by Mike Price
If nothing else, Will was a fair-minded person and resolved not to go to the meeting with a preconceived opinion, even though it was hard not to!
“I wonder why he has chosen Kenilworth to try and get elected,” Julie said as they got themselves ready to go to the meeting.
“From what I’ve found out, he thought he would be a shoe in for the Conservative nomination, even bought an apartment in the High Street so he could play the ‘local’ card. I think he wants to try and split the vote. Call it an act of revenge.”
“I thought you were keeping an open mind,” she teased.
The early evening was dry and warm, and as the days were lengthening, the sun still shone behind the rooftops. They arrived to find the room only half full. Clearly, this was not the normal well-oiled party machine the other candidates could rely on. Looking around, Will recognised some of the people in the audience, men he had known from the time that he had flirted with the labour party, clearly, they were here on a ‘fishing trip’ and not to support the candidate. A few more people drifted in and the low drone of chattering permeated the room as they waited for the candidate to arrive.
An earnest young man of about twenty-five walked onto the platform and coughed, to try and gain the audiences’ attention but it had little effect. He looked nervous and unused to appearing in public.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, if I could have your attention please,” he shouted the words and the room fell silent, like naughty schoolboys being admonished by the headmaster. The result even surprised the speaker and, for a second, he was lost for words. Having recovered his composure, he continued, “I am the agent for your, Independent Anti-Sleaze Candidate, who I will now ask to speak to you. May I present Martin De Glanville.”
There was some polite applause as De Glanville came to the microphone. He was a tall man; about six foot three, with dark hair flecked with silver, handsome, with a smile that played around his mouth and bright piercing blue eyes. He reminded Will of Sean Connery in the old Bond movies.
Julie squeezed Will’s arm. “He’s got my vote,” she whispered.
“Behave,” he replied out of the corner of his mouth.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, firstly, I would like to thank Tony, my agent, for that rousing introduction.” A ripple of laughter went round the room and de Glanville paused to emphasise the joke. “You will have to forgive him, he’s a little nervous. His last job was a traffic warden so he’s not used to being amongst friends.” The room duly responded again whilst poor Tony sat on the platform turning a deep shade of red.
Having got his audience on his side, De Glanville moved to outline his policy.
“I realise as one man I cannot influence the big decisions on health, police, defence or tax, but what I will promise is that I will represent Kenilworth and Southam to fight for your interests. Whoever wins this election, we all know that we are going to have to batten down the hatches for the next few years to get out of this economic mess and we will only succeed if all the country work together. Too often in the past, politicians have gone to Westminster and forgotten who put them there… Well, I can tell you… It was decent folk like you in this room tonight! Westminster has become a gravy train, with MPs thinking that they could take, take, and take. I will expose anyone who abuses the system. In the last parliament, whilst ordinary people in this country suffered under the credit crunch, hundreds of MPs were fiddling their expenses and lining their pockets at your expense. My platform is a simple one, reform of the pay and expenses of Members, and be a voice for the minority.”
He took a drink of water whilst his words sank in.
"I sometimes think that once people get elected to Westminster they forget why, they forget that they are there to represent their constituents. In this country, poll after poll indicates that a majority of the population wants to bring back the death sentence for certain categories of murder. Yet, every time there is a vote to bring back hanging, it is defeated. How often have you seen MPs being interviewed on TV after such a vote and being asked the question why did they vote against capital punishment when the vast majority want its return, and do you know what they answer?
They think they know better!
Unbelievable!
They have the audacity to say that they know better and such matters cannot be decided by the people. How arrogant is that? They forget who put them there in the first place.
I believe in Referenda and think on important issues like this the people should have the final say.
The other big issue that seems to have been quietly brushed aside in this election is Europe. All the major parties, including the Conservatives, see our future as part of Europe. Perhaps it is too late to change that now, but we are constantly being flattened by new European laws that are slowly strangling the legitimacy of the British Government, with the worst law being that on Human Rights. This seems to me, is a charter for the rights of the perpetrator, not the victim. We need to curb the gradual ceding of our powers to Brussels before it is too late."
A ripple of applause showed that he had struck a chord with his audience.
“The list goes on and on with Red Tape, and Health and Safety legislation stifling our ability to trade out of our economic difficulties. We are a nation of inventors and designers, but are being held back at every turn by petty laws and regulations that hamper true entrepreneurship. Bureaucracy must not be allowed to prevent recovery.”
