Party Games (40 page)

‘Thanks, but I think it’s a bit too late for talking.’

The car park outside County Hall was rammed, so Fleur had to use a side street to park. By the time she hared in, the meeting was about to start. Hundreds of people looked down at her. To her relief she spotted Ginny Chamberlain in the public gallery, with a spare seat next to her.

‘Oh hello, Fleur dear. What a surprise to see you here.’

Ginny was dressed in her normal bright clothes, but Fleur was shocked by her appearance. She had always been round and reassuringly mother-like, but now she looked like she’d halved in size. Fleur wondered if she was ill.
Not Ginny
, she prayed. Ginny was one of the lovely people in life.

Even with the air conditioning up full blast it was uncomfortably warm. People were fanning themselves, a mixture of heat and nerves. The press had taken up the entire first row. Fleur saw Catherine Connor sitting upright, looking very poised in a khaki shirtdress. Directly across the room was a man Fleur recognized as Sid Sykes, talking intently to a younger man in a grey suit beside him.

The thirty-nine members of the county council sat at their desks in the middle of the room, looking awfully serious. The leader of the council was at the front of the
chamber, next to the mayor. The latter reminded Fleur of a fat robin in his red robes.

A clock chimed outside. The chatter in the room died away. The leader of the council addressed the room.

‘Good morning, everyone and thank you for coming. First off, apologies from one of our councillors, who is unable to attend due to ill-health.’ He glanced at the clock again. ‘We’re here to discuss the amended proposals by Sykes Holdings, for the Ye Olde Worlde development on the site of Blaize Castle in Beeversham. The original plans were advised for amendment by this council on the fourth of July this year, after the planning officer raised three areas of concern.’

Heads round the chamber nodded furiously.

‘I understand emotions have been running high on this particular case,’ the leader continued. ‘The council is sensitive to the difference of opinion on both sides. I would now like to take the unusual step of inviting Felix Chamberlain to say a few words.’

Felix stood up from his seat. ‘Ladies and gentlemen.’

Fleur noticed how much Ginny’s hands were shaking. Sensing Fleur’s gaze, she tugged her sleeves down, but not before Fleur saw the large black bruise on her left wrist.

‘This is a life-changing day for Beeversham,’ Felix told the packed court. ‘We are a friendly town, a hardworking town, who welcome newcomers as warmly as we welcome our own. We are bound together by a sense of community, our heritage and a love for the countryside. If Ye Olde Worlde gets the go-ahead, it will destroy everything that this town stands for. I urge you, members of the council, to consider the history of
our market town, as well as the future of all who live there. Thank you.’

It was short, but to the point. Felix sat down again. A thin sheen of sweat had formed on his brow. Fleur watched Sykes’s face. He could have been listening to the football results, he seemed so unconcerned.

The leader of the council turned to Team Sykes. ‘Now I’d like to invite Damien Sykes, spokesman for Sykes Holdings.’

Damien may have looked like a Sicilian gangster, but his voice was pure public school.

‘I would like to read a statement on behalf of my father, Mr Sidney Sykes. “As a conscientious member of society and happily married father of four …”’

‘Here we go,’ groaned one of the reporters.

‘“Ye Olde Worlde has always been about much more than financial gain for me.”’ This time there were actual snorts from the press pack, earning themselves a disapproving look from the mayor.

‘“I firmly believe that from my position of privilege, I can create a world, a happy, carefree world where the British people can forget about their problems and learn to love life again.”’

Even some of the council rolled their eyes at that one, but Damien wasn’t finished yet. ‘“Aside from the fun factor, Ye Olde Worlde will create hundreds of much-needed new jobs. I’m willing to dig into my pockets, and invest in the future of the people of the Gloucestershire. Let’s build a bigger, better England together.”’

‘What a load of rubbish!’ Amanda Belcher bristled in her seat. ‘As if Sykes is doing all this out of the goodness of his heart!’

‘Quiet, please!’ the leader called crossly. He looked down at his notes again.

‘Here in front of me are the revised proposals of Sykes Holdings. The planning officer has been through them in full. I will now read those proposals out.’

‘Point one: the concern of environmental blight. Sykes Holdings have promised significant landscaping and remedial work to ensure the development is in keeping with the surrounding area.’

