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Collingridge's wearied assent was mumbled down the phone. His Chief Whip's sudden authoritativeness had stripped away piece by piece both his family pride and the dignity of his office. He had neither the will nor the capacity to argue. He looked through the leaded windows across the fields surrounding Chequers to an ancient beech wood. He tried to draw strength and confidence from the magnificent trees glowing golden in the evening sunshine of autumn. They had always been an inspiration to him, a constant reminder that all problems eventually pass, yet this evening, no matter how he tried, they left him feeling empty and hollow.
'What else do I do?'
'Nothing. Let us see precisely what the Observer says, then we shall have a better idea. In the meantime, instruct your press office to say nothing while we sort out your brother.'
Thank you, Francis. May I call you later when we see what they print? In the meantime, I would be grateful if you would contact Dr Christian. Sarah will be at my brother's home in just under two hours if she leaves right now. I'll instruct her immediately.'
Collingridge had adopted a formal tone in an attempt to stifle the tension inside him, but Urquhart could hear the emotion trembling in his voice.
'Don't worry, Henry. Everything will work out. Trust me.'
Charles Collingridge did not object when his sister-in-law let herself into the flat with the spare key. In fact, he was snoring soundly in an armchair, the clutter of an afternoon's heavy indulgence spread around him. He only began to object when Sarah had spent five frustrating minutes trying to shake him awake, and had resorted to ice wrapped in a tea towel. His objections became more vigorous when he began to understand what Sarah was saying, persuading him to 'come away for a few days', but the dialogue became totally incoherent when she began to question him about shares. She could get no sense out of him, and neither could she persuade him to move.
It took the arrival of Dr Christian and a Junior Whip almost an hour later before the situation progressed any further. An overnight bag was rapidly packed, and the three of them bundled the still-protesting brother into the back of Dr Christian's car, which was parked out of sight at the back of the building. Fortunately for them, he had lost the physical coordination to take his objections further.
Unfortunately, however, the whole matter had taken some considerable time, so that when the doctor's Granada swept out from behind the building into the High Street with Sarah and Charles in the back, the whole scene was witnessed by an ITN camera crew, the first to arrive on the scene.
The video tape of a fleeing Charles apparently hiding in the back seat of the car and accompanied by the Prime Minister's wife was played on the late evening news, together with details of the Observer's allegations. The night duty editor at ITN had phoned the managing editor to get approval to play the tape before putting it on air. He wanted his arse covered by senior management on this one. As he had explained, 'Once this gets out, there's no way the Prime Minister can argue he's not involved right up to his neck.'
SUNDAY 17th OCTOBER
The scenes of the fugitive Charles Collingridge were still being played at midday on Sunday as Weekend Watch came on the air. The programme had been thrown together in frantic haste, and there were many untidy ends. The control room reeked of sweat and tension as the programme started. It had not been rehearsed fully, much of it was being done live, and the autocue for the latter stages of the programme was still being typed as the presenter welcomed his viewers.
It had been impossible to find any Minister who would agree to appear on the programme, and one of the invited pundits had not yet arrived. A special overnight opinion poll had been commissioned through Gallup and the polling company's chief executive, Gordon Heald, was presenting the results himself. He had been kicking his computer all morning and was sitting slightly flushed under the hot lights. The computer analysis did nothing to help his sense of ease, for his polling agents had uncovered still further disenchantment with the Prime Minister.
Yes, admitted Heald, it was a significant fall. No, he acknowledged, no Prime Minister had ever won an election after being so low in the polls.
The gloomy prognostications were supported by two senior newspaper commentators and an economist forecasting turmoil in the financial markets in the days ahead, before the presenter switched his attention to Peter Bearstead. Normally the garrulous East Midlands MP would have been videotaped beforehand, but there had been no time for recording. The Honourable and diminutive Member for Leicester North was on live. He was scheduled on the director's log for only two minutes fifty seconds, but the presenter soon discovered that it was the politician whohad taken charge of proceedings.
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