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Back A Place to Call Home Save as PDF
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. Epilogue
  58. Author’s Note
  59. Acknowledgments
  60. More from Fay Keenan
  61. About the Author
  62. About Boldwood Books

Although it was unclear whether Cora was trying to warn him off the CF issue for his own good, or whether she did, in fact, have some other agenda, the message itself she was sending out was loud and clear. Charlie knew he was standing on a pillar in the middle of an abyss. Jump one way, keep pushing on the CF issue and Cora would make sure he never walked through those doors as a minister. Jump the other, win favour in Whitehall by leaving this issue alone and in a few years he might even have her job.

‘I understand, Minister,’ Charlie said quietly.

Standing quickly, he shook her hand, and, head spinning, tried to find his way back to his own office. This morning he’d been so excited to get back to Holly with good news; now, he didn’t know how the hell he was going to face her.

39

Under normal circumstances, Charlie enjoyed the chance to unwind on the train home to Willowbury. On a Thursday evening, when he usually made the journey, he’d have to stand until Reading, but after that he’d more often than not get a seat and the chance to go through some non-confidential bits of work. Tonight, though, was different, and not just because it was Friday. With every mile that took him closer to home, and Holly, he felt the dread, like an illness, rising inside him.

He’d left the Department of Health reeling. The choice, although Cora hadn’t put it into words, had been clear. Drop the CF issue, keep his head down and get promoted. Keep pushing it now, and get ignored for the rest of this Parliament, at least. With three and half years to go until the next general election, that was a long time in the political wilderness. The choice was his, but in reality there was no choice.

And, in the meantime, he had to look Holly in the eye and tell her his decision; be honest with her, either way. If he chose her and Harry, he’d be almost completely ineffective politically. If he chose to drop the issue, she, quite rightly, would drop him without a second thought. The argument they’d had in the car the night of the Stavenham Chamber of Commerce dinner at the Swanley Hotel came back to him. He’d told her that her small actions didn’t make a difference; that he needed the donors and the political clout to make the real decisions. How stupidly naive he’d been to say that; it was clear, now, that he wielded precisely no influence over anything.

‘Tickets from London Paddington and Reading, please!’ The cheery voice of the train manager with its West Country burr broke into his brooding.