God's Country

Part Ten

'The Holy Bible is an abyss. It is impossible to explain how profound it is, impossible to explain how simple it is.'

Ernest Hello

"So...Charles...you have had some time to look at things...and to get your head around what we are really planning here...do you feel able to give us your considered opinions as yet, my friend?" Pastor Michael Winstanley asked as David Harrington poured his guest of honour another glass of wine. It was Sunday evening and the ladies, all tired after the exertions of earning God's love, had retired early to recover after a long day of prayer. The three leading lights of the Christian Reformist movement considered it the perfect time to talk to Charles in peace and quiet, without distractions.

"I can certainly try Michael...although I am not at all sure you are going to like what I have to say at this stage," Buckingham sighed, shifting rather awkwardly in his seat as he prepared to deliver what he realised would be a bitter pill for his clients to swallow. He was really very grateful to David Harrington, Paul Craig and Michael Winstanley in many ways. They had all helped him to a greater or lesser extent, and he knew that he was being offered a lifeline, both personally and professionally, but he was still terribly and perhaps fatally unsure. And he had Elizabeth to think about, too. As he often had in the past, he felt that if he did not have her to think of, to hold him back, to force him tom play safe, things might have been very different for him, but he did have her. There was no point in pretending otherwise. If his wife had not died things would have been different again, of course. Just the thought of her sent waves of grief coursing through his veins, and whatever way he looked at things he felt a failure. In the space of a few weeks Elizabeth's problems at school had reared their ugly head and he had been booted out of the only job he had ever wanted to do, probably forever. His decision to campaign for Boris Johnson and against Philip Henderson had been an honest one; he firmly believed that Henderson would be a disaster for the party, but ultimately his colleagues seemed to disagree. As a result, he would not be fighting any by-elections any time soon even if he was the prime candidate. He had lost, gambled and lost again, and his political career was as good as over. He could see no way back in the short term, and no politician could ever worry about the long-term. Which made it even harder to ignore a lifeline. It would have been so easy to take what his new friends were saying at face value and jump in with both feet like a drunk at a free bar, because the offer was generous and the financial support for the project undeniably impressive. Harrington and Craig were offering to bankroll the sort of activity any politician would find attractive, and if he played his cards right Buckingham would be at the centre of things, and a rich man whatever the outcome. But all of that counted for nothing to Charles Buckingham if there was no chance of success. He was not in politics to make his fortune. It would be like taking money under false pretences, and he could not do that in all conscience, not to people who had helped him so much already. He had accepted their fee for his opinions, but he was not going to say what they wanted to hear just because they were offering to pay him even more. "I believe your ambitions are laudable. I hope you know that my...interests...in your doctrine are genuine. I have already found a lot of personal comfort in it Michael and your advice has helped me a lot on a personal level...but if you truly think that this country is ready for a Christian Revolution on this scale I think you are sorely mistaken and you will just be wasting your money and time. It's simply impossible..."

"In what sense impossible Charles?" Paul Craig asked quite calmly, not taking offence. But Michael Winstanley was frowning straight away. Buckingham did not know them as well as he knew David Harrington, but he could sense the change of mood between them. He had first met Harrington at Westminster, at one of those dreadful lobbying events that every MP attended every once in a while, if only for the free food and booze. Charles could not even remember why he went to the British Technology Forum cocktail party because technology was not a subject he was particularly interested in, but he was lonely and bored and frustrated and he ended up talking to a handsome, engaging man who took him out to dinner afterwards so that they continue their conversation, which mostly involved his personal problems. It was just the right time. Buckingham had been bottling everything up for so long and Harrington offered a sympathetic ear, like any good Christian would, allowing Charles to talk about his wife, his concerns for his daughter and his increasingly empty life. He looked at David before replying as if he needed some reassurance.