Bertie and the Kinky Politician by Mike A Vickers Page B

do you want some nuts?’
    â€˜Ah,’ murmured James. ‘Blackmail, the last resort of the desperate.’
    â€˜Nuts, Bertie. Do you want some?’ Celeste opened a drawer, extracted a few Brazils and let them clatter onto his feeding tray. Bertie looked around, his attention drawn to the familiar sound. ‘Well? Do you?’
    He knew the answer to this one. ‘Yes, I do!’ he chirruped, and scrambled back along the top of the sofa like a mountaineer negotiating a Himalayan col. A hop brought him back to his perch and he bent to inspect the bribe. It always worked. He knew if he pestered in a nice way he’d always manage to extract some small treat from his mum.
    With Bertie’s attention diverted, Celeste sat again. ‘So what happened after the Prime Minister stabbed you? Now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d ever utter,’ she added dryly.
    â€˜I had a blazing row with him in his Commons office. He wanted to know what the hell I was trying to do. I told him I found the speech prepared for me appeared to be lacking in certain areas and so I rectified the omission, assuming this review covered all areas in the ministry.’
    â€˜Hence the references to all those anonymous departments in the MoD.’
    â€˜Yes. Despite reminding him he’d assured me of his full support, it now appears he wasn’t exactly planning to go that far and berated me soundly, at which point I felt a little righteous anger come to my rescue.’
    â€˜Oh dear!’
    â€˜I was quite impressive, even if I say it myself.’ Celeste smiled at his ironic tone. ‘I waved my ink and blood-stained trousers at him, accused him of an unjustified attack and threatened to resign on the spot. That blasted pen really hurt. Anyway, he backed off quicker than the Italian army in full flight, at the mention of resignation! The spectre of another departure from the MoD had a remarkably soporific effect. I was offered tea, the ultimate sign of reconciliation, and things progressed in a more civilised manner. The matter of my possible resignation was quietly shelved, which confirmed my assessment of the situation. Then I got to wondering why such an investigation should provoke so a violent reaction, after all, any ministry must, in the end, be accountable to Parliament.’
    â€˜James, has anyone ever told you how wonderfully innocent you are? I remember the way things were run in Brazil – what makes you think Britain is any better?’
    â€˜I’m sure corruption isn’t as widespread in this country with our system of checks and balances, but at the same time if there are factions with their own agenda then I just want them rooted out, and an investigation into the accounts is one of the best ways of revealing what nasty little insects are scuttling around under the carpet. Suddenly, I realised how truly worried he was. I’ll bet some of these covert agencies have secrets worth telling and the PM must have had involvement in some of them.’
    â€˜You’ll get sacked or discredited before anything hits the newspapers. Or worse. Can you imagine what they would make of us?’
    â€˜The thought has crossed my mind, but as I’ve already pointed out I’m going to be out of a job after the next election anyway so I’ve nothing to lose by rocking the boat. Rather the opposite, actually; the public do like to see a minister doing his job. The press are definitely on my side for this one.’
    â€˜Will you retire?’
    â€˜That’s the plan. My financial interests are just about sufficient to see me through to old age and I figure I can maybe boost my income with some memoirs if things get really desperate. I’ve seen some amusing things at Westminster over the years.’
    That was another thing that Celeste liked about James. He wasn’t greedy. ‘But you’ll get bored.’
    â€˜Hardly. I’ll be far too busy