his head and smiled. He would call Virginia as soon as he got home, and tell her that the small payment she’d authorized for Mitchell to discover if any of the candidates had something in their backgrounds that might embarrass the party had proved a more than worthwhile investment. Fisher now felt confident that he could humiliate Barrington, and this time it would be on the battlefield.
‘Benny, it’s Major Fisher.’
‘Always good to hear from you, major, especially as a little bird tells me that congratulations are in order.’
‘Thank you,’ said Fisher, ‘but that’s not why I’m phoning.’
‘My pen is poised, major.’
‘I want you to carry out the same transaction as before, but this time there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have a little flutter yourself.’
‘You must be very sure of yourself, major,’ said Benny. When he received no reply, he added, ‘So that’s a sell order for two hundred thousand Barrington’s shares.’
‘Confirmed,’ said Fisher. ‘But once again, the timing is vital.’
‘Just tell me when you want to place the order, major.’
‘On May the fifth, the day of Barrington’s AGM. But it’s important the transaction is settled before ten o’clock that morning.’
‘Consider it done.’ After a moment’s pause, Benny added, ‘So the whole transaction will be completed by the day of the election?’
‘That’s right.’
‘What an ideal day for killing two birds with one stone.’
GILES BARRINGTON
1955
22
IT WAS JUST after midnight when the phone rang. Giles knew there was only one person who’d dare to call him at that hour.
‘Don’t you ever go to bed, Griff?’
‘Not when the Conservative candidate resigns halfway through an election campaign,’ replied his agent.
‘What are you talking about?’ said Giles, suddenly wide awake.
‘Greg Dunnett has resigned, stating health reasons. But there has to be a lot more to it than that, since Fisher has taken his place. Try to get some sleep, as I need you in the office by seven so we can decide how to play this. Frankly, as the Americans would say, it’s a whole different ball game.’
But Giles didn’t sleep. He’d thought for some time that Fisher was up to something, and now he knew what it was. He must have planned to be the candidate from the start. Dunnett was nothing more than a sacrificial lamb.
Giles had already accepted that as he was defending a majority of only 414, and the polls were predicting that the Tories would increase their number of seats, he had a real fight on his hands. And now he was up against someone he knew was willing to send men to their graves if he thought it would help him survive. Gregory Dunnett was his latest victim.
Harry and Emma turned up at Barrington Hall the following morning. They found Giles having breakfast.
‘No more lunches or dinners for the next three weeks,’ said Giles as he buttered another piece of toast. ‘Just wearing out shoe leather on hard pavements, and shaking hands with countless constituents. And make sure you two stay out of the way. I don’t need anyone to be reminded that my sister and brother-in-law are staunch Tories.’
‘We’ll also be out there, working for a cause we believe in,’ said Emma.
‘That’s all I need.’
‘As soon as we heard Fisher was standing for the Conservatives, we decided to become fully paid-up members of the Labour Party,’ said Harry. ‘We even sent a donation to your fighting fund.’
Giles stopped eating.
‘And for the next three weeks, we intend to work night and day for you, right up to the moment the polls close, if it will help ensure Fisher doesn’t win.’
‘But,’ said Emma, ‘there are one or two conditions before we agree to ditch our long-held principles and support you.’
‘I knew there had to be a catch,’ said Giles, pouring himself a large black coffee.
‘You’ll come and live with us in the Manor House for the rest of the campaign. Otherwise, with only Griff Haskins to take care of you, you’ll end up eating fish and chips, drinking far too much beer, and sleeping on the floor of the constituency office.’
‘You’re probably right. But I warn you, I’ll never be home before midnight.’
‘That’s fine. Just make sure you don’t wake Jessica.’
‘Agreed.’ Giles stood up, a piece of toast in one hand, a newspaper in the other. ‘See you this evening.’
‘Don’t leave the table until you’ve finished eating,’ said Emma, sounding exactly like their mother.
Giles laughed. ‘Mama never had to fight an election,’ he reminded his sister.
‘She’d have made a damn good MP,’ said Harry.
‘That’s something we can all agree on,’