First Among Equals

“I haven’t finally made up my mind,” he said sharply. “He’s given me until Monday to come to a decision.”

“You must take it, Andrew. If you don’t your political career will be finished. You can’t sit at home and mourn Robert’s death for the rest of your life.”

Andrew looked up at his father. “No goal, Dad, no goal,” he murmured and left them to go and sit with Louise in the bedroom. Her eyes were open but there was no expression on her face. Little white hairs had appeared at either side of her head that he had not noticed the week before. “Feeling any better, my darling?” he asked.

There was still no reply.

He undressed and climbed into bed beside her, holding her close, but she did not respond. She felt detached and distant. He watched his tears fall on her shoulder and run down on to the pillow. He fell asleep and woke again at three in the morning. No one had closed the curtains and the moon shone in through the windows, lighting the room. He looked at his wife. She had not moved.

Charles paced up and down the room angrily.

“Give me the figures again.”

“Nethercote has accepted a bid of £7,500,000, which works out at one pound fifty a share,” said Clive Reynolds.

Charles stopped at his desk and scribbled the figures down on a piece of paper. £90,000, leaving a shortfall of only £18,000. It wouldn’t be enough. “Damn,” he said.

“I agree,” said Reynolds, “I always thought we were premature to lose our position in the company in the first place.”

“An opinion you will not voice outside this room,” said Charles.

Clive Reynolds did not reply.

“What’s happened to Nethercote himself?” asked Charles, searching for any scrap of information he could find about Simon Kerslake.

“I’m told he’s starting up again in a smaller way. Morgan Grenfell were delighted by the deal and the manner in which he handled the company during the takeover. I must say we let it fall into their laps.”

“Can we get any stock in the new company?” asked Charles, ignoring his comment.

“I doubt it. It’s only capitalized at one million although Morgan Grenfell are giving Nethercote a large overdraft facility as part of the deal.”

“Then all that remains necessary is to see the matter is never referred to again.”

Andrew spent the weekend reading over the letters of condolence sent to him and Louise. There were over a thousand, many from people he didn’t even know. He selected a few to take into the bedroom and read to Louise; not that he was sure she could even hear him. The doctor had told him not to disturb her unless it was really necessary. After such a severe shock she was now suffering from acute depression and must be nursed slowly back to health. Louise had walked a few paces the previous day but needed to rest today, the doctor explained to him.

He sat by the side of their bed, and quietly read the letters from the Prime Minister, from a contrite Jock McPherson, from Simon Kerslake, from Raymond Gould, and from Mrs. Bloxham. There was no sign that Louise had taken in anything he had said.

“What shall I do about the PM’s offer?” he asked. “Shall I accept it?”

She made no response of any kind.

“He’s asked me to be the Minister of State for Defense, but I need to know how you would feel.” After sitting with her for a few more minutes and eliciting no response he left her to rest.

Each night he slept with her and tried to infuse her with his love, but he only felt more alone.

On the Monday morning he called his father and told him he had decided to turn down the Prime Minister’s offer. He couldn’t leave Louise alone for long periods while she was still in this state.

Andrew returned to the bedroom and sat by her side.

He said in a whisper, as if to himself, “Should I have taken the job?”

Louise gave such a slight nod that Andrew nearly missed it but her fingers were moving. He placed his hand between her fingers and palm and she squeezed gently and repeated the nod, then fell asleep.

Andrew phoned the Prime Minister.

Raymond dug deeper into the red box.

“You enjoying yourself, Carrot Top?”