house of cards 1

Chapter 8

My old servant once taught me an important lesson in the moor.I will never forget this lesson.I was a kid then, maybe eight years old.But if you think about it for yourself, it is at that age that the lessons learned will be hidden deep in your heart and have a significant impact on you.

He said to me, if you must suffer, let it be the most irresistible, the most intense, so that the other person knows that you will do him far more harm than he can do you More serious and more terrifying.Of course, the "other party" that the old servant said was the wild dog.But this is also good advice in the political arena.

Friday, June [-]

The crowd in Smith Square grew dramatically, with supporters, opponents and the mere curious all awaiting the arrival of the prime minister.The clock has already struck midnight, but on a night like this, the biological clock has to be adjusted to the max.Onlookers could see from the monitors of television technicians that the prime minister's escort, preceded by a police motorcycle vanguard and followed by a camera van, had left for a long time and was now approaching London's landmark Marble Arch.With less than 10 minutes to go at this pace, the party has hired three young cheerleaders who are performing a series of patriotic songs and chants to warm up the crowd that is about to cheer.

They have to work harder than any other election night in the past.Because everyone waved the huge Union Jack with special enthusiasm, but few people waved the huge and carefully framed photo of Henry Collingridge.This was just passed from the party headquarters from the foyer.Some in the crowd were holding portable radios and broadcasting the election results to those around them, looking uninspiring.Even the cheerleaders occasionally stopped to sit around and discuss the news that had just been broadcast.There was also an air of confrontation in the square, as some opposition supporters, emboldened by the rumors, decided to sneak into the crowd and are now waving their flags and chanting their own slogans.Half a dozen police officers ran into the crowd to make sure the emotions on both sides didn't get out of control.A police car with another dozen officers in it was parked just around the corner of Tufton Street.The instruction given above is to be there, but not to interfere rashly.

The computer is now predicting a government with a majority of 28 seats.The two cheerleaders stopped working and began to seriously discuss whether such a small majority was enough to make a difference.They came to the conclusion that it should be okay, so they went back to work.But the spirit is obviously a lot of fatigue, the initial enthusiasm is getting less and less, and everyone has become worried.It was decided to save their spirits till Henry Collingridge came.

Inside the building, Charles Collingridge drank more and more drunk.A high-ranking member of the party installed him in the chairman's office, seated him in a comfortable armchair with a portrait of his younger brother directly above his head.And Charles got a bottle of wine out of nowhere.His furry face was covered with sweat, his eyes were cloudy and bloodshot. "Good man, brother Henry is a good man and a great prime minister." He lamented inarticulately.No doubt the alcohol had begun to take hold of his speech system, leaving him tongue-tied.Still, he repeats his family history over and over again. "He could have taken over the family business, you know? Make it one of the really big companies in the UK. But he's been more interested in politics since he was a kid. I'll tell you, I've never been into making bathroom fittings. But it'll make Dad happy. You know they even import that red stuff from Poland now? Is it Poland or Romania..."

He let go of his hand and knocked the remaining whiskey in the glass onto his pants, thus interrupting the soliloquy.After a flurry of apologies, party chairman Lord Williams jumped at the chance and walked away.His wise old man's eyes gave nothing away, but he did resent having to entertain the Prime Minister's brother.Charles Collingridge was not a bad man, never mean, but he was a weak man, always repulsive.Williams, on the other hand, likes to be strict and strictly abide by the rules.But the elderly professional party worker was a seasoned navigator, and he knew there was no point in throwing the brother of the "fleet commander" overboard.There was one time when he put the question squarely to the Prime Minister, wanting to discuss the growing rumors and cynicism about the elder brother.He has been recognized as an excellent "sailor" since before the Thatcher government, and he is also one of the rare ones who have persisted since then, so he has this qualification, or some people will say, he has the responsibility to care about this matter .But his efforts were completely in vain.

"Half my time I spend my life murdering money, that's my job," the prime minister said pleadingly. "Please don't make me bled my own brother."

The Prime Minister swore to him that he would make Charles watch his words and deeds, or that he would personally supervise what his brother did.But apparently he would never find time to take care of this brother.And he also knows that Charles promises everything without hesitation, but in fact he is becoming less and less able to do what he says.Henry doesn't preach, doesn't get angry, and knows full well that other members of his family are under more political pressure than he is.It was somehow his fault.Williams understands that too, hasn't he been married three times since first moving to Westminster nearly 40 years ago?Politics is a thing that always does a lot of collateral damage, leaves a trail of pain, and tortures politicians' families endlessly.Williams felt a sting as he stared at Collingridge's back as he staggered out of the room, but he suppressed it immediately.Empathy won't help you run a party.

Michael Samuel is the DOC official and the newest and most photogenic member of the cabinet.He came over to greet the political old-timer.He is very young, young enough to be the chairman's son, and he can be regarded as within the scope of the old man's "protecting the calf".On the slippery "Ministerial Rising Bar", Williams helped him take his first big step up.As a young MP at the time, he was appointed Private Secretary to Parliament on the recommendation of Williams.It's the most thankless job in Parliament, and it doesn't pay much.It is equivalent to being a servant of a high-ranking official, who has to help him serve tea and water, and deal with daily chores, without any complaints or questions.But these are the qualities that the prime minister values ​​very much when choosing candidates for promotion.With Williams' help, he rose through the ministerial ranks.The friendship between the two has always been strong.

"Any questions, Teddy?" Samuel asked.

"The prime minister can choose his friends and cabinet members," the old man sighed, "but he cannot choose his own relatives."

"It's like sometimes we can't choose who to sleep with."

Samuel nodded towards the door.Urquhart had just driven up from his constituency with his wife and entered the door of the chairman's office.Samuel gave him a cold look. He didn't like Urquhart.This man did not support his promotion to the Cabinet, and more than once he was heard to compare Samuel to "a modern-day Disraeli, with a good skin, clever but misunderstood".

He had a strong dislike for him in his heart, and felt that he might be a little anti-Semitic, and sometimes he couldn't hide his face.But Williams gave this young talent who started out as a lawyer very pertinent advice. "Francis is right," he said, "don't look too smart; don't look too smug. Don't be too liberal on social issues; don't be too brilliant on economics."

"You mean I stop acting like a Jew?"

"Also, you have to be careful and watch out for back arrows behind you."

"Don't worry, we Jews have been doing this for 2000 years."

Now, as the crowd swarmed Urquhart and Mrs. toward him, Samuel looked far from enthusiastic. "Good evening, Francis. Hello, Mortimer." Samuel forced a smile. "Congratulations. A majority of seventeen thousand votes. You don't see that kind of victory. I think there will be sixteen thousand votes tomorrow morning." A hundred congressmen will be jealous of you."

"Howdy Michael! Well, I'm so glad you've got the women voters in Surbiton again. Well, really, it would be nice if you could get their husbands' votes too, so your majority would be As much as me!"

The joke made the two chuckle softly, both of whom made it a habit to hide their discomfort with each other.The laughter quickly turned to silence, and neither of them could think of a good way to end the conversation quickly.

Williams, who had just put down the phone, saved them, "Sorry to interrupt your conversation, but Henry will be here soon."

"I'll go down with you to meet you." Urquhart immediately offered to apply.

"What about you, Michael?" Williams asked.

"I'll just wait here. It'll be crowded when he arrives, and I don't want someone to step on me from behind."

(End of this chapter)