A Prisoner of Birth (65 page)

Danny wasn't sure how to reply, because however much he loathed her brother, he had no quarrel with this charming woman, who had prevented him being sent back to jail.

"I never advise friends to put money in anything," said Danny. "It's a no-win situation—if they make a profit they forget that it was you who recommended it, and if they make a loss they never stop reminding you. My only advice would be not to gamble what you can't afford, and never to risk an amount that might cause you to lose a night's sleep."

"Good advice," said Sarah. "I'm grateful."

Danny followed her into the stalls bar. As they entered the crowded room, Danny spotted Gerald Payne standing by a table, pouring a glass of champagne for Spencer Craig. He wondered if Craig had been tempted to invest any money in his Olympic site, and hoped to find out later at the opening-night party.

"Let's avoid them," said Sarah. "Spencer Craig has never been my favorite man."

"Mine neither," said Danny as they made their way toward the bar.

"Hey, Sarah, Nick! We're over here," shouted Payne, waving furiously at them. "Come and have a glass of bubbly."

Danny and Sarah reluctantly walked across to join them. "You remember Nick Moncrieff," said Payne, turning to Craig.

"Of course," said Craig. "The man who's about to make us all a fortune."

"Let's hope so," said Danny—one of his questions answered.

"We'll need all the help we can get after tonight's performance," said Payne.

"Oh, it could have been worse," said Sarah as Danny passed her a glass of champagne.

"It's shit," said Craig. "So that's one of my investments down the drain."

"You didn't put too much into it, I hope," said Danny, embarking on a fishing expedition.

"Nothing compared to what I've invested in your little enterprise," said Craig, who couldn't take his eyes off Sarah.

Payne whispered conspiratorially to Danny, "I transferred the full amount this morning. We'll be exchanging contracts sometime in the next few days."

"I'm delighted to hear it," said Danny genuinely, although the Swiss had already informed him of the transfer just before he'd left for the theater.

"By the way," added Payne, "because of my political connections, I've
managed to get a couple of tickets for Parliamentary questions next Thursday. So if you'd like to join me for the minister's statement, you'd be most welcome."

"That's kind of you, Gerald, but wouldn't you rather take Lawrence or Craig?" He still couldn't bring himself to call him Spencer.

"Larry's got a screen test that afternoon, and Spencer has an appointment with the Lord Chancellor at the other end of the building. We all know what that's about," he said, winking.

"Do we?" asked Danny.

"Oh, yes. Spencer's about to be made a QC," Payne whispered.

"Congratulations," said Danny, turning to his adversary.

"It's not official yet," said Craig, not even glancing in his direction.

"But it will be next Thursday," said Payne. "So, Nick, why don't you meet me outside the St. Stephen's entrance of the House of Commons at twelve thirty and we can listen to the minister's statement together before going off to celebrate our good fortune."

"I'll see you there," said Danny as three bells sounded. He glanced across at Sarah, who had been trapped in the corner by Craig. He would like to have rescued her, but was swept along by the crowd as it began a reverse stampede back into the theater.

Sarah returned to her seat just as the curtain rose. The second half turned out to be a slight improvement on the first, but Danny suspected not nearly enough to please the man seated in front of him.

When the curtain fell, the critic was the first out of the stalls, and Danny felt like joining him. Although the cast managed three curtain calls, Danny didn't have to stand on this occasion, as no one else bothered to. When the lights finally came up, Danny turned to Sarah and said, "If you're going to the party, why don't I give you a lift?"

"I'm not going," said Sarah. "And I suspect not many of this lot will be either."

"It's my turn to seek your advice," said Danny. "Why not?"

"The pros can always smell a flop, so they'll avoid being seen at a party where people might think they're involved in some way." She paused. "I hope you didn't invest too much."

"Not enough to lose a night's sleep," said Danny.

"I won't forget your advice," she said, linking her arm in his. "So how do you feel about taking a lonely girl out to dinner?"

Danny recalled the last time he'd taken up such an offer, and how that evening had ended. He didn't want to have to explain to another girl, and particularly not this one. "I'm sorry," he said, "but . . ."

"You're married?" asked Sarah.

"I only wish," said Danny.

"I only wish I'd met you before she did," said Sarah, unlinking her arm.

"That wouldn't have been possible," said Danny, without explanation.

"Bring her along next time," said Sarah. "I'd like to meet her. Goodnight, Nick, and thanks again for your advice." She kissed him on the cheek and drifted off to join her brother.

Danny only just stopped himself from warning her not to invest a penny in Payne's Olympic venture, but he knew that with a girl that bright it might be one risk too many.

He joined the silent throng as they disgorged themselves from the theater as quickly as they could, but he still couldn't avoid a downcast Charlie Duncan, who had stationed himself by the exit. He gave Danny a weak smile.

"Well, at least I won't have to spend any money on a closing-night party."

D
ANNY MET
G
ERALD
Payne outside the St. Stephen's entrance of the Palace of Westminster. It was his first visit to the House of Commons, and he was planning that it would be Payne's last.

"I have two tickets for the public gallery," Payne announced in a loud voice to the policeman stationed at the entrance. It still took them a long time to pass through security.

Once they had emptied their pockets and passed through the metal detector, Payne guided Danny down a long marble corridor to the Central Lobby.

