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He had started his climb many years before as the Prime Minister's Parliamentary Private Secretary, a post in which he joked that he held more power than anyone below Chancellor. His promotion to the Cabinet had been rapid, and he had held several important portfolios, including, for the last two years under Collingridge, responsibility for the Government's extensive school reforms as Secretary of State for Education. Unlike some of his predecessors, he had managed to find common ground with the teaching profession, although some accused him of being unable to take really tough decisions and being a conciliator.
But didn't the Party in its present mood need a touch of conciliation? The infighting around Collingridge had left its scars, and the growing abrasiveness of the campaign was only rubbing salt in the wounds. In particular, Woolton's attempt to shed his diplomatic veneer and rekindle memories of his early rough and tumble North Country political style was antagonising some of the more traditional spirits in the Party. Perhaps the time was exactly right for Earle.
On Saturday, he planned a rally amongst the party faithful in his constituency to wave the flag. A brightly decked hall packed with supporters whom he could greet on first-name terms - in front of the cameras, of course - seemed an ideal location for a major pronouncement on schools ' policy. He and his officials had been working on it for some time, and with just a little hurrying forward they would have it ready for announcement on Saturday - a Government-sponsored plan offering school leavers who could not find a job not only a guaranteed place on a training course, but now the opportunity to complete that training in another Common Market country, providing practical skills and language training as well.
Earle was confident it would be well received. The speech would glow with rapture about the new horizons and job opportunities which would open up for young people, and the mortal blow he was delivering to the British businessman's traditionally apathetic approach to dealing with foreign customers in their own language.
And then the coup de grace. He had got the Common Market bureaucrats in Brussels to agree to pay for the whole thing. He could already feel the tumultuous applause washing over him, carrying him on to Downing Street.
There was a large crowd of cheering supporters outside the Essex village hall to greet him when he arrived at midday. They were waving little Union Jacks and old election posters which had been brought out to give the occasion all the atmosphere of the campaign trail. The village band struck up as he came through the doors at the rear of the hall, proceeding down the aisle shaking hands on all sides. The local mayor led him up onto the low wooden platform as the cameramen and lighting crews scurried around to find the best angle. He gazed out over the crowd, studding his eyes from the lights, waving to their applause even as the mayor tried to introduce him. He felt as if he was on the brink of the greatest personal triumph of his life.
Then he saw him. Standing in the front row, squashed between the other cheering supporters, waving and applauding with the rest of them. Simon. The one person in the world he had hoped he would never see or hear from again. He remembered how they had first met - how could he ever forget? It was in the railway carriage as Earle had been corning back from the late night rally in the North West. They had been alone, Earle had been drunk, and Simon had been very, very friendly. And handsome. As the train thundered through the night they had entered a different, dark world cut off from the bright lights and responsibilities they had just left, and Earle had discovered himself committing an act which would have made him liable to a prison sentence several years before, and which was still only legal between consenting adults in private. And a British Rail carriage twenty minutes out of Birmingham is not the most private of locations.
Earle had staggered out of the carriage at Euston, thrust two ?20 notes into Simon's hand, and spent the night at his club. He couldn't face going back to the home he shared with his ailing mother.
He hadn't seen Simon for another six months, but suddenly he had turned up in the Central Lobby of the Houses of Parliament asking the police attendants if he could see him. When the Minister arrived the youth didn't make a fuss, explaining how he had recognised Earle from the recent party political broadcast, asking for the money in a very delicate and gentle fashion. Earle had paid him some 'expenses' for his trip to London, but on Simon's second visit a few weeks later he knew there would be no respite. He had instructed Simon to wait, and had sought sanctuary in the corner of the Chamber. He spent ten minutes looking over the scene which he had grown to love so dearly, knowing that the youth outside threatened everything he had.
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