Raise The Price

by Mark Stanley

"Ring Johnny Johnson and then get Steven to get the helicopter ready we need to go."

  I looked at my watch.

  "We can't use the helicopter it's too early I'll a car bought round."

  And with that I was getting up and pulling on some clothes. Victoria's bag was already packed and so that, at least was one less worry. I made the calls and then I went to help Victoria. I like to think that I'm a big help in times of crisis, it's just a shame my wife disagrees. She was standing, holding the sink as a contraction started. Her grimace left me in no doubt I should go and do something else.

  "That's it Billy, you go and fucking runaway leave the girls to bear the children and all of the pain, you're all fucking wankers!"

  I went out into the hallway and was met by a CPO and Philip, the old Chester Square butler who had now been seconded to Wentworth, as I walked through the door another round of expletives were fired in my direction at least Philip looked sympathetic.

  "Do I understand labour has started Sir?"

  At 4am on a Saturday morning, there wasn't too much traffic. We sped where normally one queued and within forty minutes we were arriving in Paddington and being led into the Lindo Wing at St. Mary's Hospital. Professor Johnson was already there awaiting our arrival and we were shown into the delivery suite. Victoria, lay down on the bed and her hospital gown was pulled up for an inspection. I admired his speed; it had taken me much longer to get her knickers down.

  "Well Victoria it won't be long you're already six centimetres dilated."

  It all depends on one's view of what constitutes, 'not long'. To me I think of not long being minutes, certainly less than a hour, but by 6am I was bored with the vitriolic rage and words that my wife spat at me every time a contraction would start. Even good old boy Professor Johnny Johnson appeared worried for me.

  "Do try and stay calm Victoria, you're almost there."

  "You can fuck off as well!"

  I smiled and shrugged an apology, as Johnny disappeared for another look at my wife's pussy.

  He reappeared with smiles.

  "Good, we can get on and deliver they're impatient rascals now!"

  "You fucking arsehole Stanley, if you think you're ever getting another shag you're very much mistaken!"

  The midwives were almost hysterical as Victoria continued to lambaste me with insult after insult. Johnny Johnson was now going to earn his corn.

  "Victoria, I can see the baby’s crown, now wait for the next contraction and I want a big push. Lord Stanley can you help her please?"

  I had already tried helping. Holding her hand, smoothing her brow, offering words of encouragement, but she was possessed and nothing was good enough.

  "Now, Victoria, push!"

  "Aaaaggghhhh."

  "Keep pushing, keep pushing!"

  I had retired to the business end, there was no point being at the other end, one only got bitten up there.

  "Here he comes Victoria!"

  "Shut the fuck up Stanley!"

  "Don't push Victoria, pant, pant."

  There was some tugging and manoeuvring and then, number one was here.

  "A beautiful baby boy Victoria!"

  "Stop celebrating Stanley there's another one coming!"

  And she wasn't kidding, for no sooner had 'sprog one' arrived then 'sprog two' was here. I went across with the midwives as they cleaned both of the boys up and then allowed me to cut the umbilical cords. There appeared to be some rather distasteful stuff going on at the coalface so I stayed well clear until Johnny piped up.

  "All clear Lord Stanley, time to let Mum see her new boys."

  I helped the midwife take the boys across and carefully laid them in Victoria's arms who looked at them and then at me.

  "I love them so much Billy, almost as much as I love you kiss me darling."

  And at that, the demon that had possessed her was now exorcised.

  "Do you have names for them?" Asked Johnny.

  "We do, this one, is to be called Richard, John, Hugo, Daniel, Stanley and this one will be Henry, Philip, Charles, Gerald, Stanley. What do you think?"

  "Enormous names for enormous boys, let's hope that they can live up to them."

  "So I know that I agreed to the Richard and the Henry, but you've unilaterally decided on the others?

  "Mm, I suffered the pain so you can suffer my choices. It's John to remember my Uncle who was killed in the Gulf War, Hugo, because it's one of your family names and Daniel, after my Father. Then it's Philip, named after my other Uncle who died in the Gulf War, Charles because it's another of your family names and Gerald after your Father. Happy?"

