‘Never been a hardship for you,’ said Declan icily, and, picking up the application and the two tapes, he chucked them into the wastepaper basket. Bas, Freddie and Charles winced. Rupert went very still.
‘And if any of you try and retrieve them, I’ll put them in the boiler,’ added Declan.
‘All my life I’ve been accused of lacking application,’ drawled Rupert, ‘then when I actually get hold of one. .’
‘It’s not a joke,’ roared Declan.
‘I’m not laughing,’ said Rupert bleakly. ‘Fuck you, Declan, and screw your bloody franchise.’
‘Now, wite a minute,’ said Freddie, leaping to his feet.
But Rupert had walked out. In the hall he nearly sent Taggie flying. She was carrying a pile of Aertex shirts and green skirts upstairs. Caitlin was going back to school next week.
‘What on earth’s the matter?’ she said in alarm.
‘Your fucking father.’
‘What’s he done? Come into the kitchen.’
‘It’s what he won’t do.’ For a second Rupert debated whether to walk out, but he was so angry with Declan he had to tell someone, so he followed her into the kitchen.
‘I’ll get you a drink.’
‘I’m not drinking. And I’ll never touch a drop of your father’s liquor again.’
‘What’s happened?’ said Taggie, bewildered. Then, realizing the steak and kidney she was frying on the Aga was catching, ran across the kitchen to give it a stir.
‘I’ve just spent all last weekend in Madrid screwing Cameron Cook,’ said Rupert furiously, ‘to get her on our side, and to get information about Corinium’s application, and by Sunday night I not only had her eating out of my hand, but had secretly photostated the entire application.’
He was so angry, he didn’t notice that Taggie’s wooden spoon had stopped moving.
‘What’s Daddy objecting to?’ said Taggie in a strangely high voice.
‘He won’t read it. He thinks it’s taking unfair advantage. Jesus, no wonder he’s broke.’
At that moment Freddie appeared in the doorway. But, seeing Rupert was talking to Taggie, he decided she’d be better at calming him down than any of them and tiptoed back to the library.
‘Let me make you a cup of tea,’ said Taggie.
By the time the kettle had boiled and the tea had brewed for three minutes, and Rupert had told her the whole story, she’d recovered her composure. After all, Rupert was entitled to go to bed with whom he chose, and perhaps he just did it with Cameron because he wanted to get hold of the application document, she thought hopefully, although Cameron was terribly beautiful and Patrick would be absolutely heartbroken if he found out. Oh God, what a terrible muddle.
Rupert leant against the Aga, looking moodily at a huge vase of bluebells.
‘From our wood,’ said Taggie, trying to lift the conversation. ‘Aren’t they lovely?’
Rupert was about to snap that they were from his wood now.
‘Don’t try to placate me,’ he said coldly.
Taggie handed him a cup of tea. Then she took a deep breath. ‘I think Daddy’s right,’ she stammered.
Rupert looked up. ‘You what?’ he said, unbelievingly. ‘Not you, too?’
‘He wouldn’t feel right with himself. It’s like cheating in exams. To most people it wouldn’t matter, but he’s got such utter integ. .’ Taggie stumbled over the word.
‘Integrity, and I haven’t, I suppose.’
‘Of course you have, but of a different kind. If you won the franchise because he’d spied on Tony Baddingham, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.’
‘Well, he’s not living with me any longer. D’you think Tony won’t wheel out every trick in the book, once he finds out we’re bidding against him? Your father’s trying to fight a nuclear war with a pop gun.’
‘It’s because he disapproves of Lord Baddingham so much. He couldn’t descend to his level. That’s why he’s bidding against him.’
‘Not with me, he ain’t,’ said Rupert, putting down his mug. ‘I’m out.’
‘Oh please not,’ pleaded Taggie. ‘It’s so lovely for them having you as part of the consortium. You’ve got such c-c-charisma.’
‘Is that your word for the day?’ snapped Rupert.
‘No, it’s my word for always about you,’ said Taggie, blushing crimson. ‘Honestly, they think you’re marvellous.’
‘Funny way of showing it,’ said Rupert, walking towards the door.
Taggie ran after him, her eyes filling with tears.
‘Oh, please. Daddy really needs you. You and Freddie were so wonderful when he was down, I know he seems terribly clever but he’s not street bright like you.’
Gazing at her, Rupert noticed how her tears and the old grey denim shirt of Declan’s she was wearing emphasized the strange silver-grey of her eyes.
‘Darling Taggie,’ he said, his face softening, ‘how can anyone refuse you anything?’
‘Then you’ll stay?’
Rupert shrugged. ‘I suppose so. . but I’m extremely pissed off.’ He reached into his pocket and rooted out a crimson leather box. ‘I got you an Easter egg in Madrid. I hope you’ll like it better than the present I brought your father.’
Inside the box Taggie found a little gold egg, speckled with rubies and diamonds. She gave a gasp.
‘Look further,’ said Rupert.
Opening the egg, she found a tiny gold bird with ruby eyes.
‘Poor thing’s got conjuctivitis,’ said Rupert.
‘I can’t believe it,’ breathed Taggie. ‘No one brings me presents like that. Oh thank you so so much. I love it.’
Blushing furiously again, she leant forward and kissed him on the cheek. She’s the little sister I never had, Rupert told himself firmly.
‘Your steak and kidney’s burning,’ he said.
‘Are you staying for supper?’
‘No, I’ve got to go back and vote.’
‘What on?’
‘Capital punishment for terrorists.’
Taggie looked horrified.
‘They’re not going to bring it back, are they? Daddy’d leave the country.’
In the library Freddie was tearing a strip off Declan. ‘This is the big league, if you’ll excuse me saying so. Rupert’s a very clever operator, and we can’t afford to lose ’im. You’ve got to learn to argue wivout rancour, Declan. You can’t stick your chest out all the time.’
‘What do you know about it?’ growled Declan.
‘I’ve never ’ad a strike at work,’ said Freddie, ‘because I don’t judge everyone the same. I cultivate their individual skills. You’re always bangin’ on about giving creative people the right atmosphere to work in. Then, when Rupert does somefink really creative, you shit on ’im.’
Watched in awed amazement by Bas and Charles, Freddie calmly retrieved the application from the wastepaper basket.
Declan gazed at him appalled: ‘But, it’s dishonest, for fock’s sake. You wouldn’t have nicked that document, would you?’
‘Wouldn’t ’ave ’ad the nerve,’ said Freddie. ‘But now we’ve got it, I’m certainly goin’ to ’ave a little look. This is war, as Rupert said, not tiddlywinks. You don’t want to be too ’igh-minded, Declan.’
By the time Sydney his driver had dropped Rupert off at Westminster, the yellow stone of the House was softened by floodlighting and Big Ben shone like a great sugar sifter against an inky blue sky.
‘Only one vote,’ Rupert told Sydney. ‘I’m paired after that, but I’ve got a hell of a lot of work still to do. Can you come back about twelve-thirty?’
Nodding good evening to the policeman on the gate, Rupert went through the Member’s entrance, an expression that usually made him laugh. Glancing at the monitor he saw that Owen Davies, the Labour leader, was winding up for the abolitionists. Time for a large drink. . he was bloody tired, and he’d never had any doubts that stringing up was the answer for terrorists. But as he headed for the bar he thought fleetingly of Taggie’s horror of capital punishment, and Declan’s passionate disapproval, and decided to listen to the debate instead.