|
'However, this investigation will inevitably take some time to complete, and in the meantime the spread of doubts and insinuations is doing real harm to the normal business of Government, and also to my Party. While the time and attention of the Government should be devoted to implementing the programme on which we were so recently re-elected, this is not proving possible in present circumstances.
The integrity of the office of Prime Minister has been brought into question, and it is my first duty to protect that office. Therefore, to re-establish and preserve that unquestioned integrity, I have today asked the permission of Her Majesty the Queen to relinquish the office of Prime Minister as soon as a successor can be chosen.'
There was a sharp intake of breath from somewhere around the table, but otherwise there was absolute silence throughout the room. Hearts had momentarily stopped beating.
Collingridge cleared his throat and continued.
'I have devoted my entire adult life to the pursuit of my political ideals, and it goes against every bone in my body to leave office in this fashion. I am not running away from the allegations, but rather ensuring that they may be cleared up as quickly and expeditiously as possible, and striving to bring a little peace back to my family. I believe history will show that I have made the right judgement.'
Collingridge replaced the piece of paper in his folder. 'Gentlemen, thank you,' he said curtly, and in an instant strode out of the door and was gone.
Urquhart sat at the end of the Cabinet table transfixed. As the murmuring and gasps of surprise broke out around him he would not, could not, join in. He gazed for a long time at the Prime Minister's empty chair, exulting in his own immense power.
He had done this. Alone he had destroyed the most influential man in the country, wielding might beyond the dreams of the petty men who sat with him around that table. And he knew he was the only one of them who could truly justify filling that empty seat. The others were pygmies, ants.
He was seized by the same exhilarating perspective which had gripped him forty years earlier when as a raw military recruit he had prepared to make his first parachute jump 2,500 feet above the fields of Lincolnshire. All the instruction in the world could not have prepared him for the chilling excitement as he sat in the open hatchway of a twin engine Islander, his feet dangling in the fierce slipstream, gazing down at the green and yellow landscape far below.
He was attached to a parachute which in turn was fastened to a static line and this, so the instructors had assured him, would guarantee a safe landing. But this was no matter of mere logic. It was an act of faith, of trust in one's destiny, a willingness to accept the danger if that were the only way of finding the fulfilment which every real man sought. Despite the logic of the static line, sometimes even the most courageous of men froze in the open hatchway as his faith deserted him and his self-respect was ripped away in the slipstream. Yet Urquhart had felt omnipotent, God-like, viewing His Kingdom from on high, disdaining the logic and fears which beset the ordinary mortals around him.
As he gazed now at the empty chair, he knew there was no time for doubt. He must have faith in himself and his destiny. He had launched himself and was rushing through the air until he reached that point on the very edge of discovery where he would find what Destiny had decided for him. He gave an inner smile of anticipation, while contriving outwardly to look as shocked as those around him.
Still shivering from the excitement, Urquhart walked the few yards back to the Chief Whip's office in Downing Street. He locked himself in his private room and by 10.20 a.m. he had made two phone calls.
Shortly after 10.30, Roger O'Neill called a meeting of the entire press office at party headquarters.
I'm afraid I am going to have to ask you to cancel all your lunch arrangements today. I've had the word that shortly after 'I o'clock this afternoon we are to expect a very important statement from Downing Street. It's absolutely confidential, I cannot tell you what it is about, but we have to be ready to handle it. It's a real blockbuster.'
By 11 a.m., five journalists had been contacted by various press officers in party headquarters to apologise for not being able to make lunch. All of them were sworn to secrecy and told with various shades of detail and speculation that 'something big was going on in Downing Street'.
69/134 首页 上一页 67 68 69 70 71 72 下一页 尾页
|
