“Don’t answer it,” said Raymond. “It’s bound to be another journalist.”
“No, it’s not, it’s only Fred,” said Joyce, peeping through an opening in the curtain.
She opened the door. “Where the hell’s Raymond?” were Fred’s first words.
“Right here,” said Raymond, appearing from the kitchen holding the Sunday newspapers.
“The Prime Minister has been trying to contact you all morning.” Raymond turned round and replaced the phone on the hook, picked it up a few seconds later, and checked the tone before dialing London WHI 4433. The Prime Minister was on the line in moments. He sounded calm enough, thought Raymond.
“Have you issued any statement to the press, Ray?”
“No, I wanted to be sure you had received my letter first.”
“Good. Please don’t mention your resignation to anyone until we’ve met. Could you be at Downing Street by eight o’clock?”
“Yes, Prime Minister.”
“Remember, not a word to the press.”
Raymond heard the phone click.
Within the hour he was on his way to London, and arrived at his house in Lansdowne Road a little after seven. The phone was ringing again. He wanted to ignore the insistent burr-burr but thought it might be Downing Street.
He picked the phone up. “Hello.”
“Is that Raymond Gould?” said a voice.
“Who’s speaking?” asked Raymond.
“Walter Terry, Daily Mail.”
“I am not going to say anything,” said Raymond.
“Do you feel the Prime Minister was right to devalue?”
“I said nothing, Walter.”
“Does that mean you are going to resign?”
“Walter, nothing.”
“Is it true you have already handed in your resignation?”
Raymond hesitated.
“I thought so,” said Terry.
“I said nothing,” spluttered Raymond and slammed down the phone—before lifting it back off the hook.
He quickly washed and changed his shirt before leaving the house. He nearly missed the note that was lying on the doormat, and he wouldn’t have stopped to open it had the envelope not been embossed with large black letters across the left-hand corner—“Prime Minister.” Raymond ripped it open. The handwritten note from a secretary asked him on his arrival to come by the rear entrance of Downing Street and not the front door. A small map was enclosed. Raymond was becoming weary of the whole exercise.
Two more journalists were waiting by the gate and followed him to his car.
“Have you resigned, Minister?” asked the first.
“No comment.”
“Are you on your way to see the Prime Minister?”