Party Games by E J Greenway

realised that the Bill, and Fisher, were about to be hijacked. She fell silent, bitter at her treatment, feeling foolish in front of her colleagues.  Couldn’t it have been discussed in private?
    Anthea glanced at Colin.  If anyone leaked the exchange to a journalist or two, she would know just where to point the finger.  She thought of Tristan.  She would ring him straight after the meeting and arrange lunch.  Sod Rodney bloody Richmond.
    Rodney clasped his hands on the table, his dark brow furrowed.  Faces stared at him expectantly, sensing something bad was about to be aired.
    “Just before you all go, I thought it courteous to let you know that the story involving Martin Arnold is going to break in the Sunday Engager this week…”
     
    *****
     
    Tristan had hoped that the papers would have made a lot more of it than they did, but the comment that appeared in even the Bulletin supported Richmond’s appointment of Bronwyn – ‘Rivers of Blood, or a Victory for Parliamentary Democracy?’    Probably, he thought, the paper’s retaliation for him turning down an interview.  He had come to the conclusion that it wouldn’t have done him any good at all to speak out publicly.  A quiet life seemed far more appealing. The London Chronicle hinted that maybe Tristan’s dismissal had been for more than professional reasons, but he soon forgot about that – his wife wouldn’t have talked, she knew better than that.  She had money and a nice life now, all the heartbreak was done with.  That reminded him, he had better remember his son’s birthday.  Perhaps he and Nicole could discuss the little matter they had been putting off for seven years.  Tristan wanted his life back, he had done his penance, made the ultimate sacrifice, and now he wanted out, for good. Especially now he had a chance of happiness.  He had put Anthea’s reluctance for intimacy down to nerves, rather than down to Rodney Richmond.  She had told him the rumours weren’t true, and he was desperately inclined to believe her.
    He hadn’t made the decision to go to the meeting with Colin Scott lightly.  He knew full well that the man was a potential trouble-maker and that both he and Colin had their crosses to bear as far as Richmond was concerned, but that certainly didn’t mean that the two men had to like each other, or indeed have mysterious evening meetings.  However, Tristan felt compelled to go even just to satisfy his own curiosity.  After stuffing down a sandwich, he ambled over to the Deputy Leader’s suite just along the corridor from his own new, cramped office, keeping a firm eye out for anyone who may snitch to the Leader.
    “Ah, come in, come in.”  Colin beamed as Tristan peered around the door.
    “Thanks.”  Tristan muttered, studying Colin closely with a suspicious eye.  He sat himself down on a straight-backed chair as Colin waved his bottle of whisky at him.
    “A glass of the strong stuff?”  Colin asked, a bitter-sweet smile spread across his face.
    “Err, no thanks, I shouldn’t really…”  Tristan began, but trailed off after Colin ignored his decline and poured him a generous double shot, plonking the glass down in front of him on the table with such a clatter Tristan gave a jump.
    “Come on, get that down you.  I bet you need it after everything that’s been going on the past day or so.”  Colin said, throwing himself into an easy-chair opposite his colleague.  Tristan shifted uncomfortably and began to spin the glass around in his hand, nodding in agreement and wondering when he was going to cut to the chase.   He swore blind that he would never let Colin Scott intimidate him, he had seen him at work in recent months and decided that he was an unpleasant individual whom he needed to give as wide a berth as possible.  He just hoped that perhaps Bronwyn would be able to deal with him in a more upfront manner than he had been able.
    “Is there something in particular you wish to discuss,