First Among Equals Read online

  “That’s not possible,” said Fiona under her breath.

  “And I am also informed,” continued Pimkin, “that some of the more ungenerous of our brethren are already suggesting the name of several candidates for the role of father.”

  “Alec, you’re incorrigible.”

  “My dear, it is common knowledge that Amanda has slept with half the Cabinet and a considerable cross section of back-benchers.”

  “Stop exaggerating,” said Fiona.

  “And what’s more,” continued Pimkin as if he hadn’t heard her, “she has only stopped short of the Labour front bench because her mother told her they were common and she might catch something from them.”

  Alexander laughed again. “But surely Charles hasn’t fallen for the pregnancy trick?”

  “Hook, line, and sinker. He’s like an Irishman who’s been locked into a Guinness brewery over the weekend. Dear Amanda has my Honorable friend uncorking her at every opportunity.”

  “But she’s plain stupid,” said Alexander. “The only time I met her she assured me that Michael Parkinson was turning out to be an excellent chairman of the party.”

  “Stupid she may well be,” said Pimkin, “but plain she is not and together, I’m told, they are updating the Kama Sutra.”

  “Enough, Alec, enough,” said Fiona, laughing.

  “You’re right,” said Pimkin, aware that his glass was nearly empty once again. “A man of my impeccable reputation cannot afford to be seen associating with people living in sin. I must leave immediately, darlings,” he said, rising to his feet. Pimkin put his glass down and Alexander accompanied him to the front door.

  As it closed Alexander turned to Fiona. “Never short of useful information, our former member,” he said.

  “I agree,” said Fiona. “So much gleaned for such a small investment in Beefeaters.”

  As Alexander walked back into the drawing room he added, “Does it change your plans for the return of the Holbein?”

  “Not in any way,” said Fiona.

  “So you’ll still be at Sotheby’s next week for their Old Masters sale?”

  Fiona smiled. “Certainly. And if the price is right we won’t have to worry about what we give Charles for a wedding present.”

  Three weeks after the bombing Simon left the Westminster Hospital on crutches, Elizabeth by his side. His right leg had been so shattered that he had been told he would never walk properly again. As he stepped out on to Horseferry Road a hundred cameras flashed to meet their editors’ demand to capture the instant hero. He smiled as if there were no pain. “Don’t let those murderers think they got to you,” he was warned by both sides. Elizabeth’s smile showed only relief that her husband was still alive.

  After three weeks of complete rest Simon returned to his Irish Charter against doctor’s orders, knowing the document was still due to be debated in the House in less than a fortnight. The Secretary of State and the other Minister of State for Northern Ireland visited him at home on several occasions and it was agreed that the Minister of State would take over Simon’s responsibilities temporarily and deliver the winding-up speech. During his absence the whole Northern Ireland office grew to realize just how much work Simon had put into the Charter, and no one was at all complacent about taking his place.

  The attempt on Simon’s life and the build up to the special debate on the Charter became of such national interest that the BBC decided to broadcast the entire proceedings on Radio Four from three-thirty to the vote at ten o’clock.

  On the afternoon of the debate Simon sat up in bed listening to every word on the radio as if it were the final episode in his favorite serial and he was desperate to know the outcome. The speeches opened with a clear and concise presentation of the Charter by the Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, which left Simon feeling confident that the whole House would support him. The Opposition spokesman followed with a fair-minded speech, raising one or two queries he had over the controversial Patriots’ Clause with its special rights for Protestants in the south and Catholics in the north, and also how it would affect the Catholics unwilling to register in Northern Ireland. Otherwise he reassured the House that the Opposition supported the Charter and would not be calling for a division.

  Simon began to relax for the first time as the debate continued, but his mood changed as some back-bench members started to express more and more anxiety over the Patriots’ Provision. One or two back-benchers were even insisting that the Charter should not be sanctioned by the House until the need for the Patriots’ Provision was fully explained by the Government. Simon realized that a few narrow-minded men were simply playing for time in the hope the Charter would be held up and later forgotten. For generations such men had succeeded in stifling the hopes and aspirations of the Irish people while they allowed bigotry to undermine any real desire for peace.

  Elizabeth came in and sat on the end of the bed. “How’s it going?” she asked.

  “Not well,” said Simon, “it will all depend on the Opposition spokesman.”

  They both sat and listened. But no sooner had the Opposition spokesman risen that Simon realized that he too had misunderstood the real purpose of the Patriots’ Provision and that what Simon had agreed to with both sides in Dublin and Belfast was not being accurately explained to the House. There was no malice in the speech and he was clearly following what had been agreed through the usual channels but Simon could sense that his lack of conviction was sowing doubts in the minds of his fellow members. He feared a division might be called after all.

  After one or two members had interrupted to voice further doubts about the Patriots’ Clause the Shadow minister suggested: “Perhaps we should wait until the Minister of State is fully recovered and able to report to the House himself.” A few “hear, hears” could be heard around the Chamber.

  Simon felt sick. He was going to lose the Charter if it didn’t get through the House tonight. All the hard work and goodwill would count for nothing. He made a decision.

  “I’d love a hot cup of cocoa,” he said, trying to sound casual.

  “Of course, darling. I’ll just go and turn the kettle on. Would you like a biscuit while I’m up?”

  Simon nodded. Once the bedroom door was closed, he slipped quietly out of bed and dressed as quickly as possible. He picked up his blackthorn stick, a gift from Dr. Fitzgerald, the Irish Prime Minister, which had been among the dozens of presents awaiting his return from hospital. Then he hobbled silently down the stairs and across the hall, hoping Elizabeth would not hear him. He eased the front door open. When the policeman on duty saw him Simon put a finger to his lips and closed the door very slowly behind him. He made his way laboriously up to the police car, lurched into the back, and said, “Switch on the radio, please, and drive me to the House as quickly as possible.”

  Simon continued to listen to the Opposition spokesman as the police car weaved in and out of the traffic on a route he hadn’t traveled before. They arrived at the St. Stephen’s entrance to the Commons at nine-twenty-five.

  Visitors stood to one side as they might for royalty but Simon didn’t notice. He hobbled on through the Central Lobby, oblivious to the awkwardness of his gait, turning left past the policeman and on toward the entrance of the House. He prayed he would reach the Chamber before the Government spokesman rose to deliver his winding-up speech. Simon passed an astonished chief doorkeeper and arrived at the bar of the House as the new digital clock showed nine-twenty-nine.

  The Opposition spokesman was resuming his place on the front bench to muffled cries of “Hear, hear.” The Speaker rose but before he had time to call upon the Minister of State to reply Simon stepped slowly forward on to the green carpet of the Commons. For a moment there was a stunned silence; then the cheering began. It had reached a crescendo by the time Simon arrived at the front bench. His blackthorn stick fell to the floor as he clutched the dispatch box. The Speaker called out his name sotto voce.

  Simon waited for the House to co