“Arden!” He was coming over.
“Not now, Errol, I’m voting,” I said, trying to look anywhere but him. Of course, Odette had directed the reporter to watch me.
“Not even sure Arden’s allowed to vote. My husband said he was an illegal immigrant who probably had to stow away in a cargo hold of a plane to get here, but that’s not true, is it, Arden … is it?”
Errol grabbed my arm. “I need to talk to you.”
I looked at Nigella for help. “Please,” he said. “Five minutes.”
“Anything you want to say, you can say it here, my love,” Roz said, eating her apple, with a glint in her eye.
He looked so desperate. I sighed. “C’mon,” I said and shook off his hand. “Nigella, if I’m not back in two minutes, please come save me.” I took Errol by the elbow and dragged him around the corner out of sight of the queue – and the journalists – into a very pretty laneway that ran around the south of the church.
Once we got there, I could see how bad Errol looked. “What happened to you?”
He stared at me. “Have you found anything else out?” he asked.
“About?”
“Suzy, you idiot!” he yelled. His face caved in. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s … our internal polling. She’s going to win. I need to know I’ve not helped elect a murderer.”
Now he had a conscience. “Where was all this concern the other night when you threatened me?”
He gripped my arm again. “Please, Arden. Do you know of anything she may have done? She’s a snake, I know. She’s going to betray the party, and no one will listen to me. They’re all so excited she’s going to snatch the seat. All the press coverage.”
I did feel genuinely sorry for him. But also, I was done with being poked and prodded. “Your only concern is that you got tricked by her,” I said. “When you hadn’t realised she’d turn on you all the moment she got elected, you were fine with her antics.” I shrugged.
“Arden!” He grabbed my other arm and dug his fingers in. “Tell me!”
“Get your fucking hands off him,” Simon said.
Oh, good. Because this day needed to get worse.
Simon stood at the end of the lane. He was as dishevelled as Errol. His face contorted in anger.
My ire rising, I shrugged off Errol’s grip. “I can fight my own battles,” I snapped at Simon. “Listen,” I said,turning back to Errol. “Suzy’s a snake. That’s on you. Deal with it and put on a clean shirt.” I left him to it.
He called my name as I walked away, but I was so very done.
“Are you okay?” Simon asked as I pushed past him. He put his hand out, but my facial expression must have warned him not to touch me, and he retracted it sharpish.
“What do you think?” I said and kept going.
Nigella had saved my place in the queue. She waved me towards her, but I couldn’t face it; Margo Cadbury-Smythe and Lady F had emerged from the church hall and were going over to greet Nigella and Roz. Katrina had joined the end of the line, and I fell in behind her.
“You look like the thunder we had last night,” she said.
“I’m beginning to agree with Odette Douglas about democracy.”
Katrina laughed. “Nearly over, deary. It’s all nearly over.”
Nigella beckoned me forward while Margo was in full flow on some topic, but I shook my head. I didn’t have the energy for patience.
My phone rang again. We were about to go in. I looked at it. Verity. She was persistent today.
I ignored it. A second later, it pinged with a message.
Verity: If you won’t answer me I’m coming to see you.
