Party Games (11 page)

“But why tell all this to me?  I’m out, I’ve no influence over him anymore, not that I really did in the first place.”  Tristan said.

“I’m sure you’re shrewd enough to realise exactly what this could mean, Tristan.”  Colin said smoothly, but Tristan said nothing.  “Ok let me stop beating around the bush here.  Perhaps we need to start thinking about the future, the direction we want the party to take.  You and I are not that much older than Rodney, and the Party is much bigger than one man.  I doubt that you wish to just sit back and watch it all go pear-shaped.”

“So you
do
want us to form an alliance?”  Tristan was tired of Colin’s games.  In fact, Tristan was tired full-stop.  He didn’t really feel like thinking about the party’s direction at that moment, his brain was awash with alcohol and exhaustion.  He just wanted to go home and crawl into bed, thinking of a certain someone.  He hoped she was ok after her run-in with Rodney.  It sounded ghastly.  Perhaps she would confide in him at lunch?

“‘Alliance’ makes it sound so – so formal, as if there is a common enemy to face.”  The Deputy produced a smooth smile.  Tristan blinked and held his breath, trying to stay focussed on Colin’s brewing plot.  Colin stood and stalked the perimeter of his office. “I would like to think of it more as a joining of talents, nothing official, just colleagues keeping an eye on the situation, keeping our ears to the ground.”

Tristan raised a lazy eyebrow.  His second double whisky had now found its way to his stomach and he felt strangely queasy.  “Right.  So, you’re gathering evidence for a new leadership bid, then?”

Colin feigned shock.  His hand drifted casually along the edge of his desk until it reached the drawer.  He turned the lock and pulled out the key.  Tristan’s vision blurred slightly. 

“Leadership?  Oh, well, I wouldn’t go quite that far, Tristan.  Not yet, anyway.  I couldn’t do anything alone, and I would hate the Party to think that I hadn’t given Rodney a fair crack of the new Chief’s whip.”

Tristan flushed.

“Have you any...leadership ambition yourself?”  Colin mused, almost mumbling the words.  Tristan opened his mouth, frowned, then shut it again.  “I mean, it wouldn’t be unreasonable, an intelligent, experienced man like yourself.  All that time spent in the City, making nice amounts of cash, then you come into Parliament, taking a pay cut, thrust into the public eye, just to get treated like – well – like shit, I suppose, by Richmond.”

Tristan felt his face burning up.  Whatever Colin was trying to do, it was working.  His mouth was dry and he needed a drink. A cool one, without a single trace of alcohol.

“I don’t know, from what I see Rodney still seems pretty popular, even if what you suggest about his mental state is true.  Leadership isn’t really something I’ve given much thought to, I’m not sure if it’s me.  I really want that space on Public Accounts...”

“Oh Tristan, that’s not ambition!”  Colin suddenly spat. 

Tristan blinked at the interruption, his eyes coming back into focus. 
Who was Colin Scott to tell him what ambition is?  

Colin’s face relaxed again, and he drew breath.  Tristan looked at him closely, noting that he appeared to be counting, his eyes closed for a brief moment.  He then looked at his watch.  The Deputy seemed surprised at the lateness of the hour, and began to draw the drinking session to a close.  Tristan noticed Colin hadn’t touched a drop of his own whisky.

 “Look, I love this party, as I am sure you do too.”  Colin said.  He leant across the back of his chair and looked Tristan straight in the eye. “I don’t want to see history repeating itself at the next election.  I think Richmond has done more harm to himself than he realises by making an enemy out of you.  We could work together on this, Tristan.  Just – just think about it.”  He walked round and patted Tristan on the shoulder, eyeing the door.  The former Shadow Cabinet colleague was about to overstay his welcome and Colin seemed suddenly keen to be doing something else.  Heaving himself out of the chair, Tristan felt instantly light headed.  He nodded at Colin, but found it difficult to talk.

“Ok, I’ll think about it.  But I doubt we could get enough support for a leadership challenge, though.”  He garbled.

“Leave all that to me.”  Colin said flatly.  With a jolt he opened the door, but grabbed Tristan by the arm before he could leave.  “Just don’t leave me waiting for long.  I need an answer, and soon.  I would hate things to get a little...
awkward
between us.  No guts, no glory, as they say.”  Another pat on the back, and Tristan found himself outside Colin’s office, Colin now half way down the corridor and heading towards the lift.  Tristan thought about following him, but his heart suddenly began to race as an unsettling warmth spread under his tongue.  Finding the nearest toilet was suddenly an urgent priority and he ran across the corridor and into the men’s, reaching his target just in time.

