Page 8 of The Unlikely Pair
“It’s a shorter list than when I left, but hey, you know anyone who’s turned down a million bucks to spill your secrets to the tabloids is definitely a friend for life, right?” Callum says.
“I don’t know if all friendships are required to pass that kind of test,” I reply as I help myself to one of the cucumber sandwiches.
Callum acknowledges my comment with a smile before he continues, “It was an interesting time to be in America. The politics are so divisive at the moment.”
“They’re divisive here too,” I point out. “We just have fewer guns and more tea.”
“But our conservative movement isn’t the same as in the US,” Callum says, blowing on his tea to cool it. “Most of the policies of the UK Conservative Party would actually fit into the American Democratic views.”
Oliver rolls his eyes. “The Conservatives here love to remind us they’re the ones who legalized same-sex marriage.”
“The Conservatives also passed Turing’s Law and the Armed Forces Bill, which pardoned men with historic convictions for homosexual acts. Plus, they made it mandatory for schools to teach students about sexual orientation and gender identity. I can’t see that happening with the Republican Party in the US,” Callum says.
I blink at him for a few moments before I turn to Oliver. “How does he, an American who has only been here for a few years, know so much about the history of LGBTQ+ politics in our country?”
Oliver gives his husband an affectionate smile. “He’s one of a kind.”
Seeing Callum giving him a smile in return creates an unexpected pang of longing.
It’s an unwelcome pang. One I quickly suppress.
I don’t need pangs. They’re counterproductive. Pangs produce sentimental feelings I don’t want to indulge in.
“Besides, you can’t give the Conservative Party too much credit.” Oliver returns to our conversation. “They also had the most MPs oppose the passing of the Marriage Equality Act. There’s still a socially conservative element of the Tories that runs deep.”
“I thought you were supposed to remain politically neutral,” I tease because the fact that Oliver, a strongly opinionated politician, suddenly has to stay out of politics is one of the most entertaining things about him becoming part of the royal family.
I believed asking him to become politically neutral was like asking a lion to become a vegetarian, but to his full credit, he seems to be succeeding.
“I’m just sharing facts, not passing judgment,” he replies with a smirk.
“Anyway, enough talk about the Conservatives. I’m about to spend five days with Harry Matheson, remember?” I slump into my plush chair
“Oh yes, the Oslo conference, right?”
“I’m still trying to work out what I did in a past life to warrant such a punishment. I’m thinking I was potentially the barber who invented the mullet.”
Oliver looks at me appraisingly. “I can definitely see you as a bad-taste hairdresser.”
I put my teacup down with a clatter. “Like, I get the reason for a cross-party delegation this close to an election. There’s no point for one party to agree to something if the incoming government is going to completely overturn it. But God, why does it have to be Harry Matheson?”
“He used to be the shadow environment secretary before he became leader,” Oliver points out.
“He does seem very focused on environmental issues,” Callum says. “I had an interesting conversation with him about the potential of green hydrogen as a sustainable fuel source at the Royal Horticultural Society’s annual gala. He made some valid points.”
Both Oliver and I turn to stare at him incredulously.
“You had a conversation with Harry Matheson?” I say. “Like, voluntarily?”
“Yes. He was very articulate and well-informed.”
“He’s a cold-hearted, entitled Tory bastard who would steal from his own grandmother if it meant he could get ahead,” I say viciously. “And probably sell her dentures for a profit.”
Callum blinks at me. All right, I guess there’s more than the usual amount of venom in my voice. But Harry Matheson deserves more venom than is produced by all of the most venomous snakes and spiders in the world combined.
“Anyway, Toby, tell us how your date with Debra went.” Oliver nimbly changes the subject.
God. I’d almost prefer to keep talking about Harry Matheson.
