“Thank you Nigel, that’s very kind. Can I get you anything, cup of tea, glass of wine, or something?”
Nigel looked at Andrew and noted the brandy in his hand, he nodded toward it. “I’ll have one of those, thank you.”
Andrew could have laughed at the air of strained politeness, it was so alien to the comments Molly made when they were on their own.
“Just go through to the lounge mate, we’re settled in there,” Andrew said and followed his friend in. It was a peculiar thing, an established pattern of behaviour that Andrew always sat on the easy chair, Molly on the right-hand side of the sofa, Nigel on the opposite end. The middle was left, like a buffer zone between the two. Andrew had just sat upon his chair when he stood up again as Molly entered the room, he was too wired to sit, pacing seemed like the more appropriate action. It matched the nervous energy swirling through his body, because the more he’d talked to Molly, the more he’d began to believe he could actually do this thing, run for PM.
Molly took her place on the settee.
This time there was no hesitation in Andrew voice as he spoke, “I want to run for PM.”
Nigel immediately leapt to his feet, a broad grin on his face. “Well, about bloody time,” he commented, pumping Andrew’s arm up and down in a vigorous handshake.
“It is, isn’t it,” Molly agreed, and then she was on her feet again, holding onto Andrew’s other arm as the three just stood, delight on their faces, laced heavily with excitement. It was as if they alone were the keepers of some extraordinary secret.
“So, you approve?” Nigel asked Molly.
“Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?” she replied.
“No reason, I just-”
“Now, now, you two let’s just be happy we’re all on the same page and take it from there.”
“Of course,” Molly agreed, flashing Nigel a rather forced smile.
Nigel mumbled something in return and took his seat, drank his brandy almost in one go, and then grinned once more.
“This is great news Andrew, truly, and not before time either.”
“Well, I wanted to make sure the idea sat comfortably with me, before I revealed it to you two.”
“And now it does?” Nigel asked.
“Yeah,” now Andrew grinned as he spoke, “it really does.”
“Fantastic.” Nigel jumped to his feet once more.
“There’ll be lots to do, and the timing needs to be just right, show our hand too early and that’s it. I’ll start sounding out a few people, see which way the back benchers are moving, although my gut is they’d like a more right-wing approach.”
Andrew nodded and paced, taking a few seconds to respond. “I’ve already decided where my campaign will be rooted.”
Nigel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You have?”
“Yes, and Molly agrees with me. I think we need a party that offers something for all, with policies behind which the government can unite as a whole.”
Now it was Nigel’s turn to take a moment, he ran his hand through his hair and seemed to contemplate the design of the rug for longer than it actually merited. “You are aware how politics works aren’t you? I mean you are Chancellor-”
“I don’t think-” Molly interrupted him, just as Andrew in turn stopped her.
“Molly, its fine, let Nigel speak.”
“Well, I’m not sure you need me to say anything, as you’ve obviously weighed public opinion, talked to Party members, sanctioned opinion polls etc because how else would you have come up with such a fantastic idea.”
“Come on Nigel-”
“No, you come on Andrew. For fuck’s sake, sorry Molly, but really, cross party support, the holy grail of politics. Do you really think it’s going to be that easy?”
“Of course not,” Andrew felt the anger simmering below the surface of his remarks. “But that’s the mandate I intend to try and run on.”
“You intend to…you intend to run on, you’re a politician for f…god’s sake, you’re not some idealistic kid off the street, you know how this works.” Nigel and Andrew were almost nose to nose now.
“Yes, I do, and I want something different for the Party, for the country and Molly-”
“Molly,” Nigel’s voice was perilously close to a yell, “oh, I’m sorry, are we now making decisions based on the whims of our wives.”
“Hey,” Molly shouted. “There is nothing wrong with getting a fresh perspective on things.”
Nigel turned to face her now. “And you would be qualified to give that fresh perspective would you?”
“Nigel,” Andrew could no longer contain his anger. “That’s enough, I think you’d better leave and we can discuss this further tomorrow, when we’ve all had time to calm down. I’ll see you out.”
