‘Well, you’d better learn,’ Cora said firmly, finishing her drink. ‘No one wants to get left behind, especially if you’re young and ambitious. Think about it.’ She stood up and gave him a fleeting, not quite warm smile. ‘Have a good weekend, Mr Thorpe.’

‘You too, Minister,’ Charlie replied.

As she left, he shook his head. More confused than ever, Charlie took his time finishing his own drink, and then decided against having another one. It was about time he headed home, anyway.

The conversation with Cora had thrown him off balance; he was so confused. As he walked through the cooling air back to Farringdon, he felt a restlessness that was at odds with his indecision. He just didn’t know which way to jump.

Pulling out his mobile phone, on impulse he searched out a number, and then, heart pounding, waited for it to be answered.

‘Hello?’ The voice on the end of the phone sounded tired, and a long way away. ‘Who is it?’

Charlie took a deep breath. ‘It’s me, Dad. I need to ask your advice about something.’

There was silence as his father, presumably, digested what Charlie had said.

‘Been a long time since you’ve asked your father for any advice. What makes you ring me now?’

Charlie laughed hollowly. ‘I know I’ve not been the best at keeping in touch since I moved south, but I’m in a bit of a pickle, Dad.’

‘That’s putting it mildly. That on-the-hop interview was a disaster.’ His father was never one to mince his words.

‘I know.’

‘So, what are you going to do about it?’

‘That’s what I’m hoping you can tell me.’

There was a heavy sigh on the end of the line. ‘When you first told us you were going into politics, can you remember what I said to you?’

‘That line about anyone who wants to enter politics probably shouldn’t enter politics?’ Charlie said quietly.

‘Well, not that bit, but the next bit, really.’

‘Refresh my memory, Dad.’ The scent in the air, soot mixed with low cloud, suggested rain, and Charlie upped his pace a little.

‘That sooner or later you’d be faced with a political decision that you’d need to take with your head or your heart. That there would be consequences all round, and that you’d need to see the bigger picture as well as the details. Do you remember?’

Charlie’s eyes blurred as he reacted to the sudden gentleness in his father’s tone. ‘I do,’ he murmured.

‘You need to decide what’s more important, and act accordingly. There are so few conviction politicians left in this game. Are you going to be one of them? Or are you going to play at pragmatics for your career? The rewards for both could be different, but equally great, and really, son, the choice is yours.’