by Mike Price
Martin looked puzzled, but did not pursue the matter.
“You said you had something that you thought belonged to me is that correct?”
“Yes, I need to tell you how it came into my possession though. I am a metal detector enthusiast, one of those anoraks who hope to find hidden gold, like the man who found the Staffordshire Hoard. Well, I have been searching in Abbey Fields, thought that with all its history something might just turn up. So far, I’ve found nothing that is except for this cigarette case. Which I believe is yours; it has your monogram engraved on the front.” He took the case out of his pocket and handed it to Martin. Martin turned it over in is hands, checking that it was in fact his missing cigarette case, but he did not open it.
“Yes, that’s mine alright, thank you for returning it. It was stolen from me by a young man who had been helping with my election campaign.”
Will looked uncomfortable as he shifted in his chair.
“Look, I’ve got to tell you, when I found it, I opened the case and found this picture inside.” He took out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and passed it to Martin.
The room fell silent as Martin unfolded the paper to reveal the photograph of himself with Joe.
“I recognised your watch and tattoo when we attended your meeting, that’s why we left early. It was just the initial shock. I confess I was not sure what to do, whether to contact you or not and I just left it. I thought maybe the best thing to do was just dump it. Then my father suddenly became seriously ill and I forgot all about it. That is until a Mr Kenton came calling and threatened my wife.”
“Kenton threatened your wife? I don’t understand, I had asked him to recover the case on my behalf and to offer a reward to anyone who could help. He was not instructed to threaten anyone, please accept my sincere apologies.”
“Well, perhaps threatened is a bit strong, but she was frightened. He was supposed to call back a week ago, but I understand he was murdered in Coventry.”
“Yes, and I have been told his killer has been apprehended. An incident in a nightclub, he was just unlucky to be there.”
An atmosphere had descended on the room neither man knowing quite what to say, how to take the conversation forward. It was Martin who spoke first.
“I think perhaps I had better explain.” He was not sure why he was going to bare his soul to this man, but he felt a sort of confidence in him. He appeared to believe in the same things that Martin did and he was drawn to him. “I am married, but when I came to Kenilworth and bought this flat, to pursue my ambition to be the new MP, I met the young man in the picture and I am ashamed to say we started a relationship. I had no idea up to that point that I had any homosexual feelings, but I was taken in and really liked this boy. I foolishly took some pictures of our relationship. I did not realise at the time the boy did not feel the same, but was using me to obtain money. I realise now, how foolish I’ve been, but at the time I just thought I was helping him. It finished a few weeks ago when I found out what he was really like and I told him I never wanted to see him again. Then I got a call from him threatening to go to the papers with the picture unless I gave him ten thousand pounds. I panicked; I could afford to pay him, but was worried that he might keep coming back for more. I employed Kenton to contact the lad and pay him off if necessary, but to make sure he never came back. Well, Kenton found out that the case had been buried on Abbey Fields, but when they went together to recover it, it had gone. You know the rest.” Martin gave a deep breath as though a large weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
“Look, your private life has nothing to do with me and I am not some homophobic nut, who wants all gays locked up, but I don’t understand why you just didn’t call his bluff, after all, there are lots of gays in public life and they still have good careers, and in some cases, even their wives stick by them.”
Martin sighed, he had not intended to tell the whole story, but it was clear that this man was not totally satisfied with his explanation. He felt though, Will was sympathetic to his plight.
“It’s a little more complicated. When I first met Joe, I thought he was about nineteen. When I finished the relationship, it was because he had asked me for money to buy a motorbike for his birthday… his sixteenth birthday!”
“Christ, so you’re saying he was under age when the photo was taken?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so, only by a couple of months, but still under age and the date is on the picture. Of course, as soon as I knew, I kicked him out and told him I never wanted to see him again. So when he rang, with his blackmail threat, I was frightened. It would have ruined me.”
Will sat back in his chair trying to take it all in, wondering why this man had confessed everything to him as though he was a priest.
