Charlie’s head started to spin, and it wasn’t just the whisky. ‘Even after that interview?’
‘Charlie,’ Cora said, looking him straight in the eye. ‘This is the twenty-first century. What matters is how you connect with people on a personal level, and how you conduct yourself on social media. After you asked that question, you, and the CF issue, were trending on Twitter for an hour. The public has got hold of the story, and combined with your recent girlfriend’s campaigning, it’s got a platform that a lot of other campaigners would die for.’
‘But you told me to leave it alone.’ Charlie shook his head in confusion.
‘Things might seem slow-moving and traditionalist around here, but they move faster than you think.’ Cora eyed him speculatively. ‘Perhaps I was a little hasty in warning you off the issue.’
‘How do I know we won’t be having a different conversation in another week’s time?’ Charlie said. ‘I’m not sure I can keep up with the speed of change in this place.’
‘Well, you’d better learn,’ Cora said firmly, finishing her drink. ‘No one wants to get left behind, especially if you’re young and ambitious. Think about it.’ She stood up and gave him a fleeting, not quite warm smile. ‘Have a good weekend, Mr Thorpe.’
‘You too, Minister,’ Charlie replied.
As she left, he shook his head. More confused than ever, Charlie took his time finishing his own drink, and then decided against having another one. It was about time he headed home, anyway.
The conversation with Cora had thrown him off balance; he was so confused. As he walked through the cooling air back to Farringdon, he felt a restlessness that was at odds with his indecision. He just didn’t know which way to jump.
Pulling out his mobile phone, on impulse he searched out a number, and then, heart pounding, waited for it to be answered.
‘Hello?’ The voice on the end of the phone sounded tired, and a long way away. ‘Who is it?’
Charlie took a deep breath. ‘It’s me, Dad. I need to ask your advice about something.’
There was silence as his father, presumably, digested what Charlie had said.
‘Been a long time since you’ve asked your father for any advice. What makes you ring me now?’
Charlie laughed hollowly. ‘I know I’ve not been the best at keeping in touch since I moved south, but I’m in a bit of a pickle, Dad.’
‘That’s putting it mildly. That on-the-hop interview was a disaster.’ His father was never one to mince his words.
‘I know.’
‘So, what are you going to do about it?’
‘That’s what I’m hoping you can tell me.’
There was a heavy sigh on the end of the line. ‘When you first told us you were going into politics, can you remember what I said to you?’
‘That line about anyone who wants to enter politics probably shouldn’t enter politics?’ Charlie said quietly.
‘Well, not that bit, but the next bit, really.’
‘Refresh my memory, Dad.’ The scent in the air, soot mixed with low cloud, suggested rain, and Charlie upped his pace a little.
‘That sooner or later you’d be faced with a political decision that you’d need to take with your head or your heart. That there would be consequences all round, and that you’d need to see the bigger picture as well as the details. Do you remember?’
Charlie’s eyes blurred as he reacted to the sudden gentleness in his father’s tone. ‘I do,’ he murmured.
‘You need to decide what’s more important, and act accordingly. There are so few conviction politicians left in this game. Are you going to be one of them? Or are you going to play at pragmatics for your career? The rewards for both could be different, but equally great, and really, son, the choice is yours.’
‘Thanks, Dad,’ Charlie said, rubbing his eyes wearily with his free hand.
‘What for?’ the old man barked, not unkindly. ‘I probably haven’t helped much. But I thought it was worth reminding you of the rules of the game. At least as I see them.’
‘You’ve helped more than you know,’ Charlie said. ‘Bye, Dad.’
‘Don’t leave it so long between calls next time,’ John Thorpe said, by way of parting. ‘And come and see your mother soon. She misses you.’
‘I will. I miss you both, too.’
Charlie pressed the end-call button and swiftly pocketed his phone before the rain started bucketing down. Turning up his jacket collar, he headed up the road to his flat. As he drew a deep breath to try to steady his thoughts, he was struck, like a bolt from the blue, of how precious every breath Harry Jamieson took was, not just to him, but to his family, who were campaigning so hard on his behalf. And in that moment, when the cool night air filled his lungs, he knew exactly what he needed to do. Checking the train times app on his phone, he looked to what time the earliest train back to Willowbury was in the morning.
47
‘Thanks for stepping in at such short notice, Chelsea,’ Holly said on Saturday morning as she checked over the things she’d packed into her backpack. She was about to go somewhere a bit unusual for a deep-vision meditation session and was feeling more than a little nervous about it. If she forgot to take anything with her now, she wouldn’t just be able to nip back into the shop and get it, so she had to make sure she had enough supplies.
Although, really, since the session was to be held in the outdoors anyway, she actually needed fewer things, she figured. A few bottles of water for after the session, her phone in case anything came up urgently at ComIncense, or with Harry, and a towel for her hair, since the mist that had been descending all morning had finally turned into rain, and that was about it.
‘No worries,’ Chelsea replied. ‘Rather you than me, up there on a day like this.’ She peered out of the front window of the shop, where she’d been adjusting the display, and wrinkled her nose. ‘I guess I’m what you might call a fair-weather meditator!’
‘You don’t know what you’re missing,’ Holly smiled. ‘There’s something immediate about deep vision in the rain. You should try it sometime.’
‘I don’t fancy trying to meditate when I’m soaked through to my underwear!’ Chelsea shuddered. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll hold the fort here while you and your mad punters do.’
‘I’ll see you a bit later,’ Holly said. ‘If anything comes up, call me.’
‘I will.’
Holly threw her backpack into the passenger seat of her car and headed towards her destination. She didn’t have time to walk there today, and the last time she had been up there the weather had been completely different and she’d had company. Shoving all thoughts of that particular company firmly out of her hopefully soon to be cleared mind, she focused on the techniques she was going to use in this deep-vision session.
In some ways, the rain amplified the thoughts and emotions, so it could be very helpful for pinpointing what might be holding her back. Although meditating in the sunshine was more physically comfortable, there was something about doing it in the rain that left you feeling cleansed.