Prime Deception (25 page)

Glancing at his watch, Charles was relieved to note that it was almost time for the current session of Parliament to conclude. But when he looked at the hands rotating around the clock face, he thought not of the time it was, but of when he received the watch. It had been an anniversary gift from Elaine about two years ago.

‘The man in the shop said it was imported from Switzerland,’ she had noted boastfully as Charles unwrapped the silver paper from around the box.

‘Isn’t it exquisite!’ she had gushed, rushing over to procure the new gift upon her husband’s left wrist. Charles had found the watch a little extravagant for his tastes, but he had worn it to appease Elaine and, soon enough, putting on his Rolex had become as natural a part of his morning routine as brushing his teeth.

It was Laurie who reminded him of his dislike of the watch when she noticed it one day, the branding peeking out from beneath his shirt sleeve.

‘You could buy a house for that,’ she said flatly, nodding at the watch. Embarrassed by the indulgent gift, Charles had quickly hidden it beneath his shirt, turning red.

But when he later thought about it, he himself had paid for the watch, and that angered him more than anything. Elaine was wasteful with money that wasn’t even hers. She enjoyed opulence but had not the capacity to fund it. Without his position as Deputy Prime Minister, she would have to sacrifice her luxury meals out and fancy holidays, as she would no longer be able to buy her way through life as ‘The Deputy Prime Minister’s wife’.

Charles pre-empted that her reaction to his resignation would be even more negative than the congregation of MPs had just been. And he knew that she would leave him, to seek someone richer and more powerful. Charles felt excited at the thought of relinquishing power. He had served his country well during his time as Deputy Prime Minister, but his bones ached and his eyes were always heavy. The country needed a strong, vibrant leader and Charles felt that they already that in Thomas Clarke.

The session of Parliament concluded and Charles left with the throng of suited men and women. Passing through the great, ancient doors he knew in his heart that it would be his last visit. He could sense how Lorna and Laurie had changed him in their own, unique ways. He was a better man for knowing them both.

After the raised voices of Parliament, the silence within Charles’ office felt more penetrating than usual. He had smiled and greeted Faye as he walked in and she had returned the gesture, her grin masking the cold sense of indifference she now felt towards him.

With the door safely secured behind him, Charles revelled in the absence of sound. He sat behind his task and soaked up the serene atmosphere. He was happiest at times like these, when everything was calm and quiet. The media circus which came attached to his job had always felt like such a hindrance but Elaine adored it. At functions she would pose for the cameras and flash them an insincere smile whilst Charles hovered awkwardly at her side. He was in it for the politics; she was in it for the fame.

Charles had always been aware of his wife’s intentions and there was a time that he believed that their differing agendas complemented one another well. She had handled the publicity side of things, leaving Charles free to focus solely on governing the country. But it soon became apparent that the differences between himself and his wife, now more evident than ever, were ultimately pulling them apart.

‘I don’t understand it Charles, why aren’t you happier?’ Elaine would protest as he reluctantly put on his shirt for yet another gala evening. ‘The entire country knows and loves you,’ she continued as she knotted her husband’s bow tie.

‘It’s just not me,’ Charles would sigh sadly.

‘Well, you are the Deputy Prime Minister now,’ Elaine said firmly, placing her hand beneath Charles’ chin and raising his face skyward. ‘It has to be you.’

For a long time, Charles struggled to identify why, despite having reached the pinnacle of his career, his life still felt empty and meaningless. He couldn’t discuss these feelings with Elaine as she would automatically jump to the incorrect conclusion that it was because she couldn’t have children, which would cause things to escalate into an argument which he didn’t want.

It wasn’t until Charles met Lorna that he finally realised what the cause of the vacuous hole within him was; he had never before known love. It sounded so contrite and cookie-cutter, but Charles knew it was the truth. Being with Lorna made him feel alive, as though before he had been living as a ghost. He continued to regret his decision to choose his career over Lorna. He should have ended things with Elaine and turned his back on politics over a year ago, and then he could have been with Lorna and been happy. But then there was Laurie.

