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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

There was a collective intake of breath from the Willowbury pub crowd, before a boo went up from the back of the bar.

‘Below the belt,’ Mike muttered as he topped up a pint of Guinness for a regular.

Charlie took a moment to compose himself. ‘I am surprised by the Honourable Member’s point, to be honest,’ he began. ‘Given that the issue we are discussing is of such importance and any adverse news reporting is entirely peripheral. As I was saying…’ And he picked back up with the last quarter of his speech.

‘Well played,’ came a call from the back of the pub.

Holly breathed out again. As Charlie finished his speech and, at last, seated himself back on the green bench, Holly saw a tissue being thrust into her hand. It was only then she realised she was crying.

54

It was around six thirty by the time Charlie stepped off the train at Willowbury. All the way back from London, he’d been reliving the two hours of the debate, which had been the most exhilarating and terrifying two hours of his life. The sheer adrenaline rush of presenting the information, and then thinking on his feet, had kept him buzzing long after he exited the chamber, picked up his paperwork and decided, on impulse, to head back to Willowbury for the night. It would mean an early train back in the morning, but he didn’t care; he wasn’t sure he’d end up sleeping, anyway, he was so wired. And, in truth, there was only one place he wanted to be tonight, and one person he wanted to see.

As he approached the High Street, the sound of revelry from The Travellers’ Rest was drifting on the early-evening air, which was humid, although admittedly fresher than London. Drawing closer, he saw Jack Winter sitting out on one of the picnic benches in the front of the pub, who waved at him and then raised his glass with his other hand.

‘Ah,’ he said, when Charlie was in speaking distance ‘here’s the man of the hour. Well done.’

Charlie grinned, still high on adrenaline. ‘Thanks. I did my best.’

‘Virtually the whole town watched it in the pub,’ Jack continued. ‘And it seemed only right to carry on the party after you’d finished.’

Charlie glanced inside the open door of the pub and saw that the bar was still pretty packed. ‘Is, er, Holly in there?’ he asked.

Jack grinned. ‘Somewhere.’

Feeling a most unaccustomed flutter of butterflies in his stomach, which, he considered, was ridiculous after leading the Adjournment Debate today, Charlie took a deep breath and headed into the pub.