“She wasn’t a tart,” Giles replied, as he did to everyone who made that assumption.

“If you resign, we may as well hand the seat to the Tories. The PM won’t thank you for that.”

“But if the polls are to be believed, the Tories are going to win the seat anyway.”

“We’ve defied the polls before,” said Griff. “And the Tories haven’t even selected their candidate yet.”

“Nothing is going to persuade me to change my mind,” said Giles.

“But you’re the only person who can win the seat,” said Griff as the phone on his desk rang. He picked it up. “Whoever it is, tell them to bugger off.”

“It’s the editor of the Bristol Evening News,” said his secretary.

“And the same applies to him.”

“But he says he has a piece of news you’ll want to hear immediately. It’s the lead story in tomorrow’s paper.”

“Put him on.” Griff listened for some time before he slammed the phone down. “That’s all I need.”

“So what’s the news that can’t possibly wait?”

“The Tories have announced their candidate.”

“Anyone we know?”

“Major Alex Fisher.”

Giles burst out laughing. “I can’t believe how far you’re prepared to go, Griff, just to make sure I stand.”

Chapter 20

20

“Good morning, my name is Giles Barrington, and I’m the Labour candidate for Bristol Docklands at the general election on Thursday June eighteenth. Vote Labour. Vote Barrington on June eighteenth. Good morning, my name is…”

Giles had fought seven elections in the last twenty-five years, and won all seven of them, gradually increasing his majority to 2,166. The last two had resulted in Labour governments, when the Conservatives hadn’t been expected to win Bristol Docklands, and the Liberals knew they couldn’t.

The last time Giles had called for a recount was when his opponent was Major Alex Fisher, and on that occasion Giles had won by just four votes, and only after three recounts. It had been a dirty, personal campaign from beginning to end, with Giles’s ex-wife Lady Virginia entering the fray when she came down to Bristol to support the major, who she described as “an honest and decent man.”

Now, fifteen years later, Giles was facing a rerun against the same opponent, and talk of another divorce. Gwyneth, thank heavens, had made it clear that she would not be filing papers until after the election, and although she had no intention of visiting the constituency, she would not be suggesting that anyone should vote for Fisher.

“Thank the Lord for small mercies” was all Griff Haskins had to say. He didn’t raise the subject again.