by Carl Andrew
“No, please no,” Leon jumped in before Ally could relay the message he’d been building up the courage to communicate for a while.
“Leon, dad’s gone,” on the final word of the sentence, Ally started crying.
“No, he can’t. I’m not there. I need to be there. He can’t,” Leon was frantic. His voice woke Abby, who immediately sensed something was wrong.
She sat up, but didn’t know what to do. She was motionless and just stared at Leon.
“There was nothing you could do. There was nothing any of us could do,” Ally managed to gather himself together. There were things he needed to say.
“He collapsed a couple of hours ago. Mum called the ambulance but… but it was too late.”
“They pronounced him dead at the hospital. He wasn’t in any pain,” Ally added.
For some reason, Leon exploded when he heard this.
“Of course he was in pain. He’d been in pain for the last 20 years but he just had to deal with it,” he shouted.
“Why do people always say that when someone dies? Of course he was in pain.”
Abby placed a hand on Leon’s shoulder, he acknowledged it.
No one spoke for a moment or two.
Then guilt took hold of Leon. “Ally, I’m sorry. I… I just can’t believe this. I’m sorry,” he said.
“You don’t have to apologise. It’s a shock for us all. I think it’s best if you come up here. I know it’s still early but there’s a lot we need to do,” Ally replied.
“Of course, we’ll get the first train,” Leon turned to Abby and she nodded. He didn’t need to ask her permission, she would support him whatever needed to be done.
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Bolton, Lancashire
The train journey up from London was quiet, sombre, as expected.
Abby took on the role of confidante with dignity and aplomb, knowing when to speak, when to listen and when to stay quiet.
Right now, in this part of the journey, this part of Leon’s journey; it was apt to remain quiet.
Leon stared out of the window. The countryside they were passing was beautiful, inspirational but he didn’t notice it. It didn’t register at all. His head was already full to the brim.
His mind was battling conflicting thoughts. He was sad that he would never see his dad alive again. He felt cheated, robbed.
Conversely, he was fighting the guilty feeling that a part of him was happy his dad was dead. Happy that the pain he must have been in was over. Happy that his life in Leon’s eyes, had been a success. Happy that before he died, they had patched up their differences.
He was also nervous. He feared the small talk with distant family members who would obviously gather at the Bryant house to bid farewell.. He was concerned that he might start to cry.
He wasn’t sure if it was more dignified to cry or not to cry in such a situation.
There were no hard and fast rules of behaviour with something like this, nothing definitive about how he should behave.
This was one of life’s challenges that he would need to deal with by himself.
He looked over at Abby. He looked at her beauty, enjoying his feelings for her.
He wanted nothing more than to grab her hand and run away from all of this but he had commitments. They wouldn’t go away.
Before long, the train pulled in to Bolton Station. They exited and saw Ally waiting for them, ever dependable Ally. For whatever Leon was feeling he knew that Ally was feeling it much worse.
Leon could dip in and dip out of this family situation. Ally was now the top man, the decision maker. Through such a loss, his responsibilities had grown. Poor Ally, Leon thought to himself.
The rest of the day was a blur. By the time his head hit the pillow he could only really recall holding his mum. Holding her for what felt like hours, desperately trying to protect her as best he could.
The memory of seeing his dad for the last time in his coffin was too difficult to recall at that stage but would stay with him for ever.
There were moments with other extended family members, awkward conversations and faces that melded into one. Then there was Abby, his rock, his foundation. He struggled to imagine how he would have coped had she not been there.
At some point over the next few days, Ally had moved the conversation on to the funeral and beyond. He had tasks for each of the brothers. Leon’s task was to use his skill. He was writing the words, the eulogy, planning the service.
It was perhaps the most difficult task because the words stay there. They remain on the page. They only disappear if the writer wants them to but otherwise they act as a constant reminder of what’s happened. You can’t get away from the reality when you’re the owner of the words.
Still, he battled through it. He got what was in his heart down on paper. And he spoke them; he spoke them in front of an audience of familiar and unfamiliar faces when the day of the funeral arrived.
He spoke them as the tears rolled down the delicate cheeks of his loved ones. He spoke them as his own emotional barrier broke his voice changing pitch and tone as it did so.
Then there was the wake, a time for old stories of happier times, memories of hardship, struggle and victory. Solemnness danced with joviality. Smiles were replaced by bitterness and then resurfaced.
By the end of the day, the celebration of his dad’s life was over in its overt capacity but would always remain with him.
He and Abby stayed with the family for the next few days dealing with the financial and other business side of his fathers’ passing.
