Pearly and Esther talked some more about the development project, with a slant more overtly political and worldly without Congreve’s presence. They both knew how much any such enterprise depended on an established network of favours done, personal obligation, reciprocal support, party solidarity and expediency as well as any economic advantage that could be demonstrated. It wasn’t abuse of process, but the natural fusion of good intent and human nature. The longer Pearly was busy in the world, the more he realised the role of personal relationships in public affairs. Moral issues, economic dictates, political realities were the formal clothing of decision-making, but the unseen, decisive factor was often who got along with whom. Who were easy in each other’s company and recognised a common view of the world despite differences on specifics. Who were comfortable with the scent of another’s personality.

It was only when Esther and Pearly were preparing to leave the building that she moved to a new subject. Pearly had turned out all the lights and was waiting by the small staff door for Esther to pass through before he switched on the security system and followed. ‘I know you haven’t made any announcement about standing again yet,’ she said.

‘Not yet, no.’

‘It’s just that I’ve heard something. Maybe you know, but I thought I should pass it on anyway.’ They walked in the pale glow of a street light to the MP’s car and stood by the driver’s door. ‘Maybe you know, but anyway, a pretty reliable source told me that your deputy is going to put himself forward.’

Pearly hadn’t heard that, but he told Esther he already knew, though not from Philip Utterspan himself. He didn’t want to seem out of the loop. And it wasn’t really a surprise. As he drove home and thought about it, he accepted it as a normal path of transition; a deputy rehearsing the role and then making a challenge. Nominations didn’t close until August, and Philip would surely tell him soon. As long as that happened there would be no betrayal. Ambition was part of Pearly’s nature, and he both expected and admired it in others. He said as much to Helen, who was in bed reading when he got home. She put down her book and took off her glasses to respond. ‘Well, he should have told you before it got around,’ she said.

‘It’s still just gossip,’ said Pearly. He placed his shirt and trousers on the long stool at the end of the bed.

‘Put it out to the wash with your socks,’ Helen said, referring to his shirt.

‘I’ve only worn it for a few hours tonight.’

‘Put it out.’

Pearly always lost in these trivial domestic exchanges. He dropped the shirt into the basket.

‘If it’s true, will it make any difference to you?’ Helen asked.