  "I can't think of finer choices, except perhaps for Mark."

  Victoria stayed in the hospital on Saturday and Sunday nights and then on Monday, I arrived to take her home.

  "You may not realise it but you look more beautiful today than you have ever looked."

  "Ah, Billy thank you, you always say the right words but you're still not getting a shag."

  "And nor are we going to be able to escape this hospital without first posing for the Press."

  "Many?"

  "Lots."

  She looked at the boys. "We don't care anymore do we guys, we have you and we have our family at home, life is just perfect."

  Normally, we would have gone off somewhere for Easter and taken the opportunity of getting some relaxation, but quite rightly, Victoria wished us to stay at home and so that's what we did. That's not to say that the children didn't have fun, they had lots of fun and were treated, well if Daddy can't spoil them who can? Flora was well settled and seemed to be thriving. The paperwork for her adoption was almost ready and we were looking forward to finalising it and changing her name to Flora, Augusta, Alice, Margaret, Stanley. The only name change was the surname all of the others had been given by Daphne.

  The fallout from the death of Daphne, had passed and now the tears were much less frequent. We spoke about Mummy lots, at bedtime or in moments of doubt with 'what would Mummy have done', Victoria did likewise, well of course she did for she was proving to be an extraordinary step-mother and at the request of the children, she would shortly be adopting them as well as Flora.

  The boys were also thriving. We have two nannies in the house, Justine who looks after Flora and helps out with the boys as well as Chloe, Victoria's first choice of nanny. They both 'live in’ and it's a seriously busy house. Six children take an inordinate amount of time and I had been pleased to be in a position that I could stay at home and help out. But now as the Easter holidays were drawing to a close the children would return to school and I had to return to work.

  "You haven't forgotten that my parents are coming for the weekend?"

  "No Billy seeing I invited them I haven't forgotten, anyway you promised me a schedule of your trips for Poppy and you haven't delivered it so where is it?"

  "I need to talk to you about that?"

  "I bet you do, but just before you do, let me tell you what I think?"

  "Alright."

  "What I think, is that the UN are bloody lucky to have you and that they should be doing more to look after you and to ensure that you stay in one piece and that doesn't include entering war-zones. What I want you to do Billy is incentivise the countries. If there's a war or lots of terrorist activity, then they get no assistance."

  "But you can't disenfranchise a whole nation because some of their neighbours are stupid."

  "But you can, The World Bank does it and so do lots of UN organisations but not the one you're President of. What you do is focus on the self-help nations, the people that try and succeed in living harmoniously with each other and they lead by example. They get the assistance and the aid because they use it for the betterment of the indigenous people and not skimming it off and salting it way in Switzerland or the Cayman Islands or any other dodgy tax haven. You go to Niger, Mali, Libya, Chad, I can go on Billy and all you'll succeed in doing is getting yourself shot or kidnapped. I rarely stamp my feet...why are you la
ughing?"

  "No you don't stamp your feet, there just happens to be a hole where you've been standing!"

  "Stop exaggerating, I'm not that bad, you make me sound like a harridan!"

  "You make my Mother look and sound like a puppy. I should have had you with me when I was in Niger they wouldn't have dared ambush us."

  "But my point is, you can't sort out Libya, you can't sort out Mali, you can't sort out Niger, but what you can do is concentrate on the stable countries, pour the resources into those, help those people out of extreme poverty, educate them and get them, by their actions and your targeting, moving forward."

  "But will it work?"

  "What you're doing at present isn't so why not give it a go?"

  It was something to consider.

  "On another matter, the trial starts next week."

  "I know it does. I don't want to remember what happened Billy just the thought scares me and now...it'll all be there again, just when people have forgotten it'll be there in everyone's face."

  "We have to go through it and then perhaps we can leave it behind."

  "It'll never go away Billy. Every time I look at you I see your head with the plate and your leg with the terrible scar..."

  "Don't upset yourself, it has to be done and we'll survive the trial the same way that we survived the attack. I'll be with you, as you'll be with me and together we'll come through it."

  "So which of the darlings will become Lord Brompton?"