“I can see myself out,” Nigel shouted as he left the room, “As long as that’s okay with your wife.”
The door slammed behind him.
“Well.” Andrew puffed out a deep breath as he turned back to Molly. “That could have gone better.
“Well, what did you expect, he’s like a spoilt brat having a hissy fit because you dared make a decision without him.” Molly sat back on the sofa, arms and legs crossed, her foot tapping a furious pace.
“I’m sure he’ll be better once he calms down,” Andrew sat down also, as he spoke. The thing was, however, he wasn’t at all sure Nigel would see things from his perspective and the thought of entering the political bull pit without him, well that scared the hell out of him.
“I doubt it,” Molly pressed the point, “He’s been forced to live his political dreams through you, and he was more than happy to do so, as long as you followed his advice.”
“Hang on Molly, I make my own decisions, you make me sound like a…a puppet politician.”
“Hum? I’m sorry darling, that’s not what I meant. But you have to admit that he’s always there and you do listen to him, maybe more than you should.”
Andrew stood and began pacing the room again. “I’m pretty sure you’ve just repeated yourself, or maybe I should call Nigel back, ask him to clarify your position for me.”
“Now you’re just been ridiculous, I’m going to bed.”
“It’s nine thirty,” Andrew stated.
“I’m tired,” Molly shot the comment back like a bullet exploding from a gun.
Andrew watched her go, stunned. They very rarely argued, but when they did it inevitably seemed to involve Nigel in some way. But that wasn’t what had hurt him, it was his wife’s suggestion that he wasn’t his own man. He and Nigel merely happened to have the same views about most things, and that was all, he reasoned. And yet, if his friend didn’t come on board with his campaign ideas, what would he do? He didn’t think he could do it alone. Maybe Molly was right, maybe he’d come to rely on Nigel more than he’d realised, a cooling off period and a little distance between then might not be a bad thing. He’d keep a low profile for a while, just get on with being Chancellor, put everything else on the back-burner for now. Of course Molly would say it was because he wouldn’t show his hand without Nigel, which was rubbish, wasn’t it? Shit, he may as well admit it, he needed his friend beside him, because on his own he didn’t think he stood a cat in hells chance. He’d talk to him tomorrow, try and get him to see things his way, and if he didn’t, well what would he do? He wished he’d spoke to Nigel before Molly, now she knew he was thinking about trying for PM, if he didn’t because he didn’t have his friends help and support…well, would Molly think him less of a man, would she have any respect left for the father of her child? He poured himself a brandy and slumped back in his seat. This was supposed to be the start of something, an evening of plans and excitement, and now, well, it was just a mess. He took a long drink, let the liquid burn to his stomach and then lay his head back on the chair and closed his eyes.
Chapter forty-four
Andrew strode into his office, determined to look dignified and indifferent; unfortunately Nigel was not at his de
sk to appreciate the façade. Anxiety clutched at his stomach, this was ridiculous, he was the Chancellor. He’d achieved the position, admittedly with Nigel’s help, but not because of it.
“No, sign of Mr Purser yet?” he enquired.
His secretary looked over at Nigel’s desk, as if realising for the first time that he wasn’t there. “He was here, a short while ago. I’m not sure where he is now.”
“I see, well could you locate him for me and ask him to pop into my office please?”
“Yes Chancellor, oh and congratulations.”
Andrew frowned in puzzlement. “What for?”
“You’re expecting a baby.”
“Oh that, yes, gosh, thank you very much, we’re both absolutely over the moon.”
Andrew crossed to his room, once inside he shut the door, lent against the frame, breathed in deeply, and then exhaled slowly. At least Nigel was in, that was something. He jumped forward a pace, as a knock resounded on the other side of the frame.
“Err, just a moment,” he called, if it was Nigel he wanted to be seated behind his desk when he entered, re-enforce just who held the power in the relationship.
He sat, opened his daily diary and picked up a pen. “Come in,” he called.
