Latent Hazard

by Piers Venmore-Rowland

  ‘On the other hand, I have had to consider how much damage speculators might cause if they sought to decimate our currency. Therefore, whether or not we join the Euro rests on whether or not we can hold our currency stable.’

  The tension was palpable. So, are we, or are we not going into the Euro? wondered Rafi.

  ‘Early yesterday, senior representatives of the Bank of England flew out to meet with the largest international Central Banks to ask for their help in supporting our currency and to determine the level at which support would be forthcoming. Without this support we would find ourselves in exceptionally difficult times and joining the Euro would become a necessity. The results of these deliberations should be available to me now.’

  The Chancellor turned round and was passed a large white envelope by the PM. He opened the envelope, pulled out two sheets of paper and read them. His face gave nothing away. Before he spoke, he pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his brow.

  ‘As of ten minutes ago, the Federal Reserve of America, the European Central Bank, the Chinese, Japanese, Indian, Singaporean, Saudi, UAE and four other Central Banks have all agreed to support and be aggressive purchasers of Sterling until such time as the UK economy has recovered from the recent catastrophe.’

  Sighs of relief were heard around the Chamber.

  ‘Furthermore, in order to accommodate a bank base rate cut of fifty basis points, the support rate has been set at a figure 4% below Sterling’s trade weighted exchange rate as at close of business Thursday evening. The Bank of England is, as I speak, announcing a 0.5% reduction in interest rates and this will help our manufacturers and businesses.’

  The Treasury had taken Aidan’s brief and added their magic – Sterling was to remain independent! They had done a superb job. Rafi looked at the ceiling, let out a small whistle and smiled. Strike three! Short interest rates had been reduced and Sterling was to be protected. The third and final nail had been hammered home. The terrorists’ positions in the derivatives markets had become untenable and they would be sitting on truly massive losses when the market reopened in the morning.

  A weary, but relieved-looking Chancellor surveyed the packed House of Commons. ‘Details supporting the initiatives I have set out this afternoon to the House will be published as soon as is practical – the printing presses are running as I speak. The events of the past few days have required much soul-searching and reprioritising.’ He paused and looked across at the shadow chancellor. ‘I commend these proposals to the House.’ He sat down to growing applause from the House, which was taking its time to assimilate all he had put before them.

  The Prime Minister rose to take his place at the dispatch box. ‘If the Speaker will permit me, I should like to tidy up a few loose ends. The reshuffle I spoke of earlier will be far-reaching. I have scheduled meetings with the leaders of the main opposition parties for later this evening. I will be speaking with many of you over the next twenty-four hours. I have received assurances from the party leaders sitting opposite me that they will place the interests of the country first.’

  The PM paused for dramatic effect. ‘Where spin rules, reason is wanting, honesty is wanting, public service is wanting and the role of this House is overshadowed. Spin and self-aggrandisement are unacceptable. We owe it to the people of this country to consign spin and subterfuge to the past.’ The PM paused and looked across at the opposition benches.

  ‘It can be expected that members of competing parties will find themselves working together running the Ministries of State. Undoubtedly, there will be differences of opinion over some issues, but this should not stop efficient Cabinet Government. This House, its committees and the Upper Chamber will have the important role to scrutinise, improve and approve the proposals put before them. The Government has many difficult decisions to make in order to steer our country forward in an appropriate direction. What I am proposing is a move away from presidential-style politics to one where the Government is, as it was decades ago, fully accountable to Parliament. Our collective aim must be to get things back on to an even keel, to rejuvenate our economy and to rebuild our damaged international reputation. I commend these proposals to the House.’

  With that the PM sat down to applause from all corners of the Chamber. He looked exhausted.

  The Speaker called for the Leader of Her Majesty’s Opposition. Silence returned to the Chamber as he stood up and raised aloft a pile of papers.