  "Richard was the first born and so the title will pass to him on Danny's death."

  My Mother scowled at me. "I do realise how titles get passed on you don't need to elaborate."

  "Is everything alright Mum?"

  She opened the handbag that was always at her side and removed a handkerchief. Taking her glasses off and polishing the lenses. Dad looked...pained and Victoria was about to go into full-blown panic mode.

  "We saw the fourth film last night, the one entitled 'Spring' that the BBC did about the two of you..."

  "It's okay Mum it wasn't that bad I thought Victoria looked a bit gloomy but..."

  "Stop making jokes, it's not a joking matter. You can't go on Mark putting yourself at risk only cats have multiple lives and I'm not going to bury one of my children."

  Victoria got up and went and sat with my Mother on the sofa, taking her hand.

  "I've been saying exactly the same Margaret, things have to change and things will change won't they Mark?"

  "When I took the job I wanted to change the World? I've come to realise that I can't do that, no one can, some parts of the World, well they need more, much more than Mark Stanley riding in to help out. I know I'm fallible and that doesn't sit well. I've always been able to succeed at everything that I've ever done but in this job... well I'm facing up to the unpalatable prospect of failure."

  "Poppycock! Have you seen the film?"

  "No, not yet."

  "Well I suggest you do before you come out with such a ridiculous comment! Your Father and I sat in wonderment at the pair of you. Not just the way that you conduct yourselves, that's down to breeding and good parenting, obviously, but it's the ways that you both have. The way that you care for each other, the way that you care for the children, all of them, especially little Flora, the way that you’re so...even-handed, even with the despots that you have to deal with. They were only saying last night that in three months you've managed to increase the amount coming into the fund by almost fifty percent. But you can't for the sake of Victoria and this magnificent brood of children that you have, put your life needlessly at risk, you just can't Mark, promise me you won't?"

  Three sets of eyes were fixed on me, but even now when there was good reason too, I can't lie. "I can't make the promise that you want. What I will promise is that I will take more heed of Tom and Coombes and of course Victoria. Victoria has some ideas for going forward which I'm going to explore and that's a promise I can and will make. The next few months are going to be busy, with lots of normal things and the danger will be much diminished and that's why I can't make the promise. If a situation arose like the Christmas before last then I would make the same choices now that I did then. I don't have a death wish, far from it what I have is a desire to be with you and my family for many years to come but I will never let anybody harm any of you so long as there is breath in my body."

  Monday was the start of the trial, there had been legal arguments for the last two weeks, but those had been dealt with and Counsel had made their opening remarks on Friday. The Prosecution evidence was due to take two weeks and then it would be the defence, no one could quite believe that he was pleading not guilty, after all he was observed on CCTV footage firing the gun from which the bullet hit my skull, what was there to deny? Security was very tight, as it is always is with Courts and Government buildings and this had been supplemented for our arrival. My parents were with us as they were required to give evidence, probably today and we both wanted to be here to support them. We wouldn't be called until later in the proceedings as it was deemed that my evidence in particular, being the one that was shot, would be the most damming, on top of which I could identify the guy that fired at me.

  We had flown up and then driven across to the Old Bailey escorted by Police outriders. Now we were sitting in an anteroom with my parents waiting for them to be called, we had been told that it could be a couple of hours but in fact we waited less than half an hour before a Court Usher came in and took firstly my Mother and then an hour or so later my Father. We obviously couldn't go into the Court until we had given evidence and so we relied on my Mother to tell us her observations.

  "Well you go into the witness box..." I instantly regretted asking for my Mother would be absolutely precise in her retelling of her moment in the Sun.

  "...It was a chilling sight seeing him, you know in the flesh? There's something about film, it doesn't let you see the person. He never looked at me, sat in the dock, smiling and looking at the floor, the spectators, the Judge, anybody but me."

  My Father returned and looked worn out. He'd been cross-examined and had been told he would be, but he had been asked how he knew it was gunfire?

  "Because I've shot vermin for sixty years and if I had a gun today I'd shoot that vermin too!"

  For which he had been admonished by the Judge, which had made him very annoyed.

