Read Online A Parliamentary Affair by Edwina Currie - Free Book Online
Authors: Edwina Currie
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further scribbled remark: ‘Nervous, but plenty of self-control. COMPETENT.’
Andrew would never see it, but that would do nicely.
His snub nose came up to the level of the counter, so by standing on tiptoe he could just see the puddings. Luscious sultana cheesecake; five different kinds of fruit yoghurt; a vast, tempting piece of chocolate cake, bent over by the weight of its own sinful cream; slices of pale-green melon, little silver dishes of curved yellow peaches glistening in heavy syrup, tiny sweet mandarin segments. He looked up at his mother hopefully.
‘I’m not really hungry, Mother. Could I just have cake?’
It would be better to say no, to insist that Barney eat properly. Tessa felt panicky again. It would not do to risk a row here in Strangers’ Cafeteria, in the very bowels of the Commons open only to Honourable Members and their guests, with Andrew standing beside her a touch impatient andjumpy after his great triumph, and Sir Edward already shakily paying for his tea. She nodded mutely. The child, eyes wild with delight, helped himself, using both hands to carry the plate with solemn dignity to a table.
A handsome, well-dressed woman with a familiar face chuckled. Tessa Muncastle could never remember names: there had been so many new people to meet. The woman sensed her uncertainty and introduced herself, speaking equally to both mother and child.
‘Elaine Stalker, South Warmingshire. You’re with Andrew Muncastle, are you? Is he your daddy? Did you hear him speak? Gosh, you should be proud of him.’
Barney nodded earnestly as they sat down. It was very cramped; the child’s feet were knocking against Tessa’s knees. The little boy picked up a spoon and fork and, concentrating hard, manfully tried to eat the disintegrating cake the way he had been taught. A dark chocolatey chunk slowly slithered off the fork on to his new shirt and best school tie. The small face began to crumple and blue eyes filled with tears.
Mrs Stalker leaned over diplomatically. ‘If I were you, I’d try this way.’ She handed him a large spoon. ‘Nobody here has any manners and MPs are the worst of all, so you’re in good company.’
Confidence and pleasure restored, the child tucked in gratefully. Elaine sipped her tea. Ten years ago, when Karen had been about his age, she had started exploring the idea of getting to Westminster. It had not been for want of trying that it had taken so long.
‘Do you like being an MP?’ Tessa was making conversation. She would have preferred to have taken Barney and Sir Edward straight home.
‘Do I like it? Oh yes, this is what I’ve always wanted to do. It’s all very bewildering at first. I expect Andrew feels exactly the same, though he’s finding his feet quicker than most of us.’
Over on the far side of the room Andrew, cup in hand, was bending over a table talking to colleagues. He seemed almost to have forgotten them.
Elaine caught Tessa’s wistful expression. ‘It must be even harder being an MP’s wife,’ she suggested. ‘After all, we make a choice but our families don’t. We have the fun and privileges and you take all the hard knocks.’ She didn’t believe it, suspecting that in reality it was often the other way round, but it was a kindly flattery. The reaction took her aback.
Tessa Muncastle, head bowed, was picking at the tablecloth and talking in a low, urgent voice. ‘I hate the whole business,’ she was saying. ‘Andrew says I’ll get used to all the attention, but I’ve always been shy and I find it so hard. It’s all right for him: meeting people and shaking lots of hands and being seen in public is all part of his job and he’s good at it. I get the most awful sick butterflies every time. Now he’s famous I’m being asked to draw raffles and give interviews but it scares me, Mrs Stalker. I’ll make a fool of myself and say all the wrong things, then Andrew will be furious. It makes me so miserable. Most of all, I hardly ever
Andrew would never see it, but that would do nicely.
His snub nose came up to the level of the counter, so by standing on tiptoe he could just see the puddings. Luscious sultana cheesecake; five different kinds of fruit yoghurt; a vast, tempting piece of chocolate cake, bent over by the weight of its own sinful cream; slices of pale-green melon, little silver dishes of curved yellow peaches glistening in heavy syrup, tiny sweet mandarin segments. He looked up at his mother hopefully.
‘I’m not really hungry, Mother. Could I just have cake?’
It would be better to say no, to insist that Barney eat properly. Tessa felt panicky again. It would not do to risk a row here in Strangers’ Cafeteria, in the very bowels of the Commons open only to Honourable Members and their guests, with Andrew standing beside her a touch impatient andjumpy after his great triumph, and Sir Edward already shakily paying for his tea. She nodded mutely. The child, eyes wild with delight, helped himself, using both hands to carry the plate with solemn dignity to a table.
A handsome, well-dressed woman with a familiar face chuckled. Tessa Muncastle could never remember names: there had been so many new people to meet. The woman sensed her uncertainty and introduced herself, speaking equally to both mother and child.
‘Elaine Stalker, South Warmingshire. You’re with Andrew Muncastle, are you? Is he your daddy? Did you hear him speak? Gosh, you should be proud of him.’
Barney nodded earnestly as they sat down. It was very cramped; the child’s feet were knocking against Tessa’s knees. The little boy picked up a spoon and fork and, concentrating hard, manfully tried to eat the disintegrating cake the way he had been taught. A dark chocolatey chunk slowly slithered off the fork on to his new shirt and best school tie. The small face began to crumple and blue eyes filled with tears.
Mrs Stalker leaned over diplomatically. ‘If I were you, I’d try this way.’ She handed him a large spoon. ‘Nobody here has any manners and MPs are the worst of all, so you’re in good company.’
Confidence and pleasure restored, the child tucked in gratefully. Elaine sipped her tea. Ten years ago, when Karen had been about his age, she had started exploring the idea of getting to Westminster. It had not been for want of trying that it had taken so long.
‘Do you like being an MP?’ Tessa was making conversation. She would have preferred to have taken Barney and Sir Edward straight home.
‘Do I like it? Oh yes, this is what I’ve always wanted to do. It’s all very bewildering at first. I expect Andrew feels exactly the same, though he’s finding his feet quicker than most of us.’
Over on the far side of the room Andrew, cup in hand, was bending over a table talking to colleagues. He seemed almost to have forgotten them.
Elaine caught Tessa’s wistful expression. ‘It must be even harder being an MP’s wife,’ she suggested. ‘After all, we make a choice but our families don’t. We have the fun and privileges and you take all the hard knocks.’ She didn’t believe it, suspecting that in reality it was often the other way round, but it was a kindly flattery. The reaction took her aback.
Tessa Muncastle, head bowed, was picking at the tablecloth and talking in a low, urgent voice. ‘I hate the whole business,’ she was saying. ‘Andrew says I’ll get used to all the attention, but I’ve always been shy and I find it so hard. It’s all right for him: meeting people and shaking lots of hands and being seen in public is all part of his job and he’s good at it. I get the most awful sick butterflies every time. Now he’s famous I’m being asked to draw raffles and give interviews but it scares me, Mrs Stalker. I’ll make a fool of myself and say all the wrong things, then Andrew will be furious. It makes me so miserable. Most of all, I hardly ever
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