‘I knew you’d confuse the fuck out of me.’
‘Oh, sorry, did I make your divorce uncomfortable?’
‘We can go for dual custody. We could have them half the week each.’
‘Not interested. You leave me, take your stinking children with you. I’ll be the one who lives exactly as I want, without any responsibility. You don’t get to win.’
Chapter59Law
Tuesday, 7 January
Lawrence agrees to meet me in the House of Commons, which is a rare treat. He put me off, or his PA did, until I told him it was a private matter that was potentially going to wreck his chance of being a cabinet minister. After that, I received an invitation within the hour.
When he meets me, rather than the taciturn, distant chap I’ve so disregarded at various evenings at Tor’s, I see the pompous, power-hungry politician, using his sweaty palms and smarmy words to get his way. He tours me through the halls of Westminster with many a well-worn comic anecdote and becomes a little teary at the statue of Margaret Thatcher in the Members’ Lobby.
We sit together in the corner of what looks like a bar. It’s just past midday. Lawrence sips cognac, while I have English breakfast tea. The whole feel of the place is unmistakably male and privileged, and it puts my teeth on edge.
He asks about me, which is kind, and I flatter him with well-chosen words. I praise his recent statement on the radio about the government’s position on badgers.
‘You know, these walls have seen so much, and they never tell tales,’ he says. ‘But out there in this modern Babel, anything canbe said and will be said. Our great country was built on reserve, and we need to return to some old-fashioned values.’
‘You sound so regal, Lawrence.’
‘Well, I’m the parliamentary under-secretary for rural affairs and Biosecurity.’
‘And soon will be staking your claim for a cabinet position, no doubt.’
‘I’ve always hoped for such an honour,’ he says, modestly picking his ear. ‘The Cabinet is awash with the over-promoted, or those appointed by positive bias. It needs balance, and people like me have been part of this country’s democratic process for decades.’
‘Hear, hear,’ I say, and sip my tea. ‘Rousing stuff.’
He nods, tells a sexist joke, guffaws loudly, leans forward and before I know it, his hand is on my knee.
‘I like you. I’ve always thought of you as the special one amongst Tor’s coterie. You’re... I don’t know, what is it?’ His face is so close to mine, I can almost taste the cognac.
‘Female?’ I suggest.
‘Oh, I don’t mind what you are, as long as you’re game,’ says Lawrence, and he squeezes my knee, then downs his drink. I reassure myself that it’s nothing personal, just a deeply ingrained disregard for other people’s personal space and integrity.
‘So, has Tor got herself into a muddle?’ he says, picking up a napkin and wiping his mouth.
‘A little, yes.’
‘Fucking around, is she? Excuse my French. I tell her to be careful, you know. What’s she done now?’ His face seems to freeze as he stares at me.
‘Got herself a toy boy.’
‘Well, she’s obsessed with anti-ageing products!’ Lawrence waves his jowls at me, pulls the two sides of his old-fashioned suit jacket together around his large middle, takes a sausage with his fingers and pushes it between his lips.
‘The problem is that the young man is blackmailing her,’ I say, trying to ignore the grease emerging from the crease at the side of Lawrence’s mouth.
‘The shit! Really, do these people have no morals?’
‘He secretly filmed their trysts,’ I say.
‘Oh God Tor, you silly ass!’ says Lawrence with loud laughter. ‘Is he a foreigner?’
‘He’s not.’
