Read A Quiver Full of Arrows Online
Authors: Jeffrey Archer
Tags: #Man-Woman Relationships, #Short Stories (single author), #General, #Romance, #Short stories; English, #Fiction, #Short Stories
A Quiver Full of Arrows (28 page)
“Those aren’t the words I’d use to describe
him,” muttered Andrew.
“Altogether too many letters.” The man with
wavy red hair smiled as they listened to Carson ranting on.
If Raymond Gould had acquired any reputation
during those first six weeks it was as one of the party’s intellectuals, and
for that reason older members were immediately suspicious of him, although few
doubted he would be among the first from the new intake to be promoted to the
front bench. Not many of them had really got to know Raymond as the north countryman
appeared remarkably reserved for someone who had chosen a career in public
life. But with a majority of over TO,OOO in his Leeds constituency he looked
destined for a long career.
Leeds North had chosen Raymond to be their
candidate from a field of thirty-seven, when he showed himself to be so much
better informed than a local trade-union official whom the press had tipped as
favourite for the seat. Yorkshire folk like people who stay at home and Raymond
had been quick to point out to the selection committee- in an exaggerated
Yorkshire accent- that he had been educated at Roundhay School on the fringes
of the constituency. But what really tipped the vote in his favour had been
Raymond’s refusal of an open scholarship to Cambridge. He had preferred to
continue his education at Leeds University, he explained.
Raymond took a first-class honours degree in
Law at Leeds before moving to London to complete his studies for the bar at
Lincoln’s Inn. At the end of his two-year course Raymond joined a fashionable
London chambers to become a much sought-after junior counsel.
From that moment he rarely mentioned his
family background to his carefully cultivated circle of Home Counties friends,
and those comrades who addressed him as Ray received a sharp ‘Raymond’ for
their familiarity.
When the last question had been asked, the
party meeting broke up, and Raymond and Andrew made their way out of the
committee room-Andrew for his tiny office the second floor to finish offthe
day’s mail, Raymond to return to the Chamber as he hoped to deliver his maiden
speech that day. He had waited patiently for the right moment to express his
views to the House on the subject of widows’ pensions and the redemption of war
bonds, and the debate in progress on the economy was an obvious opportunity.
The Speaker had dropped Raymond a note earlier in the day saying he expected to
call him some time that evening.
Raymond had spent many hours in the Chamber,
carefully studying the techniques demanded by the House and noting how they
differed from those of the law courts. F. E. Smith had been right in his
assessment of his colleagues when he had described the Commons as nothing more
than a noisy courtroom with over 600 jurors and absolutely no sign of a judge.
Raymond was dreading the ordeal of his maiden speech; the dispassionate logic
of his arguments had always proved more appealing to judges than tojuries.
As he approached the Chamber an attendant
handed him a note from his wife Joyce. She had just arrived at the Commons and
had been found a seat in the Strangers’ Gallery so that she could be present
for his speech. After only a cursory glance Raymond scrunched up the note,
dropped it into the nearest waste-paper basket and hurried on towards the
Chamber.
The door was held open for him by a
Conservative member who was on his way out.
“Thank you,” said Raymond. Simon Kerslake
smiled back, trying in vain to recall the man’s name. Once Simon was in the
Members’ Lobby he checked the message board to see if the light under his name
was lit up. It wasn’t, so he continued on through the swing doors to the right
of the lobby on his way down past the cloisters to the Members’ Car Park. Once
he had found his car he headed offinthe direction of St Mary’s, Paddington, to
pick up his wife. They had seen little of each other during Simon’s first six
weeks in Parliament which made the thought of tonight even more enjoyable.
Simon couldn’t see any easing of the pressure until there was another general
election and one party had gained a sensible working majority.
But what he feared mosthaving won his seat
by the slimmest of margins – was that such a working majority would not include
him and he might end up with one of the shortest political careers on record.
After such a prolonged stretch of Tory rule the new Labour Government was
looking fresh, idealistic and certain to increase their numbers whenever the
Prime Minister chose to go to the country.
Once Simon had reached Hyde Park Corner he
headed on up towards Marble Arch thinking back over how he had become a member.
On leaving Oxford he had completed two years’ national service with the Sussex
Yeomanry, finishing his military days as a second lieutenant. After a short
holiday he had joined the BBC as a general trainee. He spent five years moving
from drama, to sport, to current affairs before being appointed a producer on
‘Panorama’. During those early days in London he had rented a small flat in
Earl’s Court and continued his interest in politics by becoming a member of the
Tory Bow Group. When he became the Group’s secretary he helped to organise
meetings, and had then progressed to writing pamphlets and speaking at weekend
conferences before being invited to work at Central Office as personal
assistant to the chairman during the T959 election campaign.
Two years later Simon met Elizabeth Drummond
when ‘Panorama’ carried out an investigation into the National Health Service
and she had been invited to be a participant. Over drinks before the programme
Elizabeth made it perfectly clear to Simon that she distrusted media men and detested
politicians. They were married a year later. Elizabeth had since given birth to
two sons, and with only a small break on each occasion she had continued her
career as a doctor.
Simon had left the BBC somewhat abruptly
when, in the summer of 1964, he had been offered the chance to defend the
marginal constituency of Coventry Central. He held on to the seat at the
general election by a majority of gig.
Simon drove up to the gates of St Mary’s and
checked his watch. He was a few minutes early. He pushed back the mop of brown
hair from his forehead and thought about the evening ahead. He was taking
Elizabeth out to celebrate their fourth wedding anniversary, and had prepared
one or two surprises for her. Dinner at Mario & Franco, followed by dancing
at the Establishment Club, and then home together for the first time in weeks.
“Um,” he said, savouring the thought.
“Hi, stranger,” said the lady who jumped in
beside him and gave him a kiss. Simon stared at the woman with a perfect smile
and long fair hair that turned up at the shoulder. He had stared at her when
she had first arrived at the ‘Panorama’ studio that night nearly five years
before and he had hardly stopped staring since.
He switched on the ignition. “Want to hear
some good news?” he asked, and answered his own question before she could
reply. “I’m paired for tonight.
That means dinner at Mario & Franco,
dancing at the Establishment, home and...’
“Do you want to hear the bad news?” asked
Elizabeth, also not waiting for a reply. “There’s a shortage of staff because
of the flu epidemic. I have to be back on duty by ten o’clock.”
Simon switched off the ignition.
“Well, which would you prefer?” he asked.
“Dinner, dancing or straight home?”
Elizabeth laughed. “We’ve got three hours,”
she said. “So we might even find time for dinner.”
Contents