  "I was only telling the truth Your Honour!"

  As a reward, we were taking them to 'The Ivy' for lunch, my parent’s favourite London restaurant. We were greeted with great joy. It's somewhere both of us have eaten for many years, me more often than Victoria and no not just because I'm older. It was fair to say that we were fêted, which I suspected I would be chided for but for once my Mother surprised me thank God Victoria was with me.

  "It's like dining with Royalty isn't Gerry? All of these people fawning around us. It's when we come out with you two and see the way that you smile and are gracious, it's most rewarding for parents."

  Victoria giggled. "My parents will be delighted Margaret that you approve of their parenting skills I only hope that we shall be able to carry on the high standard that you and Gerry have set for us."

  It was the first time, since the twin’s birth, that Victoria and I had been out. The meal was really good fun, we ate well and drank some fine wine, but the conversation was just a delight and the interaction between my Mother and Father had Victoria laughing more than anytime recently but what a shame Batman & Robin were arriving in a couple of weeks.

  To some, not least Felicity, it may appear that I'm rarely working at the day job, but even Felicity was aware that the work gets done, whether from Surrey or South Africa, thanks to the internet. So there was no guilt, I was very aware of what was going on and I was kept up to date by a weekly report that Charles forwarded to me on both companies. I also get the same report but purely financial from the respective accountants and so there were no surprises when I arrived on Tuesday morning.

  "Ah, my Master returns.
"

  "If you were a slave you would have been sold long ago and replaced by someone who could hold their tongue!"

  "But then you wouldn't have the sparkling repartee."

  "I don't mind Ludo."

  "We've all been glued to the box for the last four Friday nights, with the exploits of the Stanley's and primarily the swashbuckling, very debonair Mark Stanley. Is it safe to be in your presence or am I likely to be shot?"

  "Don't tempt me Felicity."

  "In all seriousness, that jolly to Niger looked terrifying. That guy you met was really horrible."

  "And that's just what the BBC was allowed to film. You should have heard what he said off camera, horrible is a good word to use about him."

  "Where to next?"

  "Depends on the trial, but assuming that I'm released after giving evidence and providing Victoria lets me slip my leash, I'll be in New York for a week and then off to the Far East for two weeks but I'll be back in the UK before I go onto the second leg but only for a catch-up with Victoria and the children, I doubt that I'll come in to the office."

  "How long can you keep this up for?"

  "Another few months and then I'll move over for my replacement, whoever that might be, hopefully leaving the right sort of legacy behind."

  "There's no doubt you will Mark, none whatsoever."

  The intervening days went very quickly and then Victoria was called to give evidence. It wasn't particularly difficult, all she had to say is what she saw and there were very few questions as she had been bundled through the front door by Simon. The Burns had already given evidence and now I was summoned.

  I had been given some pointers about how best to present myself and my position, so far as the barrister, Lord James Crane-Wallace QC. He wanted to ensure that there was no wriggle room.

  I sat back in the room that I had occupied with my parents, ten days ago and with Victoria only yesterday. She was already seated in Court and awaiting my appearance. Each day had been reported and it had stepped up a gear yesterday with Victoria's appointment. At barely ten minutes past the appointed hour the Court Usher appeared and held the door for me and I followed him out and into the Court, down the aisle, passing Victoria who gave me a big smile and then into the Witness Box. As I waited, I looked around Number One Court. Large, imposing and heaving with spectators, the Press hounds had taken all of their allocated seating and had spilled over into the Public Gallery which was upstairs, similar to a theatre; there really wasn't a spare seat anywhere. The defendant sat in a fortified glazed room with three Police officers for company. My parents and Victoria had remarked on his lack of eye-contact, but as I waited his eyes never left me, not for a moment. I looked across at him, re-familiarising myself with the man who had tried to kill me. Even now, almost eighteen months after the attack, his face was still etched in my memory. The intervening period hadn't been kind to him for he looked haggard and even thinner than before. His hair was short but the beard was long, much longer than it had been. He sneered across as our eyes met and I averted my gaze, even now in the confines of the Court I didn't trust myself not to try and finish the job.