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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

‘Again, Tom, I know that, and I’m sorry.’ Charlie rubbed a hand over his eyes. ‘The question is, how do I get myself back out of it?’

Tom slumped back down into the office chair. The man looked exhausted, and Charlie appreciated, not for the first time, just how hard Tom worked behind the scenes to keep the Charlie Thorpe show on the road. The hours of preparation that went into every event obviously took its toll on him, and managing the fallout from each one, too. His majority might be safe now, but that could very swiftly change. Especially in the light of a scandal or perceived poor decision. Constituents might be forgiving of certain things, but, as a more senior Member of Parliament said to him shortly after he’d been appointed, echoing Tom’s warning, integrity was all.

‘So, what do I do?’ Charlie asked again. ‘There’s got to be a way out of this mess somehow.’

Tom glanced back up at Charlie. ‘It depends what you’re prepared to lose.’

Charlie’s heart went through the floor. On the one hand, he could keep quiet, hope Cora Mellish remembered his sacrifice and aim for promotion. It would be the first rung on a ladder that he’d aspired to for most of his twenties. It would be a challenge to brazen this all out; to move on and forget Holly and the campaign. He’d have to wash his hands of them, and focus on climbing the greasy pole to greater ministerial responsibility, in the hope that, when he got there, he’d be able to wield more influence. On the other hand, there was Holly and her family. And Harry, whose time could be limited if he didn’t get access to the life-altering CF drugs. He could throw himself wholeheartedly behind their campaign, go against the warning from Cora and put his job not just at risk, but also perhaps lose it all together. It was a politician’s worst nightmare; head versus heart. Passion versus pragmatism.

‘Honestly, Tom?’ Charlie said, shaking his head. ‘I don’t know.’

‘I can’t help you make that decision, Charlie.’ Tom spoke gruffly. Charlie knew he was a man unaccustomed to making spontaneous physical contact, so he was jolted when Tom put a hand on his shoulder. ‘But I will help you, whichever way you decide to go. Just remember that this is more than just a game. There are people’s lives at stake with every decision you and your colleagues make. The question is, how best can you do your part to help them? And that’s up to you to decide.’

As Charlie left the office that night, he knew he had a lot of thinking to do, and not a lot of time to do it in. Never more had he ached for Holly.

45