All that could be heard was the gentle humming of the air conditioning. A car exhaust backfired outside in the street.

‘Point two: insufficient transport structure. Sykes Holdings have promised a new roundabout and traffic-light system on the congested road out of Beeversham, which residents can make use of, as well as visitors to the park. In time they would also propose a Beeversham bypass.’

‘Oh great, let’s carve up even more of the countryside,’ someone shouted.

‘Not to mention taking away passing trade from the town centre,’ cried Mr Patel.

The leader started to look irritated. Mrs Patel laid a placatory hand on her husband’s thigh.

‘The third concern was the inappropriate scale of the development to Beeversham and the surrounding area. Again, Sykes Holdings propose to landscape accordingly.’

‘As if a topiary hedge is going to hide a bloody great theme park!’ someone else yelled.

People dared to exchange hopeful looks. The leader of the council spoke again.

‘Sykes Holdings have also proposed one more amendment. As well as the Ye Olde Worlde theme park, they’ve put in plans to build a thousand affordable homes on the site, to address the current shortage of housing across Gloucestershire.’

Sharp gasps echoed around the room. Ginny Chamberlain went so pale Fleur thought she was going to faint. The journalists started conferring excitedly.

A babble of voices rose up. ‘You can’t do that!’ someone shouted. ‘It’s a bloody outrage!’

‘Quiet!’ the leader of the council said crossly. ‘I think we’ve heard enough. It’s time to vote.’

He looked faintly embarrassed. ‘Unfortunately, our new electronic voting system has crashed, so we’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.’

He stood up. ‘Ladies and gentlemen of the council, can I have a show of hands voting against Ye Olde Worlde?’

The female councillor nearest Catherine put her hand up straight away. Catherine smiled at her gratefully.

One by one, the hands went up. Everyone started frantically counting.

‘Nineteen against,’ the leader declared. ‘And now, all those in favour.’

More hands started to go up. Ten, twelve, fifteen, sixteen. When it got to nineteen Catherine felt sick. They were going to get it.

‘I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to abstain,’ the remaining female councillor said. ‘Moral reasons.’

It was nineteen either way. Stalemate. There was one person left to vote. All eyes were on the leader of
the county council.
Come on
, Catherine willed him.
See sense and put us all out of our misery
.

The atmosphere was electric. The leader raised his hand aloft like a gladiator.
Live. Or die
.

‘I vote,’ he paused, ‘in favour of Ye Olde Worlde.’

There was a moment of utter shock and then Mrs Patel burst into tears. ‘How could they?’ she cried out.

People were either stunned or very emotional. No one could believe it.

‘Order, order!’ the leader of the council shouted. ‘The result is as follows: twenty votes to nineteen in favour of Ye Olde Worlde. I now declare the motion passed. Planning permission for the development is granted!’

Sid Sykes jumped up and smoothed his tie down. He shook hands with the man on his left, before clapping his son Damien on the back. Smug didn’t even start to describe it. They filed out, protected by burly minders.

Catherine watched them go. A very real anger started to bubble up. This wasn’t about a desire to improve society; it was a greedy, ruthless man’s pursuit to line his pockets. How could such an injustice be allowed to happen?

The leader of the council also made a sharp exit, followed by most of his colleagues. Felix just sat there, gazing into space. People went to approach him, but seeing the expression on his face, backed away again. It was like intruding on the grief of a man who’d just lost everything.

The producer’s voice sounded in Vanessa’s ear. ‘Conrad, we need a little more expression.’

‘I am giving you bloody expression,’ he hissed. ‘It’s called nuance!’

The crew exchanged looks. No one dared bring up the subject of Conrad’s frozen face. He’d turned up at the dress rehearsal at the Royal Albert Hall looking like a cross between Sharon Osbourne and the Bride of Wildenstein.

‘I told you not to have Botox so close to the ceremony,’ Vanessa said.

She got a malevolent look in return. ‘What do you know, you wrinkled old hag!’

One of the cameramen was reading a discarded copy of that week’s
OK!
He looked at the couple, then back at the magazine again.

‘I’ve had enough of this. I’m an artist, not a performing seal!’ Conrad pulled out his earpiece and stalked off the stage.

Vanessa was left standing up there by herself.

‘Conrad’s just got a headache,’ she said apologetically.

