Page 87 of Darling
“Fair to middling. You?”
“Ha. Fucking awful. Whoever said this job was the pinnacle of politics was a bald-faced liar. Worst job on the planet, I tell you.”
“Well, you were given a bit of a poisoned chalice, Jaz; it’s not all down to you.”
“Oh, I know, I know, and I’ve my eye on the door now, so it’s already better than it was yesterday.”
“So, what can I do for you?” I can pretty much guess.
“I know you’ve spoken with Bridge. I also know you’ve not given her an answer yet. So I thought I’d call and extend the offer in person. Also, Lyle took a bit of a turn for the worse, so there’s a statement going out tomorrow, but he’s effectively gone. Your coming into 11 now would be a godsend, Christian.”
“Right.”
“I also wanted to call to give you the good news. Adrian is out.”
“Out?”
“Gone. Ejected from the party. He pissed off too many people, too many times, and his biggest mistake was putting me in here. There’s apparently some investment scandal simmeringtoo, that he’s going to be dragged into, so he’s effectively jumped before he was pushed. Point is, I know he had a hand in your being shipped off there, so if that was the sticking point for you, I wanted you to know that it’s been unstuck.”
It had been part of it, of course, but nowhere near the totality of the thing. Asher is a far larger sticking point now, and I’m not sure Jasmine Thewlis will be able to unstick him. Not from my mind or my heart or my soul.
“You started this call by telling me how it was the worst job in the world. Your sales pitch needs a lot more work.”
She laughs at this. “You know just how fucking shit the job is, Christian, you’ve always known, I’m hardly going to lie to you about it. You knew and you didn’t care because your heart was in it.”
“No one gave a shit about my heart when they took my name off the foreign secretary’s door and put me on a business flight to Washington.”
“How is your heart, by the way?” she says bluntly. I get an image of Asher in bed, hair ruffled and eyes still sleepy, smiling.
“Healing.”
“I’m glad. Look, despite what everyone thinks, I do have some degree of responsibility for this country, and I do believe Bridget is right about this one: you’re the guy. You should have been the guy after Nish; everyone here knows it, including me.” Then, because she can’t resist the joke, she says in a very affected accent. “Your country needs you, sir!”
Perhaps it does. But do I needit?
I promise Jasmine that I’ll give my answer to Bridget after the ambassador dinner, then I go looking for Leo. He’s dead asleep on his bed, fully clothed, pink hair fluffed out like a troll toy. Back downstairs, I find Mrs Kennedy in the kitchen, explaining things very loudly and very carefully to a woman next to her.It’s the new woman who sees me first, turning to me fully and dropping into a curtsey. I have to swallow the urge to laugh, giving her a friendly smile instead.
“Hello there, you must be Marianne.” Both Gael and Mrs Kennedy had reminded me that a new member of the house staff was starting this week. I tried my very best to learn their names, though I barely saw them unless they came in to clean my office when I was in there. It felt to me like most of the housework was done in the dead of night because of how little I saw them. Paintings and figurines gleamed and sparkled, the sheets were always pressed to perfection, and the lawns mown smooth and green.
“Yes, sir, nice to meet you, sir,” says Marianne with a nervous smile.
“Ambassador,” Mrs Kennedy corrects with a note of impatience. I can’t imagine she’d be very forgiving to work under.
“I trust Grace is filling you in on how much of a nightmare I am to work for?”
Grace laughs girlishly. “He’s the best one we’ve had, don’t let him fool you.”
“I was just hoping for some tea, if that’s alright?”
Both women nod profusely. “Of course, sir,” says Marianne.
“I’m in the study if you can bring it there. Tell me, is Mr Cazalla at home?”
“Yes, Ambassador, I believe he went for a swim.”
“Perfect, I’ll nip down and see him there then. Thanks.”
The pool is in the lower basement of the house, beneath the gym. I haven’t used it once since I got here, mainly because, well, I can’t swim. It’s embarrassing. My mother, who had a distant cousin who drowned as a child, was always terrified the same would happen to me and so never wanted me to have lessonsor be anywhere near a body of water if it could be helped. My mother, who now lives in a house by the sea.