His secretary entered. “Mr Purser isn’t answering his phone, I’ve left a message for him to call me.”
“Oh, I see, yes, well thank you.”
“Would you like to go through the diary now Chancellor?” she asked.
“Yes, we may as well.”
For the next hour his secretary took him through the days engagements, while Andrew cursed the fact he hadn’t thought to pick up his own coffee that morning. It was a full schedule. Nigel was due to brief him on the proposed savings, and necessary expenditure to the infrastructure budget at twelve, so Andrew would just have to wait and speak to him then, assuming he showed up. But no, he was just being overly melodramatic, of course he would show, he was a professional who wouldn’t allow a disagreement to impact upon the workings of government, Andrew hoped. Although, as he could never remember a time when Nigel hadn’t been in the office ahead of him, he had to assume his no-show was an ill-conceived attempt at petty one-upmanship. Well, it wouldn’t work, he would keep him waiting for at least fifteen minutes after their appointment time, then they’d see who claimed the bigger advantage.
The morning dragged, the cabinet meeting seemed to descend into bickering every time the economic growth, or lack of it, was mentioned. One high profile news channel had even dubbed it the ‘Zombie economy,’ it was alive, but without any discernible pulse. Andrew then went to visit a factory, one that was thankfully bucking the trend, and enjoying rapid growth through the production of springs. The workforce shook his hand, everyone smiled, but he had been keen to leave before the undercurrent of distrust had the confidence to manifest itself in voices of disquiet. The employees no doubt knew they were the exception to the economic rule, and each one would have a story to prove just that. Because, if the truth be told, the economy was flat lining, and although no one would admit it, every single member of the Republican Party knew it. It was the main platform Andrew wanted to address in any leadership challenge, the success of which, unfortunately, lay with having Nigel on board. So, by twelve o’clock Andrew was pacing nervously, it was ridiculous really, he’d faced down the commons, talked to heads of state for god’s sake, with none of the anxiety he was feeling now. There was a knock at the door and his secretary entered.
“Mr Purser is waiting to see you Chancellor.”
Despite Andrew’s intentions, he was so relieved Nigel had shown up he asked for him to be shown straight in. They both waited until the secretary had closed the door. Nigel spoke first.
“I brought you coffee,” he said, holding out a take away cup.
“Oh, yes, thank you, I missed it this morning…not that I require you to bring me my coffee, you understand.”
“I know that,” Nigel said. They both waited, it became rather awkward. Nigel sat down opposite Andrew, a folder in his hand, he began to open it and then thought better of it. “I feel I should apologise for my outburst last night, I’m afraid you took me rather by surprise.”
I feel I should apologise, was that, Andrew wondered, the same as an actual apology? He decided not to dwell upon the nuances of Nigel’s comment, but take it in the spirit he wished it had been offered.
“That’s fine, we were all a bit wired by the whole thing.”
Another awkward pause, broken once more by Nigel.
“Therefore, I’m prepared to hear you out, before making any further comment,” he said, with all the grandeur of a royal proclamation.
Andrew bit back the remark that sprung to mind, after all Nigel had sort of apologised, so it was now his turn to show willing.
“Good, I’m afraid my day is rather full, but I could squeeze you in around eight thirty tomorrow. We’ll have a late breakfast meeting at the house, Molly will have left for work by then.”
Now it was Nigel’s turn to look uncomfortable at the formality of Andrew’s remark, but he chose not to bite back; he merely nodded, opened the folder on his lap, handed a pile of papers to Andrew and drew a similar looking stash for himself. “The introduction is the usual drivel, if you’d like to turn to page six…”
*****
Andrew switched the coffee machine on, although he’d probably consumed way too much of the stuff, considering it was only half past eight in the morning. He walked around the kitchen table, re-arranged the croissants and jam, and then cursed his nerves. Be firm, you’re in charge, it’s Nigel’s job to do your bidding, not the other way round, those had been Molly’s parting shots before she’d left for work. And of course it was true, he knew it was, plus he felt a driving ambition, a thirst for the top spot that he’d never experienced before; he knew he could do a better, fairer job than Blackthorn, he had to have the chance to prove it. Unfortunately Nigel’s support was integral to the plan, he simply couldn’t imagine going up against the PM without him. He had infinitely more contacts in government than Andrew himself had, and he knew how to play people, get the support they needed at a concessionary rate they were willing to accept. Because at the end of the day politics drove politics, it wasn’t just about the country at large, but also the alliances that existed within the Republican Party, and Andrew wished to appeal to everyone, offer something that each faction could adhere to. It was the only platform upon which he was prepared to stand; he wanted to change the workings of his own party, as well as that of the country.
