‘Alec, take a seat,’ the OL said.
Alec took the only seat available, which was in the centre of the room with everyone else facing him. He was on trial. Probably about to fight for his political future. Alec spent the moment he took to make himself comfortable and smile at the OL to form his strategy.
‘How can I be of service?’ Alec said.
‘Alec, we need some answers. There are some disturbing rumours circulating the building at the moment and we need your side of the story.’
The only story in the building at the moment was the PM's wife and the finding of Cecily. Alec had a pretty good idea what the rumours were.
‘Of course,’ he said.
‘And tell the truth,’ Leon de Belle sneered.
A few of the actual powers in the party, including Barry, gave Leon a side glance of unhappiness, but they didn't actually tell him to pull his head in.
Right, Alec thought. Play time.
‘Alec, there is a story that you were heavily involved in the speech by the First Lady last night. What do you say to that?’
Alec put on what he hoped was a puzzled expression. ‘But you knew about that. The plan to develop a strategy and new funding to support women with postnatal depression was a bipartisan plan. You approved it.’
‘I did approve a plan, true. What I did not approve was you diving into the Prime Minister's pocket over it.’
‘No diving here. The man loved the idea, took it and ran. I have no say in what he does. He's the Prime Minister, and leader of the other party. Why would I have influence?’
‘Then why were you with his wife last night?’ Leon snapped. ‘And why were you seen at his office late last night.’
‘I was with Mrs Bailey because she needed support. Would anyone here say no to supporting a vulnerable woman in her time of need? And as for why I was in his office—well, you've heard the story about how the speech actually found her daughter. Again, she needed support.’
‘And there was no one else to support her? No one on her side of politics?’
‘She asked for me. I couldn't say no.’
Some of the men in the room started to squirm in their seats.
‘So you are saying you did not betray the party and work with the Prime Minister without our knowledge or say so?’ the OL said.
‘Betray the party? Who is saying that? I would never betray the party. And I didn't work without say so. I came to you, presented the plan, said this was a great opportunity for a bipartisan approach to a situation that would play out well in the public because the PM couldn’t say no to it because of his wife. You said go get him on board, so I got him on board.’
Now the OL shifted in his chair. ‘You've been meeting with him.’
‘I've had some meetings with his staff, to draft the legislation.’
Leon leant forward. ‘And where is this legislation, if you have been drafting it?’
‘I sent it to you for your thoughts yesterday. Along with a note saying that it was vital the OL was at the dinner last night because the First Lady's speech was going to be a sensation. Don't tell me you didn't read it? I guess that's why the OL didn't make it last night.’
All eyes turned to Leon who, to his credit, didn't squirm. ‘You know you don't email legislation. Emails aren't always read on the day they are sent. You bring them, in paper form, so they are right there.’
‘I didn't have time to bring it to you—I wanted you to react to it straight away. That's why I sent you a text, letting you know I'd sent it.’
Leon stiffened and Alec hid a smile. He knew the other man ignored all his calls and texts for at least twenty-four hours, in an effort to stymie Alec.
‘I had my phone on silent, because I was working on important position papers,’ Leon said.
‘Shame you didn't check it later then,’ Alec said. ‘So, is there anything else to this story I am supposed to explain?’
‘It looks bad,’ the OL said.
Alec frowned. ‘What looks bad?’
‘That you were seen leaving the PM's office.’
‘Every person in this room has been seen leaving the PM's office.’
‘Not sneaking around at night.’
‘Oh,’ Alec said. ‘I see. So if I'd gone during daylight hours, it would have been fine. I do take offence at the word sneaking. If I had truly been sneaking, you wouldn't know I was there. I've been completely open about what I'm doing.’
‘Perception is everything in politics, Alec. You know that. The perception is that you're getting tight with the PM and that is bad for the party.’
‘How do those people know I'm not doing it to destroy the PM and his party from the inside?’
