Party Games (44 page)

            “I’m sorry, for everything.”  Tristan meant it, despite her continuing bitterness.  He owed Nicole everything for keeping quiet about his past, and now for finally granting him a divorce, although he suspected she wanted to marry again.  He wished her luck.

It was 11.10pm.   All Tristan could do was wait in anticipation for the phone call he had been promised.  He had done his duty that night by passing through the lobby like the good, loyal Member he had resigned himself to being, his alliance with Colin well and truly broken. He was looking forward to becoming a more productive Parliamentary player and atone for at least some of his sins.  He also hoped Anthea would see he had changed and that he was no longer either the brow-beaten fool he had been as Chief Whip, nor afterwards the spiteful rebel so vividly depicted in recent press articles. 

            Tristan sat slumped in front of the end of
Newsnight
, recent Public Accounts reports piled up around him.  He watched, almost trance-like, as the following day’s newspaper front pages were revealed.  Anthea had been interviewed at 10.35 and assuming it had been her last interview of the night she would have headed home, but his mobile still hadn’t rung.  The broadsheet headlines focussed on Harvey’s swift exit and the embarrassment caused to the PM, but to block some of the bad coverage the
Engager
was to carry the headline ‘TORIES AT WAR’, with an unflattering picture of Richmond’s face, slightly sweaty, open-mouthed and bearing a worried expression, nose-to-nose with a fierce, close-up shot of Colin Scott, animated and jabbing his finger.  Tristan wondered whether Rosie Lambert enjoyed vilifying both her former toy-boys so crudely, but he decided self-preservation must be a strong instinct for a newspaper editor. Readership was more important than a passionate fumble at a party, or indeed the kinky nights she had enjoyed once upon a time with the Deputy.      
Newsnight’s
credits were rolling.  He flopped his head back and shut his eyes, a weighty report into government IT systems lying unopened on his lap.  His phone remained silent.

*****

He stepped out of the shower and wrapped himself in a towel.  For a moment he stood on the cool tiles, the drips of excess water tickling his body and the steam of the bathroom filling his nostrils and blurring his vision.  This was alone time; not a member of staff, nor a colleague in sight, and he felt as if he should be relieved.  Wiping the mirror with his fist Rodney peered at his own reflection through the reforming condensation.  The handsome face so familiar to many appeared vulnerable and pale, the brown eyes which stared back on themselves without the spark of only a few hours ago. 

            Rodney hadn’t brought himself to watch Anthea’s turn on
Newsnight
.  He felt more than a little raw, but knew he had to learn to accept her decision and get over it.  He would hide it well, carry on with the job he clumsily admitted he would give up for her, smile for those cameras and relish a leadership election which would finally end this charade with Colin. 

            Staring into the fridge Rodney thought of his mother.  What would she say about the mess he had made?  Lost in thought he continued to stand by the fridge until the door bell startled him.  The news of his late-night visitor certainly surprised him, and he almost said to turn her away as she was the last person he wanted – or expected – to have seen that night.  He would have to treat her with suspicion at the very least, but after struggling with his conscience and his common sense, agreed with his security to let her in.

            “Hello, Rodney.”  Jenny said, pursing her lips as Rodney closed the door hurriedly behind her.  “Did you get my birthday card?”

            “What the hell are you doing here?  You can’t come here anymore!” Rodney rubbed his forehead in disbelief; here was the woman who tried to bring him down, large as life and looking beautiful in a knee length rich red skirt over her slim hips, complimenting her black hair, curled into a style which almost looked girlish in its appearance but suited her strong, alluring features.  Her simple black top was low cut enough to encourage Rodney’s eyes to wander, however fleetingly.  She was staring at him quizzically in the doorway, her head cocked to one side.

            “I was just passing, and, well, anyway, did you get it?”  She asked with an encouraging widening of her eyes.

            “Yes, I did, but I can’t call you, not after everything!  You shouldn’t be here!”  Rodney turned and headed into his living room, confused by the flush of conflicting emotions Jenny’s sudden presence had caused.  She followed him in silence, dumping a plastic bag in the wide hallway while watching him closely.

