Giles had rung Gwyneth in Cambridge every morning before going into the office, but not when he returned at night, despite her telling him to wake her, because he rarely arrived home before midnight. If he lost tonight, he would drive up to Cambridge in the morning and unburden his troubles on her. If he won, he would join her in the afternoon and share his triumph with her. Whatever the outcome, he wasn’t going to lose her.
‘Good luck, Sir Giles,’ said a passing voice that brought him back to the real world. ‘I’m sure you’ll make it.’ Giles returned his confident smile, but he wasn’t sure.
He could now see the massive bulk of City Hall looming in front of him. The two golden unicorns perched high on the roof at each end of the building grew larger with every step he took.
The volunteers who’d been chosen to assist with the count would already be in place. This was considered a great responsibility, and was usually undertaken by local councillors or senior party officials. Miss Parish would be in charge of the six Labour scrutineers, as she had been for the past four elections, and he knew she had invited Harry and Emma to join her select team.
‘I would have asked Sebastian as well,’ she had told Giles, ‘but he’s not old enough.’
‘He’ll be disappointed,’ Giles had replied.
‘Yes, he was. But I got him a pass, so he can watch everything that’s going on from the balcony.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me,’ said Miss Parish. ‘I only wish I’d had him for the whole campaign.’
Giles took a deep breath as he climbed the steps of City Hall. Whatever the outcome, he mustn’t forget to thank the many people who had supported him, whose only reward would be victory. He recalled Old Jack’s words after he’d scored a century at Lord’s: anyone can be a good winner. The sign of a great man is how you handle defeat.
25
GRIFF HASKINS WAS striding back and forth in the lobby of City Hall when he spotted Giles walking towards him. The two shook hands as if they hadn’t seen each other for weeks.
‘If I win,’ said Giles, ‘you—’
‘Don’t get sentimental on me,’ said Griff. ‘We’ve still got a job to do.’
They made their way through the swing doors into the main auditorium to find that the thousand seats that usually filled the room had been replaced by two dozen trestle tables in rows, with wooden chairs on either side of them.
Sam Wainwright, hands on hips, feet apart, stood in the middle of the stage. He blew a whistle to announce that the game had begun. Scissors appeared, seals were cut, ballot boxes were thrown open and turned upside down to allow thousands of little slips of paper, each one bearing three names, to spill out on to the tables in front of the counters.
Their first job was to sort the ballot papers into three piles before the counting could begin. One side of the table concentrated on Fisher, while the other worked on Barrington. The search for Ellsworthy’s votes took a little longer.
Giles and Griff paced nervously around the room, trying to work out from the piles of ballot papers if one side or the other had an obvious lead. After one complete circuit, it was clear to both of them that neither had. Giles appeared to be comfortably ahead if you looked at the pile of slips from the boxes collected from the Woodbine estate, but Fisher was a clear winner if you checked the ballot boxes from the Arcadia Avenue wards. Another circuit of the hall, and they were none the wiser. The only thing they could predict with any certainty was that the Liberals would end up in third place.
Giles looked up when he heard a burst of applause coming from the other side of the hall. Fisher had just entered the room with his agent and a few key supporters. Giles recognized some of them from the evening of the debate. He couldn’t help noticing that Fisher had changed into a fresh shirt and was wearing a smart double-breasted suit, already looking every inch a Member of Parliament. After chatting to one or two of the counters, he also began to move around the room, making quite sure he didn’t bump into Barrington.
Giles and Griff, along with Miss Parish, Harry and Emma, continued to walk slowly up and down the aisles, watching carefully as piles of ballot papers were stacked