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'Who knows, Mattie. It's still much more likely to have come from a source like that. Can you imagine Lord Williams scurrying around on his hands and knees outside hotel room doors?'
He laughed loudly to show how ridiculous it was, and Mattie joined in, realising that O'Neill had just admitted he knew the manner in which the opinion poll had been handed over, and he could only have known that for one reason. His overconfidence was tightening the noose around his neck even as he laughed.
'Let me turn to another leak then, on the hospital expansion scheme. Now I am told that party headquarters was planning a major publicity drive during last summer, which had to be scrapped because of the change of plan'
'Really? Who on earth told you that?' asked O'Neill, knowing full well that it could only have been Kendrick, probably egged on by his weakness for a pretty woman. 'Never mind, I know you won't reveal your sources. But they sound exaggerated to me. The Publicity Department here is always ready to sell Government policy, and had the scheme gone ahead then certainly we would have wanted to help promote it, but we had no specific campaign in mind.'
'I was told you had to scrap a campaign which had been carefully planned and which was ready to go.'
The limp ash from his cigarette gave up its struggle to defy the laws of gravity and cascaded like an avalanche down his tie, but O'Neill ignored it. He was concentrating hard now.
'You've been misinformed. Sounds to me like someone wanting to dig up the story again and trying to show the Party in much greater confusion than it actually was. Your source sounds a bit dubious to me. Are you sure he's in a position to know all the facts, or has he got his own angle to sell?'
With a broad grin, O'Neill tried to smother Kendrick as a reliable source, and the smile which Mattie returned betrayed none of her own wonderment at his impromptu yet superbly crafted explanations. But she was asking far too many leading questions, and even a polished performer such as O'Neill was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable. He felt a gut-wrenching need for greater stimulation and support than his Gauloise could give him, no matter what Urquhart had said.
'Mattie, I'm afraid I've got a busy day, and I have to make sure we are ready to handle the result of the ballot later this evening. Could we finish it here?'
Thanks for your time, Roger. I have found it immensely helpful in clearing up a few things.'
'Any time I can help,' he said as he guided her towards the door. As they did so, they passed by the computer terminal stationed in the corner of his crowded office. She bent down to inspect it more closely.
I'm an absolute moron with these things,' she commented, turning to look straight into his flickering eyes. I'm impressed to see your Party is well ahead of the others in using new technology. Are all the terminals in this building linked through the central computer?'
'I... believe so,' he said, pressing her more firmly towards the door.
'I never knew you had such high-tech skills, Roger,' she complimented.
'Oh, I don't,' he said in a surprisingly defensive mood. 'We all get put through a training course, but I'm not even sure how to switch the wretched things on, actually. Never use it myself.' His smile had tightened, and his eyes were flickering ever more violently. He propelled Mattie through the door with some force, and bade her a hasty farewell.
At 5 p.m. the doors to the Commons Committee Room were ceremoniously shut to bar any further attempts to lodge votes in the leadership election. The gesture was an empty one, because the last of the 335 votes had been cast ten minutes earlier. Behind the doors gathered Sir Humphrey and his small team of scrutineers, happy that the day had gone smoothly in spite of the appalling start given to their preparations by Earle. A bottle of whisky did the rounds while they fortified themselves for the count. In different rooms around the Palace of Westminster, the candidates waited in various states of excitement for the summons which would tell them that the counting had finished and the result was ready to be announced.
Big Ben had struck the quarter after six before the eight candidates received the call, and at half past the hour more than 120 active supporters and interested MPs accompanied them as the Committee Room doors swung open to allow them back in. There was much good humour mixed with the tension as they filed in and stood around in loose groups, with substantial sums being wagered as Members made last-minute calculations as to the likely result and gambled their judgement against the inconclusive opinion polls which had been filling the press. Outside the room, excluded from what was technically a private party meeting, the men from the media did their own speculating and made their own odds.
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