When they eventually returned back to London, Leon had accepted the reality of the events. He’d had his time to register and deal with the situation. He was back again, back to being Leon.
Chapter 26:
Mid-January - 10 Downing Street, London
David couldn’t shake the feeling that the Government was riding on the crest of a wave. Liquid chips had been rolled out to the entire country and foreign Governments had been contacting both he and Russell for advice over the past few weeks.
David had also started to bring Vanessa back into the fold a lot more. Russell put this down to David’s positivity because of the success of the Anti-Social Behaviour Act and the popularity of his Prime Ministership.
Figures from the Bank of England were released earlier that morning and David was pleased they confirmed the signs of prosperity that had become noticeable to him over the last few months.
The economy definitely looked buoyant over the Christmas period. Shops were full to the brim and Town Centres were crowded.
People were spending and unemployment was down. It was a good combination for the Government at that moment. The figures showed the UK economy growing at 2.7%, way above other European nations.
Two years ago, the outlook was bleak and the country seemed to be heading into another recession. Now, it couldn’t be further away.
David had to put the recovery down to positivity. The feel good factor as some called it.
His day was filled with planning and strategy meetings. He was delighted that the next few weeks would see him remain in the UK for a solid period of time. It enabled him to catch up with all departments and map out the year ahead.
Aside from the Anti-Social Behaviour Act, the biggest use of his time since he came into power had been overseas visits to maintain relations with important trading partners.
He had other areas to focus on and he was determined to give them a fair amount of attention.
First up, the Department for Transport…
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Finsbury Park, London
Leon’s day also focused on the Bank of England figures. He had settled back into his normal routine after his dad’s funeral.
He still found himself lost in moments where he would stare blankly at something inanimate for entirely too long but those occasions were becoming fewer.
The previous week or so had given him the opportunity to take stock of stories he was pursuing and consider them holistically.
He thought about the Government and the dramatic change that had been seen. The meteoric rise in popularity and he considered how different the political landscape would have been had things not gone their way.
When things seemed to be going too well, the investigative journalist in Leon came out. It was as though he was intentionally looking for an issue or a problem.
Also under his scrutiny was the shadowy Interface Science Labs in Cambridge. Ever since the bid process and his visit to the facility, Leon had a funny feeling about the company.
However hard he dug though, he couldn’t find anything concrete to support his feeling. Everything seemed above board. It frustrated him.
And today, the Bank of England figures added further credibility to the profile of the Government. It was all a little too comfortable for Leon.
He reviewed the figures and jotted down his story outline. His email was quiet and Abby was out shopping with her mum so he had time to ponder.
He played around with the words and considered the angle. After another hour or so pontificating, he finally arrived at a structure he was comfortable with.
He opened his laptop and started writing:
BoE figures support Govt’s positive outlook but is everything that glitters really gold?
Today’s report on the economy from the Bank of England goes someway to supporting the stance of Prime Minister Lawson that the country is moving in the right direction.
The numbers show a thriving economy with low unemployment and an increase in consumer spending.
With economic growth set to be around 2.7%, the UK has become Europe’s guiding light and the next year is set to be one of prosperity.
Today’s figures are a far cry from the doom mongering articles from two years ago that predicted it would be years before the economy improved and heralded a new dawn of recession.
The turnaround has been nothing short of impressive and leaves David Lawson in a strong position but one which is, rather bizarrely, alien to him during his time in power.
To date, the Prime Minister has managed to successfully negotiate through a period of crisis.
The dramatic reduction of anti-social behaviour and knock on effect of an improvement in the economy are testament to the excellent job the Government has done to date.
However, we now have a Prime Minister tried and tested during turbulent times but one who is unfamiliar with managing a country in prosperity.
History tells us that leaders fall into a few categories, those that perform well in good times, those that perform well in bad and those all-rounders who could do it all.
So, the question I pose today asks: Is David Lawson a Churchill or a Thatcher?
As ever, please add comments below or send an email to [email protected]
He reviewed the post and was satisfied with its tone. He clicked to publish and waited, with interest, to hear the response from the public.
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A week later - 10 Downing Street, London
David walked over to the cabinet and poured two long drinks.
“So you see Bob, it’s only a matter of identifying the right strategy and sticking with it,” he said to Robert Johnstone, the Canadian Ambassador to UK, before handing him one of the large glasses of brandy.
He had spent the evening entertaining Robert and his wife before she had decided to call it a night. They had known each other for many years after both rising up through the political ranks. David knew he could speak openly to Robert.
Tonight, they were keen to talk business. The Ambassador wanted to understand more about the Anti-Social Behaviour Act. David had his own reasons for extending the evening.
