HOUSE OF CARDS
Michael Dobbs has spent many years at the most senior levels of British politics, advising Mrs Thatcher, Cecil Parkinson and many other leading politicians. He worked as a journalist in the United States throughout the Watergate crisis, and after returning to London in 1975 played major roles in the general elections of 1979 and 1983, and was Chief of Staff at Conservative Party headquarters during the 1987 elections. He has a doctorate in defence studies. He is currently Deputy Chairman of Saatchi & Saatchi and lives in London with his wife and young son.
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'Pace and readability ... a well-written and well-constructed political thriller. Let's hope it is the firstof many Sunday Times
The exciting new thriller that has Westminster buzzing ... here is a political-thriller writer with a marvellous inside track knowledge of government.
House of Cards is fast-moving, revelatory and brilliant. ' Daily Express
'Watergate set in Westminster ... House of Cards must not be allowed to fall into the hands of impressionable Tory backbenchers.' Daily Telegraph
'Whipping up a storm... the thinking man's Jeffrey Archer.' Today
'Michael Dobbs' first novel makes an appalling tale of skulduggery at Westminster into a tremendously exciting affair ... he weaves his story convincingly with pace and style' Newsline
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HOUSE OF CARDS
FONTANA' Collins
MICHAEL DOBBS
First published in Great Britain by William Collins Sons & Co. Ltd 1989
A continental edition first issued in Fontana Paperbacks 1989
This edition first issued 1990
Copyright ? Michael Dobbs 1989
Printed and bound in Great Britain by William Collins Sons & Co. Ltd, Glasgow
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CONDITIONS OF SALE
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser
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Part One
THE SHUFFLE
THURSDAY 10th JUNE
It seemed scarcely a moment since she had closed her eyes, yet already the morning sun was waking her as it crept around the curtain and began to shine on her pillow. She turned over irritably, resenting the unwanted intrusion. The past few weeks had been hard, with days of poorly digested snacks washed down by nights of too little sleep, and her body ached from being stretched too tightly between her editor's deadlines.
She pulled the duvet more closely around her, for even in the glare of the early summer sun she felt a chill. It had been like that ever since she had left Yorkshire almost a year before. She had hoped she could leave the pain behind her but it cast a long, cold shadow which seemed to follow her everywhere, particularly into her bed. She shivered, and buried her face in the lumpy pillow.
She tried to be philosophical. After all, she no longer had any emotional distractions to delay or divert her, just the challenge of discovering whether she really did have what it took to become the best political correspondent in a fiercely masculine world But it was bloody difficult to be philosophical when your feet were freezing.
Still, she reflected, sex as a single girl had proved to be excellent basic training for politics - the constant danger of being seduced by a smile or a whispered confidence, the unending protestations of loyalty and devotion which covered, just for a while, the bravado, the exaggeration, the tiny deceits which grew and left behind only reproach and eventually bitterness.
And in the last few weeks she had heard more outrageous and empty promises than at any time since - well, since Yorkshire. The painful memories came flooding back and the chill in her bed closed unbearably around her.
With a sigh Mattie Storin threw back the duvet and clambered out of bed.
As the first suggestion of dusk settled across the June skies, four sets of HMI mercury oxide lamps clicked on with a dull thud, illuminating the entire building with 10,000 watts of high intensity power. The brilliant beams of light pierced deep behind the mock Georgian facade, seeking out and attacking those inside. A curtain fluttered at a third floor window as someone took a quick glance at the scene outside before retreating quickly.
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