Lucas nods. Smiles. It’s about as genuine as a thirty pound note.
“Was there a specific reason for wanting to meet today?’ I glance at my watch. I do have other places where I need to be and a man to meet about Ben.
For a moment, I think about Ben. I’ve been trying not to, trying instead to stay focused on what’s in front of me, the small picture, but it’s hard.
Ben has taken a piece of both of us with him, and we have no gauze big enough to cover the wound.
“We need to talk about your brother.” Lucas sighs, looks concerned.
I fold my arms. This isn’t an official meeting, hence we’re here. This means my father is now really concerned that his puppet is no longer following the script.
“The Prime Minister isn’t particularly listening to me at present.” Which was true. William was fixated on Blair and seeing her again, and it worried me enough to make sure he wouldn’t be with her alone.
I didn’t trust him. I never have.
“William isn’t listening to anyone at the moment, which is concerning. He’s deeply embarrassed over Blair’s rejection of his proposal for the deal.”
I nod. On this I agree.
“What are you proposing I do?”
“Stop him from embarrassing himself. I don’t want this turning into another France.”
I manage to stop the smile this time. William had cocked up impressively when talking about the French president months ago. It had been a nightmare to tidy up but the fuck up had been enjoyable on another level.
“I’m trying.”
Lucas shakes his head.
“He’s hell bent on creating some relationship with her.”
“He wants to be a king. How do you go one better than your father who was one of the best prime ministers this country has seen?”
I differ. I think my father is a self-serving, immoral bastard, but that’s not the line to take with Lucas.
“William isn’t going to become king. Of anywhere except his own house.”
Lucas goes to the cupboard and opens it, pulling out two glasses and a bottle of Scotch. It’s too early in the morning for me, but my gut tells me I need him on side and I’d rather indulge him in this habit than the one he has with the white powder he stuffs up his nose or his interest in barely legal teenagers.
“I know. You know. Your father know it too. But William doesn’t and he’s going to do what he can to get inside Blair. Blackmail, flattery, even worse.”
“I’m not sure what I can do more than what I already am.” Which is a lie.
“Run against him.”
Every bone in my back turns to steel.
“I’m not an elected member of parliament yet.” The words surprise me. I’m not telling Lucas I’m not interested and I’m not: I won’t become another pawn for my father.
“You’ll win the by-election. The polls are in your favour and constituents like you. It’s a given.”
I know he isn’t wrong.
“They won’t elect an inexperienced MP to be prime minister.”
“You’d be surprised. Especially given the rumours.” He knocks back his whisky.
“What rumours?” I brace myself.
