Best Kept Secret Read online

  Fisher raised an eye to see if anyone would second the proposal. The secretary obliged.

  ‘Those in favour,’ said Maynard. Several hands around the table shot up. Maynard waited until the last reluctant hand finally joined the majority, before saying, ‘I declare the motion carried unanimously.’ The announcement was followed by loud applause.

  ‘I am quite overwhelmed, gentlemen,’ said Fisher, ‘and I accept the confidence you have shown in me with humility, because as you all know, I have always put the party first, and this is the last outcome I could have envisaged. However, you can be assured,’ he continued, ‘that I will do everything in my power to defeat Giles Barrington at the election, and return a Conservative to the House of Commons to represent Bristol Docklands’ – a speech he had rehearsed several times, as he knew he wouldn’t be able to refer to any notes.

  The committee shot out of their seats and began applauding loudly. Fisher bowed his head and smiled. He would call Virginia as soon as he got home, and tell her that the small payment she’d authorized for Mitchell to discover if any of the candidates had something in their backgrounds that might embarrass the party had proved a more than worthwhile investment. Fisher now felt confident that he could humiliate Barrington, and this time it would be on the battlefield.

  ‘Benny, it’s Major Fisher.’

  ‘Always good to hear from you, major, especially as a little bird tells me that congratulations are in order.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Fisher, ‘but that’s not why I’m phoning.’

  ‘My pen is poised, major.’

  ‘I want you to carry out the same transaction as before, but this time there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have a little flutter yourself.’

  ‘You must be very sure of yourself, major,’ said Benny. When he received no reply, he added, ‘So that’s a sell order for two hundred thousand Barrington’s shares.’

  ‘Confirmed,’ said Fisher. ‘But once again, the timing is vital.’

  ‘Just tell me when you want to place the order, major.’

  ‘On May the fifth, the day of Barrington’s AGM. But it’s important the transaction is settled before ten o’clock that morning.’

  ‘Consider it done.’ After a moment’s pause, Benny added, ‘So the whole transaction will be completed by the day of the election?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘What an ideal day for killing two birds with one stone.’

  GILES BARRINGTON

  1955

  22

  IT WAS JUST after midnight when the phone rang. Giles knew there was only one person who’d dare to call him at that hour.

  ‘Don’t you ever go to bed, Griff?’

  ‘Not when the Conservative candidate resigns halfway through an election campaign,’ replied his agent.

  ‘What are you talking about?’ said Giles, suddenly wide awake.

  ‘Greg Dunnett has resigned, stating health reasons. But there has to be a lot more to it than that, since Fisher has taken his place. Try to get some sleep, as I need you in the office by seven so we can decide how to play this. Frankly, as the Americans would say, it’s a whole different ball game.’

  But Giles didn’t sleep. He’d thought for some time that Fisher was up to something, and now he knew what it was. He must have planned to be the candidate from the start. Dunnett was nothing more than a sacrificial lamb.

  Giles had already accepted that as he was defending a majority of only 414, and the polls were predicting that the Tories would increase their number of seats, he had a real fight on his hands. And now he was up against someone he knew was willing to send men to their graves if he thought it would help him survive. Gregory Dunnett was his latest victim.

  Harry and Emma turned up at Barrington Hall the following morning. They found Giles having breakfast.

  ‘No more lunches or dinners for the next three weeks,’ said Giles as he buttered another piece of toast. ‘Just wearing out shoe leather on hard pavements, and shaking hands with countless constituents. And make sure you two stay out of the way. I don’t need anyone to be reminded that my sister and brother-in-law are staunch Tories.’

  ‘We’ll also be out there, working for a cause we believe in,’ said Emma.

  ‘That’s all I need.’

  ‘As soon as we heard Fisher was standing for the Conservatives, we decided to become fully paid-up members of the Labour Party,’ said Harry. ‘We even sent a donation to your fighting fund.’

  Giles stopped eating.

  ‘And for the next three weeks, we intend to work night and day for you, right up to the moment the polls close, if it will help ensure Fisher doesn’t win.’

  ‘But,’ said Emma, ‘there are one or two conditions before we agree to ditch our long-held principles and support you.’

  ‘I knew there had to be a catch,’ said Giles, pouring himself a large black coffee.

  ‘You’ll come and live with us in the Manor House for the rest of the campaign. Otherwise, with only Griff Haskins to take care of you, you’ll end up eating fish and chips, drinking far too much beer, and sleeping on the floor of the constituency office.’

  ‘You’re probably right. But I warn you, I’ll never be home before midnight.’

  ‘That’s fine. Just make sure you don’t wake Jessica.’

  ‘Agreed.’ Giles stood up, a piece of toast in one hand, a newspaper in the other. ‘See you this evening.’

  ‘Don’t leave the table until you’ve finished eating,’ said Emma, sounding exactly like their mother.

  Giles laughed. ‘Mama never had to fight an election,’ he reminded his sister.

  ‘She’d have made a damn good MP,’ said Harry.

  ‘That’s something we can all agree on,’ said Giles as he dashed out of the room, still clutching the toast.

  He had a quick word with Denby before running out of the house, where he found Harry and Emma sitting in the back of his Jaguar.

  ‘What are you two doing?’ he asked, as he climbed behind the wheel of his car and turned on the ignition.

  ‘We’re off to work,’ said Emma. ‘We need a lift if we’re going to sign up as volunteers.’

  ‘You do realize,’ said Giles as he drove out on to the main road, ‘it’s an eighteen-hour day, and you’re not paid.’

  When they followed Giles into his constituency headquarters twenty minutes later, Emma and Harry were impressed by how many volunteers of all ages, shapes and sizes were bustling about in every direction. Giles hurried them through to his agent’s office and introduced them to Griff Haskins.

  ‘Two more volunteers,’ he said.

  ‘Some very strange people have been joining our cause since Alex Fisher became the Tory candidate. Welcome aboard, Mr and Mrs Clifton. Now, have either of you ever canvassed before?’

  ‘No, never,’ admitted Harry. ‘Not even for the Tories.’

  ‘Then follow me,’ said Griff, leading them back into the main room. He stopped in front of a long trestle table laid out with rows of clipboards. ‘Each one of these represents a street or road in the constituency,’ he explained, handing each of them a clipboard and a set of red, green and blue pencils.

  ‘It’s your lucky day,’ continued Griff. ‘You’ve got the Woodbine estate, which is one of our strongholds. Let me explain the ground rules. When you knock on a door at this time of day, you’re more likely to get the wife answering, because her husband will be at work. If a man opens the door, he’s probably out of work, and therefore more likely to vote Labour. But whoever answers, all you have to say is, “Good morning, I’m here on behalf of Giles Barrington” – never Sir Giles – “the Labour Party candidate for the election on Thursday twenty-sixth May” – always emphasize the date – “and I hope you’ll be supporting him.” Now comes the bit where you have to use your nous. If they say, “I’ve been a Labour supporter all my life, you can rely on me,” you mark their name with the red pencil. If they’re elderly, you ask them if they’ll need a car to tak