night there was a different benefit or gala to attend, a constant parade of charities vying for his allegiance, all of them equally worthy in cause but he himself feeling like a shambled commodity. He attended so many, and with such frequency, that he wondered what integrity his presence even carried anymore. He couldn’t go. He knew that. He was in no mind to be around people, to smile politely and greet complete strangers with the same warmth he would extend to old friends. He needed to let Elaine know. She would be angry, he expected that, and ultimately she would attend without him, which meant that he could spend the evening alone, which was what he needed.
Charles had the receiver in his hand and was about to press the button which would link him to Faye’s desk when he paused. Normally, he would just ask Faye to connect him to his wife, and Faye would dutifully track her down. But Faye had left The Shadow in his office which meant that she knew about Lorna and suddenly Charles felt sheepish. He decided to bypass his assistant and called his home directly. After seven rings his wife answered, sounding clearly displeased to have done so.
‘Lloyd Residence,’ she said tersely down the line.
‘Darling, it’s me,’ Charles tried to keep his voice level and steady, attempting to mask his pain.
‘Charles! Why are you calling me? Is Faye off sick?’
‘No, no, Faye is fine just … busy,’ Charles lied.
‘Busy! Too busy to assist the Deputy Prime Minister?’ Elaine sounded genuinely outraged as she spoke. ‘That girl needs to sort her priorities out!’
‘Darling, its fine, I wanted to speak with you directly.’
‘Oh, I see, what a lovely surprise,’ Elaine’s anger momentarily thawed. ‘As much as I appreciate the call, dear, don’t you have a country to run?’ she said mockingly.
‘Oh, yes that’s right I do, thanks for the reminder!’ Charles joked back. ‘It is just a quick call darling, about the event tonight.’
‘Black tie as usual,’ Elaine answered, presuming the reasoning behind the call.
‘Actually I can’t make it.’ Charles braced himself for his wife’s response.
‘Charles, why ever not? I have promised the organisers that you will be there!’
‘I’m so sorry, darling, but something has come up.’
‘Something? What sort of something?’
‘You know that I can’t discuss those sorts of things with you.’ Charles didn’t enjoy hiding behind his job, but he had done it so many times before that the charade came naturally to him.
‘Right, well, fine. I will have to go though, to represent us,’ Elaine sighed into the receiver.
‘Thank you for understanding.’
‘Yes, well, being married to one of the most powerful men in the country can have its downsides you know, like having to deal with disappointments.’
‘As always, you conduct yourself with grace and poise my darling. I know that you will be an asset to the Lloyd dynasty tonight when you attend.’
‘Yes, yes,’ Elaine was smiling now as she spoke, Charles could tell. ‘I’d picked out the most wonderful Vera Wang dress to wear.’
‘I’m sorry but I must go, duty calls.’ As the conversation veered towards fashion Charles knew it was time to bail out.
‘Have fun tonight.’ He hung up, three last words sticking in his throat, refusing to be released. It had been years since he had signed off a phone call to his wife with the words, ‘I love you’.
Charles thought of the day which lay ahead of him, of the meetings he must attend, the smile he must fake for so many hours before he would be alone again. Until then, he had to push Lorna out of his mind but he knew that would be impossible. For months she had tormented his thoughts, lingered in all his dreams. He knew that even her death would not cease her from haunting him.
He read the tiny excerpt once more. Suicide. The word jumped out from the page, wretched and cruel. Charles failed to understand why a young woman so vivacious and brimming with youth and an insatiable lust for life could suddenly decide that she wanted to die. What could drive her to do something so drastic? Guilt suddenly pinched at the base of Charles’ neck. His own actions could have been responsible for this. He looked down at his hands and wondered if they were potentially drenched in her young blood?
A brisk knock upon his office door disturbed Charles’ thoughts. He shook his head, trying to dismiss the image of Lorna which had settled within his minds’ eye, and cleared his throat.
‘Come in.’
Faye entered his office. She always appeared alert and eager, like a kitten, constantly glancing around for something to do, seeking out any task or errand which needed her attention. But when she saw her boss her features saddened.
‘You saw the paper then,’ she said, bowing her head slightly in respect for the deceased.
‘Yes, thank you for bringing that to my attention.’ Charles tried to appear composed but inside he was starting to fall apart.
Faye Smith had worked for Charles Lloyd since he had first begun his political campaign. She had helped him progress to his current position and felt that she knew him well. She saw now that he was in pain, which was what she had expected would happen.
‘I’ve arranged for flowers to be sent to the family.’ she told him gently.
‘Thank you.’
Charles suddenly wished that he was a nobody. That way he could attend Lorna’s funeral and no one would care, his attendance would go unnoticed. But being somebody meant that if he went there, he would cause a sensation, and detract from the tragic girl within the coffin which would not be his intention at all.
‘Would you like another coffee?’ Faye asked. Charles merely shook his head, his eyes downcast, lost in thought.
Faye hesitated for a moment. She knew what she wanted to say, what Charles needed to hear, she was just unsure if in saying it she crossed a line which she should never stray over as his employee. But she saw his pain, and knew she had to ease it any way she could. Charles Lloyd was a good, kind man, which she knew from first-hand experience. She would not have him feeling any other way.
‘It’s not your fault, you know.’
Charles looked up at his assistant, grateful for her words even if he did not believe them himself.
‘The Ambassador has already arrived. Would you like me to stall the meeting?’ The moment between them had passed and Faye had resumed her role as assistant, effortlessly breaking away from counsellor and confidante.
‘No, no, I’ll be fine,’ Charles said, knowing that, outwardly at least, he would be presentable for his meeting.
‘Alright then.’ Faye removed herself from the office, wondering if she had made the right decision in placing the newspaper on his desk. Perhaps she could have softened the blow for him, but then she had no idea of protocol in these sorts of situations.
Charles closed the copy of The Shadow, sealing away the news of Lorna’s death. It pained him to see how little the media cared, the pittance of a piece she had been given. If they knew the truth, her suicide would have been sensationalized, so perhaps it was best that to them she was still a nobody. Now, only he and Faye knew the truth; that for six months, Lorna Thomas had been having an affair with the Deputy Prime Minister of England.
An affair to remember
The day flew by in a blur of insincere handshakes with intermissions of coffee. Charles felt like a zombie as he attended his morning meetings, going through the motions but feeling detached from