While it hadn’t been as extreme, there had been pockets of tension in some Canadian cities where violence was a problem.
David was trying to explain that the solution adopted in UK was not a one size fits all, each country was different, each challenge unique.
“I would suggest understanding the appetite for change among your people. If it isn’t there then there could be reticence to engage in the liquid chip programme,” David continued.
“I appreciate what you’re saying but I would still be keen to speak with your Dr Hopwood and also the team at Interface Science Labs,” Robert responded.
“Do you think that would be possible?”
“I’m sure we can arrange something. Now I’m interested in talking about the oil exploration project you’ve got going on at the moment,” David was keen to move on to something more to do with the UK’s interests.
At that point, there was a knock on the door. David turned to Robert and gave him a look of apology. Robert gestured to see who it was.
“Come in,” David commanded.
The door opened and a sheepish looking Janet walked in.
“Janet, I thought I told you I didn’t want to be disturbed,” David said with frustration.
“I’m terribly sorry sir,” Janet replied. “I wouldn’t trouble you unless it was important.”
“What is it?”
“I have Simeon Purcell on the phone. He says it’s urgent.” Janet said.
Simeon Purcell was head of MI5 and one of David’s old university friends. They had seemingly been in competition since then and both tried to outdo each other in order to land the top job. Some say Simeon won.
David looked out towards the fireplace to give him a moment to think. Satisfied with his deliberation, he then turned to Janet and said:
“Tell him I’ll call him in the morning.”
Unrelenting, Janet responded: “He thought you’d say that and asked me to tell you it was about N5 Sir.”
David was startled.
“Are you sure he said N5?”
“Yes sir, he asked me to repeat it back to him so I was clear.”
N5 was a code he had put in place with the senior people at the most important institutions in the UK. It included members of the Cabinet as well as the Army, Navy, Air Force, SIS, Special Branch and Simeon Purcell at MI5.
It stood for November 5th and related to Guy Fawkes and the gunpowder plot. It was only to be used in matters where there was an attempt to bring down the Government.
It was never used lightly.
David turned to Robert.
“Robert, I’m sorry about this. Can we continue this conversation in the morning?”
Robert duly obliged. He was intrigued but it wasn’t his place to ask further details.
“Of course. Good night Prime Minister.”
He smiled to Janet as he walked by and left the room.
“Please put Simeon through to a secure line thank you Janet,” David asked.
Janet exited the room and David walked over to his desk.
Within a few seconds the light lit up on David’s phone and he took a deep breath in before picking up.
“Simeon, this had better be good,” David said, uncertain of what to expect.
“David, we need to talk.”
“About what?” he asked.
“We need to talk in person.” Simeon was not messing around. David could tell by the tone.
“Am I in danger?” David asked referring to the use of the N5 code.
“It could become that way but it’s not imminent,” Simeon responded.
“David,” he said again. “We need to meet.”
“Ok, how, when?” He said.
“Kippers Playground, 6am tomorrow.”
Kipper’s Playground referred to Victoria Embankment Gardens by Embankment Station facing the Thames.
David and Simeon were part of a literature group at university and both had an appreciation for Rudyard Kipling’s work. When they started working in London, they used to meet up at the Gardens for lunch.
They called it Kipper’s Playground because it was
the Park closest to the Blue Plaque featuring Rudyard Kipling’s name in Villiers Street.
“I’ll be there,” David said.
He replaced the handset and leant back in his chair. His right hand cradled his brandy glass. His left hand combed through his hair.
The call concerned him. He hated not knowing things. He knew better than to push Simeon for more information. He had to play the game.
He gulped his brandy down and walked over to the cabinet to pour himself another.
He was preparing himself for a restless night.
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6am - Kipper’s Playground, London
David got out of his car and was secreted through a discreet entrance to Victoria Embankment Gardens.
The morning was bright but frosty. The sky was blue and it was the kind of crisp winter day that David enjoyed. It reminded him of the days he used to row at university.
The thought of getting up and braving the cold to row was painful but the feeling of pure joy and exhilaration following practice was something he would never forget.
Simeon was already waiting in their usual lunch spot. It was secluded behind a row of bushes to one side and the main road as well as the river to the other.
They didn’t need to be so secretive however, the park was completely secured.
Early morning workers and those coming back from night shifts were denied their usual shortcut through nature by chains on the gates to the park.
There was no further explanation required other than the park was closed. They accepted this with the usual tut of displeasure that most Londoners displayed when they were unsatisfied, but then got on with their lives.
They were completely oblivious to the power meeting taking place not more than 200 metres away.
David greeted Simeon with a firm handshake and got straight to the point.
“So, why am I here Simeon?”