Page 140 of The Unlikely Pair
I want to talk to him. I want to tell him about the walk I took in the woods of the estate yesterday, how I spotted a single, solitary deer appearing like magic on the edge of the clearing, only to melt back into the forest.
I want to talk to him about how I can’t look at a squirrel now without wrinkling my nose, knowing the tough, gamy meat that lies under their cute fur.
I shake my head, trying to focus on the conversation at hand. As much as I’d like to lose myself in thoughts of Toby, I have a responsibility to my party and constituents.
“So, what’s our next move?” I ask.
Amanda frowns. “I’m afraid there is no time for a gentle re-entry. We’ve got less than six months to the election. Rupert did a good job keeping things moving on the candidate selection front while you were away.”
Rupert, who has been uncharacteristically quiet so far in this meeting, smirks as Amanda hands me a list.
I scan down it, stopping when I see a particular name.
Unease flickers as I glance up at Amanda and Rupert. “Grantham? The fundamentalist Christian? Didn’t he have a troubling record on climate change and social issues?”
Amanda nods, her expression unreadable. “I know he’s a bit of a firebrand, but he was by far the frontrunner within his constituency.”
“Are you confident we can keep his extremist views in check?”
“He’s been informed that we expect him to toe the party line. And, Harry, I understand your reservations. But the reality is, we’re in a tough fight. The polls are extremely close. We have to make some difficult choices if we want to win. And right now, David Grantham is one of those choices.”
I lean back in my chair, weariness washing over me. Everything in politics is a calculated risk. I know that.
But I can’t help the protest that falls from my lips. “I just worry that by embracing candidates like Grantham, we’re losing sight of what we stand for as a party. We should be focusing on policies, not pandering to populism.”
Rupert snickers. “Come now, Harry, don’t tell me you went all soft out there in the wilderness.”
Amanda fixes me with a stern look. “Harry, you know as well as I do that at this stage in the campaign, it’s about winning seats, and Grantham has a certain…appeal to a particular segment of the electorate. We need to do whatever it takes to secure a Conservative victory.”
I nod reluctantly. This is the game we play, I know that. It’s not always pretty, but it’s the reality of politics.
I was born into a Conservative family. It always felt like my destiny to follow my father and grandfather into politics. I truly believe the Tory party under me will do a better job at managing the country than the current government. So, I agree with Amanda. We have to do whatever it takes to get the job done.
As the meeting continues, my mind drifts back to Toby. Everything seemed so simple and clear in the wilderness with him. All we had to do was find food and shelter, stay alive. But back here, in the world of politics and power, nothing is ever black and white.
Kimberly’s voice brings me back to the present. “The media is frothing at the mouth for an interview with you, but we thought we’d give you until next week to whip them into even more ofa frenzy. But I think this week we should release some carefully staged long-range pictures of you and Prunella wandering the estate. Then, next week, we’ll arrange a sit-down interview with the BBC. We want to paint a picture of resilience, of a leader who can overcome any obstacle and come out stronger on the other side.
“There’s been some discussion with the government communication team about doing a joint interview with Toby Webley, but we feel you and Prunella together are better optics.”
My heart skips a beat at the mention of Toby’s name. I try to keep my expression neutral, but I can feel blood rushing to my face.
Do I want to do a joint interview with Toby? Sit next to him and talk about our experiences in a neutral, calm way? It appears my communication team has vetoed that option anyway.
“Of course, by not doing a joint interview, it means Toby Webley will probably do an interview on his own. Yours should get more attention as the higher profile politician unless he says something truly scandalous. There’s nothing Toby Webley could say in an interview that could be used against you, is there? Nothing we should prepare for?”
You mean, like the fact we had sex with each other almost every day?
It strikes me exactly how Toby could ruin my entire career, the legacy of my family, just by confiding in one person what happened between us.
But I meant what I said.
I trust him.
I clear my throat. “No. I don’t believe there is anything you need to prepare for.”
“Are there any particular moments we can use to highlight your strengths?” Kimberly’s eyes are intent on mine. “Anymoments where you saved Toby Webley that we can spin to our advantage?”
Memories flood my mind. Lunging to grab Toby’s hand to save him from falling over the waterfall. But then Toby came up with the idea to use the dummies to get the terrorists off our trail. Rescuing him from the ravine. Him saving me from hypothermia by getting me to the cabin after I gave him my survival blanket.
