Best Kept Secret

prime minister out of office after he’d just won a
war.’
    Giles glanced at his watch. ‘Can’t sit around chatting,’ he said. ‘I’m meant to be canvassing in Coronation Road. Care to join me, Harry?’ he said with a
grin.
    ‘You must be joking. Can you see me asking people to vote for you? I’d turn off more people than Virginia.’
    ‘Why not?’ said Emma. ‘You’ve handed in your latest manuscript to the publisher, and you’re always telling everyone firsthand experience is more worthwhile than
sitting in a library checking endless facts.’
    ‘But I’ve got a busy day ahead of me,’ protested Harry.
    ‘Of course you have,’ said Emma. ‘Now let me see, you’re taking Jessica to school this morning and, oh yes, you’re picking her up this afternoon and bringing her
home.’
    ‘Oh all right. I’ll join you,’ said Harry. ‘But strictly as an observer, you understand.’

    ‘Good afternoon, sir, my name is Giles Barrington. I hope I can count on your support at the general election on October twenty-fifth?’ he said as he stopped to chat
to a constituent.
    ‘You certainly can, Mr Barrington. I always vote Tory.’
    ‘Thank you,’ said Giles, quickly moving on to the next voter.
    ‘But you’re the Labour candidate,’ Harry reminded his brother-in-law.
    ‘There’s no mention of the parties on the ballot paper,’ said Giles, ‘only the candidates’ names. So why disillusion him? Good afternoon, my name is Giles
Barrington, and I was hoping—’
    ‘And you can go on hoping, because I won’t be voting for a stuck-up toff.’
    ‘But I’m the Labour candidate,’ protested Giles.
    ‘Doesn’t stop you being a toff. You’re as bad as that Frank Pakenham fellow, a traitor to your class.’
    Harry tried not to laugh as the man walked away.
    ‘Good afternoon, madam, my name is Giles Barrington.’
    ‘Oh, how nice to meet you, Sir Giles. I’ve been a great admirer of yours ever since you won the MC at Tobruk.’ Giles bowed low. ‘And although I would normally vote
Liberal, on this occasion you can rely on me.’
    ‘Thank you, madam,’ said Giles.
    She turned to Harry, who smiled and raised his hat. ‘And you needn’t bother raising your hat to me, Mr Clifton, because I know you were born in Still House Lane, and it’s
disgraceful that you vote Tory. You’re a traitor to your class,’ she added before marching off.
    It was Giles’s turn to try not to laugh.
    ‘I don’t think I’m cut out for politics,’ said Harry.
    ‘Good afternoon, sir, my name is—’
    ‘—Giles Barrington. Yes, I know,’ the man said, refusing Giles’s outstretched hand. ‘You shook hands with me half an hour ago, Mr Barrington, and I told you
I’d be voting for you. But now I’m not so sure.’
    ‘Is it always this bad?’ asked Harry.
    ‘Oh, it can be far worse. But if you place your head in the stocks, don’t be surprised if there are people who are only too happy to throw the occasional rotten tomato in your
direction.’
    ‘I would never make a politician,’ said Harry. ‘I take everything too personally.’
    ‘Then you’ll probably end up in the House of Lords,’ said Giles, coming to a halt outside a pub. ‘I think a quick half pint is called for, before we return to the
battlefield.’
    ‘I don’t think I’ve been in this pub before,’ said Harry, looking up at a flapping sign with a Volunteer beckoning them in.
    ‘Me neither. But come the day of the election, I’ll have had a drink in every hostelry in the constituency. Pub landlords are always happy to express an opinion.’
    ‘Who’d want to be a Member of Parliament?’
    ‘If you have to ask that question,’ said Giles as they entered the pub, ‘you’ll never understand the thrill of fighting an election, taking your seat in the House of
Commons and playing a role, however minor, in governing your country. It’s like war without the bullets.’
    Harry headed for a quiet alcove in a corner of the pub, while Giles took a seat at the bar. He was chatting to the barman when Harry returned to join him.
    ‘Sorry, old fellow,’ said Giles. ‘I can’t hide away in a corner. Have to be seen at all times, even when I’m taking a break.’
    ‘But there are some confidential matters I was hoping to discuss with you,’ said Harry.
    ‘Then you’ll just have to lower your voice. Two half pints of bitter, please, barman,’ said Giles. He settled back to listen to what Harry had to say, in