First Among Equals

“I’d rather not talk about it over the phone,” said Sir Nigel ominously.

Raymond took a tube from Westminster to Temple and was in chambers fifteen minutes later. He went straight to Sir Nigel’s office, sat down in the comfortable chair in the corner of the spacious club-like room, crossed his legs, and watched Sir Nigel pace about in front of him. He was clearly determined to get something off his chest.

“Raymond, I have been asked by those in authority about you taking silk. I’ve said I think you’d make a damn good QC.” A smile came over Raymond’s face, but it was soon wiped off. “But I need an undertaking from you.”

“An undertaking?”

“Yes,” said Sir Nigel. “You must stop having this damn silly er … relationship with another member of chambers.” He rounded on Raymond and faced him.

Raymond turned scarlet but before he could speak the head of chambers continued.

“Now I want your word on it,” said Sir Nigel, “that it will end, and end immediately.”

“You have my word,” said Raymond quietly.

“I’m not a prig,” said Sir Nigel, pulling down on his waistcoat, “but if you are going to have an affair for Cod’s sake make it as far away from the office as possible and, if I may advise you, that should include the House of Commons and Leeds. There’s still a lot of the world left over and it’s full of women.

Raymond nodded his agreement: he could not fault the head of chambers’ logic.

Sir Nigel continued, obviously embarrassed. “There’s a nasty fraud case starting in Manchester next Monday. Our client has been accused of setting up a series of companies that specialize in life insurance but avoid paying out on the claims: I expect you remember all the publicity. Miss Arnold has been put on the case as a reserve junior. They tell me it could last several weeks.”

“She’ll try and get out of it,” said Raymond glumly.

“She already has, but I made it quite clear that if she felt unable to take the case on she would have to find other chambers.”

Raymond breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he said.

“Sorry about this. I know you’ve earned your silk, old boy, but I can’t have members of chambers going around with egg on their faces. Thank you for your cooperation: I can’t pretend I enjoyed that.”

“Got time for a quiet word?” asked Charles.

“You’re wasting your time, dear thing, if you imagine the disciples will change their minds at this late stage,” said Alec Pimkin. “All twelve of them will vote against the Government on Europe. That’s final.”

“I don’t want to discuss Europe this time, Alec. It’s far more serious, and on a personal level. Let’s go and have a drink on the terrace.”

Charles ordered the drinks, and the two men strolled out on to the quiet end of the terrace toward the Speaker’s house. Charles stopped as soon as he was certain there was no longer anyone within earshot.

“If it’s not Europe, what is it?” asked Pimkin, staring out at the Thames.

“What’s this I hear about you losing your seat?”

Pimkin turned pale and touched his bow tie nervously. “It’s this bloody boundary business. My constituency is swallowed up, an

d no one seems willing to interview me for a new one.”

“What’s it worth if I secure you a safe seat for the rest of your life?”

Pimkin looked suspiciously up at Charles. “Almost anything up to a pound of flesh,” he added with a false laugh.

“No, I won’t need to cut that deep.”

The color returned to Pimkin’s cheeks. “Whatever it is, you can rely on me, old fellow.”

“Can you deliver the disciples?” said Charles.

Pimkin turned pale again.

“Not on the small votes in committee,” said Charles, before Pimkin could reply. “Not on the clauses even, just on the second reading, the principle itself. Standing by the party in their hour of need, no desire to cause an unnecessary general election, all that stuff—you fill in the details for the disciples. I know you can convince them, Alec.”