Part I.3
I.3
Ann Carruthers bustled into Jessica Chaple’s office, only to find it was occupied solely by her reseacher, Emma Norris. The girl was dressed far too casually, she judged, and the attempt at dreadlocks didn’t suit her English rose complexion. Manfully restraining the urge to comment, she said, ‘Get me Jessica, please.’
‘You know, I told her you were coming round,’ said Emma vaguely. ‘I tell you what, she’d forget her head if it wasn’t attached…’ Getting to her feet, she went to the door of the inner office and pounded on it, shouting, ‘JESSICA! Ms. Carruthers is here.’
Carruthers winced, both at the description of Jessica Chaple and at the volume of Emma’s voice. Forget her head, indeed! Most unlikely.
A moment later, the door opened, and Jessica emerged, pushing her auburn hair behind her shoulders, her green eyes narrowed in mild annoyance at the interruption. ‘Hello, Ann,’ she said. ‘I was just getting some last-minute things ready for Jack’s appearance tonight. How can I help you?’ Her strict demeanour was at complete odds with her researcher’s informality.
‘Emma, if you’d excuse us, please,’ Carruthers said, then at once changed her mind. ‘No, wait. Stay. I’d like your opinion.’ Turning to Jessica, she said, ‘James has just informed me that he’s considering you for a new position. I’m not supposed to tell you, but… What’s your feeling on that?’
Emma snorted. ‘What position?’
Glaring at the researcher, Carruthers answered, ‘Never you mind that. Jessica, would you be interested in taking on a new role?’
Again, it was Emma who answered, while Jessica remained silent. ‘Depends on the position, really, doesn’t it? Is it going to be a demotion, so to speak? Because I don’t think we’re interested in taking any backward steps at this point in the political process. Jessica’s ambitious, you know,’ she continued reflectively; ‘I’ve been with her four years now, and I can tell you she’d make a better partly leader than Cowerd any day, but dues have to be paid first. She’s willing to move, as long as she’s moving up—isn’t that right, Jess?’
‘For heaven’s sake, let her give her own answer,’ Carruthers snapped.
‘Of course,’ answered Emma deferentially, ‘but she’ll say the same thing.’
‘Enough, Emma, thank you,’ said Jessica at last.
‘Yes, well, I was only trying to help,’ said Emma. ‘I don’t want to see you make a mistake, if you see what I mean.’
‘Jessica,’ Carruthers interrupted loudly, ‘have you considered a move upwards?’
‘I honestly hadn’t thought about it,’ Jessica replied offhand.
‘Told you,’ Emma muttered.
‘You deserve a move,’ Carruthers said consideringly. ‘I think the electorate would be pleased to know someone like you was in the command chair in a rather more important department than Communications.’
‘Am I being considered for the ministry?’ Jessica asked, typically straightforward.
‘Well, no,’ Carruthers admitted, finally deeming it appropriate to sit down. The other two followed, settling themselves in chairs and watching her expectantly. ‘To be frank, then. Andrew Parnell has asked for you to be his second-in-command at the Treasury.’
‘Jessica, how marvellous!’ exclaimed Emma.
‘It’s a very attractive prospect,’ Carruthers agreed, watching Jessica appraisingly.
‘Oh, absolutely,’ nodded Emma. ‘He’s all right, is Andrew Parnell. A good man to work for.’
‘What do you say, Jessica?’ asked Carruthers. ‘He does his job well; you’d have a lot of opportunity to make an impact, too. Apparently, he’s asked for you especially. The word is that he thinks you’re being under-used in Communications. Cowerd asked him if there was anybody else he’d considered, and Parnell said you were the most intelligent, efficient MP we have.’ This was slight exaggeration, but she didn’t see any harm in a bit of innocent misrepresentation.
‘He’s quite right,’ averred Emma.
‘Well?’ Carruthers enquired. ‘Could you work for him, do you think?’
Jessica deliberated for a long moment, fiddling with a ring on her little finger. ‘I don’t know,’ she said finally. ‘I’ve never really spoken to him. But you seem to think it’s a good idea…’ She trailed off.
At that moment, the email notification sounded on the computer. Emma swirled round in her chair and fiddled with the screen for a moment. ‘Cowerd’s asked everybody to his club for Question Time tonight,’ she reported. Scrutinising the screen again, she added, ‘And I mean everybody. Liberation, too.’
‘How odd,’ said Carruthers, puzzled. ‘But never mind. Jessica, you can speak to Andrew tonight, then. An excellent opportunity.’ She stood up. ‘I’ll let you get back to work. See you tonight.’
When she had gone, Emma turned to her employer and said, ‘Ooh, a party! What are you going to wear?’
Jessica rolled her eyes exaggeratedly and smiled at her researcher affectionately. ‘What I have on, I should imagine.’ She smoothed down her suit. ‘When I’m finished here, I’m going to the pub. Can you man the office this afternoon?’
‘Of course,’ Emma replied, grinning, and turned back to the computer conscientiously.