The PM paused for dramatic effect. ‘Where spin rules, reason is wanting, honesty is wanting, public service is wanting and the role of this House is overshadowed. Spin and self-aggrandisement are unacceptable. We owe it to the people of this country to consign spin and subterfuge to the past.’ The PM paused and looked across at the opposition benches.
‘It can be expected that members of competing parties will find themselves working together running the Ministries of State. Undoubtedly, there will be differences of opinion over some issues, but this should not stop efficient Cabinet Government. This House, its committees and the Upper Chamber will have the important role of scrutinising, improving and approving the proposals put before them. The Government has many difficult decisions to make in order to steer our country forward in an appropriate direction. What I am proposing is a move away from presidential-style politics to one where the Government is, as it was decades ago, fully accountable to Parliament. Our collective aim must be to get things back on to an even keel, to rejuvenate our economy and to rebuild our damaged international reputation. I commend these proposals to the House.’
With that the PM sat down to applause from all corners of the Chamber. He looked exhausted.
The Speaker called for the Leader of Her Majesty’s Opposition. Silence returned to the Chamber as he stood up and raised aloft a pile of papers.
‘I thought I’d been well-briefed by my team when I came to the House this afternoon.’ Slowly and theatrically he lowered the pile of papers, turned and placed them where he had been sitting. ‘I won’t need them.’ He looked across at the Government benches. ‘If my sources are correct, the Prime Minister has personally been working non-stop for the past three days as part of the effort to prevent the terrorists’ attacks, for which I thank the Honourable Member. I shall be meeting with him later today and again tomorrow. Following these meetings, I shall report back to this House any concerns I might have. In the meantime there is much to digest and, in the circumstances, it would be churlish of me to find fault for the very sake of finding fault. The two Honourable Members opposite me have, with great openness, sought to provide leadership and the wherewithal to enable our country to extricate itself from the horrendous tragedy of Stratford.’ He cast his eyes upwards towards the television camera.
‘I should like to pay my respects to all those who have lost and those who will lose their lives as a result of this nuclear catastrophe, and to thank all those in the emergency services, the armed forces and the intelligence services who have helped in our hour of need. I’d like to express my sympathy to all those who lost their homes or businesses in the “Isle of Stratford”, and to thank all those people and companies who helped selflessly.’
With that, the leader of the official opposition party sat down. The eyes in the House, as if following a tennis ball at Wimbledon, moved along the front row and focused on the leader of the third political party. It was his turn. He had a reputation for holding strong environmental views and a nuclear disaster was something he had warned against over many years. Would he use the events of last Friday to put the knife in? So far, the Home Secretary, a couple of lower ranking ministers and a number of quango employees involved in the nuclear industry had resigned. Would he try to make this a resigning matter for the Prime Minister as well? He stood up and looked around the silent Chamber.
‘It is on the record that my party places huge importance on environmental issues and has a profound distrust of matters nuclear.’
The House sensed that things were going to get interesting.
‘The Stratford nuclear disaster will haunt us for generations to come and its occurrence is political dynamite. Its consequences will be felt by every individual in this country. A lesser Government might have tried to spin its way out of the quagmire. Instead, this Government has come here today with a rational, inclusive and cohesive plan, which I believe will provide the foundations for this country to prosper again and will bring environmental and sustainability issues to the centre of our culture.’
‘I look forward to meeting with the Prime Minister later today and again tomorrow morning. I shall come back to the House and report more fully on these discussions and will raise such questions that I believe require answering.’ He paused and in a sombre tone added, ‘I, too, wish to pay my respects to all those who have suffered and to convey my great thanks to all those who have helped in this time of crisis.’ He looked around the House and sat down.
One of the colonel’s team was beckoning Rafi to pick up the phone nearest to him.
It was Aidan. ‘What do you think?’ he enquired.
‘That’s unfair,’ an ecstatic Rafi replied, ‘you’re the one with the screens in front of you.’
‘The currency markets are seeing big support for Sterling. Several early punters bet on it going through the floor and have had their fingers burnt. The support since the Chancellor’s statement has been unprecedented. And, Rafi, the terrorists and their banks will be sitting on some mind-bogglingly large losses when the derivatives markets open tomorrow! Did the PM and the Chancellor perform some kind of miracle, or what?’
‘Better than I could have prayed for,’ Rafi replied.
‘Basically, things are looking marvellous! Must dash - see you around Rafi. Bye.’
Rafi called across to anyone within earshot, ‘Aidan says that the markets loved the PM’s and the Chancellor’s speeches. And that the terrorists and their bankers are being taken to the cleaners.’
Colonels Gray and Turner and their teams looked ready to drop. But they looked happy as they packed up their kit – the military operation was complete. The Wood Street Ops Room had served its purpose well.
Len Thunhurst and his team were jubilant. It was their turn now as the focus swung onto the arrest of those implicated with the terrorist activities.
A spreadsheet visible on a large screen showed the tally of the arrests. The table showing the names in red, blue and black – slowly at first, then more rapidly – turned yellow as the arrests continued.
