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This comment received laughter and a smattering of applause.

  ‘I took the liberty of visiting an estate agent last week,’ countered Dunnett, ‘not in the anticipation, but in the hope, that you will select me.’

  The applause suggested to Fisher that the gathering was fairly evenly divided.

  The chairman pointed to a woman in the third row, who never failed to ask a question whenever the association met, so he decided to get her out of the way early.

  ‘As one of you is a successful barrister, and the other an insurance broker, will you have enough time to devote to this key marginal seat in the run-up to the election?’

  ‘If I am selected, I won’t be returning to London tonight,’ said Dunnett. ‘I will devote every hour I’m awake to winning this seat and making sure we remove Giles Barrington once and for all.’

  This time the applause was prolonged, and Fisher relaxed for the first time.

  ‘It’s not how many hours you spend,’ said Simpson, ‘but how you spend them that matters. I’ve already fought a general election against a doughty opponent, so I know what to expect. It is important that you select someone who can learn quickly, and can use that knowledge to defeat Giles Barrington and win this seat for the Conservative Party.’

  Fisher was beginning to feel that Dunnett might need a helping hand if Simpson was to be derailed. The chairman gestured to a well-known local businessman.

  ‘Who do you consider would be the right person to succeed Winston Churchill as leader of our party?’

  ‘I didn’t realize there was a vacancy,’ said Simpson, which was greeted by laughter and further applause, before he added in a more serious tone, ‘We would be foolish to think of replacing the greatest prime minister of this century without a damn good reason for doing so.’

  The applause was deafening, and it was some time before Dunnett could make himself heard.

  ‘I believe Mr Churchill has made it clear that when the time comes, his preferred choice to succeed him would be Sir Anthony Eden, our distinguished and much admired foreign secretary. If that’s good enough for Mr Churchill, it’s good enough for me.’

  The applause was not quite as deafening.

  Over the next thirty minutes, as questions continued to come thick and fast, Fisher felt that Simpson was consolidating his position as favourite. However, Fisher was confident that the last three questions would assist his candidate, not least because he’d planted two of them, and had arranged with the chairman that he would ask the final question himself.

  Bill Hawkins looked at his watch.

  ‘I think there’s just enough time left for three more questions.’ He pointed to a man at the back, who had been constantly trying to catch his eye. Fisher smiled.

  ‘Would the two candidates care to give their views on the proposed new divorce laws?’

  There was an audible gasp, followed by an expectant hush, as few people in the room doubted that this question was aimed at Sir Giles Barrington rather than either of the two candidates on the stage.

  ‘I intensely dislike our antiquated divorce laws, which clearly need reforming,’ said the barrister. ‘I only hope the subject doesn’t dominate the election campaign in this constituency, because I would prefer to beat Barrington on merit, and not to have to rely on rumour and innuendo.’

  Fisher didn’t find it difficult to understand why Central Office considered Simpson to be a future cabinet minister, but he also knew that this wasn’t the answer the local members wanted to hear.

  Dunnett quickly gauged the reaction of the audience, and said, ‘While I agree with much of what Mr Simpson has just said, I feel the voters of Bristol Docklands have the right to know the truth about Barrington’s domestic arrangements before they go to the ballot box, and not after.’

  The first round of applause was clearly in favour of Dunnett.

  The chairman pointed to Peter Maynard, who was seated in the middle of the front row.

  ‘We in this constituency are looking for more than a Member of Parliament,’ said Maynard, reading from a prepared script. ‘Rather, we are looking for a partnership, a team. Can both candidates assure us that we will regularly see their wives in the constituency supporting them during the run-up to the general election, because we never see Lady Barrington from one year to the next.’

  The first questioner to receive a round of applause.

  ‘My wife is already by my side,’ said Dunnett, gesturing towards an attractive young woman seated in the second row, ‘as she will be throughout the campaign. In fact if I become your Member of Parliament, you’ll probably see a lot more of Connie than you will of me.’

  Fisher smiled. He knew the question played to Dunnett’s strengths and, just as important, to Simpson’s weakness. Mind you, when he had sent out the letters inviting them to attend the meeting, he had addressed one envelope to Mr and Mrs Dunnett, and the other simply to N. Simpson Esq.

  ‘My wife is a lecturer at the London School of Economics,’ said Simpson, ‘but she would be free to visit the constituency most weekends and during the university holidays.’ Fisher could feel the votes slipping away. ‘And I’m sure you’ll agree there can be no greater calling than teaching the next generation.’

  The applause that followed suggested that one or two people didn’t altogether agree that the LSE was the best way of doing it.

  ‘And finally,’ said the chairman, ‘I know that our secretary, Major Fisher, has a question for both candidates.’

  ‘I read in the Daily Mail this morning,’ said Fisher, ‘so it’s possibly not true’ – both candidates laughed dutifully – ‘that the London constituency of Fulham Central has also selected its shortlist, and will be interviewing prospective candidates on Monday. I wondered if either of you are on that shortlist and, if you are, would you be willing to withdraw from that contest before we vote tonight?’

  ‘I did not apply for Fulham Central,’ said Dunnett, ‘as I have always wanted to represent a seat in the West Country, where my wife was born and bred, and where we hope to raise a family.’

  Fisher nodded. Simpson had to wait for the applause to die down.

  ‘I am on the shortlist for Fulham Central, Major Fisher,’ he began, ‘and I would consider it to be discourteous to withdraw my name at such short notice without good reason. However, if I were fortunate enough to be selected tonight, I couldn’t have a better reason to withdraw.’

  Good recovery, thought Fisher as he listened to the applause that followed. But was it good enough?

  The chairman rose from his place. ‘I am sure you will all join me in thanking both candidates not only for giving up their valuable time to be with us tonight, but for making such splendid contributions. I have no doubt that both will become Members of Parliament, but unfortunately we can only select one of them.’ Yet more applause. ‘And so now we come to the vote. Let me explain how I intend to proceed. If members will kindly make their way to the front of the hall, our association secretary Major Fisher will issue you with ballot papers. After you have placed a cross beside the name of the candidate of your choice, please drop your voting slip into the ballot box. Once the count has been completed and the secretary and I have checked the papers, which shouldn’t take long, I will announce which candidate has been chosen to represent the Conservative Party in Bristol Docklands at the forthcoming general election.’

  The members formed an orderly queue while Fisher handed out just over 300 ballot papers. After the last vote had been cast, the chairman asked a steward to remove the ballot box and take it to a private room behind the stage.

  When the chairman and the secretary entered the room a few minutes later, they found the ballot box on a table in the centre, guarded by the steward. They sat down on two wooden chairs placed opposite each other. The steward unlocked the ballot box before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

  Once he heard the door close, the chairman stood up, opened the box and tipped the voting slips out on to the table. As he sat