Jeffrey Archer - First Among Equals

“I do hope you will feel able to join us,” said Jenkins.

Andrew had always admired Jenkins’s firm stand against the left and felt he was the one man who might break the two-party system.

“I need a little more time,” he replied.

A week later Andrew made up his mind and informed the Chief Whip that he was leaving the party and would be joining the SDP. Then he packed a bag and traveled to Glasgow.

Roy Jenkins won the seat at Glasgow Hillhead with a large enough swing to worry both main parties. By Easter, a total of twenty-nine Members of Parliament had broken away to join him, while the alliance of SDP and Liberal MPs together could muster more than forty votes on the floor of the House.

With opinion polls putting them in second place, it began to look possible that the Social Democrats might hold the balance of power after the next election. The Conservatives were now running a poor third in all the national opinion polls.

Charles heard nothing for three weeks about the missing gold box and was beginning to despair when the inspector phoned to say that the family heirloom had been found.

“Excellent news,” said Charles. “Are you able to bring the box round to Eaton Square?”

“It’s not quite as simple as that, sir,” said the policeman.

“What do you mean?”

“I would prefer not to discuss the matter over the phone. May I come and see you, sir?”

“By all means,” said Charles, slightly mystified.

He waited impatiently for the inspector to arrive, although the policeman was at the front door barely ten minutes later. His first question took Charles by surprise.

“Are we alone, sir?”

“Yes,” said Charles. “My wife and son are away visiting my mother-in-law in Wales. You say you’ve found the gold box,” he continued, impatient to hear the inspector’s news.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well done, Inspector. I shall speak to the Commissioner personally,” he added, guiding the officer toward the drawing room.

“I’m afraid there’s a complication, sir.”

“How can there be when you’ve found the box?”

“We cannot be sure there was anything illegal about its disappearance in the first place.”

“What do you mean, inspector?”

“The gold case was offered to a dealer in Grafton Street for £2,500.”

“And who was doing the selling?” asked Charles impatiently.

“That’s the problem, sir. The check was made out to Amanda Seymour and the description fits your wife,” said the inspector. Charles was speechless. “And the dealer has a receipt to prove the transaction.” The inspector passed over a copy of the receipt. Charles was unable to steady his shaking hand as he recognized Amanda’s signature.

“Now, as this matter has already been referred to the Director of Public Prosecutions I thought I ought to have a word with you in private, as I am sure you would not want us to prefer charges.”

“Yes, no, of course, thank you for your consideration, Inspector,” said Charles flatly.

“Not at all, sir. The dealer has made his position clear: he would be only too happy to return the cigar box for the exact sum he paid for it. I don’t think that could be fairer.”

Charles made no comment other than to thank the inspector again before showing him out.

He returned to his study, phoned Amanda at her mother’s house, and told her to return immediately. She started to protest, but he had already hung up.

Charles remained at home until they all arrived back at Eaton Square late that night. The nanny and Harry were immediately sent upstairs.

It took Charles about five minutes to discover that only a few hundred pounds of the money was left. When his wife burst into tears he struck her across the face with such force that she fell to the ground. “If anything else goes missing from this house,” he said, “you will go with it and I will also make sure you spend a very long time in jail.” Amanda ran out of the room sobbing uncontrollably.

The next day Charles advertised for a full-time governess. He also moved his own bedroom to the top floor so that he could be close to his son. Amanda made no protest.

Once the governess had settled in Amanda quickly became bored with the child and began disappearing for long periods. Charles couldn’t be sure where she was most of the time, and didn’t care.

After Pimkin had recounted the latest state of affairs to Alexander Dalglish in well-embroidered detail Fiona remarked to her husband, “I never thought the day would come when I would feel sorry for Charles.”

On a sleepy Thursday in April 1982 Argentina attacked and occupied two small islands whose 1,800 British citizens were forced to lower the Union Jack for the first time in over a hundred years. Few members returned to their constituency that Friday and the House met unusually on a Saturday morning to debate the crisis while the nation followed every word on the radio.

The same day Mrs. Thatcher immediately dispatched a task force halfway around the globe to recapture the islands. Her fellow countrymen followed every scrap of news so intently that the London theaters found themselves empty at the height of the season.

Simon felt exhilarated to be a member of the Defense team at such an historic moment, and Elizabeth didn’t begrudge him those days when he left before she had woken and arrived home after she had fallen asleep.

Under less public scrutiny but almost equal pressure, Charles beavered away at the Treasury addressing the economic problems that had been presented. He spent day after day in the House helping to put the Government’s case. Like Simon he found he could only snatch moments to be at home but, unlike Elizabeth, his wife remained in bed until midday. When Charles did manage to slip away from the department he spent all his spare time with Harry, whose progress he followed with delighted concern.

At the time when the Union Jack was raised once again in the Falklands, the budget became an Act.

“PM to go in Nov” and “Will Maggie wait till June?” were two of the headlines Andrew read on the first day of the new Parliamentary session.

Anyone who is defending a marginal seat is always on edge as the statutory five years draws to a close, and the new SDP members all treated their seats as marginal. Andrew was no exception.

He had worked hard to prove he was worth his place in the group the leader of the Social Democrats was beginning to form in the Commons. When Roy Jenkins had announced the make-up of his Shadow team Andrew was appointed Defense spokesman and enjoyed the challenge of pitting himself against the two main parties in the Commons in the run-up to the election. But once the Falklands crisis was over he knew his real problems were not going to be in Westminster but in Edinburgh, where he spent an increasing amount of his time. Hamish Ramsey phoned to ask him if there was anything he could do to help.

“Be my chairman for the election campaign,” said Andrew simply.

Ramsey agreed without hesitation and within a fortnight four members of Andrew’s old Labour party committee had defected to join him. Support for Andrew came from the most surprising quarters, including Jock McPherson, who pledged that the Scottish Nationalists would not be contesting the Edinburgh Carlton seat as they had no desire to see Frank Boyle in Parliament. Sir Duncan Fraser kept very quiet about what the Conservatives were up to until they announced that Jamie Lomax would be their standardbearer.

“Lomax. Lomax,” repeated Andrew. “He and I were at school together,” he told his father. “He was known as Loopy Lomax. You’ve selected the biggest idiot of his generation.”

“That’s a disgraceful slur on an able man,” said Sir Duncan, trying to keep a straight face. “I can assure you it took a lot of convincing the committee to make certain Lomax was selected.”