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'What do you trunk, Francis?'
'Perhaps we are through the worst.'
'No, not necessarily. But at least we have a breathing space and I can tell you, I need that more than anything. The pressure.. ' He shook his head slowly. 'Well, you understand, I'm sure.'
Collingridge took a deep breath to summon up fresh resources from within. 'But it is only a breathing space, Francis.' He waved to the empty seats around the Cabinet table. 'I don't know how much firm support I still have amongst colleagues, but I have to give them something to hold on to. I can't afford to run away. I have to show I've nothing to hide, to take the initiative once again.'
'What do you intend to do?'
The Prime Minister sat quietly, beneath the towering oil painting of Robert Walpole, his longest- serving predecessor who had survived countless scandals and crises and whose magnificent portrait had inspired many leaders during times of trial. As Collingridge gazed in contemplation across St James's Park, the sun burst through the grey autumn skies, flooding the room with light. The sound of children playing rose up from the park. Life would goon.
He turned to face Urquhart. 'I have an invitation from Weekend Watch to appear this Sunday and put my own case — to restore the balance. I think I must do it - and I think I must do it damned well! They've promised no more than ten minutes on the Observer nonsense, the rest on broad policy and our ambitions for the fourth term. What do you think?'
Urquhart chose not to express any opinion. He was more than content to let Collingridge use him as a sounding board while he made up his own mind, bouncing ideas and arguments off him to see how they sounded, letting Urquhart know of every move along the way.
'At times like these, men must make up their own minds.'
'Good!' Collingridge exclaimed with a chuckle. I'm glad you think that way. Because I've already accepted.' He took a deep breath and exhaled fiercely through flared nostrils. 'The stakes are high, Francis, and I know there are no easy options. But for once I feel lucky!'
It was Urquhart's turn to gaze out through the window and think hard. As he did so, the sun disappeared once more behind the clouds, and the rain began to beat down on the pane.
Penny put the call from the Chief Whip through to O'Neill in his office. A few seconds later the door was carefully closed. Penny heard the sound of O'Neill's raised voice some minutes later, but could not decipher what he was shouting about.
When the red light on the extension phone flashed off to indicate the call was finished, there was no sound at all from O'Neill's office. Pressed forward by a mixture of curiosity and concern, she knocked gently on his door, and opened it cautiously. O'Neill was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. He looked up as he heard Penny come in, and confronted her with wild, staring eyes.
His voice croaked and his speech was disjointed.
'He ... threatened me, Pen. He said if I don't he would... tell everyone. I said I wouldn't but... I've got to alter the file...'
'What file, Roger? What have you got to do?' She had never seen him like this. 'Can I help?'
'No, Pen, you can't help. Not on this... Damned computers!' He seemed to regain a little self- control. 'Penny. I want you to forget all about it. I want you to go home. Have the rest of the day off. I'm ... going out shortly. Please, don't hang around waiting for me, go home now.'
'But, Roger, I...'
'No questions, Pen, no questions. Just leave!'
She gathered her things in tearful confusion as O'Neill slammed his door shut once again and she heard it locking from the inside.
SUNDAY 24th OCTOBER
Collingridge began to relax as the programme unfolded. He had rehearsed hard for the previous two days, and the questions were much as expected, giving him an excellent opportunity to talk with genuine vigour about the next few years. He had insisted that the questions concerning the Observer allegations be kept until the end, partly so that Weekend Watch could not renege on its promise to restrict the section to ten minutes, and partly because he wanted to be into his stride and in command before grappling with them. He hoped that after forty-five minutes of him talking about the bright future for the country the questions would look mean and irrelevant.
Sarah was smiling encouragingly from the edge of the studio as they went into the final commercial break. He gave her a thumbs-up sign as the floor manager waved his arms to let them know that they were about to go back on air.
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