Party Games (42 page)

“It could be worse, we could put it about that it would be ‘all pain and no gain’ under Scott.  Unless you’re Rosie Lambert, of course.”  Deborah sniggered.

             “Look, I still think you need to sack him tonight.”  Robert interjected.  He wasn’t one for humour at the expense of others.

The Leader looked his PPS straight in the eye.  “Tomorrow.   I know what you’re going to say, but I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t agree. You should do it tonight.  Sooner the better.”  Williams said with an edgy grimace, but Deborah shot him a disparaging look.

“Don’t be stupid.”  She said admonishingly, much to Jeremy’s surprise.  He pondered that perhaps it was her way of showing Robert affection, although from the look on his face he didn’t appear to agree.  “Tonight’s a terrible idea.  We need to revel in our victory just for tonight, let the media focus on some good news for us for a change, and wait till it gets out, with a little encouragement from us of course, that Colin has abstained.”

“I agree with Debs.”  Rodney said emphatically.  “It’s Anthea’s night, we’ve all worked hard towards this victory.  I’m not going rise to his bait, let him stew a little more.” The PPS looked outdone and nodded.  “I want him shut out completely, not a single bit of strategy is to leak from anywhere; it needs to be a watertight ship as far as the Scott camp is concerned, let him know how it feels to be
really
left out in the cold.  People can say it makes a martyr of him if they like but I think it will piss off his local association no end and he’ll face a revolt.”

The meeting drew a natural end, but with a wave Rodney indicated to his Chairman to remain behind.  Robert stole a glance at Deborah as they left the office; a longing, perhaps, Jeremy wasn’t quite sure.

“Those two, are they an item?”  Jeremy said quietly once he and Rodney were alone. 
9.30pm.
The vote would be soon.

“I don’t know, I’ve wondered for a while.  But to be honest, I’ve got far bigger concerns than whether my PPS is screwing my Chief of Staff.”  Rodney said irritably.

Jeremy was surprised at this comment, he knew Rodney cared very much for both Deborah and Robert, but he decided against further observation on this sensitive topic.

“Look, I’ve come to a decision.”  Rodney spun round to face Jeremy.  “My leadership is being poisoned, and I’m sick of it.  You’re the first to know, but tomorrow I’m going to force a leadership election, a ‘back me or sack me’, ‘put up or shut up’ thing. I’m not going to have Colin resign then stall, trying to cause more damage for God knows how long.  I’m going to beat him to it, steal the spotlight back from him.”

“You’re going to resign?”  Jeremy felt the panic rising.

“Yes.  I’m seeing Fergus first thing, I’m going to give him the exclusive post-resignation interview for the following day.”  Rodney’s voice was steady.

“McDermott?  I’m not so sure...”

“I’ve made up my mind.”

“But you’ve made it alone, not with advice, what if it all goes wrong?”

“I’ve been hiding behind
advice
for so long I’ve forgotten about the real world, and, privately, perhaps Colin has a point.  Day in, day out I’m cocooned inside these walls while being told over and over that I’m well-loved by everyone, and by God, Jeremy, it’s frightening that I’ve even started to believe it myself!” 

“But that’s no reason to
resign
...!”

“Jeremy, please!”  Rodney held up his hands.  “Do you remember our discussion after that Shadow Cabinet photo, right after I won?”

Jeremy remembered it well, like it was merely hours ago, when Rodney was riding high after his win and Jeremy might well have promised him the world had he asked.  Colin was to be watched carefully, Jeremy and Robert reporting his every move to their leader, but they had quickly realised that paranoia could be far more dangerous than mere ignorance.
Silence over the blackmail had been for the best.

“You said we might need to destroy Colin once and for all.  He hasn’t backed down, nor has he any intention of doing so.  Now is the time, we can send him to the backbenches for a long time assuming this works.  You’re an excellent Chairman and my best friend, and I hope you’re with me.”  Rodney gripped Jeremy’s shoulder.  Jeremy watched as moistness sprang to Rodney’s eyes. 

“I’m with you, every step of the way.”  Jeremy replied.  He felt a failure that it had come to this under his watch.  Their BlackBerrys buzzed – it was nearly time.  Rodney would be facing his colleagues and cameras, he
had
to look calm, authoritative, determined to win.  The division bell began to sound, a shrill ring warning every MP in the vicinity to get to the lobbies. 