‘He’s giving
me
a fucking headache,’ the producer sighed.

Thank God they’d been given separate dressing rooms; it was bad enough sharing a stage with him. Vanessa sank down in a chair and put her head in her hands. Her iPhone started ringing. It was the Beeversham phone box she’d come to know so well. She snatched it up joyfully.

‘Where are you?’ Dylan asked her.

‘The Royal Albert Hall.’

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Totally sick. Oh, Dylan, I don’t know if I can do it.’

‘You can do it,’ he said. ‘I’ll be there watching you.’

‘Wait, hold on a minute. You’re not coming here?’

‘You won’t even know I’m there.’ He sounded resolute. ‘I’m not letting you do this by yourself. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything stupid. And don’t worry about the dogs; Renata is minding them.’

Vanessa couldn’t even imagine how that arrangement had happened. ‘You’re crazy,’ she said happily.

There was a knock on the door. ‘Mrs Powell? We’re ready to start again.’

‘I have to go,’ she told him.

‘I love you. You can do this, Vanessa. It’s just one more day.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ she whispered. Tomorrow was the biggest night of her life, let alone her career.

A runner was leaning against the wall as she walked back out. The girl looked up from her iPhone. ‘Holy shit. Ye Olde Worlde got the go-ahead!’

The show had to go on. When Catherine went out campaigning that afternoon, she was met by anger and fear. Everyone was furious Ye Olde Worlde had got permission. No one wanted it. No one understood why it had happened.

In the very worst of times, the best things could happen as well. For once Catherine was united with her constituents on a common goal.

‘It’s a disgrace,’
she was quoted on the local news that evening.
‘The people of Beeversham won’t go down without a fight. I want to take this all the way to parliament and see what they have to say about it.’

That evening people met in Bar 47. There seemed little else to do than have a drink and be with friends. Catherine arrived at ten o’clock, well after all the others. A solemn atmosphere met her. Everyone sat round looking shell-shocked. They had the stunned faces of people who’d just survived a near-fatal rocket attack.

No one knew where the Chamberlains were. They’d left straight after the verdict in their car and hadn’t been seen since.

At least Catherine had been wrenched out of her own misery for the time being. Felix was still her campaign manager. To go AWOL at such an important moment … He must have been hit even harder than they’d thought.

‘Have you heard from John?’ Mr Patel asked Catherine, receiving a sharp jab in the ribs from his wife.

‘We can still appeal to the council,’ Mel said hopefully.

‘Won’t make any difference,’ Mr Patel said gloomily. ‘We’ve been tossed to the wolves and no one cares.’

One of the ewes had got wedged under the hedge. Fleur had a hell of a job to pull it out. By the time she did, both were stinking and exhausted. The ewe’s lamb stood a short way back, watching anxiously. After checking the mother’s legs, Fleur patted the animal on the back. ‘Nothing wrong with you, off you go.’

She watched mother and baby reunite, the ewe rubbing her face against her offspring’s neck. She thought wistfully that it must be nice to have someone to depend on like that.

For the umpteenth time that morning, she looked across at the high ridge of Blaize Castle. Ye Olde Worlde was approaching, seemingly unstoppable after yesterday’s verdict. She tried to imagine a huge Disney castle looming down on the town. The idea was horrific.

When she had broken the news to her dad he’d seemed strangely unmoved. In fact, he’d seemed almost happy. Resigned, like he’d given up. She had been left seriously worried her dad might be about to
do something foolish. For the first time, she had contemplated staging some sort of intervention.

It was ironic, seeing as her own life was tumbling down like a pack of cards. She looked across the fields to Ridings for the thousandth time. She’d heard the whirr of the helicopter late last night, so she knew Beau was back. She’d broken her resolve at 2 a.m. and sent him a text, but there had been no reply.

An unpleasant sheep smell wafted off her, adding to her despair. It reminded her of the time when Beau had found her in the field covered in cow mucus. She’d hated him so much back then. If only she’d known then how things would turn out.

Suddenly, something stirred inside her. Something she hadn’t felt for a long time. Determination. How dare Beau swan in and pursue her, then drop her like some used toy? She wasn’t going to stand for it, and she wasn’t going to be messed around, either.
I’m going over there now and telling him
. If that was it between them, she was going to come out with her dignity intact.