‘I want to make some changes, both here and in Westminster, to really improve the lives of those in the constituency who need it the most. Hugo Fitzgerald might have been a long-serving MP, but his voting record left a lot to be desired at times. I welcome feedback from each and every one of you, and I look forward to taking Willowbury and Stavenham further into the twenty-first century. There are things to be improved, even in this leafy, wealthy part of the countryside, and I will make it my business to make it happen.’

‘What side is he meant to be on, again?’ the mayor’s husband whispered to Holly, with a twinkle in his eye.

Holly shook her head. She hadn’t expected such a blunt dismissal of Hugo Fitzgerald from Charlie, and she suddenly felt a lot less conflicted. If he really could make positive changes, if it wasn’t all just bluster and posturing, then perhaps she could give him a break, politically speaking, after all.

Charlie sat down to happy applause; the audience were prepared to be forgiving for his first official dinner it seemed. Holly wondered, though, how forgiving they’d be if Charlie did make some radical decisions.

‘Well done,’ she whispered, while the applause was still ringing around the hall.

‘Impressed?’ Charlie said, a glint in his eye.

‘Perhaps,’ Holly replied.

‘Good.’ Charlie glanced at Tom. ‘He, on the other hand, is going to bollock me for going off script.’

‘Really?’ Holly asked. ‘I would have thought he’d welcome a little independent spirit.’

‘Only so far as it doesn’t put me out of favour with the donors!’ Charlie replied. ‘And anyway, actions speak louder than words, don’t you think?’ He held her gaze for a fraction longer than necessary, and Holly felt her stomach flip with a combination of nerves and desire.

She opened her mouth to respond, but then the disco began. As a familiar tune from the early noughties came over the speakers, Holly was grateful for the distraction.

‘I can’t believe they’re starting off with this one,’ she laughed. ‘But perhaps you should show willing and start the dancing.’

‘You are joking, aren’t you?’ Charlie grimaced. ‘I haven’t been on a dance floor since… well, for a very long time, anyway.’

‘Oh, come on, stick-in-the-mud!’ Holly said, eyes glinting with amusement. ‘Don’t you remember dancing to this one at school discos?’

‘I do,’ Charlie replied. ‘And I’ve got absolutely no desire to relive that experience!’

‘Please yourself,’ Holly said. Turning to the wife of Charlie’s constituency agent, who’d come over with Tom to discuss the speech, she gestured, ‘Do you fancy it, Claudia?’

‘Oh, why not?’ Claudia said, rising from the table like a rather rotund Greek goddess, resplendent in a one-shouldered, peppermint-green sheath dress. She raised an eyebrow at her husband and Charlie, who remained resolutely seated.