  ‘I thought I’d been well-briefed by my team when I came to the House this afternoon.’ Slowly and theatrically he lowered the pile of papers, turned and placed them where he’d been sitting. ‘I won’t need them.’ He looked across at the Government benches. ‘If my sources are correct, the Prime Minister has personally been working non-stop for the past three days as part of the effort to prevent the terrorists’ attacks, for which I thank the Honourable Member. I shall be meeting with him later today and again tomorrow. Following these meetings, I shall report back to this House any concerns I might have. In the meantime there is much to digest and in the circumstances it would be churlish of me to find fault for the very sake of finding fault. The two Honourable Members opposite me have, with great openness, sought to provide leadership and the wherewithal to enable our country to extricate itself from the horrendous tragedy of Stratford.’ He cast his eyes upwards towards the TV camera.

  ‘I should like to pay my respects to all those who have lost and those who will lose their lives as a result of this nuclear catastrophe, and to thank all those in the emergency services, the armed forces and the intelligence services who have helped in our hour of need. I’d like to express my sympathy to all those who lost their homes or businesses in the “Isle of Stratford”, and to thank all those people and companies who helped selflessly.’

  With that, the leader of the official opposition party sat down. The eyes in the House, as if following a tennis ball at Wimbledon, moved along the front row and focused on the leader of the third political party. It was his turn. He had a reputation for holding strong environmental views and a nuclear disaster was something he had warned against over many years. Would he use the events of last Friday to put the knife in? So far, the Home Secretary, a couple of lower ranking ministers and a number of quango employees involved in the nuclear industry had resigned. Would he try to make this a resigning matter for the Prime Minister as well? He stood up and looked around the silent Chamber.

  ‘It is on the record that my party places huge importance on environmental issues and has a profound distrust of matters nuclear.’

  The House sensed that things were going to get interesting.

  ‘The Stratford nuclear disaster will haunt us for generations to come and its occurrence is political dynamite. Its consequences will be felt by every individual in this country. A lesser Government might have tried to spin its way out of the quagmire. Instead, this Government has come here today with a rational, inclusive and cohesive plan, which I believe will provide the foundations for this country to prosper again and will bring environmental and sustainability issues to the centre of our culture.

  ‘I look forward to meeting with the Prime Minister later today and again tomorrow morning. I shall come back to the House and report more fully on these discussions and will raise such questions that I believe require answering.’ He paused and in a sombre tone added, ‘I, too, wish to pay my respects to all those who have suffered and to convey my great thanks to all those who have helped in this time of need.’ He looked around the House and sat down.

  One of the colonel’s team was beckoning Rafi to pick up the phone nearest to him.

  It was Aidan. ‘What do you think?’ he enquired.

  ‘That’s unfair,’ an ecstatic Rafi replied, ‘you’re the one with the screens in front of you.’

  ‘The currency markets are seeing big support for Sterling. Several early punters bet on it going through the floor and have had their fingers burnt. The support since the Chancellor’s statement has been unprecedented. And,
Rafi, the fall in interest rates will leave the terrorists and their banks sitting on some mind-bogglingly large losses when the derivatives markets open tomorrow. Did the PM and the Chancellor perform some kind of miracle, or what?’

  ‘Better than I could have prayed for,’ Rafi replied.

  ‘Basically, things are looking bloody marvellous. Must dash – see you around Rafi. Bye.’

  Rafi called across to anyone within earshot, ‘Aidan says that the markets loved the PM’s and the Chancellor’s speeches and that the terrorists and their bankers are financially being taken to the cleaners.’

  Colonels Gray and Turner and their teams looked ready to drop. But they looked happy as they packed up their kit – the military operation was complete. The Wood Street Ops Room had served its purpose well.

  Len Thunhurst and his team were jubilant. It was their turn now as the focus swung on to the arrest of those implicated with the terrorist activities.

  A spreadsheet visible on the right-hand side video screen showed the tally of the arrests. The table of red, blue and black names – slowly at first, then more rapidly – turned yellow as the arrests continued.

  Rafi looked at the TV screen. A well-known political commentator was attempting to sum up the activities of the afternoon. The words ‘unprecedented’, ‘remarkable’ and ‘incomparable’ were used frequently in his report. He finished by saying that it had been a great day for British democracy.

