Redlaw by James Lovegrove

Redlaw by James Lovegrove

Author:James Lovegrove [James Lovegrove]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy, Horror, Urban, Fiction
ISBN: 9781849972956
Google: JbPXAAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B005OSIYYC
Goodreads: 10353283
Publisher: Solaris
Published: 2011-09-21T07:00:00+00:00


The conference was wound up soon after. On the way out each journalist was handed an electronic press kit containing images and easy-to-assimilate information about the Solarville project. Shortly after that, Lambourne summoned Slocock via text message for a debrief.

“Reckon it went well?” he said as they took a turn together through Victoria Tower Gardens. Traffic grumbled on one side of the small park, the Thames tumbled along on the other.

“Apart from Wax muffing it, yes.”

“Yes, he did seem to lose the plot all of a sudden, didn’t he? Weak man. Panicked by tough decisions. Not like you and me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he quits the job soon, maybe even before October. Wax is definitely on the wane.” Lambourne chuckled; Slocock didn’t. “Too corny?”

“Ever thought of writing headlines for the Sun?”

“That bad? Anyway, at least we don’t have need of him any more, not now that the proverbial ball is rolling. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that there are no further obstacles facing us. We’re free and clear. The PM’s agreed, in principle, to buy Solarville One and take out an option on the others. He’ll have to okay it with the Chancellor first, but that’s purely a formality.”

“Really? He likes the idea that much?”

“Doesn’t like it, as such, but recognises that it’s his least unpalatable option and best hope. I get the impression he senses it could be an election winner, too. It’s the sort of forthright, robust policy decision that might just halt his decline in the polls, perhaps even reverse it.”

The pathway they were following had led them to a small Gothic monument near the river bank, the Buxton Memorial Fountain. They stopped beside it while the bells of Parliament tolled twelve o’clock. It was the most pleasant day of the year yet, and the buds on the trees were pushing out their leaves like a choir breaking into song.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” said Slocock. “Labour getting in yet again. You’ll have wasted all that donation money, for one thing.”

“I told you at the time, a hundred K isn’t a big deal for me.”

“Two hundred, actually.”

“Even so. I dropped ten times that much on a Bugatti Veyron last week, and you know what? I’m probably never even going to drive it. I just had to have one—because I can.”

“You’re honestly saying you don’t care whether there’s a Conservative victory?”

“I’m above caring,” said Lambourne. “You don’t seem to appreciate, Giles, that for a man in my position, political partisanship is an irrelevance. Left, right, red, blue, it’s all the same to me. What counts is whether I have them in my pocket or not. As I do with our dear leader. We’re best buddies now. I’ve reinvigorated him with Solarville, given him a new lease of life. Brought him back from the dead, even. We’re firmly on track, he and I.”

“But I thought we were working towards putting the Tories back in charge.”

“A wise man hedges his bets. When circumstances change, one needs to be sure that one can change with them.



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