A larger round of applause greeted this last statement and Will found himself warming to this man. Some of his views were perhaps a bit further right than Will felt comfortable with; but nevertheless, he had to acknowledge it was basically common sense.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is a small island, and one that has developed a wonderful multicultural pattern that enriches the lives of everybody. I, for one, endorse that feeling and am happy living in this society, but and there is a but, we cannot continually take in more and more immigrants where ever they are from or whatever colour they are, without some sort of control. People who want to come to this country must prove that they have a worth… they must put in as well as take out. I believe that a basic knowledge of the English language is a necessary prerequisite for anyone wanting to take up residence in the UK, along with the prospect of a job to go to. If we adopt this course of action, then any new immigrants will be welcome to these shores.”
Many in the audience rose as one to applaud. For the first time in his life, Will felt that a politician was saying what he was thinking and never once had De Glanville derided or criticised any of the other parties.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I have kept my speech as short as possible as I know we politicians can be boring and I did not want you all to doze off too early.” Again, polite laughter and he waited, like a good actor, milking the moment. “I would now like to open the evening to a question and answer session, so you can ask me what really concerns you, and hopefully, I will have the right answers.”
There was no doubt that he was charismatic and had the ability to make each person in the room feel as though he was addressing them solely.
“I hope you don’t mind, but it is such a warm evening, with your permission, I would like to remove my jacket before we start the next part.” Without waiting for a reply, though it would not have been negative, he took of his jacket and rolled his sleeves up. “That’s better. Now does anyone have a question?”
Will and Julie were sitting near the front to the right hand side of the hall, and had a clear view of the platform and the speaker. Will’s mouth dropped open as his gaze fell on the candidate’s bare left arm. He was wearing a gold Rolex watch and had a tattoo of a dagger partly covered by the watch! His eyes moved up to De Glanville’s head and now he noticed the flecked grey around the temples… it was the same as the picture of the naked man with the young boy. He felt Julie squeezing his hand. She had noticed the watch at the same time!
Will could not believe what he had just seen. He stared ahead not hearing an
ything, the questions and answers seemed to be in a different time zone. He felt numb.
Julie was trying to whisper something in his ear, but it did not register. She shook his arm and eventually, he turned towards her. She pointed to the door and mouthed the words, ‘Let’s go’.
They made their way outside and stood for a moment, neither speaking at first.
“It’s just unbelievable. Now what do I do?” He looked at Julie almost pleadingly, but she was just as confused as he.
Chapter Six
Martin grabbed another glass of champagne as the waitress pressed her way through the crush of people. He had been invited to the opening of a new gallery in Jermain Street which his friend Toby was opening with an exhibition of Australian aboriginal art. Toby had been a contemporary of his at Westminster and the two, although not close friends, had stayed in touch. More importantly for Toby, he wanted as many wealthy people as possible at the launch and he was hoping that some might even buy from the exhibits on show.
Martin certainly fell into that category. Since coming down from Oxford, his rise in the city had been rapid and he had earned, the not too flattering, nickname of ‘Golden Balls’, for it seemed he had the Midas touch. Martin was proud of what he had achieved, but it had not been easy, in fact, it had almost cost him a nervous breakdown with the punishing schedule he set himself. For the last ten years, he had not taken a single holiday and worked at least a sixteen-hour day often only having Sunday afternoon away from the phone or computer. In that time, his reputation as one of the leading fund managers had grown and made him a small fortune and more importantly, he had seen the credit crisis coming, making sure all his investments were well protected.
He had set himself a ten-year plan and now that stage in his life was complete. He now wanted to enjoy the fruits of his labour, but had no intention of letting go, just easing off a little. His next goal was to move into politics and he had a plan for that as well. He would need to cultivate old friends with political connections getting adopted for a constituency ahead of the next election, which was only eighteen months away.
David Cameron was riding high in the polls and, with the economy in turmoil; Gordon Brown’s star had fallen to an all-time low. It was obvious that no election would be called until the very last minute, but when that date arrived, probably spring 2010, the Tories would sweep to power and he wanted to be on the bandwagon.
Although Toby thought Martin was doing him a favour being at this soirée, it was just the sort of function that Martin wanted to be seen at.
He spotted Giles Latcham and made his way across the room to speak to him. Giles was one of Cameron’s speechwriters, but his official title was communications officer at Central Office, he was definitely someone to court.
“Giles, hi.” Martin held out his hand. “I hope you remember me, we met at Westminster, though I was in the year below you.”
Giles turned round and shook Martin’s hand.
“I’m sorry old man, but I can’t say I do.”
Martin was not easily put off.
“No matter. Look, I wondered if we might have a drink sometime, I would like your advice on something.” Martin passed him a business card. “Or perhaps dinner if you’re free?”
Giles read the card.
"Are you the guy they call ‘Golden Balls’?
Martin blushed slightly.
“I have been referred to by certain members of the press by that soubriquet.”
“Yes, okay then, dinner. I’m free this Friday, would that suit?”
“Fine by me. I’ll book a table at the Ivy, say seven thirty.”
Giles nodded his agreement, then turned back to the couple he had been talking to before Martin had interrupted.