 “You do realise, if this goes pear-shaped and I don’t get enough for a second ballot, or if the next election is a disaster for us, I want
you
to run against Colin, and win?”

Jeremy blinked in surprise, both at the meaning and at Rodney’s timing.  He let go of the door handle.

“Me?  But you’ve always said Heidi.”

“Heidi would make a very good leader, I’m convinced, but could she win against Colin?  I’m not so sure, now he’s showing he can pull support out of a bloody hat.  You, on the other hand…you could beat him.  The grass roots love you, our colleagues hold you in great esteem, and you know I’m pretty fond of you, too. I want you to at least promise you’ll think about it.”  Rodney’s words might have seemed desperate if his voice hadn’t remained calm.  The Chairman took a deep breath and held it.

“Not as many people as you think want…”  Jeremy paused.  “…want to be leader.  One day, perhaps, but right now it’s unthinkable.”

“I like to think after all these years we’re both on the same wavelength, that you would be able to carry on where I’d left off.  It’s only natural I’d want to have this discussion with you.”  He patted Jeremy firmly on the shoulder as they left, smiling. Perhaps, Jeremy concluded, anointing a successor gave Rodney a strange sense of relief, which he certainly did not share.   “Now let’s get to the lobby, otherwise I don’t think I’ll survive a lynching for missing
the
vote.”

*****

“But I thought you said that we needed a member of the Shadow Cabinet to support you, otherwise you wouldn’t be credible…”

            “Are you still here, talking to me?”  Colin hissed depreciatingly to his colleague as they entered Central Lobby.  “Sharkey’s going to cave, this time tomorrow we’ll be doing a joint press conference, you’ll see.  Matthew says...”

            “Matthew doesn’t know bloody everything!”  Fryer snapped, but Colin glared at his campaign manager over the outburst.  They ground to a halt on hitting a throng of noisy MPs and journalists.  Fryer hesitated, frowning, his bulky frame rocking slightly.    The Deputy Leader was about to berate him, Matthew was brilliant and Fryer certainly was not, but he suddenly replaced his annoyance with his trademark air of self-confidence on noticing a throng of journalists.  He forced a smile.

            “Actually, David, don’t go anywhere, we’re on.”   His arms swinging grandiosely by his side, Colin strode forward into the skirmish of news cameras.  Zoë Simpson noticed him coming into view as she recorded a piece to camera and, as he predicted, cut the recording, turned and seized her opportunity.

            “Hope you’re saying nice things about me, Zoë.”  Colin said with a sickening smile.  The professional in her brought out a light-hearted laugh at his quip as Fryer came up behind him, dwarfing his width. 

            “Hello, Colin.”  She drew him slightly to one side.  “Didn’t expect to see you here, changed your mind on abstaining?”

            He kept his smile fixed. “No, I just thought I’d come and make sure you lot knew I was around, not skulking in the corner.”

Fryer shifted uneasily, his small eyes darting about the Lobby as MPs of all parties hurried towards the Commons Chamber, the threats of their whips ringing in their ears along with the division bell.  Zoe turned and Colin’s gaze fell upon Rodney Richmond, accompanied by the Party Chairman and his ultra-sober PPS, a number of other sycophants snapping at his heels like overeager Jack Russells. Colin felt his pale complexion flushing and his jaw set; for a moment Richmond drew to a halt and their gazes met, locked in battle. A small group of Labour MPs had stopped to mock the obvious animosity across the Lobby, but Colin simply sniffed and turned his back.

Zoë Simpson flicked her stare back to Colin; considerably more bombastic, and considerably less easy on the eye than his rival.

“And when exactly are you handing in your resignation to Richmond? Before he sacks you, I assume?”  She continued.  Her tone became slightly more goading.  “His people have indicated that tomorrow morning you’ll be gone.”

 “We have yet to speak, although I cannot as yet confirm anything.”  Colin replied carefully.

“But you are not going to deny you are on the cusp of resigning, and challenging Richmond for the leadership?”  Zoe pushed.  “There are heavy rumours that you have only secured the twenty names to launch a challenge and you have a mountain to climb if you are to challenge Richmond and win...”