“May I have another drink? This is a bit of a shock, why have you told me all this?”
“Because you know about the photo and I felt I owed you an explanation, and, well, I feel you have a certain empathy… I feel I can trust you… don’t ask why, I just do.”
Will drank his whisky in two large swallows. There was no doubt he did feel sorry for this man. He had admired the things he stood for and wanted him to succeed; he was a breath of fresh air on the political scene. It would be a complete waste of talent if, because of a mistake, he was lost from public life.
“Martin, as far as I’m concerned, this is a matter between you and your conscience, I have no right to pass judgment. I support completely your political ideas and wish you well in your ambitions. In that you have my full support. I can tell you I will never speak of this again to anyone.” As he finished speaking, he reached across and snatched the picture from the table next to Martin and tore it into shreds.
Martin stared in disbelief. He could hardly speak, but managed to say “Thank you,” in a hushed voice.
Will looked at his watch. It was just after six and he knew Martin had an appointment at six thirty.
“I’d better go you have to be somewhere, don’t you?”
“Yes, yes thanks again. Can I have your address before you go? I’d like to drop you a line once the dust settles.”
Will nodded, and wrote his name and address on the pad Martin passed to him.
“Goodbye, Martin. And best of luck on Thursday.”
They shook hands and Martin watched Will walk to the lift. Only then did he let out a sigh of relief. At last, the nightmare was over.
Chapter Thirty-Six
It was the end of the road and by the close of the day; the votes would have been cast and the count under way. Martin, with Tony at his side, had spent the day touring around all the polling stations checking on the turnout. They had managed to get volunteers at all of the stations and they were able to provide some guide on the exit poll. It looked as though there would be a good turnout and Tony was feeling very confident. They had stopped in Southam for lunch and made their way back to Kenilworth in the afternoon to spend the rest of the day at campaign headquarters.
At about five, Martin slipped away to go back to his flat. On Tony’s advice, he had decided to try and rest hoping, he might manage forty winks before he returned for what would be a long night.
He made himself a cup of hot chocolate and, slipping off his shoes, went to lie down on his bed. As he lay there, he thought back over the previous months since he made the decision to fight the Election. It had been a roller coaster of emotions and he wished he could put back the clock. If only he had not gone to that bloody ‘Rainbow’, then again, if he had never come to Kenilworth in the first place. If, if. Maybe if he had taken Maddy’s advice and stuck to business then none of it would have happened. The thought of Maddy made him realise just how stupid he had been. He could have messed it all up through his madness. He resolved to take her on a long holiday once he was back in London. As thoughts of a holiday came into his mind, he drifted off to sleep.
The ringing of his phone woke him with a start.
“Martin, its Tony, where are you?”
&
nbsp; “Sorry, Tony, I fell asleep, you’ve just woken me. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
He switched the phone off, quickly showered and dressed, and was back at the office within twenty minutes of the call.
The next two hours seemed to drag by until ten o’clock, the close of the polls, it was now a matter of waiting until the votes had all been collected and counted. They had been told that the declaration would be about two a.m. so there were four hours of nail biting to go.
At one o’clock, they made their way to the town hall for the closing stages of the count and the declaration. All his rivals were there already and politely shook his hand when he walked in. He watched fascinated as the counters busied themselves at the tables with small mountains of voting papers in front of them.
The clock slowly ticked around to two o’clock, but still no sign of a declaration. Eventually, the Recording Officer called them all onto the platform to make the announcement.
"I, Geoffrey Timmings, being the Recording Officer for the constituency of Kenilworth and Southam, declare the result of the general election of 2010. The votes cast are as follows.
De Glanville Martin Anti-Sleaze 4873
Harrison James Green 568
Milton Nicholas Labour 6949
Moore John UK Independence 1214
Rock Nigel Liberal 13393
Ruskin Joe Independent 362
Wright Jeremy Conservative 25945
And I declare Jeremy Wright to be the duly elected member for Kenilworth and Southam."