The doorbell rang, Andrew checked his watch, it was eight thirty-three. He took one last look at the breakfast table, smoothed down his tie, walked along the hallway and opened the door.
“Nigel, come in.”
“Thank you, I can smell coffee.”
“Yep, just head through to the kitchen,” Andrew said, and then followed his friend along.
Nigel sat, forcing Andrew to wait upon him, was he making some sort of statement? No, it wasn’t his house, of course he’d wait to be asked. “Coffee?”
“Yes please.”
“Just tuck in,” Andrew indicated the basket of croissants as he spoke.
“No thanks, just coffee will be fine. I’ve already eaten.”
Who, Andrew thought, eats breakfast before a breakfast meeting. Now he would have to sit with flaky bits of pastry and a full mouth while Nigel sat and observed him. Well, he wouldn’t have any either, although they did look rather good, and he was hungry. If he didn’t eat now, he would be unlikely to get another chance until late afternoon. He put Nigel’s mug down in front of him, and picked up a still warm croissant, split it and spread butter and strawberry jam on each half, sod Nigel.
“I think it best if I just listen to your proposals, before I comment,” Nigel stated, his gaze never leaving Andrew’s face.
“Okay, although obviously they are a work in progress.” He took a bite from his croissant and chewed slowly, who had the upper h
and now?
“First of all I was serious when I said I wanted to go for cross party support; people in this country are becoming increasingly disillusioned with politicians, just look at how many bother to vote and if they do they’re voting on the edges of politics as a protest. I want us as a party to unite behind a clear message for the country, not just for the reporters and cameras, and I want to re-enforce that ethos by re-naming the party, as the Unitary Party.”
Andrew paused, he’d expected some comment from Nigel, but he merely nodded, irritating the hell out of him. He took another bite of croissant, and chewed slowly, refusing to rush to fill the empty space.
“I haven’t worked it all out yet, obviously, but I want us to offer enough to each faction to get them on board. I think a Unitary Party, and the message it gives, of working together through this difficult time, will be a powerful one. In fact, I’d like more cross party agreements, I want us to liaise with the People’s Party whenever possible. Let the voters see we are offering a new kind of government; the sort that really can make a difference.”
Still nothing from Nigel, this time Andrew chewed quickly and washed his mouthful down with a gulp of coffee. He stood and refilled his cup, he was getting into his stride now, excitement overtaking any other emotion.
“You and I both know that, in a few weeks, I’ll be announcing measures to try and ease the housing problem, encouraging an end to under occupancy. We have too many families in social, and private, accommodation with spare rooms; single couples in two bedroom properties while families at the other end of the scale are squeezing maybe three, four kids into a one bedroom house and so on. It’s a sound policy, to raise a levy on the empty rooms, encouraging people and government to use housing resources more efficiently. But Moll…but I think there’s a flaw.”
“A flaw, in what way?” This time Nigel filled the space Andrew’s consumption of the second half of his breakfast left.
Andrew smiled and topped up his friends coffee; I have him, he thought, his curiosity is tweaked.
“We’ve done all the research, and it shows that there is room for movement in the housing market, but the figures are a national guide, not a regional one. I happen to know that, even in my constituency, there are two hundred couples or single people who will be hit by the levy. Yet there are only sixteen one bedroom properties available for them to down size to”
An Ordinary Working Man Page 30