Laurie made Charles feel alive but in a completely different way to Lorna. When they spoke, she engaged his very soul and it was enlightening. With Lorna, their relationship had very much been physical. Now, when he thought of Laurie, he wanted more than anything to consummate what he felt certain was between them. But he was determined to do things correctly this time. He would date Laurie, he would woo her, he would be normal for her.

He was too blinded by his own feelings to ever consider that they perhaps weren’t reciprocated.

The mobile phone in his jacket whirred to life and Charles retrieved it and glanced at the screen, feeling his heart sink when he saw Elaine’s name. He pressed the cancel button, sending her to voicemail already knowing what she would say. She would chastise him for appearing bored during Parliament. She always watched the live broadcasts from home and then tore him apart afterwards. What began as constructive criticism, quickly descended into a character assassination.

‘You were on television?’ Lorna asked excitedly one evening when they were together after Charles had spent the afternoon in Parliament.

‘Yes, on the BBC,’ the Deputy Prime Minister had answered, suddenly feeling shy and incredibly self-conscious.

‘Oh,’ Lorna had answered, her tone lowered in disappointment.

‘Oh?’ Charles echoed with interest.

‘I don’t watch the feed from the House of Commons,’ Lorna explained, her cheeks flushing with slight shame which Charles found endearing.

‘Why not?’

‘Because people behave appallingly in there. They shout and bark at one another with the vagrant demeanour of schoolboys. It’s embarrassing to see the people who are supposed to be leading this country behaving this way.’

‘It gets heated in there because everyone is passionate about running the country and people aren’t always going to agree about how things should be done.’

‘But there is a proper way to air your grievances and shouting isn’t it,’ Lorna declared sternly.

On reflection, Charles theorised that whilst Lorna disproved of the conduct within the House of Commons, Laurie would probably lap it up. Laurie devoured the news with interest and had an opinion on every political agenda. He found himself wondering with boyish interest if Laurie had watched him on television earlier that day. He hoped that she had, but he hoped that it had not been out of political interest.

His mobile phone vibrated again and Charles sighed in frustration but then felt his mood immediately lift when he saw that the movement was signalling a received text from Laurie. He eagerly opened the message to read it, his heart racing with anticipation.

Things weren’t good at home so coming back to London today. See you tomorrow x

The addition of a kiss on the end of the message left Charles feeling elated. He read those few words over and over until they were permanently etched into his memory. His concern over her mention of things being bad at home was overshadowed by his excitement of the implications of the inclusion of a kiss.

Clutching his phone, Charles sat beaming in the sanctuary of his office. Change was coming; he could smell it in the air. He continued to savour the quiet around him, inhaling it as he let his mind fantasise over what might transpire with Laurie. It was the calm before the storm and he wanted to enjoy every last moment of it.

Chapter Thirteen

Exit wounds

Arthur Dolan was angry. He read for the second time the message he had just received from Laurie and he felt the blood within his veins curdle with fury. She had returned to London despite his protests. As per what had become the usual trend, she had completely ignored and dismissed what he had said to her. At first, Arthur was patient and tolerant, constantly mindful of the tragedy which had struck his girlfriend’s family. But twelve months of being sidelined by the person he had initially planned to spend the rest of his life with had driven from him his last ounce of patience.

‘Why do you do it to yourself?’ his mother asked wearily when she noticed her son gazing out of his bedroom window pensively, his phone welded into the palm of his hand. She instinctively knew what was troubling his young mind and it pained her to see him suffer so greatly at a time in his life when he should be indulging in carefree and reckless behaviour.

Ignoring his mother, Arthur sighed and released his grip on his phone, letting it fall down to the carpeted floor with a soft thud.

‘No matter how hard you wish for it, she won’t come back to you,’ she continued, sitting on the edge of his bed and regarding him with a sorrowful expression. Arthur’s mother knew heartache far too intimately. His father had left her when he was only three-years-old for a younger woman. She had wasted her own life wishing for his return, only because she longed for the satisfaction of turning him away.