Martin had a mixture of feelings, he had lost and by a long way, but he had only just been pipped to third place by the Labour candidate. Tony was vigorously shaking his hand and slapping his back. The other candidates came up to him and congratulated him. Jeremy Wright was giving his acceptance speech but he hardly heard him. He was lost in his own world, it was over, he felt totally spent. Still in a daze, he felt his hand being grabbed and looked up to see Jeremy facing him.
“I’d just like to say well done, you fought a good fight. I understand you originally applied to be the Tory candidate, well, I hope we can get you to come back into the fold, I’d certainly rather have you on our side than opposing us. Keep in touch.”
Martin was rather surprised by the compliment, who knows, he thought. In recent days, there had been a lot of talk in the papers about coalitions; maybe he might just have a rethink. It was clear, that if you wanted to win you needed one of the party machines behind you.
He was tired and just wanted to sleep, and get back home to Maddy, but he knew he had one more duty to perform.
He and Tony went back to the offices where his loyal supporters clapped him when they entered. He had laid on a few drinks for a celebration and they intended to enjoy the moment. He thanked them all for all their hard work and to their surprise handed them each an envelope with two hundred pounds in it as a bonus.
He took Tony on one side.
“Tony, you did a great job. I’d like you to have this as a reward for all you’ve done and, if you want to move to London, there’s a job for you in my organisation.”
Tony took the cheque for five hundred pounds that Martin had handed him.
“That’s very good of you, thanks and thanks for the job offer, but I want to stay in this area, so I’ll have to say no, but if you ever want an agent in the future give me a call.”
The two men shook hands, then Martin said his good byes to them all.
The cold night cut through him as he walked back to the flat for the last time. He had decided to sell up since the result had been announced.
He flopped down onto his bed mentally exhausted and fell asleep thinking about Maddy.
He slept right through until midday. There was no rush; Maddy would be at work until six. He showered and dressed and made himself some toast. Once he had finished, he wrote a note to Mrs Black saying he was selling the flat and would not need her services any more. He thanked her for all her work and enclosed a cheque for two hundred and fifty pounds by way of compensation. There was just one thing left to do. He wrote a short letter to Will, thanking him for his understanding and adding at the bottom,
“Attached is the reward that I spoke of.”
Reaching for his chequebook he wrote… D Shakespeare One thousand pounds.
That done, he phoned up The Ivy and booked a table for the evening. He packed the few clothes and toiletries he had at the flat. Checking each room to make sure he had all his personal effects, he closed the door for the last time. Once back in London, he would phone up the agents and put the flat up for sale, but there was no immediate hurry, that could be done any time.
He felt relaxed as he drove down the motorway. His political adventure was over and right now he had no intention of reviving it. All he wanted was to spend some time with Maddy.
The journey passed quickly and before he knew it he was in London. On the way back to the apartment, he called in the local florist and bought two dozen red roses. They were Maddy’s favourite flowers, so he knew she would be pleased, especially with dinner at the Ivy to follow.
There was a spring in his step as he climbed the stairs, rather than take the lift, up to the apartment. He opened the door and walked straight into the kitchen to arrange the flowers in a vase. Having filled it with water, he took it into the living room and placed it on the coffee table. It was then that he noticed an envelope addressed to him, it was in Maddy’s writing.
Strange, he thought as he slid his thumb into the flap and tore it open.
His jaw dropped open as he read the letter.
Dear Martin,
I’m so sorry but I’ve moved in with Peter. Please try and forgive me. I am very fond of you but I am in love with Peter. I will be in touch to sort things out. I promise I won’t be difficult.
Maddy
Martin burst into tears, he could not believe it.
What had he done? Why, oh God, why?
He sat in the chair still holding the letter; his whole world had collapsed around him, just when he thought he had got it back.
“What a fucking mess,” he shouted.
But there was no one to hear.
THE END