“Yes. I can’t stand Raymond.”
He scowled. “In any case, carrot tops are green.”
“No comment. Try on your shirt.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
He took off his black coat and waistcoat, removed his white shirt, and eased the stud on his stiff collar, leaving a small circle above his Adam’s apple. Curly red hairs stuck up all over his chest. He quickly put on the new gift. The fabric had a pleasant soft feel about it. He started to do up the buttons, but Kate walked over and undid the top two.
“You know what? You’ve brought a whole new meaning to the word ‘uptight.’”
Raymond scowled again.
“But in the right clothes you could even pass for good looking. Now. Where shall we go to celebrate your birthday?”
“The House of Commons?” suggested Raymond.
“Good God,” said Kate. “I said celebrate, not hold a wake. What about Annabel’s?”
“I can’t afford to be seen in Annabel’s.”
“With me, you mean?”
“No, no, you silly woman, because I’m a Socialist.”
“If members of the Labour party are not allowed to indulge in a good meal then perhaps it’s time for you to change parties. In my country one only sees the Democrats in the best restaurants.”
“Oh, do be serious, Kate.”
“I intend to be. Now what have you been up to in the House lately?”
“Not a lot,” said Raymond sheepishly. “I’ve been snow
ed under in court and …”
“Precisely. It’s time you did something positive before your colleagues in Parliament forget you exist.”
“Have you anything particular in mind?” asked Raymond, folding his arms across his chest.
“As a matter of fact, I have,” said Kate. “I read in the same Sunday paper as the one in which I discovered your best-kept secret that it is proving difficult for the Labour party to repeal the Tories’ trade union legislation. It appears there are long-term legal implications which the front bench are still trying to find a way round. Why don’t you set that so-called ‘first class’ mind of yours to working out the legal niceties?”
“Not such a stupid idea.” Raymond had become used to Kate’s political sense, and when he had remarked on it she had only said, “Just another bad habit I picked up from my ex-husband.”
“Now, where do we celebrate?” she asked.
“Compromise,” said Raymond.
“I’m all ears.”
“The Dorchester.”
“If you insist,” said Kate, not sounding over-enthusiastic.
Raymond started to change his shirt.
“No, no, no, Carrot Top, people have been known to wear blue shirts at the Dorchester.”