Best Kept Secret

21





‘DUNNETT, IT’S GOOD of you to drop in at such short notice, especially on a Sunday afternoon.’

‘My pleasure, Mr Chairman. I know you’ll be pleased to hear how well our canvassing is going. The early returns suggest we should win the seat by over a thousand votes.’

‘Let’s hope you’re right, Dunnett, for the party’s sake, because I’m afraid my news is not so good. You’d better have a seat.’

The cheerful smile on the candidate’s face was replaced with a quizzical look. ‘What’s the problem, Mr Chairman?’ he asked as he sat down in the chair opposite Fisher.

‘I think you know only too well what the problem is.’

Dunnett began biting his lower lip as he stared at the chairman.

‘When you applied for this seat and supplied the committee with your CV,’ continued Fisher, ‘it appears you weren’t entirely frank with us.’ Fisher had only ever seen a man turn that white on the battlefield. ‘You’ll recall that you were asked to state what role you played during the war.’ Fisher picked up Dunnett’s CV from his desk and read out loud: ‘Because of an injury sustained on the rugby field, I had no choice but to serve in the Royal Ambulance Corps.’

Dunnett slumped in his chair, like a marionette that had had its strings cut.

‘I have recently discovered that this statement was at best misleading, and at worst duplicitous.’ Dunnett closed his eyes. ‘The truth is that you were a conscientious objector, and served six months in prison. It was only after being released that you joined the ambulance service.’

‘But that was more than ten years ago,’ said Dunnett desperately. ‘There’s no reason that anyone else should find out.’

‘I wish that were the case, Dunnett, but sadly we’ve had a letter from someone who served in Parkhurst with you,’ said Fisher, holding up an envelope that contained nothing more than a gas bill. ‘If I were to go along with this deception, Dunnett, I would be condoning your dishonesty. And if the truth came out during the campaign or, even worse, when you were a Member of Parliament, I would have to admit to my colleagues that I already knew about it, and they would rightly call for my resignation.’

‘But I can still win this election, if only you’ll back me.’

‘And Barrington would win by a landslide if the Labour Party got to hear of this. Don’t forget that he not only won an MC, but escaped from a German prisoner-of-war camp.’

Dunnett bowed his head and began to weep.

‘Pull yourself together, Dunnett, and behave like a gentleman. There’s still an honourable way out.’

Dunnett looked up, and for a moment an expression of hope flickered across his face. Fisher pushed a blank sheet of the constituency’s headed notepaper across to Dunnett, and took the top off his fountain pen.

‘Why don’t we work on this together?’ he said as he handed the pen to him.

‘Dear Mr Chairman,’ dictated Fisher, as Dunnett reluctantly began to write. ‘It is with great regret that I find it necessary to tender my resignation as the Conservative Party candidate at the forthcoming general election –’ Fisher paused before adding – ‘for health reasons.’

Dunnett looked up.

‘Does your wife know you were a conscientious objector?’

Dunnett shook his head.

‘Then let’s keep it that way, shall we?’ Fisher gave him an understanding smile before continuing. ‘I would like to say how sorry I am to have caused the committee this inconvenience so close to the election –’ Fisher paused again, and watched as Dunnett’s trembling hand stuttered across the page – ‘and wish whoever is fortunate enough to take my place the best of luck. Yours sincerely. . .’ He didn’t speak again until Dunnett had written his signature at the bottom of the page.

Fisher picked up the letter and checked the text carefully. Satisfied, he slipped it into an envelope and pushed it back across the table.

‘Just address it “The Chairman, private and personal”.’

Dunnett obeyed, having accepted his fate.

‘I’m so sorry, Dunnett,’ said Fisher as he screwed the top back on his pen. ‘I really do feel for you.’ He placed the envelope in the top drawer of his desk, which he then locked. ‘But chin up, old fellow.’ He rose from his chair and took Dunnett by the elbow. ‘I’m sure you’ll realize I’ve always had your best interests at heart,’ he added as he led him slowly to the door. ‘It might be wise if you were to leave the constituency as quickly as possible. Wouldn’t want some nosy journalist to get his hands on the story, would we?’

Dunnett looked horrified.

‘And before you ask, Greg, you can rely on my discretion.’

‘Thank you, Mr Chairman,’ said Dunnett as the door closed.

Fisher returned to his office, picked up the phone on his desk and dialled a number that was written on the pad in front of him.

‘Peter, it’s Alex Fisher. Sorry to bother you on a Sunday afternoon, but a problem has arisen that I need to discuss with you urgently. I wonder if you’re free to join me for dinner?’



‘Gentlemen, it is with considerable regret that I have to inform you that yesterday afternoon I had a visit from Gregory Dunnett, who sadly felt he had to tender his resignation as our parliamentary candidate, which is why I called this emergency meeting.’

Almost every member of the executive committee started talking at the same time. The word that kept being repeated was, why?