Colin waved her questioning away and simply shook his head, noticing Matthew moving across the Lobby.  He had heard that Anthea’s team were going round telling the press gallery that his attitude towards the Cornish Bill was ‘immature’ and ‘brazenly self-serving’, but he knew that he was the master of negative briefing and that Simpson was very much aware of the rumours about Rodney’s state of mind. 

Colin flashed a smile, but stuck to the agreed line.  “As you’ve already been briefed, Zoe, tomorrow morning’s press conference will be of great importance so I assume you’ll be there.  If you want the first interview afterwards, I suggest you speak to Matthew Gaines.”

Richmond had ventured through to Members Lobby while Colin kept his distance.  Colin’s cheerleaders, Gaines and Fryer, had gone ahead to scout, carefully watching as the Party Leader courted his colleagues, shoring up support for the battle ahead.  Robert Williams hung around him like a human shield.  Colin knew that the figures were tight, but that the odds on the Government winning were lengthening by the minute.  It had all been too much to hope for, but still, it was only a minor setback.

 He could see that his mere presence was making Richmond uneasy, no matter how many hands he shook, or supportive pats he received on his well-presented shoulders.  Richmond reminded him of a young foal, shielded by its herd from the ever-present danger as it grazed the cud.  But, eventually, darkness would fall, and the foal may wander from its protection, only to be caught alone by a stalking predator, a big beast with a bite so ferocious it could effortlessly snap a delicate neck. 

But, for now, the foal was safe.  Tomorrow however, drawn from the shadows and into the broad light of day, this big beast was moving in for the kill.

*****

9.45pm

The vote was cast.  Anthea and the Chief Whip poured over the figures again – without Colin Scott and David Fryer, they simply weren’t sure they could do it.  The numbers had changed by the hour the past few days, with Labour rebels either declaring themselves or deciding, with a little help from the powers-that-be, to cave and hurry behind the Bill.  The Labour rebels who were standing by their principles in public still couldn’t be trusted not to be spotted in the ‘No’ lobby when it came down to it.

            The anticipation in the Chamber was high as Anthea seated herself on the front bench after casting her own vote.  She noticed that Ian Harvey and the Government Chief Whip had at this late stage given up on steering rebels in the right direction and were talking furiously to each other by the Speaker’s chair. 

            “I think we might have done it – just.”  Bronwyn Davies told her quietly from across the bench.  “By one or two.  But I can’t say for certain, it depends on abstentions.”

            “Harvey looks worried enough.”  Anthea said, glancing at the Secretary of State.  Her outer calm hid her nerves and she hadn’t eaten for hours.  Although she had seen Rodney heading to the lobby with Jeremy she darted out of his sight.  She simply didn’t feel up to talking to him, to see that look she knew he would give her.

            “We’ve done it; we’ve only bloody done it!”  The devolution whip declared to Bronwyn after he had hurried down the steps to the front bench.  He gave Anthea a triumphant grin and shoved a crumpled piece of paper under Bronwyn’s nose.  Glancing round surreptitiously he lowered his voice.  “It’s bloody jammy on our part but thank God for a sudden surge of anti-Harvey feeling on the Labour backbenches.  Some story about him bullying a young female MP into supporting the Bill is coming out in a rag tomorrow.”

Bronwyn raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows as she scanned the figures then handed the paper to Anthea, but without warning, someone she had pushed firmly to the back of her mind placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Anthea.”  He said softly in her ear, leaning in from the bench behind. She turned her head to see Tristan’s startling blue eyes pleading with her.  He smiled sheepishly at her frosty expression.

“Anthea, can we talk after this?”  He whispered so quietly he was barely audible.  “I mean, I really think we should, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking the past few days and I don’t want it to continue like this…”

“Well you should have thought of that when you…”  Anthea bit her tongue and sighed.  “Look, I’ll probably have media to do, can’t we do it some other time?  This isn’t really the right evening.”  A lack of conviction in her own voice annoyed her.

“Please – Anthea. 
Please. 
I …I love you.” 

“Lock the doors!”  The Speaker commanded to signal the result was imminent.

Anthea was sure she saw a look of genuine remorse on Tristan’s face but she wanted to repeat, with force, that it wasn’t the right time and that the damage was done anyway, there was nothing left to discuss.

“Alright.  I may have
Newsnight
, so I’ll call you after that.”  She felt confused by his confession, but now was her time, her big moment.  The media would talk of it as a victory for Rodney Richmond but she and her team would revel in the success of their hard work.