  Rafi looked back across the room. The large screen showed ‘Operation Dry Clean’ to be progressing well. The number of arrests was rising swiftly.

  Part 8

  Rafi had had enough.

  Kate walked over and gave him a hug. ‘Let’s get some rest. I’m no longer needed.’

  ‘Fine by me,’ replied Rafi.

  ‘I’m afraid it’s time for normality to resume. No more chauffeur-driven cars. How about I get us a taxi?’

  Rafi nodded. Fifteen minutes later they picked up an evening paper and got into the taxi waiting for them. The February evening was bleak and cold.

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘Clapham, please,’ Kate answered.

  ‘The traffic is awful – it could take a while.’

  ‘No problem,’ Kate replied and looked at Rafi. ‘Is it OK if we pick up our stuff from the Savoy tomorrow? I hope you don’t mind but I rang the hotel and told them that they can let someone else have our room.’

  Rafi smiled at her. ‘What else have you been up to?’

  ‘Oh, there’s one other bit of news,’ she grinned. ‘As of now, I’m sort of on holiday. I’ve been ordered to spend two weeks helping you convalesce.’

  ‘That’s the best news I’ve heard in ages,’ Rafi replied.

  ‘And it gets better. I thought you might like to get this back,’ she said, passing him his wallet and personal effects from Paddington Green.

  ‘Thank you. I can now pay for Luigi’s and the hotel suite. And I can do some clothes shopping.’

  Kate gave him a big hug. ‘That sounds like fun – I hope I’m included! By the way, how did you get on with the hotel in Cornwall?’ she enquired.

  ‘They have found a small suite for us. I told them we’ll be arriving tomorrow early afternoon and staying between ten days and a fortnight,’ said Rafi.

  Kate curled up against him.

  ‘So much for me going out with a butch police officer,’ he whispered into her ear.

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ came the soft reply. ‘They employ me for my brains and not my body, you wally!’

  As the taxi approached Clapham, it turned into a tree-lined street off the Common and pulled up in front of a red brick terraced house.

  ‘Home sweet home,’ said Kate as she joined Rafi after paying the driver.

  ‘Come on, let’s get inside, it’s freezing cold out here.’ Kate unlocked the front door and they entered a small communal area, with two front doors. ‘Mine is the upstairs flat.’ There was a clunk as she unlocked her front door.

  ‘Good lock,’ Rafi commented.

  ‘Yes; you never know who might come calling.’

  Inside, on the mat, was a pile of mail – most looked like junk. Kate scooped it up and headed upstairs. Her flat comprised a sitting room, a small kitchen, a cosy bath-cum-shower room and a good-sized double bedroom at the back of the house. The place felt like a deep freeze.

  ‘Is your central heating not working by any chance?’

  ‘Sorry. I turn the thermostat down when I go out. Don’t worry, it’ll soon get warm.’

  Kate scurried around – closed the curtains, lit the gas fire in the sitting room and headed off towards the kitchen.

  Rafi joined her and they stood there waiting for the kettle to boil. ‘Long-life milk, I’m afraid. Sugar?’

  ‘No thanks.’

  ‘Come on, follow me – let’s get warm.’ Instead of turning left towards the sitting room, Kate turned right and headed for her bedroom.

  It was a friendly looking room; simply furnished. In the middle of the wall, facing the window, was a large double bed. Kate placed Rafi’s mug of tea on one bedside table and hers on the other. He looked across at her, wondering what exactly she was going to do next. She’d slipped off her shoes, stripped off her coat and hopped fully clothed into bed.

  ‘It’s cold in here – I could do with your body heat to warm me up,’ came the suggestive but gentle request.

  Rafi sat on the side of the bed and took his coat and shoes off.

  ‘Come on slowcoach, I’m freezing!’