Fisher waited patiently for order to be restored before he answered that question. ‘Dunnett confessed to me that he misled the committee when he suggested he had served with the Royal Ambulance Corps during the war, when in fact he had been a conscientious objector who served a six-month prison sentence. He got wind that one of his fellow inmates at Parkhurst had been approached by the press, which he felt left him with no option but to resign.’

The second outburst of opinions and questions was even more vociferous, but once again Fisher bided his time. He could afford to. He’d written the script and knew what was on the next page.

‘I felt I was left with no choice but to accept his resignation on your behalf, and we agreed that he should leave the constituency as quickly as possible. I hope you won’t feel I was too lenient on the young man.’

‘How can we possibly find another candidate at such short notice?’ asked Peter Maynard, bang on cue.

‘That was also my first reaction,’ said Fisher, ‘so I immediately phoned Central Office to seek their guidance, but there were not many people at their desks on a Sunday afternoon. However, I did discover one thing when I spoke to their legal department, which you may feel is significant. Should we fail to adopt a candidate before May the twelfth, next Thursday, under electoral law we will be disqualified from taking any part in the election, which would guarantee Barrington a landslide victory, as his only opponent would be the Liberal candidate.’

The noise around the table reached fever pitch, but Fisher had never doubted it would. Once a semblance of order had returned, he continued. ‘My next call was to Neville Simpson.’

A few hopeful smiles appeared among the committee members.

‘But sadly he’s been snapped up by Fulham Central, and has already signed his adoption papers. I then scoured the original list sent to us by Central Office, only to find that the better candidates have already secured a seat, and those who are still available would, frankly, be eaten alive by Barrington. So, I’m in your hands, gentlemen.’

Several hands shot up and Fisher selected Peter Maynard, as if he’d been the first person to catch his eye.

‘This is a sad day for the party, Mr Chairman, but I don’t feel anyone could have handled this delicate situation better than you have done.’

A general murmur of approval swept around the table.

‘It’s kind of you to say so, Peter. I simply did what I felt was best for the association.’

‘And I can only speak for myself, Mr Chairman,’ continued Maynard, ‘when I say that, given the problem we find ourselves with, is it at all possible that you could be prevailed upon to step into the breach?’

‘No, no,’ said Fisher, waving a Cassius-like hand. ‘I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone far better qualified than me to represent you.’

‘But no one knows the constituency, or for that matter our opponent, better than you, Mr Chairman.’

Fisher allowed several similar sentiments to be aired, before the party secretary said, ‘I agree with Peter. We certainly can’t afford to waste any more time. The longer we procrastinate, the happier Barrington will be.’

After Fisher felt confident that this opinion seemed to be accepted by the majority of the committee, he bowed his head, a sign for Maynard to stand up and say, ‘I propose that Major Alex Fisher be invited to stand as the Conservative prospective parliamentary candidate for the Bristol Docklands division.’

Fisher raised an eye to see if anyone would second the proposal. The secretary obliged.

‘Those in favour,’ said Maynard. Several hands around the table shot up. Maynard waited until the last reluctant hand finally joined the majority, before saying, ‘I declare the motion carried unanimously.’ The announcement was followed by loud applause.

‘I am quite overwhelmed, gentlemen,’ said Fisher, ‘and I accept the confidence you have shown in me with humility, because as you all know, I have always put the party first, and this is the last outcome I could have envisaged. However, you can be assured,’ he continued, ‘that I will do everything in my power to defeat Giles Barrington at the election, and return a Conservative to the House of Commons to represent Bristol Docklands’ – a speech he had rehearsed several times, as he knew he wouldn’t be able to refer to any notes.

The committee shot out of their seats and began applauding loudly. Fisher bowed his head and smiled. He would call Virginia as soon as he got home, and tell her that the small payment she’d authorized for Mitchell to discover if any of the candidates had something in their backgrounds that might embarrass the party had proved a more than worthwhile investment. Fisher now felt confident that he could humiliate Barrington, and this time it would be on the battlefield.



‘Benny, it’s Major Fisher.’

‘Always good to hear from you, major, especially as a little bird tells me that congratulations are in order.’

‘Thank you,’ said Fisher, ‘but that’s not why I’m phoning.’

‘My pen is poised, major.’

‘I want you to carry out the same transaction as before, but this time there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have a little flutter yourself.’

‘You must be very sure of yourself, major,’ said Benny. When he received no reply, he added, ‘So that’s a sell order for two hundred thousand Barrington’s shares.’

‘Confirmed,’ said Fisher. ‘But once again, the timing is vital.’

‘Just tell me when you want to place the order, major.’

‘On May the fifth, the day of Barrington’s AGM. But it’s important the transaction is settled before ten o’clock that morning.’

‘Consider it done.’ After a moment’s pause, Benny added, ‘So the whole transaction will be completed by the day of the election?’

‘That’s right.’

‘What an ideal day for killing two birds with one stone.’





GILES BARRINGTON





1955