‘This isn't some lobby group that you're trying to sweet talk, Moncrieff,’ Leon said. ‘This is the leadership of our party and they are telling you that you have made the party look bad. It doesn't matter what flimsy excuse you come up with. You've caused the party trouble and we've had enough.’
Alec looked around. Barry was the only one who would meet his eye and the older man looked determined.
Then the last phrase of Leon's speech struck home. ‘Had enough? For my first supposed mistake?’
‘You've pushed the boundaries more than once, Alec,’ the OL said. ‘We've given you the benefit of the doubt but this time, you've gone too far.’
‘So I've been on probation because of my behaviour, but no one told me?’
‘Well, we've not had cause to doubt your allegiance to the party before now...’
At that, Alec saw red. ‘Oh, I am so sorry that I have been such a poor servant of the party. I'm surprised you've kept me on all this time, if I am so much trouble.’
‘Not trouble,’ one of the leadership team spoke up. ‘You just need to be reined in. Brought under control. Right?’ He looked to everyone else in the room. The only one who nodded was the OL. Everyone else was avoiding every gaze they could.
Reined in. Under control. He who was the greatest fundraiser in the party. He who devised the policy that had almost won them the last election and certainly saved them the devastating result everyone was predicting. He who had acted to support every man in this room in gaining their ambitions. He who had given up a fabulous girl for the party.
Needed to be brought under control. Like a teenager.
Fuck them.
‘Well, let me save you the trouble. I am tendering my resignation from Barry's office and the party, effective immediately.’ Alec stood and nearly everyone else in the room also jumped to their feet. Only Leon stayed seated, and he was smiling.
‘Alec, that is unnecessary,’ Barry said. ‘You made a mistake, just learn from it and move on.’
‘You just need to swear that you will never betray the party and we will forget this ever happened,’ the OL said.
Alec's eyes bulged so much they hurt. ‘Swear I'll never betray the party? Are you kidding me? With all the people in this room that I could have so easily betrayed, again and again, with the things I know, you all dare to tell me that I need to swear to never betray the party?’
‘It's the perception,’ someone began but Alec cut in.
‘Bullshit. This is personal. This is someone thinking they've found the way to get me out and using it. Well, you know what, Leon? It's worked. Congratulations. Enjoy the world you've created for yourself.’
Alec stormed out of the room. All those years of sweat and sacrifice. All those years of putting his own desires second for the need of the party. All those years, because he believed and thought they were best for the country. And they were just using him as a tool, and when they didn't like the direction he was headed in, thought they could bring him to heel, like a trained puppy or a performing monkey.
‘Moncrieff!’ came the shout from behind him.
Alec swung around and watched Leon swagger up to him.
‘The bosses think I'm here talking you into changing your mind.’
‘But you're actually here to gloat.’
/>
‘Oh, yes. I told you, when you guttted me over the Sputterman deal, that I'd get you back. Well, revenge is sweet.’
‘Are you still hung up on that? I didn't do a damn thing to you. You fucked that deal up all on your lonesome.’
‘Bullshit. And now you're gone, and I'll be able to get some work done without you undermining me all the time.’
‘You know, it's almost worth getting a job with the other side in order to watch you realise that it wasn't me, that the reason you are crap at your job is because you are shit at it. But I couldn't bear to be with them, so I'll just have to imagine it. Good luck.’
‘You'll see, Moncrieff,’ Leon called out as Alec turned and walked away. ‘I’m going to win the next election and I will be the hero of the party.’
Not likely.
There wasn't much to pack in his office—Alec wasn't a believer in merging home and office. Just his personal phone, with all his contacts, and a couple of spare ties and the milk and honey hand cream he liked so much.
Then he was through the corridors, smiling at people and not saying a word. At the front door, he took off his ID and gave it to security.
‘Crap, not you too. Did you know John Worthing is gone?’
‘I did,’ Alec said. ‘Watch out for what we do next.’