  He climbed under the duvet. Kate was right – the bed was freezing. Rafi moved over to her side and snuggled up. She wrapped her arms around him, with her gorgeous eyes inches away from his. He lay there staring into the sparkling deep brown colours, savouring the warmth of her body next to his. She moved forward and kissed him softly on the lips. He was in heaven.

  ‘If it’s alright with you, I thought we could have something from the freezer for supper and spend the evening in bed. How’s the tea, by the way?’ asked Kate.

  Rafi reluctantly moved back to his cold side of the bed, took a couple of mouthfuls and returned to her warmth. He lay there thinking what a long time it had been since he had been in bed with a woman. He had known Kate scarcely a week! What were things coming to? Rafi felt happier than he could remember.

  ‘Tell me about the hotel we’re staying at,’ asked Kate.

  ‘It’s just outside Newquay. It’s got four stars and overlooks the Atlantic Ocean.

  ‘Did you say the bedrooms were nice?’ enquired Kate.

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘They have big, cosy beds!’

  ‘Just what the doctor ordered,’ replied Kate, who snuggled closer to him.

  The proximity of her body, which was now nestling on top of him, made it difficult to concentrate. He wondered what she was going to do next. She leant forward, gave him a lingering kiss on the lips and wriggled her body. The effect was electric. She kissed his cheek and, to his disappointment, rolled off him and slipped out of bed.

  ‘Why don’t I rustle up some supper?’

  He watched her slim figure disappear out of the room and lay there enjoying the warmth of the bed and the anticipation of things to come. He stayed put. This was the first time in over a week that he had felt truly relaxed and comfortable.

  Kate reappeared holding another cup of tea. ‘I guessed you wanted to stay warm.’ She left him to his tea and thoughts. Rafi sipped at it, savouring its warmth.

  After a few minutes he thought it was time to get up, and went to see what Kate was doing. The temperature in the flat had returned to a comfortable level. He looked around him as he walked down the corridor to the kitchen and sitting room. The place was small, but homely. It was very different from his flat in Hampstead. On reflection, he came to the surprising conclusion that he preferred it here. This place had the essence of Kate and that made it special.

  He walked into the kitchen.

  ‘The pizza wi
ll be ready in fifteen minutes; sorry, the oven takes ages to get hot. In the meantime, I’m going to have a bath. I’d invite you to share it with me, but we would get stuck – it’s rather small. The sitting room is nice and warm now. Perhaps the news might be worth listening to?’

  Rafi turned and went into the sitting room. He picked up the remote controls and switched on the television. He eventually found the 24-hour news channels and flicked through them. On the first one he saw a photo of himself and heard the reporter saying that ‘He had been instrumental in enabling the police to catch the terrorists . . .’

  Rafi flicked to another channel. CNN was running a bulletin on the money markets and the American commentator was interviewing a foreign exchange trader who was describing the day’s trading.

  ‘Been quite a day! That British Finance Chancellor caught us on the hop. We thought Sterling was going to be a one-way bet down through the floor, but when we found out that our Fed, the ECB and the Central Banks of China and Japan – to name but a few – were piling in to support Sterling against speculators, we knew that they were beaten. As if that wasn’t enough, the British Finance Minister then found a couple of hundred billion pounds without tapping the bond markets. The currency markets have given up the fight and settled down. The steam has literally gone out of trying to short Sterling. It’s been one hell of a day; one I’ll remember for a long time!’

  The TV interviewer switched across to a stockbroker. ‘Tell us, Irvine, about these new UK Government REITs.’ Rafi listened to Irvine tell his American audience how it was the US who had created the Real Estate Investment Trust structure some decades ago. His view was that the UK Government had done something that some saw as brave, while many others looked at it thinking, ‘Gee, why the hell haven’t we done that?’

  Before being cut off by the interviewer, the broker gave a single throwaway remark that made Rafi first smile, then chuckle, ‘What has captivated us is this new UK not-for-profit corporation: like a public company but controlled by custodianholders – the people – and not shareholders. The change in accounting methods alone will bring huge efficiency gains. It’s a great idea and will knock the stuffing out of our game theory junkies; hats off to the UK Chancellor.’