He felt better, once it was out of his system.  As he flushed and slumped down the wall, he vowed never to touch whisky again.  Unable to think straight, Tristan leant his head on his knees, taking deep gasps of stagnant air. 
No guts, no glory.
Colin was a man difficult to say no to, and now he was terrified he had committed himself to a course of action he genuinely did not wish, or think, he could pursue.  Aware he was on the cusp on unconsciousness, Tristan knew he would have to get himself home somehow.  With a further deep breath, he hoisted himself off the floor.  Sleep, when it finally came, would be most welcome.

*****

This
wasn’t
going as he had planned.  Colin had hoped Rivers would leap at the chance of trying to get his revenge on that jumped-up journalist, but he could see now that the guy was going to prove a problem.  He was a little concerned that he would have to resort to Plan B, and that – he knew – could get very nasty indeed.  No, he had to try to stick to Plan A at all costs for maximum impact.  Colin had been so nice for so long that evening it had made his head hurt, but as he drove the short distance through Holborn towards the familiar destination, his stress began to ease.  He parked around the corner so to be inconspicuous.  Snatching up the bunch of roses from the passenger seat, he straightened his tie in the wing mirror.  With a quick scout of the quiet street, he walked quickly to the door and pressed the doorbell. Colin felt mildly twitchy when no answer came.  After two minutes and no answer, he began to wonder. 
Where was she?
  The sound of a cab rattling down the street reached his ears and he ran back around the corner, keeping watch from a distance.  He heard a voice, laughing, as a young woman climbed out of the cab in heels and a short black skirt.  Moments later it zoomed off, turning sharply at the end of the road, then vanished into the darkness.

            Colin continued to watch as the woman stumbled up the stairs to her front door.  She had to be out of sight before he could approach.  A photograph of the two of them together, perhaps taken subtly on a mobile phone by anyone passing who may recognise him, and he might find himself gracing that Patrick Hornby’s offensive blog.  That would never do.

            With more nervousness than before, Colin rang the doorbell again.  He had been outside for far too long and his paranoia was setting in.  Finally, the woman buzzed him up.

            “What, you went out?  Like that?  For God’s sake, Kathryn, you’ll draw attention to yourself!”

            The young woman rolled her eyes, trying to arrange the roses in a large mug of water.  “I love the flowers, sweetie, but I’m a student, I’ve told you before that I don’t have vases.”  She spun round and pecked Colin on the cheek.  “But thank you anyway, it’s very romantic.”

            “Didn’t you hear what I said?”  Colin was exasperated and jealous - jealous that his secret was flaunting herself around London in the smallest items of clothing she could find, young male students eyeing her beautiful figure.

            “Oh Colin, don’t be silly!”  The girl scalded, grinning.  She propped the roses against a cupboard.  “I’m allowed out once in a while, you know!  I hate it when you chide me like a child. And you can’t tell me how to dress, you’re not my bloody dad!”

            A jab of humiliation hit him in the chest.  Although he knew it was unintentional, and she simply meant to gently tease him, Kathryn was reminding him of all his insecurities in one painful hit. He couldn’t help but raise his voice to her.

“Don’t ever call me silly again, do you understand?  And never, ever, bring up the age thing!”

            Kathryn produced a sultry smile, sauntering up to him and wrapping her arms around his neck.  Colin’s fury instantly began to fall away.  Unlike with most of his colleagues, he could never be angry with her for long.  She was right; of course she should be allowed out.  She was young, she had a life to live.  He couldn’t expect her to simply sit in her flat and wait for him to turn up, he had stood her up enough times since their arrangement began. 

            Although Colin’s mind was tired and hazy, every nerve in his body felt alive to her touch, and as she kissed him he wanted her just as much as he had done the very first time they met.  She tasted of alcohol and sweet perfume – perfume he had bought her – her lips soft yet eager to rein him in.  They moved from the kitchen, heading towards the bedroom which had become Colin’s sanctuary, Kathryn tearing off generic layers of clothing which made him the politician to find the man underneath.