“Don’t you understand what you’ve done?”  Rodney said.  “I trusted you – at the time.  We had been through so much together, but…”

“But then I found out that you had been screwing my mother!”  Jenny snapped, crossing her arms.  “While my father was still alive!”

 “It was
once
while he was alive and I regret it very much!”

Jenny gave an incredulous gasp.  “Yes, because he killed himself, then you did it
again
!
 
You just ignored the truth – ignored the hurt it caused me; caused Daddy?”

“Our relationship had irrevocably broken down well before you found out although I bet she told you herself out of spite!”  Rodney glared indignantly at his former girlfriend; how
dare
she turn up, incredibly late, simply to hurl accusations just when he faced one of the worst days of his leadership.

            Jenny laughed mockingly.  “Of course she didn’t tell me herself, her best friend did after she bragged about you to her, and it sickened her as much as she knew it would sicken me.  Mummy never did care about my feelings and neither, it seems, did you! 
That’s
why I went to the
Bulletin
, to get at her as much as you.  I even think I’ll write a book about you, it’d sell like bloody hot cakes.”

“Ok so if you want all this out in the open then fine!”  Rodney noticed Jenny’s eyes flickering around the room, taking in what were once familiar surroundings.  “So you’re here to gloat at the mess you helped precipitate?  Your mother is just an excuse in all of this, I really didn’t think you would still be so bitter. 
You
walked out on
me
remember!  Why not just move on?  Why say all those things, do you really not want me to succeed that much?”

Tears had formed in Jenny’s eyes, threatening to fall.  Rodney couldn’t recall a single time he had seen Jennifer Lambert cry.  She would yell, curse, even throw things on occasion, but tears were a new type of emotional blackmail. 

“I tried to love you Rodney – hell I fancied you enough like so many other bloody women it seems, but you treated me like another one of your colleagues…”

“I didn’t mean to, but I wanted your support, for Christ’s sake!”  Rodney felt angry.  “But we’re in the past, over with.  I have other worries right now in case you’ve been reading just about yourself in the papers lately.”

“That’s why I wanted to apologise.”  Jenny said softly. “I’ve got it out my system, I’m not bitter any more.  I don’t think I shouldn’t be angry but I hate what I did so had to say sorry in person to try to justify it as best I can. I’m sorry you will have to face Colin again, I suppose I just didn’t think through what the result of my actions might be.”

Oh yes you did, I know you too well
, Rodney thought.  He glanced towards the living room door in a heavy hint for her to leave but she had walked over to his sideboard where her card had been placed.  He was sure she thought he hadn’t seen her smile as she picked it up and idly re-read her own penmanship. 

“Do you want a drink or something?  Still like lime and soda?”  Rodney found himself asking.  He had a mountain of work to get through and he was late ringing Deborah.  Jenny peered at him over her shoulder, her gaze fixing on him.  She sniffed; that same air of superiority that had grated with Rodney in the final weeks of their relationship, and took tentative steps as she looked around the living room, interest on her face.

            “Yes, thanks.  I like what you’ve done to this place, it’s better than that cottage thingy you’ve got in Winchester, I bet you’ve still not sorted out that draft upstairs.”

            “I’ve got a cleaner here,” Rodney replied, ignoring her dig.  He remembered just how much he hated being belittled by her.  “She keeps it nice and I like it here.  I know it’s not in the best part of London but I’m not moving to somewhere upmarket just because I feel I should.”

            “Gosh, Rodney Richmond knowing your own mind – tut, tut, that Chief of Staff of yours won’t like that one little bit.”  Jenny sucked in her cheeks but Rodney noted her facetious comment without response. He handed her the drink as she eyed the pile of confidential-looking papers on the coffee table.  She had some sort of announcement to make, Rodney could sense it.  He switched on the radio in the kitchen to catch
Today in Parliament
; something to break the silences between them.

Jenny threw Rodney a depreciating look.  “You don’t stop thinking about work for a minute, do you?  Look - it wasn’t in the papers but I’ve just got a job as a fundraising director for Labour, I thought you should hear it from me and not one of your
people
.”

