The interviewers look at each other, then turn to Owen.
“So, you’re not guilty then?”
“The only thing I’m guilty of is trying to hide my past. I’m guilty for changing my name, and to that, I apologise. I lied to you, the British public.”
“You’re also launching a new political party.What was it you said, based on honesty and transparency—Not off to the best of starts is it…”
“I know it was wrong, but seeing the stories, surely you can see why. What hope would I have had?” Owen answers. There is nothing dishonest in how he is answering. He’s firm but fair.
“So, I’d like to re-introduce myself. My name is Owen King, a man who has come from nothing. I was abandoned ina cupboard of a clothes store by my mother at the age of four. I went through the foster system which is fundamentally broken, and was abused by my foster father. I was convicted of a crime that I never committed.”He pauses and looks to the interviewers.“Yes, I’m starting a new political party, why? Because this country is broken. And you, the media, the very independent BBC. You’re all part of the problem.”
The interviewer flushes, and he has them completely over the barrel.
“What would you do if you were in power?” the interviewer asks.
“What would I do? I’d change it all. The whole political system.”
“The political system that the very foundations of this country have been built on?”
“The political system that lets little boys get rehomed in abusive households. The system that allows people to block up hospital corridors because they can’t get the help they need. The political system that has people being unable to heat their house and feed their children. The political system that rapes the poor and rewards the rich. The political system that’s fuelled by corruption.”
“That’s a strong accusation,” the interviewer remarks—the interviewer who also happens to be on the payroll and received multiple back handers to ask the right questions at interviews. To not probe where other interviewers would. Who would enable whoever was being interviewed to misdirect and ignore the questions they were there to answer.
Owen looks at them, smiles, and tilts his head. “How is your bank account on the Cayman Islands?” he asks, and she hesitates for a moment. It’s there, it’s a flash, but it’s enough.
“Well, thank you so much for coming this morning,” the interviewer says, changing the subject. Owen leans back andsmiles at the other man on the sofa who’s frowning at the question, confusion wrinkling his forehead. Obviously being spoken to over the earpiece. “We will look forward to seeing what changes you bring in.”
“It’s starting right now, isn’t it?” Owen asks, looking at the second interviewer. The man looks pale, and he nods.
Small and single.
He smiles.
“Now for weather with Susanne,” the first interviewer says.
And the picture cuts to the weather.
We’re now blind and waiting for Owen to message.
55
Lucy - Present
“NickArmoryhasreplied,”Henry announces from the sofa.
I check my phone, still nothing from Owen.
I should have gone with him; we should have at least given him some fucking comms. Sodding arsehole leaving me before I could wire him up.
“Definitely him?” Roman asks.
“Yes.” Henry doesn’t give us more than that, just starts typing.
I stand, unable to sit and do nothing. This is the complete opposite to what I’m trained to do. I head out to the kitchen and fill some water from Henry’s fridge, pulling an ice chip into my mouth and crunching.
Roman is in the doorway.
Of course he is.
