Best Kept Secret

better get back to Bristol and start working on it immediately. But before I do, there’s something I’d like to ask you.’
    ‘Of course,’ said Virginia, ‘ask me anything. After all, we’re partners now.’
    ‘Why did you choose me for this job?’
    ‘Oh, that’s simple, major. Giles once told me you were the only man he’s ever detested.’

    ‘Gentlemen,’ said Bill Hawkins, the chairman of the Conservative Association as he tapped his gavel on the table, ‘if I might call the meeting to order.
Perhaps I could begin by asking our honorary secretary, Major Fisher, to read the minutes of the last meeting.’
    ‘Thank you, Mr Chairman. At the last meeting, held on the fourteenth of June 1954, the committee instructed me to write to Central Office in London and request a list of candidates who
might be considered to represent the party in this constituency at the next general election. The official candidates list arrived a few days later, and I circulated a copy to members so they could
consider the applicants at this evening’s meeting.
    ‘It was agreed that the summer fete would be held at Castle Combe this year, by kind permission of the Hon. Mrs Hartley-Booth JP. There followed a discussion on the price of raffle
tickets, and a vote was taken, after which it was agreed they should be sixpence each, and six for half a crown. The treasurer, Mr Maynard, then reported that the association’s bank account
was in credit to the tune of forty-seven pounds and twelve shillings. He said he had written a follow-up letter to all those members who had not yet paid their annual subscription. There being no
other business, the meeting was closed at twelve minutes past ten.’
    ‘Thank you, major,’ said the chairman. ‘Now let us move on to item two, namely the list of candidates recommended by Central Office. You have all had several days to consider
the names, so I will throw the meeting open for a general discussion before we shortlist those candidates you feel should be invited for an interview.’
    Fisher had already shown the list of candidates to Lady Virginia, and they had agreed on the person they thought would best serve their long-term purpose. Fisher sat back and listened carefully
as his fellow committee members expressed their opinions as to the merits and shortcomings of each candidate. It quickly became clear that his choice was not the front-runner, but at least no one
was opposed to him.
    ‘Do you wish to offer an opinion, major, before I call for a vote?’ Hawkins asked.
    ‘Thank you, chairman. I agree with those members who feel that Mr Simpson, having fought so gallantly at Ebbw Vale during the last election, deserves to be interviewed, but I believe we
should also consider Mr Dunnett. After all, his wife is a local girl, which is a considerable advantage, especially when you consider Sir Giles Barrington’s current marital status.’
    Several ‘Hear, hears’ echoed around the table.
    Forty minutes later, Gregory Dunnett was among those on the shortlist, together with Mr Simpson, the former candidate for Ebbw Vale, plus a local councillor, no hope, a bachelor over the age of
forty, no hope, and the statutory woman, absolutely no hope. All Fisher needed to do now was find a good reason for them not to select Mr Simpson.
    As the meeting was drawing to a close, the chairman called for any other business.
    ‘I have something to report to the committee,’ Fisher said, screwing the top back on his pen, ‘but I think it would be wise for it not to be recorded in the minutes.’
    ‘I’m sure you’re the best judge of that, major,’ said the chairman, glancing around the table to confirm that everyone else present was in agreement.
    ‘When I was staying at my club in London last week,’ said Fisher, ‘I picked up some disturbing information from a reliable source, concerning Sir Giles Barrington.’ He
now had the full attention of the entire committee. ‘As all of you will be aware, Sir Giles is currently facing divorce proceedings following the unfortunate breakdown of his marriage. Most
of us felt some sympathy for him when he decided to take “the Brighton route”, especially after he let it be known, rather ungraciously in my opinion, that he did so to protect his
wife’s reputation. We’re all grown men, and are all well aware that the divorce laws badly need reforming. However, I have since discovered that we have only heard half the story. Sir
Giles,