“So, does the Honourable gentleman want me to play the naughty intern?”  Kathryn murmured softly as she pushed him back onto the bed.  She straddled his groin and leant over him, her breasts gliding sensually across his chest as she kissed his neck, breathing him in. “Because I can be whoever you want me to be, remember.”

“Oh I know, and you’re amazing at it, but tonight just be yourself.”  Colin slid his hands along her thighs and hips, feeling her flawless young skin.  He brushed her simple cotton panties with his fingertips, drifting them across her pubic mound, his eyes locked with hers.  Kathryn smiled and threw her head back, her dark hair falling about her shoulders as she moaned at his touch.

“Are you sure you don’t want to scald me?”  She cooed.  “Because I have been a very, very naughty girl, Mister Deputy Leader.”

A student at the London School of Economics, Kathryn was in her final year of Government and Economics and Chair of LSE Conservative Future, acing her grades each year and with a bright future ahead of her.  They had met in a Westminster bar three years earlier, while he was still a Minister, and she had known exactly who he was and had been star-struck, drinking in every word he spoke, listening as he talked about politics, about philosophy, about his time at Oxford. He had told her funny stories about Jeremy Cheeser, and she had laughed, excitement in her young eyes, while he charmed her.  Colin felt a certain power over her but she was no wall-flower.  She reminded him of Alice.  Alice had been the same age as her when they married.  20 was no age to die. 

But Kathryn was having a tough time at university, her living costs were high and her parents weren’t millionaires.  She had ambition, wanted to become an MP one day, and Colin had felt a pang of sympathy.
Perhaps he could help?
  She was certainly attractive and he felt her attraction to him.  He couldn’t see such ambition crushed simply because of money.  She had accepted his offer and he had paid for a hotel.  He took her virginity, she took his money, and a wild, intense relationship followed. Colin would visit her more and more once he was in Opposition, the good money he paid well exceeding her financial needs.  He didn’t care.  He needed her as much as she needed him.  Kathryn looked up to him, but as time passed, she was more than in awe of him - she grew to adore him, and he knew it all too well.  He pretended not to notice the way she behaved during their post-coital cuddles, when, like a new bride on her wedding night, she would hug him tightly.  Colin knew it was ridiculous, but all sense left him once he walked over the threshold of her student digs.  She earned enough from him to live alone, and this was just how they wanted it.

“Damn, how d’you get to be so bloody good?”  Colin took her buttocks in both hands and squeezed just enough to cause her minor discomfort, rubbing them, his palms in firm contact with the cool flesh. 

“I’ve had an
excellent
teacher.”  Kathryn gasped, her glossed lips parted, her slender throat exposed.  She jumped as he delivered a light slap to her warmed left cheek, then a slightly firmer physical admonishment to her right. 

“Harder!”  Kathryn took his hand and smacked it down on her rear.  Colin’s breathing quickened, watching her, yearning for her as she performed for him, her panties damp from desire, her fingers playing, her chest heaving rapidly, teasing him until her body jerked and gave into the pleasure, a soft groan escaping her lungs.

“So do I get my turn now?”  Colin pouted, an intimate expression which could only be produced for a lover.  “For a naughty girl you seem to be having all the fun.” 

Kathryn laughed as she flopped down onto him.  “You look like a little boy when you do that lip.”  She said
, leaning up and kissing his puckered mouth.  She reached down and grasped him firmly.  Colin shuddered.
  “It’s only a matter of time before you’re leader, I’m sure of it.” 

Colin raised his eyebrows.  His body wasn’t the only thing his lover liked to massage.  Kathryn ran her finger across his lips, her scent arousing him.

“Well, I’m glad
you’re
sure of it.”  Colin smiled.  “I think you’re the only one.  It’s all so bloody frustrating at the moment.”

 “Well, I’m sure I can do something about those –
frustrations.
”  Kathryn giggled, rolling onto her back and allowing him complete access.  His lips and hands descended upon her hungrily, but not wishing to rush things, he continued to talk as he took in every inch of her, stroking, kissing, searching.  He felt the swell and warm moisture between her legs.  She smelled incredible.  “I do hope your family still don’t know about us.  I think I would be in rather too much trouble, young lady.”  Colin teased.  He would often gently mock her about their secret, but part of him worried she would tell someone. Whenever Kathryn returned to London after a home visit he watched for signs that his existence in her life may have been shared with another.  Mercifully, it never was.