‘Then why did he get caught killing Polly’s brother?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe Polly’s telling the truth about that and Ed is innocent. Whatever happens tonight, I have to find out what really happened. I don’t know how, but I will. Until then, stay away from him.’
‘In case he takes his revenge through you?’
‘He won’t get near me again,’ Sarah said. ‘Once I go back to the committee rooms, there’ll be people with me every minute of the day. But he knows where to find you. Be careful. And hold me, please.’
Awkwardly, he put his arm around her shoulders, then nuzzled his head against hers. He began to kiss her hair, then her neck. Sarah’s mobile rang. She answered it. Winston.
‘I’ll be on my way in a minute. Oh, I’ll have fish and chips with everyone else, it’s a campaign tradition, isn’t it? No, I’m fine. It’s just a bad line. See you in five.’
She looked at Nick. ‘Promise me you won’t get into any more trouble today. And that you’ll come to the party. I want you to take me home tonight.’
‘Yes, please,’ he said, and kissed her again, a long, full-throated kiss.
‘Oh, and I know you don’t live in my constituency, but don’t forget to vote.’
Nick replied with a regretful smile. Of course, he’d been in prison too recently to have registered. He didn’t have a vote.
30
At the count, boxes were opened and ballot slips sorted. All four Nottingham constituencies were being counted in the same hall. Old hands like Sarah could quickly tell where the election was heading. Within an hour, she would know the result to the nearest thousand votes. Her majority in the by-election had been five thousand, but that was on a huge anti-government swing. Previous Tory majorities had been in five figures.
Winston gave Sarah his hipflask and sent her to sit in the TV room.
‘Long night ahead.’
Exit polls showed New Labour on course for a comfortable victory. There was a brief piece on how the face of the House Of Commons would change if Labour won big. The place would be younger, with far more women: an exciting prospect, if you were going to be there. With so many women on board, Tony was bound to promote a few. Sarah might have had a chance of joining the government. Nothing flashy, but something responsible: pensions, perhaps, or a junior Health minister.
‘Looking good, eh?’ Tony Bax said, winking at her. ‘Do they need us out there yet?’
‘In a few minutes,’ Sarah said.
There were too many people in the TV room, so Sarah wandered through the dingy sports hall until she found the ladies’. When she returned to the hall, she stood at the back, watching the watchers. Easier to do this than gawp at TV and have to discuss what she saw. The counters began to empty the ballot boxes.
‘Have you seen the exit polls?’ One of the volunteer scrutineers whispered. ‘They’re predicting a majority of eighty to ninety.’
Sarah nodded unenthusiastically.
‘What do you reckon?’ Winston asked.
The votes were being put into piles for each party.
‘Not sure,’ she said, unwilling to believe the evidence of her own eyes. ‘We haven’t seen anywhere near enough yet.’
Winston stared at the growing piles, counting votes the way a professional gambler counted cards. ‘West’s too close to call,’ he told her. ‘If the vote’s like this everywhere, we’re talking about a landslide.’
Nick had the radio on. The first results weren’t far away. He’d taken a couple of councillors he knew from way back to the Labour workers’ party at Trent University’s student union building. Neither of them had recognised him. Nick had fallen through the invisible net that separated the connected from the unconnected. He’d felt this way when he was sixteen. Then he’d gone to university and become someone.
Could he reinvent himself? Joe had managed it. Andrew too. Nick could start again, but it would have to be somewhere new. The decision was beginning to harden in his mind.
He was being called on the radio.
‘Nick?’ Stuart’s voice was agitated. ‘Know where Joe is?’
‘At the Labour Party do. Probably plastered by now.’
‘Right, I’ll send someone to try and find him.’
‘Don’t you want me to . . .?’
‘No. Get over to his house. Caroline’s gone into labour. You’d better run her to the hospital, pronto.’
Nick accelerated. When he got to Sherwood, Caroline was in the hall, leaning on the end of the banister. Her waters had broken.
‘I don’t want to mess up Stuart’s cab,’ Caroline groaned, holding out an old beach towel. ‘Spread this across the back.’
Nick took the towel then helped her into the car. The hospital was only a two-minute drive.
‘Where’s Joe?’ she asked, once she was settled in. ‘His mobile’s off.’
‘On his way,’ Nick said, though that was presuming Joe really was at the election do and not still in bed with Nas. Caroline moaned. Nick drove fast.
‘Over there.’
They entered City Hospital and turned towards the maternity unit. Nick sounded his horn. Caroline had already rung them. She was expected.
‘You’ll be all right now,’ he said.
‘Nick? Stay until Joe arrives, please?’
‘Of course I will,’ Nick said, though being in on the birth was the last thing he felt like doing. He spoke into the radio. ‘Where’s Joe? Was he at the do?’
‘If he’s there, they haven’t found him yet. We’ll keep looking.’
Nick swore. Behind him, he heard a siren. Why would they need sirens inside a hospital? He parked and opened the door for Caroline, had to help her out. When someone tapped his shoulder, he thought it would be a nurse. It wasn’t.
‘Is this your cab, sir?’ the officer asked.
‘Not now,’ Caroline moaned.
Two porters were coming. The policeman was reaching over the driver’s seat, peering at the ID tag hung beneath the rear-view mirror. Luckily, Nick had replaced Stuart’s tag with Joe’s when he took the car.
‘You’re Joseph Cane?’
The nurse spoke at the same time. ‘Is that the father?’
‘No,’ Caroline moaned. ‘It’s my brother-in-law.’
‘Are you Joseph Cane?’ The officer repeated.
Had the policeman heard Caroline? Nick didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have time for this, but it began to dawn on him that he could be in trouble. Even a small infringement of the law could break his parole and send him back to prison. He must stay cool. When in doubt, Nick had long since figured out, it was always best to tell the truth.
‘No. I’m his brother. Joe isn’t around and his wife’s in labour. That’s why . . .’
Caroline was being wheeled away and couldn’t confirm or deny any story he told.
‘So you’re driving this cab illegally?’
‘I wasn’t charging her, for Christ’s sake! Look, she might drop the little bugger at any minute, so if you don’t mind leaving it for now . . .’
The officer smiled firmly. ‘You did just break the speed limit. So, a couple more questions, if you don’t mind. You say that you haven’t been driving this cab for hire?’
‘No.’
‘So who was observed driving it earlier this evening, outside Trent Students’ Union and later on Gregory Boulevard?’
Nick began to sweat. ‘That would be my brother.’
‘When did you take over from him?’
‘I gave him a lift then brought the car back to his at about eleven.’
‘So you dropped him at an election party then went home to look after his wife? Have I got that straight?’
‘Sort of.’
‘Your brother wears glasses, I see, unlike you.’
Nick hadn’t had time to get the clear-lensed pair from home, which was probably a good thing. He would only get in deeper. This was worse than he’d feared. They knew that he’d been driving a cab for hire. He’d definitely broken the terms of his probation. Once they found out who he was, he’d be back inside.