Rafi looked up at the TV screen. A well-known political commentator was attempting to sum up the activities of the afternoon. The words unprecedented, remarkable and incomparable were used frequently in his report. He finished by saying that it had been a great day for British democracy.
Rafi looked back across the room. The large screen showed Operation Dry Clean to be progressing well. The number of arrests was continuing to rise swiftly.
Chapter 8
Rafi had had enough.
Kate walked over and gave him a hug. ‘Let’s get some rest. I’m no longer needed here.’
‘Fine by me,’ replied Rafi.
‘I’m afraid it’s time for normality to resume. No more chauffeur-driven cars. How about I get us a taxi?’
Rafi nodded. Fifteen minutes later they picked up an evening paper and got into the black taxi waiting for them. The February evening was bleak and cold.
‘Where to?’
‘Clapham, please,’ answered Kate.
‘The traffic is awful – it could take a while.’
‘No problem,’ Kate looked at Rafi. ‘Is it OK if we pick up our stuff from the Savoy tomorrow? I hope you don’t mind, but I rang the hotel and told them that they can let someone else have our room.’
Rafi smiled at her. ‘What else have you been up to?’
‘Oh, there’s one other bit of news,’ she grinned. ‘As of now, I’m sort of on holiday. I’ve been ordered to spend two weeks helping you convalesce!’
Rafi smiled, ‘that’s the best news I’ve heard in ages.’
‘And it gets better. I thought you might like to get this back,’ she said, passing him his wallet and personal effects from Paddington Green.
‘Thank you. I can now pay for Luigi’s and the hotel suite. And I can do some clothes shopping.’
Kate gave him a big hug. ‘That sounds like fun – I hope I am included! By the way, how did you get on with the hotel in Cornwall?’
she enquired.
‘They have found a small suite for us. I told them we would be arriving tomorrow, early afternoon and staying between ten days and a fortnight,’ replied Rafi.
Kate curled up against him on the back seat.
‘So much for me going out with a butch police officer,’ he whispered into her ear.
‘Don’t be silly,’ came the soft reply. ‘They employ me for my brains and not my body!’
As the taxi approached Clapham, on Kate’s say-so, it turned into a tree-lined street off the Common and pulled up in front of a red brick terraced house.
‘Home sweet home,’ beamed Kate as she joined Rafi after paying the driver.
‘Come on, let’s get inside, it’s freezing cold out here.’ Kate unlocked the front door and they entered a small communal area, with two front doors. ‘Mine is the upstairs flat.’ There was a clunk as she unlocked her front door.
‘Good lock,’ Rafi commented.
‘Yes; you never know who might come calling.’
Inside, on the mat, was a pile of mail – most of which looked like junk. Kate scooped it up and headed upstairs. Her flat comprised a sitting room, a small kitchen, a cosy bath room and a good-sized double bedroom at the back of the house. The place felt like a deep freeze.
‘Is your central heating not working, by any chance?’
‘Sorry. I turn the thermostat down when I go out. Don’t worry, it’ll soon get warm.’
Kate scurried around – closing the curtains and lighting the gas fire in the sitting room before heading off towards the kitchen.
Rafi joined her and they stood there waiting for the kettle to boil. ‘Long-life milk, I’m afraid. Sugar?’
‘No, thanks.’
‘Come on, follow me – let’s get warm.’ Instead of going towards the sitting room, Kate turned right and headed for her bedroom.
It was a friendly looking room; simply furnished. In the middle of the wall, facing the window, was a large double bed. Kate placed Rafi’s mug of coffee on one bedside table and hers on the other. He looked across at her, wondering what exactly she was going to do next. She slipped off her shoes, stripped off her coat and hopped fully clothed into bed.
‘It’s cold in here – I could do with your body heat to warm me up,’ came the suggestive but gentle request.
Rafi sat on the side of the bed and took his coat and shoes off.
‘Come on, I’m freezing!’
He climbed under the duvet. Kate was right – the bed was freezing. Rafi moved over to her side and snuggled up. She wrapped her arms around him; her gorgeous eyes were inches away from his. He lay there staring into the sparkling deep brown colours, savouring the warmth of her body next to his. She moved forward and kissed him softly on the lips. He was in heaven.
‘If it’s alright with you, I thought we could have something from the freezer for supper and spend the evening in bed. How’s the coffee, by the way?’ asked Kate.
Rafi hadn’t touched it yet. He moved back to his cold side of the bed, took a couple of mouthfuls and returned to her warmth. He lay there thinking - what a long time it had been since he’d had a girlfriend… And he had known Kate scarcely a week! What were things coming to? Rafi felt happier than he could remember.
‘Tell me about the hotel we’re staying at,’ asked Kate.
‘It’s just outside Newquay. It’s got four stars and overlooks the Atlantic Ocean.’
‘Did you say the bedrooms were nice?’ enquired Kate.
‘Yep.’
‘And?’
‘They have big, comfy beds!’
‘Just what the doctor ordered,’ replied Kate, who snuggled closer to him.
The proximity of her body, which was now nestling partly on top of him, made it difficult to concentrate. He wondered what she was going to do next. She leant forward, gave him a lingering kiss on the lips and wriggled her body. The effect was electric. She kissed his cheek and, to his disappointment, rolled off him and slipped out of bed.