He stepped dramatically from the shadow of the porticolo into the sun, and then stopped. Of course there was no swelling music, no panning camera shot to show the world spreading out before him. Just a man that for the first working day in his adult life had no idea what to do next.
He texted John—no answer.
Alec thought about texting Cecily but he didn't want to distract her from the important things she was considering. So he walked. Down to the lake. Along the lake front to the National Gallery of Australia. He had only ever been there for events at night, had never actually viewed the gallery. So he spent a couple of happy hours immersed in art and craft, from cultures and eras all over the world.
Then he walked across Kings Avenue bridge and onto Aspen Island and sat on the grass, in the sun, trees waving in the soft breeze above him. He tried to recall the last time he had just sat and decided he couldn't. Even when he went on holiday—and he only did that when it was forced on him—he did things, like travel, or participate in activities. It was nice. It was boring as hell.
Alec moved on, walking, wandering, until he reached Civic. There, he sought out King O'Malley's Irish pub and started drinking.
By the time it was dark, he was drunk and no more knowledgeable about what the hell he was going to do with his life. This time he didn't think. He just called the person he most wanted to speak to. Unfortunately, she didn’t answer.
‘Beautiful Cecily. Cecily Carter for PM. When you get the chance, Cecily Carter for PM, call me. My life has changed, forever.’
Then he called John and this time John answered. ‘Good evening.’
‘Good evening, great and glorious man. How are you doing with handling your new-found unemploymenthoodedness?’
‘Are you drunk?’ John said.
‘I am. I am having a day of trying new things. I tend to avoid getting drunk because I like to be in control of my faculties. I must say, it's both pleasant and unnerving.’
‘Where are you?’
‘King O'Malley's. The sun has gone down. I'd like to say Civic has sprung to life but I'm from Melbourne, so I have to say it's sprung to existence. What am I supposed to do with my life, John?’
‘Why are you drunk, Alec?’
‘I quit my job today. My job and the party. Can you believe they decided that me helping the PM's wife last night was a betrayal of the party? But if I was prepared to swear to never betray the party again, and be a good little boy and just do what I was told, then they would let me stay. So I told them to fuck off.’
A pause. ‘You quit your job and the party?’
‘The party was my life. It guided everything I did. I was completely committed to it, but it wasn't committed to me. I feel like I've just been dumped by the girl of my dreams. Well, that happened too. What a shit few weeks.’
‘I think you need to go home,’ John said. ‘Sober up. Then you'll work out what to do with your life. You're Alec Moncrieff. You always win.’
‘Cecily beat me,’ Alec said. ‘And now the party is going to lose at the next election, because Snakeo will be in charge. Psst. Don't tell the PM that. Let him think he's got a real challenge on his hands.’
‘I won't. Now, I want you to get up, go find a taxi and go home.’
‘Yes. Good idea.’ Alec stood. His legs were wobbly. ‘Does being drunk really make your feet change sides?’
‘It feels like it. Now, head up towards the bus interchange. Have you seriously never been drunk before?’
‘Not this drunk. Drunk is for losers. Does that make me a loser?’
‘Yes.’
‘Nice. Okay, I'm at the bus interchange. What now?’
‘Turn to your right and walk down the street. You should see some taxis on the next block. But stop when you come to the gutter and check to make sure no cars are coming.’
‘Check. What are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know. I’ve had some offers, but I’m feeling a bit beaten up by politics at the moment, to be honest.’
Alec wanted to respond but the gutter approached. So he stopped, made sure no cars were coming, then crossed over. Just a few metres away was the taxi.
‘I did it. John, you saved me.’
‘Call me when you're sober.’ John hung up.
Alec collapsed into the cab. He gave the driver his address and by the end of the journey, was starting to feel incredibly unwell. He barely made it into his bathroom before he threw up. Then he lay on his lounge and watched the ceiling above him spin.
Being drunk sucked. Never, never again.
Cecily
Thursday afternoon, Gwen returned from a fitting/display for all the bridesmaids and the bride with newspapers.
