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He waited until Colin had taken it and looked inside before continuing. Somehow he managed a smile and handed over a brown envelope to his guest. So sure, so confident as if nothing could stop him.
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So full of himself and his self importance. Trust you are well? So what's this about? What's so important we can't speak on the telephone?"Ĭyril stared at him. He formed quite the contrast to the ultra fit, ultra slim dark haired go getter that had come to see him.Ĭolin didn't wait to be asked and just sat himself in the leather chair across from Fletcher's desk. He was in his fifties but looked older and really was not in great shape considering, a few too many pies and pints. All puffed up, fat and pompous and slightly silly looking. That was all Colin recalled of the conversation and now he went over the words one last time before he knocked on the door and Fletcher's ageing secretary admitted him while exiting herself.įletcher resembled a bullfrog. Can't discuss on the phone, you never know who may be listening". "Important information that should help your career. Colin had made a few comments himself but no more than anyone else and doubted the old fool would hold a grudge.įletcher's phonecall had been suitably cryptic. He managed to keep his seat but lost his power and position and was now a toothless debater in The House as all the younger pups knew exactly the buttons to push to either embarrass him or anger him. That is until he was forced to resign after a Sunday paper ran an expose of his liking for 'rent boys'. Fletcher had been an important figure himself not so long ago, a member of the Labour Party's old guard and a Minister in the last Government. So with all this confidence and his natural bravado, why was he apprehensive about this meeting he was about to have? He couldn't quite put his finger on why there was just something about being invited to Cyril Fletcher's office that did not bode well. Tall, handsome and very sharply dressed he was getting noticed by all the right people and he, himself believed he could well be a Conservative Prime Minister within the next decade. He was starting to develop quite the celebrity reputation as well, a burgeoning romance with a famous model got him plenty of publicity while his work in Parliament was starting to get him mentions when talk of future cabinet openings were mentioned. He had been an elected member of parliament for six years and was into his second term with a healthy majority and still only 31 years old. Or so he thought, but with some justification as it was the description given to him by one of the leading broadsheet newspapers less than a year ago. Colin Young was the future of British politics.