"They don't have tickets," Payne explained as he marched past a row of visitors sitting on the green benches waiting patiently to be admitted to the public gallery. "They won't get in until late this evening, if at all."

Danny took in the atmosphere of the Central Lobby while Payne reported to the policeman on the desk and presented his tickets. Members were chatting to visiting constituents, tourists were staring up at the ornate mosaic ceiling, while others for whom it had all become commonplace strode purposefully across the lobby as they went about their business.

Payne seemed interested in only one thing: making sure he secured a good seat before the minister rose to make her statement from the dispatch box. Danny also wanted him to have the best possible view of proceedings.

The policeman pointed to a corridor on his right. Payne marched off, and Danny had to hurry to catch him up. Payne strode down the green-carpeted corridor and up a flight of steps to the first floor as if he were already a Member. He and Danny were met at the top of the stairs by an usher, who checked their tickets before escorting them into the Strangers' Gallery. The first thing that struck Danny was how small the gallery was, and how few places there were for visitors, which explained the number of people having to wait on the ground floor. The usher found them two seats in the fourth row and handed them both an order paper. Danny leaned forward and looked down into the Chamber, surprised to see how few Members were present despite it being the middle of the day. It was clear that not many MPs were that interested in where the Olympic velodrome would be sited, even though some people's whole future rested on the minister's decision. One of them was sitting next to Danny.

"Mostly London Members," Payne whispered as he turned to the relevant page on the order paper. His hand was shaking as he drew Danny's attention to the top of the page:
12:30
P.M
., Statement by the Minister of Sport
.

Danny tried to follow what was happening in the chamber below. Payne explained that it was a day allocated for questions to the Minister of Health, but that these would end promptly at 12:30. Danny was delighted to see just how impatient Payne was to swap his place in the gallery for a seat on the green benches below.

As the clock above the Speaker's chair edged ever nearer to 12:30, Payne began fidgeting with his order paper, his right leg twitching. Danny remained calm, but then he already knew what the minister was going to tell the House.

When the Speaker rose at 12:30 and bellowed, "Statement by the Minister of Sport," Payne leaned forward to get a better view as the minister rose from the front bench and placed a red file on the dispatch box.

"Mr. Speaker, with your permission I will make a statement concerning which site I have selected for the building of a prospective Olympic velodrome. Members will recall that I informed the House earlier this month that I had shortlisted two locations for consideration but would not make my final decision until I had received detailed surveyors' reports on both sites." Danny glanced around at Payne; a bead of sweat had appeared on his forehead. Danny tried to look concerned, too. "Those reports were handed into my office yesterday, and copies were also sent to the Olympic
Sites Committee, to the two honorable Members in whose constituencies the sites are located, and to the president of the British Cycling Federation. Members can obtain copies from the Order Office immediately following this statement.

"Having read the two reports, all the parties concerned agreed that only one site could possibly be considered for this important project." A flicker of a smile appeared on Payne's lips. "The surveyor's report revealed that one of the sites is unfortunately infested with a noxious and invasive plant known as Japanese knotweed (laughter). I can sense that honorable Members, like myself, have not come across this problem before, so I will spend a moment explaining its consequences. Japanese knotweed is an extraordinarily aggressive and destructive plant, which, once it takes hold, quickly spreads and renders the land on which it is growing unsuitable for any building project. Before making my final decision, I sought advice as to whether there was a simple solution to this problem. I was assured by experts in the field that Japanese knotweed can in fact be eradicated by chemical treatment." Payne looked up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "However, past experience has shown that first attempts are not always successful. The average time before land owned by councils in Birmingham, Liverpool and Dundee was cleared of the weed and passed fit to build on was just over a year.

"Honorable Members will appreciate that it would be irresponsible for my department to risk waiting another twelve months, or possibly even longer, before work can commence on the infested site. I am therefore left with no choice but to select the excellent alternative site for this project." Payne's skin turned chalk white when he heard the word "alternative." "I have been able to announce that my department, with the backing of the British Olympic Committee and the British Cycling Federation, has selected the site in Stratford South for the building of the new velodrome." The minister resumed her place and waited for questions from the floor.

Danny looked at Payne, whose head was resting in his hands.

An usher came running down the steps. "Is your friend feeling all right?" he asked, looking concerned.

"I'm afraid not," said Danny, looking unconcerned. "Can we get him to a lavatory? I have a feeling he's going to be sick."

Danny took Payne by the arm and helped him to his feet, while the usher guided them both up the steps and out of the gallery. He ran ahead
and opened the door to allow Payne to stagger into the washroom. Payne began to be sick long before he'd reached a washbasin.

He pulled his tie loose and undid the top button of his shirt, then began to retch again. As he bowed his head and clung on to the side of the basin breathing heavily, Danny helped him off with his jacket. He deftly removed Payne's mobile from an inside pocket of his jacket and pressed a button that revealed a long list of names. He scrolled through them until he reached "Lawrence." As Payne stuck his head in the washbasin for the third time, Danny checked his watch. Davenport would be preparing for his screen test, one last look at the script before going off to makeup. He began to tap out a text message as Payne fell on his knees, sobbing, just as Beth had done when she watched her brother die.
Minister didn't select our site. Sorry. Thought you'd want to know
. He smiled and touched the "send" button, before returning to the list of contacts. He scrolled on down, stopping when the name "Spencer" appeared.