‘I know you’ve had your phone turned off, but I thought you might want to see what is being said,’ she said, putting the papers on the table with the sports pages showing so there was nothing immediately to view.
‘Not sure I do,’ Cecily said. ‘Have they got a lot about me?’
‘They’ve been on your Facebook account and are using photos from there, and have got your basic education and employment history from your LinkedIn portfolio.’
‘So the experts were right—putting yourself online can bite you on the arse. Which photos are they using?’
‘The main one is your photo for your staff ID.’
Cecily’s wrinkled her nose. ‘I hate that photo. One of my eyes is wonky.’
‘And now your wonky eye is in large colour for the entire country to see.’
Cecily slumped. ‘I’m not ready for this, Gwen.’
‘Then I’ll keep these, but you can look at them any time you want. And really, you should eventually look at them. You need to know what is being said about you.’
She was right. Cecily did need to eventually end this idyll and face reality. But she was having such a wonderful time. Gwen’s family were great—her two elder brothers were both funny and very bloky and country, unlike anyone she’d ever met before. Gwen’s father was a taciturn man but it was obvious he loved his family, particularly his own daughter who he doted on when he wasn’t grumbling about how she’d upset her mother. It appeared that the fire of Gwen staying in Canberra wasn’t completely out, but it was just coals and if left alone, could die. It could also flare up again at any moment.
‘Tell me about the dresses,’ Cecily said and Gwen sighed.
‘Well, as we suspected, Mum and Aunt Barbara had organised a typical bridesmaid’s dress for Janice and it was hideous. Puffed sleeves, full skirt, sweetheart neckline, the whole tragedy. Not to mention expensive—they went out and bought more of the bloody material. Janice put it on, and it fit, and Mum and Aunt Barbara were in raptures, but
then she put on her dress and it is amazing, fit to perfection, strapless, tight with this fabulous frilly train that starts at the knees and then flares out, dramatic and so perfect on her. Janice declared that she was wearing this dress, Angie backed her up and there was a terrible hullabaloo, made worse when Heather declared that the second dress was a million times better than hers and she wished she’d made it. Then came what Mum and Aunt Barbara thought would be the fait accompli—they’d had Heather make me one of the horrid ones as well. No way could Janice wear her concoction with both Maria and I looking traditional. Only Heather had made it on the measurements she had on file for me, and that was a couple of years ago and I’ve kinda expanded a bit since then. So it didn’t fit, and Angie declared that I would have to wear my beautiful sheath, and therefore Janice could wear her beautiful strapless, and then Maria started crying about wearing the ugly traditional dress and Mum and Aunt Barbara were having fits. So Angie and Janice presented Maria with her dress—a Empire line dress that absolutely made her look so wow. And then wonder of wonders—Aunt Barbara loved it, and burst into tears and thanked Angie and Janice for making it. So the upshot is we’re wearing our fabulous dresses the entire time—yes, with one strap—and we’re keeping the horrid dresses for some fun photos.’
‘Oh, yay.’ Cecily clapped. ‘And the bridal gown?’
‘Stunning. Made from the lace that Aunt Barbara had used on her gown, but with a straight skirt and strapless, with a little bolero jacket in case it’s a bit cold. Everyone agreed it was absolutely wonderful. So, somehow, we’ve ended up in a happy place where we all get to wear what we want and our mothers don’t mind.’
‘Miracles do happen,’ Cecily said.
Gwen went to have a nap and Cecily went outside to sit by the pool. It was a really nice spot, being a sun trap in the afternoon and the water twinkled in the sunlight. Cecily lay on one of the sun lounges and looked up at the blue, cloudless sky above her.
She started considering what to do about the fact her story, her name, her face were now public. She didn’t have the time she might otherwise have had to decide what to do about her family—the moment she returned to Canberra, the media would be at her for an answer.
The Importance of Ernestine Page 25