‘She’s just hurting,’ Arthur answered, feeling fatigued that he was about to enter into a conversation which he’d had with his mother a thousand times.

‘Of course. And you’ve been patient, far more patient than other men would have been. But you don’t deserve to suffer, Art. You need to live your own life and have fun. Young lads shouldn’t be cooped up in their bedrooms pining.’

‘I’m not Dad!’ Arthur scowled angrily. ‘I won’t leave her.’

‘But it looks like she’s left you.’

Arthur tried to block out his mother’s words. As long as he still loved Laurie, she must surely continue to love him in return.

‘Please, don’t be foolish Art …’

‘Get out!’ Arthur yelled, pointing to his bedroom door.

‘Sweetheart, please, I’m just trying to help,’ his mother reasoned as she slowly rose to her feet.

‘No, you are trying to dictate my life! I’m not Dad so stop acting like I’m as bad as him!’

‘I don’t think that you are behaving like your father,’ his mother answered indignantly. ‘I’m worried that you are behaving like me.’ Her tone was now sad and reflective as she obeyed her son’s orders and left his bedroom. She had hoped that could spare him the pain of unrequited love, but as she watched him gaze sadly out of his window at the rolling green fields in the distance, she knew that she had failed.

With his mother gone, Arthur leant down and retrieved his phone and read again the message from Laurie. He sighed in desperation, uncertain of his next move. Then, impetuously he dialled her number.

‘Arthur,’ Laurie picked up after four rings, her voice sounding distinctively annoyed.

‘Why are you in London?’ Arthur tried to conceal how hurt he was as he spoke. Laurie sighed deeply before responding.

‘I have some things to sort out still.’

‘You need to come home.’

‘No. I don’t.’

‘I want you to come home,’ Arthur pleaded.

‘Arthur I can’t, I’m sorry. There are things that I need to do here.’

‘Haven’t you already done enough?’

For a moment there was only static silence between them as Laurie contemplated what she should say.

‘I don’t expect you to wait for me forever,’ her voice was small and barely audible.

‘What?’ Arthur asked, suddenly disgruntled.

‘I know how awkward I’ve been,’ Laurie began to explain but Arthur interrupted her.

‘No! I’m not letting you do this!’ he cried in to the phone. He could feel his heart rate increasing in panic at the implications of her words. He wouldn’t let her go. He refused to.

‘Arthur, please,’ Laurie said sadly.

‘Laurie you are my other half, how can you not see that? I said I’d wait for you and I’m happy to keep waiting. I just need to know that you are going to come back to me.’

‘I can’t promise that,’ Laurie replied honestly.

‘But why not? There was a time when you would have promised me forever.’

‘Forever doesn’t exist.’

Laurie knew how brutal her words were as she said them, but her own ill-feeling from her encounter at the cemetery was spilling over into the conversation and she was powerless to stop it. Lorna had been her constant once, but that had changed. Laurie was fearful to place that level of dependence upon anyone else. She wanted to close her heart off from any future pain; to live a life of cold indifference. At least that way she wouldn’t hurt any more than she already did. She doubted she could handle any more pain.

‘I love you.’ Arthur whispered the three tiny words which had the potential to combust most situations. He felt like he had opened up his chest and revealed his beating heart to her, only to have Laurie stab a knife through the centre of it.

‘I need to go.’ She delivered the devastating blow and Arthur felt the pain of it within his chest which now felt concave. His heart continued to beat with a reluctant necessity, which to Arthur felt pointless.

Sat alone in her ghostly London apartment, Laurie hung up the phone and looked up to the ceiling, as if hoping to contact Lorna from the heavens above for some much-needed advice. She wanted to cry but nothing came; her body was currently dry of tears which didn’t surprise her. Over the past twelve months she had cried away her soul. She went to raise herself up to shower but her phone beeped, signalling a message. It was from Arthur. Laurie braced herself for whatever spiteful goodbye she had anticipated, but he simply said:

I won’t let you go x

There was a hint of menace within the message which made Laurie feel uneasy but she doubted that it was intentional. Dismissing it, she continued over to the bathroom.