‘Why don’t I rustle up some supper?’
He watched her slim figure disappear out of the room and lay there enjoying the warmth of the bed and the anticipation of things to come. This was the first time for a long while that he had felt relaxed, comfortable and truly happy.
Kate reappeared a few minutes later, clutching another cup of hot coffee. ‘I guessed you wanted to stay warm.’ She left again leaving him to his drink and thoughts. Rafi sipped at it, savouring its warmth. After several minutes he got up, and went to see what Kate was doing. The temperature in the flat had returned to a comfortable level now. He looked around him as he walked down the corridor to the kitchen and sitting room. The place was small, but homely. It was very different to his flat in Hampstead. On reflection, he came to the surprising conclusion that he preferred it. This place had the essence of Kate and that made it special.
He walked into the kitchen.
‘The pizza will be ready in about twenty minutes; sorry, the oven takes ages to get hot. In the meantime, I’m going to have a bath. I’d invite you to share it with me, but we would get stuck – it’s rather small. The sitting room is nice and warm now though. Perhaps the news might be worth listening to?’
Rafi turned and went into the sitting room. He picked up the remote controls and switched on the television. He eventually found the 24-hour news channels and flicked through them. On the first one he saw a photo of himself and heard the reporter saying: ‘Mr Rafi Khan has been instrumental in enabling the police to catch the terrorists…’
Rafi flicked to another channel. CNN was running a bulletin on the money markets and the American commentator was interviewing a foreign exchange trader who was describing the day’s trading.
‘Been quite a day! That British Finance Chancellor caught us on the hop. We thought Sterling was going to be a one-way bet down through the floor, but when we found out that our Fed, the ECB and the Central Banks of China and Japan – to name but a few – were piling in to support Sterling, we knew that the speculators were beaten. And as if that wasn’t enough, the British Finance Minister then found a couple of hundred billion pounds without tapping the bond markets. And then he set out how the £1,100 billion unfunded public sector pension deficit will be tackled … The currency markets have given up the fight. The steam has literally gone out of trying to short Sterling. It’s been quite a day; one I’ll remember for a long time!’
The TV interviewer switched across to a stockbroker. ‘Tell us, Irvine, about these new UK Government REITs.’ Rafi listened to Irvine tell his American audience how it was the US who had created the Real Estate Investment Trust structure some decades ago. His view was that the UK Government had done something that some saw as brave, while many others looked at it thinking, ‘Gee, why on earth haven’t we done that?’
Before being cut off by the interviewer, the broker gave a throwaway remark that made Rafi first smile, then chuckle, ‘What has captivated us is this new UK not-for-profit corporation: like a public company but controlled by custodianholders -the people - and not shareholders. The change in accounting methods alone will bring huge efficiency gains. It’s a great idea and will knock the stuffing out of our game theory junkies; hats off to the UK Chancellor!’
‘What are the prospects for tomorrow?’ asked the interviewer.
‘It should be business as usual,’ came the reply.
The cameras panned back to the interviewer in the CNN studio.
‘Well, there it is! An extraordinary day on the money markets; the UK currency and its economy seem set to fight another day. Who would have thought it? It’s a big surprise. Tomorrow the world’s eyes will be on the reopening of the UK financial markets. The omens look good, but who knows? Will the London Stock Market hold its nerve or will it be a bloodbath?’
The timer in the kitchen started bleeping. Rafi switched off the TV. Kate was still in the bathroom.
‘The bleeper’s gone, what should I do?’ Rafi called out.
‘Co
uld you see if the pizza is cooked? If it is, could you put it in the top oven to keep it warm?’
‘Will do,’ Rafi replied as he went back into the kitchen. Its size suddenly struck him; it was a fifth of the size of his. Small it might be, but nevertheless it worked well – like Kate, he thought to himself.
The pizza was cooked. He opened the tin of baked beans which he found on the side and poured them into a saucepan. How long had it been since he’d had baked beans? Ages. Probably university, he thought. With his larger than average salary his diet had gone somewhat upmarket. He gave the beans a stir.
Rafi’s mind wandered and he found himself wondering what a young detective inspector might earn. Probably little more than a university research fellow, he guessed. It then dawned on him that, following the events of the last few days, he was effectively unemployed.
At that same moment his thoughts took another turn. He smelt a sweet fragrance. This was followed by a sexy hug from behind.
‘A penny for your thoughts?’
‘Oh, it’s just dawned on me that I’m out of work.’
‘That’s good news! Now you can do something worthwhile, and not just because it pays handsomely. You know, when I saw your bank statements I could hardly believe what a fund manager was paid. On average, you were earning more in a month than I earned in a year. Though, I suppose that those of us protecting Queen and Country do it for the job satisfaction, and to eat baked beans rather than caviar! How’s supper coming along?’
‘Pizza is cooked and the beans are hot.’
‘Why are we standing around?’ Kate had two trays quickly laid. ‘Water or orange juice? No good offering you wine or a G&T, is it?’
LATENT HAZARD: On the Edge Page 39