‘Yes, I see. No. He, and a single guest, can book one of the bedrooms for up to four weeks, but if he wants to bring in more guests it has to be on a daily basis as part of an event, pre-booked and organised for. You must say, no but we do have our new conference facilities, the ballroom with seating up to one hundred and thirty, plus the two adjoining seminar rooms, which are both fully wired-up like the ballroom, and one of which could be used as a temporary press room, for interviews via the Internet. As long as he understands there are no permissions to use it like a radio studio. No, you must explain all this, say you’ve consulted, spoken to senior management, and you definitely don’t say it was me. He needs deniability as much as we do. Yes. Speak later.’
‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have heard all that.’
‘Well, actually, sometime in the next few weeks if you bump into your favourite columnist at the Park, you should make friends, show him the ropes, but remember the idea is he tells you stuff, not the other way around. Difficult I know given he’s the one trained to get information out of people, but…’
‘I’d be all tongue tied.’
‘Well offer him a story.’
‘I haven’t got any.’
‘Yes you have! Tell him about matey, our local celebrity chef and his seafood harbour restaurant, he’ll love that. They know all chefs are psychos who always gesture with the hand holding the knife - tell him about all the cod coming from the Baltic! Better still, tell him the seafood only tastes great because the punter is sitting on the harbour.’
‘Oh, right.’
It takes it out of you organising a campaign without appearing to do so. The cognitive load, as the neuroscientists refer to it, is just too much. I found myself thinking out loud; ‘Now, Buffy just makes a single visit, with twenty-four hours’ notice; but Carrie, armed with secret weapon, is booked in for two days door knocking with Rory in the final week, however, we don’t have to worry about accommodation because she still has the cottage behind the Dissipated Kipper. Now then, avoid the fish quay this time because the opposition will just pipe up and say it’s only there because of EU money, where can Buffy and Rory safely go? Charlie!’
‘Leave me out of it.’
‘Just a point of information, that’s all. What was the name of that website that ranked our chippy number one in the South West or whatever?’
‘Why on earth?’
‘I want to give Wooley the headline “PM learns right way to fry chips” but, you know, translated into tabloid speak. Buffy loves anything where he can roll up his sleeves.’
‘Aren’t you in grave danger of getting “Buffy’s Had His Chips”.’
‘Oh my God, are we?’
‘Well, I don’t know, but anyway, according to today’s freesheet, the overpriced ice cream tub is standing again.’
‘What! They must be mad.’
‘Even if they are, they’ll still have learnt something from the last time.’
‘Touché. Whatever we do, we mustn’t follow the same logic as before.’
‘Why are you knocking your pan out over all this?’
‘Oh, I don’t know, gives the little grey cells a thorough workout I suppose, besides this is the easy bit, next I have to convince Prudence to convince Rory that he dreamed all this up!’
‘You’re this Tony guy, right? Don Wooley, The Beacon.’
‘Are yes of course, I have a close personal friend who reads you all the time.’
‘The Valette, I’ve met her, you’re a class act, so I’m told.’
‘Well thank you.’
‘I can’t believe my proprietor has cleared your invoice for exclusive use of your dinky new conference facility for four whole weeks, plus a room for me and my partner. More palatial than Buck House itself.’
‘Well, it is somewhat older.’
‘Ha! Effortless. And still we vote for Her Madge.’
‘Well, if you could just see your way to a post-Brexit trade deal, you’re welcome to throw Charlie boy overboard. Drink?’
‘I thought you’d never ask. I’ve just been trying to get the raspberry ripple over here for an interview, he turned me down.’
‘Fascinating, I’ve been on the lookout for him or any of his lieutenants for some time, assuming they would try and infiltrate in order to have a pop at us.’
‘Perhaps he thinks if he steps across the portal, he’ll become tainted.’
‘That’s a point, instead of actually learning anything about their opposition, they’d rather remain in ignorance for fear of losing their reputation for ideological purity.’
‘I doubt they’re even conscious of where their beliefs come from mate!’
As soon as we were informed of Buffy’s second official flying visit, we decamped to the Park immediately. Early the following morning Charlie and I set-up a one-way system in the house to marshal police, government security, party HQ campaign staff, the media and the politicians themselves. She asked; ‘Will any members be allowed in today?’
‘In theory, yes.’
‘Well, I’m supposed to be leading the final wood patrol!’
‘Ah. Er, I’d try and meet them in the carpark, do it all outside. Only the PM’s security detail can actually physically bar their way. They’ll just get friendly advice from the police, it’s only if they get stroppy in reply that they may be in trouble.’
‘I might try and prime them by text.’
‘Ah, there you are Anthony. Is it me? I’ve the distinct impression I’m watching the retreat from Moscow!’
‘Oh, I see what you mean Prime Minster.’ Buffy was staring out of the window of the veranda bar, morning coffee in hand. It was a slightly mystical winter scene, the spoil from the landscaping gave it the feel of a battlefield. Crossing our vision, half in silhouette, was a handcart piled high with chopped wood - or perhaps it was bodies - pulled by four men distinctly bowed by the exertion. Behind them followed a relaxed loping female figure, casually dangling her chainsaw.
‘My God man, what’s your sergeant major been doing to them?!’
‘Give’m hell Charlie!’
‘You didn’t need to be so rough with Tufnell. I suggested something romantic, didn’t I?’
‘You did indeed. I set him off on the trail of the Lady Vic.’
‘The Herring? I thought she’d joined the art connois-sewers?’
‘She has, opened a gallery on the harbour side. Tuffy is her self-appointed goffer.’
‘Ha! Get him married off, he’s been a millstone round your neck too long.’
‘Er, thank you Prime Minister, how’s Carrie?’
‘Very optimistic about the North. She’s been bounding up and down dale with Fluffy?’
‘Who?’ I said, feigning ignorance.
‘Fluffy the Downing Street dog.’
‘What breed?’
‘Terrier of course.’
‘May one enquire why you’re skulking here and not out there pressing the flesh?’
‘Taking an hour out to give Wooley his exclusive. He’s behaving himself, is he?’
Alas I have but second-hand reports with which to recount Carrie’s visit. At around lunchtime on the first day, I was preceding down the long ground floor corridor at the Park when from behind came that voice, so reminiscent of Aunt Elisabeth; ‘Anthony! Half a tick.’
‘Prudence, how may I be of service?’
‘I’ve been side-lined by Trumpton’s live-in girlfriend and it’s all your doing.’
‘She’s here in her capacity as a professional persuader.’
‘Well, she’d better be good. She spent an hour this morning alone with Rory. He said they were just rehearsing, but she’s got this thing about her, like you and Charlotte, that disarming thing, makes one feel like it’s hopeless to resist, hypnotic or whatever.’
‘Presence, charm, charisma?’
‘Creepy more like.’
‘Oh, come on, you spend half your life coaching Rory, it’s the secret of his success.’
‘Yes, but not like that.’
‘So, you saw some of it.’
‘Well, just a bit. Rory is meant to say; “Just calling around because I thought you might like to meet the PM’s fiancé and their darling new companion Fluffy”. And then, the constituent will apparently make a joke about how Buffy and Fluffy must be a bit of a handful, to which she replies by winking at the same moment as patting her tummy!’
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