party’s generous friends? Well, that was a question but not one of the ones I intended to ask.
‘He’ll be down in a moment.’
Lizzy’s voice was as tight as her face. She sat on the sofa at the far side of the room, bony knees together.
‘I hear you’ve been seeing a lot of our daughter.’
I sank into the sofa opposite. She pointed at the lapel of my jacket.
‘You’ll never get that pollen off.’ I looked at the brown dust from the lilies I didn’t realize I’d brushed against.
‘We’ve been working together on something.’
‘Her men aren’t normally as old as you.’ Her smile was mocking. ‘Though her women sometimes are.’
I let that go, though I realized I hadn’t given Kate’s sexuality a single thought – why would I?
‘How’s work, Lizzy? Got some interesting projects?’
‘I’m doing a couple of tellies, a few profiles. But I’ve been commissioned to write a novel.’
‘Sex and sleaze in Westminster?’
‘Naturally. Tres discreet, though.’
‘I didn’t think those books were supposed to be discreet.’
‘Well, you know – relatively speaking.’
‘Bob – what a surprise.’
Simpson was standing in the doorway. He didn’t come forward to greet me, I didn’t stand.
Lizzy uncoiled from the sofa.
‘Lovely to see you, Bob.’
Simpson closed the door behind his wife and replaced her on the sofa.
‘I can’t do anything for you, you know,’ he said. ‘You made your own bed.’
‘Other people tucked me in.’
Simpson’s mouth twitched in slight acknowledgement of a smile. I hadn’t really noticed until now how sinister he looked. That Prince of Darkness tag that used to be applied to spin doctors certainly applied to the way he looked now. His hair had gone grey but his eyebrows and goatee beard were black. His mouth was an ungenerous slash.
I thought about how pretty and warm his daughter was. How come?
‘You’ve been seeing a lot of my daughter,’ he said, reading my thoughts.
‘So I gather. You know she’s been threatened because of you.’
‘What?’
‘You know. Don’t pretend you don’t. What are you into? Is it linked to the Milldean mess?’
Simpson looked at me, then out of the window. He pouted a little.
‘It’s none of your business, Bob. Let me just say that it was a misunderstanding.’
‘ Was? Does that mean you’ve got it sorted.’
Simpson always had a poker face. Like most politicos, you could never tell what he was really thinking. But I thought I saw something in his eyes.
‘She’s still in danger, isn’t she?’
‘Absolutely not,’ he said.
‘But it’s not sorted.’
‘Just a little local difficulty, Bob, that’s all.’
‘Tell me about Little Stevie.’
‘Who’s Little Stevie?’ he said, looking genuinely puzzled.
‘One of the victims. The one who was shot sitting on the loo.’
‘Can’t help you there. Why would you think I’d know?’
‘He was a rent boy of some sort.’
‘I repeat my question.’
‘Was it blackmail? Are you still being blackmailed – did your account just get passed on to somebody else when Little Stevie was killed?’
‘Blackmailed about what?’ Simpson uncrossed his legs and leant forward. ‘Do you mean about my sexuality? You know I swing both ways – is that what you’re referring to?’
Although we’d never talked about it, I did know. There was an occasion years ago when Simpson and I had gone one lunchtime to hear some free jazz in the ICA.
It had been too free, even for me, but it was summer and hot and the wine had flowed freely. When the wine ran out, we’d left together and as we were walking across St James’s Park in the heat of the afternoon he said: ‘This is the kind of day to have a cool shower then spend the rest of the afternoon in bed with somebody.’
I laughed and nodded my head.
‘Shall we?’ he said.
I laughed again and gestured to the people sitting on the grass.
‘Who did you have in mind?’
He looked at me for a moment.
‘I was thinking you and me.’
It hung there as we threaded our way between the sunbathers. I remember distinctly wondering what the fuck I could say to that. I liked the guy but I wasn’t interested in sex with him. As best I recall, I pretended that we were just joking.
‘Another time, gorgeous,’ I probably said.
‘You’re on,’ he definitely said.
It was never referred to again.
Simpson laughed now without warmth.
‘I still remember your face as you attempted to fend me off without hurting my feelings. Priceless.’
‘I think you knew Little Stevie,’ I said
He gestured with his hands.
‘Prove it.’ He leant forward again. ‘Bob, let me give you some advice. Forget this obsession about the massacre. Get what remains of your life back together. Do your little radio spot about the Trunk Murders-’
‘You’re offering me career advice?’
I was pushing down the anger. I hated his imperturbability, hated the fact he’d been part of the train wreck of my recent life. My wife may have been right – I was looking for someone to blame because I wasn’t willing to take the responsibility myself. Maybe so, but I felt justified in focusing on my former friend. My anger seethed because I couldn’t see how to get him.
‘Your daughter is a good girl.’
‘Yes. Sometimes the apple falls far from the tree. She’s tediously good. Does she ever have fun?’
‘Lizzy suggested she was bisexual too.’
‘There’s a lot of it about. Family tradition. My father swung both ways. He liked the theatricals. A lot of married actors liked to go backstage, so to speak. He had flings with Olivier and Michael Redgrave, to hear him tell it. Maybe with your father too – who knows?’
‘Does Lizzy know? That you’re bisexual? Would it upset the apple cart at home if it came out?’
He snorted.
‘You obviously haven’t met her friend Erica.’ He sighed. ‘Bob, I have no idea why you’ve come today. I’m truly sorry your career has gone down the pan. I can understand your lashing out. But lashing out at me will achieve nothing but more grief.’
‘So far as that goes, I know you’re somehow involved. Maybe you were actually the one pushing for me to be fired. What I don’t understand is that I thought we were friends. Why screw me over?’
‘Ah, yes – friendship. Forged in youth, tempered in battle and all that. But don’t you think we were pushed together by circumstances? Our fathers. Do you even know how our fathers met?’
I shook my head.
‘In Brighton in the thirties. They were in the police force together.’
‘I know that,’ I said.
‘Ask your father about it.’
