believed the note was genuine, then this was his first opportunity to meet fellow dissenters. In
Taylor
’s experience, most wannabe Resistance members were so anti-Party that they were willing to take such a risk and disregard any doubts about the authenticity of the note.

The Resistance knew David left his house for work at about
seven o’clock
so Edward had been waiting covertly outside since half six. Wearing a dark grey raincoat and carrying an old battered leather briefcase, David left the house on time and passed right in front of Edward without even knowing it. No flower. Edward’s heart sank. He called
Taylor
and delivered his coded message of disappointment, then set off for work himself, following David to the station. Less than a minute later David suddenly stopped then turned round and set off back home at a quick pace. Edward was puzzled and decided to follow David from a discrete distance, observing him unlock the front door and go back inside. A few moments later he reappeared carrying a smaller holdall, something he’d obviously forgotten. He passed Edward for a second time, this time walking even more briskly so he didn’t miss his train. As he rushed by, Edward caught sight of a flash of red; the carnation that had been hurriedly pinned to his lapel. Edward reached for his phone again. This time he had good news to relay.

- - o O o - -

From that initial contact the recruitment process was fast. Several blindfolded visits by David Parnell to the resistance HQ for lengthy interviews indicated that with his Party contacts, he would be an ideal asset for the Resistance. It was during one of these interviews that Susan caught Dick alone in the lounge, sipping a glass of brandy and staring blankly into the fire.

‘What’s wrong?’, she asked.

‘Nothing’, Dick said.

‘Nothing as in ‘I’m not jealous about the potential new recruit?’

Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Dick knew Susan had shared
Alice
’s uncannily accurate insight. What is it about women?, he thought. Did they share some form of hive mind with collective intuition?

‘Potential new recruit?, He’s almost a fully-fledged resistance member isn’t he?’, Dick asked, still staring into the dancing flames.

‘Not yet’, Susan told him. ‘His recruitment has been fast-tracked but there’s still some final security checks and double checks to be carried out before he’s admitted here and his blindfold comes off’.

Dick grunted his disapproval. Susan crouched down next to him and gently turned his head to face hers.

‘Look, as far as defeating the Party goes you’re still our best bet. No resistance member has met the Leader before. He seems to have taken a shine to you. The invitation to join the Party as an advisor is unbelievable!’

‘So if I’m your best bet why is
Taylor
so hung up on hiring the newbie?’. Without waiting for Susan to respond Dick revealed the answer. ‘It’s because he feels guilty for failing to identify Benjamin as a subversive. Worse than that, deep down he feels responsible in some way for his death’.

‘That is complete and utter nonsense’, protested Susan angrily.

‘Is it? I think
Taylor
’s over-compensating for his own shortcomings by speeding up Mr. Parnell’s induction and in the process he’s compromising our safety.
All
our safety!’.

Susan stood up. ‘That is not true! Mr. Parnell is being recruited because we need as many opportunities as we can to get inside the Party’.