Martin moved around the room looking to see if there were any other people that might be useful to him that he could cultivate but although he recognised a number of the guests, they were of no relevance to his latest plans.
He stopped and admired one of the paintings hanging on the white painted wall at the rear of the gallery. It was vibrant with strong colours and although he was not exactly sure what it represented, he felt strangely drawn to the picture. Toby came up behind him.
“It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”
Martin turned to face Toby.
“What is it?”
“It depicts an aboriginal villager stalking a Kangaroo and he is just about to kill the animal. I think it is really powerful. Primitive Australian art is getting really popular. It’s a good investment.”
The words ‘good investment’ resonated with Martin, but more importantly, he really liked the picture.
“How much is it?” he asked.
“Ten thousand, but you can have it for nine if you buy it now.”
Martin pulled his chequebook from his pocket, and wrote out a cheque there and then.
“You don’t waste any time do you?” a woman’s voice said
A number of the guests had gathered round whilst the transaction had taken place and Martin turned to see who the speaker was. A woman in her early thirties smiled back at him. She was about five foot eight with long dark hair and a sun-tanned complexion, large brown eyes and high cheekbones, which gave her an aristocrat look. Her figure could only be described as stunning and to Martin, she appeared to have stepped straight off the catwalk. She was by far the most attractive woman he had ever come across.
“I’m sorry I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m…” He did not finish his sentence.
“Martin De Glanville aka Golden Balls. I know, I’ve been watching you.” The smile still played around her lips, which she licked every so often as if polishing them. She was toying with him, almost goading him to ask her who she was. They stood there for a few moments, sparring in silence waiting to see who would speak first.
Graciously, he broke the silence. “And you are?” he asked.
“Madeleine Verity, but my friends call me Maddy.”
“May I call you Maddy then?” He returned her smile.
“If you invite me to see your new picture when it’s hung, then yes you certainly may.”
Martin was used to forceful women. In his line of work, some of his women competitors were far more aggressive than their male counterparts, but socially, all the women he had known had been far more reserved, Maddy was certainly different.
“Good then, next Tuesday at my flat, say seven thirty. Do you like Chinese food?” He did not wait for an answer, “I’m a dab hand at stir fry. I’ll look forward to seeing you.” He passed her his business card with his private address scribbled on the back.
“I can’t wait,” she said as she put the card into her handbag, turned and was swallowed up in the crowd.
Toby had been witness to the whole episode and had stood there, his mouth gaping open, his hand still grasping Martins cheque.
“You be careful, old son. Maddy usually gets whatever she wants and I have a feeling she wants you.”
“Well, that’s not so bad, is it Toby? She is stunning.”
“You just mind you don’t bite off more than you can chew, that’s all. Anyway, I’d better get this picture wrapped and sent round to your place for the unveiling next Tuesday.” He grinned as he said the words unveiling, as though there was some hidden meaning in them.
Martin left the gallery pleased at the turn of events. He had secured a meeting with Giles Latcham who was right at the heart of the Conservative machine and if anyone could help, it would be Giles, then there was the bonus of meeting Maddy. There was something about the woman that intrigued him and he looked forward to getting to know her better. His mind explored the possibilities of a friendship with Maddy and what advantages that might give him in his pursuit of a political career. With a spring in his step, he crossed the road and hailed a cab to take him to his favourite wine bar, which was situated only a short walk, or stagger, from his flat.
Chapter Seven
Martin sat at the bar sipping a gin and tonic
whilst constantly looking at his watch to check the time. He had arrived early, at seven fifteen, as he wanted to make sure he was there to greet his guest. By a quarter to eight, he began to get anxious, was Giles coming? He had not rung to cancel the appointment, so there was no reason to believe he was anything other than late. Martin was used to promptness and made it a point never to be late for a meeting he was attending, as it immediately put you at a disadvantage, and most of his meetings involved negotiations dealing in millions of pounds. Having the advantage was of prime importance, but this was different, this time he wanted something from Giles.
Another glance at his watch, it was now five to eight. He called the waiter and ordered a glass of water. He didn’t want to be drunk before the evening had even started!
As the glass was set down in front of him, Giles appeared by his side.
“My sincere apologies, I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
“No, no just arrived myself as matter of fact. Would you like a drink?”
Giles nodded and asked for a gin and tonic.
“What’s that you’re drinking? It’s not water, is it? Good God, are you teetotal?”
Martin gave a hollow laugh. “No, I just thought I’d start with water, I like a clean pallet before drinking wine.”
“Bit of a connoisseur, hey.”
“No, not really, just like what I like.” Martin, in fact, knew quite a bit about wine, but did not want to appear to be superior, on the contrary, he wanted Giles to feel top dog.
“Shall we go through to our table?”