             “If that’s the case then we shouldn’t even be speaking, we both know that.”  Rodney had thought that nothing this woman could do could surprise him any longer but he had to give her credit for this little declaration. “And anyway I thought you hated party politics, what did you used to call it, institutionalism by the back door?  You’ve given up all your charity work to work for
Labour
again?  Not just to keep getting at me, surely.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rodney.  Contrary to popular belief my whole life isn’t governed by you.”  Jenny took a gulp of her drink then indicated to the bag. “I thought you might want something to eat so decided to make my bacon risotto special.  Boy did those security freaks search my bags downstairs, like I’m some Shakespearean tragedy about to happen, although I bet Deborah’s got you on a diet has she?”

“Jenny, it’s gone eleven thirty, I was going to sit in bed and read until I fell asleep while wondering how the hell I’m going to…”  He snapped his mouth shut, mindful of the consequences of his words.  At least she had been honest enough to tell him she was now working for the other side.

“How the hell you’re going to see off a challenge from Colin comfortably?”  Jenny asked teasingly.  She picked up the bag and strode into the kitchen.  “Don’t worry you don’t have to answer, I know I’m the enemy.  I just thought – well, you might like company.  Don’t you ever get lonely?  I do, all the time.”  She observed casually, hunting in a drawer.  The Leader watched her intently yet with caution, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.  This was how it used to be, Rodney listening while Jenny talked, dominating their relationship while his own worries were pushed aside.  Here she was again, disrupting his life with thoughts about her he never considered he would have again.   

“I’ve had a couple of brief flings since you, both people high up in the Labour Party, fun at the time but nothing that’s lasted.”  Jenny announced, as if Rodney had asked. She began frying an onion. 

Rodney couldn’t help but laugh out loud.  “God, Jenny, you really are priceless!”

“What?”  She shrugged, crushing a garlic clove.

“Between you and your mother I don’t know who is the most hypocritical.”

“Says Rodney Richmond.”  Jenny retorted.  “It goes both ways you know, you had your big Tory ambitions but you knew exactly what you were doing during
that
liaison with my very lefty Mummy at the
Engager
party not so long ago.” 

            Rodney grunted disapprovingly at her observation and poured a glass of wine.  He needed something rather much stronger than lime and soda, although by the way Jenny was eyeing up the bottle she wasn’t thinking of driving anywhere anytime soon.

“I’m glad I’ve managed to humiliate her, oh and Colin Scott, of course.  Thought I’d do you a favour.  God, she loved all that freaky stuff and his only complaints involved a ‘safe’ word.  So bloody weird.” 

Wondering if she had noticed he wasn’t answering her back, he downed half his glass then refilled it.  He felt incredibly hot for the time of year, his shirt sticking to his arms and a neat line of sweat down his spine.  Colin Scott and Rosie were the last people he wanted to think about.

“Oh dear, here I am again, upsetting you.  You can’t deny I’ve never been anything than a straight talker, Rodney, and d’you know what I think?  I think that you
like
the fact I’ve always told it as it is, I’m not one of your circle who just pats you on the head with one hand while shoving unfavourable opinion polls in the bin with the other.  Come on admit it, you’ve missed me.”  She faced him with a sultry smile.  “You miss the fun we had together in those early days when you didn’t have to tell that Deborah every time you took a dump, or, I hasten to add, got laid.  Chop this bacon, will you?  Saw the clip of you at the school, baking a cake like you’ve any idea how to cook a thing.” 

Rodney couldn’t help the slip of a smile on his lips.  He had missed her, it was true, her bluntness was as refreshing as it was irritating but it wasn’t unwelcome.  In short bursts she was good for him, long-term she was a disaster.  No wonder her ‘brief flings’ had been just that, no man could take it for as long as he had.  The rice bubbled hypnotically in the pan.  Risotto was her speciality and already it smelled wonderful.     

“And have you?”  Jenny turned to wash her hands, her delicate perfume an alluring aroma and her black hair catching the light against the alabaster skin of her neck.

“Have I what?”  Rodney asked, feeling a little heady. 

“Got laid, silly, although if you’ve been with dear old Rosie again I’d rather not know this time.”