INSIDE WESTMINSTER: TALES OF HUBRIS AND BETRAYAL

10

MEETING HIS MATCH

Sophia had asked her parents to come and help out as she was unfortunately between nannies. She hadn't missed Potty at all: the level of washing had diminished; there were fewer plates to wash up and she could also always find her deodorant. So only pluses.

She was also enjoying working out how she was going to truly shaft Potty. She'd despaired that he'd picked such a tart as Mandy Swinton-Eagle to set his cap at. All his previous bints had been decent girls at least but she'd recognised Mandy for what she truly was – a heartless wreaker who could manipulate gullible men with the beckoning of her finger. How maddening that she'd landed on Potty. He never could resist a hussy; all they had to be was passably pretty but this one – somehow she was different, and Sophia thought that Potty could really make a fool of himself over her.

Potty's plans to wed wife number 3 were put on hold as he went into overdrive and overkill. How was he going to get rid of Roger Roger's challenge? He knew he was as enthusiastic about anything to do with Brexit as he was and marvelled at the way Rogers had managed to do absolutely nothing for the whole period when he was in charge of negotiations. How he had got blamelessly away with being absolutely crap at his job was a mystery to Potty. Was it his rugged northern-ness that made people relate to him? He'd have to watch and learn.

Anyway, that was obstacle number one. There were no other serious contenders, no other charismatic 'poster boys', so Potty felt he was definitely still the Party's only choice, if it came to nominating a new leader. He had sneered at those who'd come to power unelected, using someone else's efforts as a slip stream to power but now it was his chance – well – somehow it was different.

With his newfound increase in ambition came an equal increase in his lust for Mandy. He'd have to make some definite arrangement for them to live together: would Willoughby oblige and let him use his pied a terre in Knightsbridge?

'Crikey!' ejaculated Potty. 'I forgot to pay the hotel bill. And I owe KJ £5000.'

What was to be done?

He'd get Mandy on the case of the unpaid bill as she could sweet-talk anyone and hopefully the Sri Lankan hotel manager was a man, so he'd be putty in her hands.

He'd have to call in on KJ and explain a few things; like where he'd been for the last five days.

As if by fate, a missed call from Willoughby Knight-Johnston flashed on Potty's iPhone as soon as he switched from flight-safe mode.

'Better get here quick, old chap. Fireworks have started. And where have you been? PM's been asking questions.'

Potty realised he had nowhere to stay and was running dangerously low on funds. As he needed urgently to liaise with KJ, possibly he could cadge a spare bed in Penn. And his nanny always had a ton of spare food.

Strangely Mandy had made excuses about having to see her parents to explain a few things so he was on his own.

'KJ, old man, sorry about the lack of comms but you know how it is.'

Willoughby definitely didn't know how things were and was beginning to lose patience with his friend. Yes, he'd let him stay the night but serious questions had to be answered. Brexit was getting out of hand and rival factions within the Party were in danger of messing the whole thing up. And where had Potty been?

'Blahbla,' Potty thought as he devoured a large helping of nanny's cassoulet, but said, 'research…comparing…'

He trailed off, almost swallowing the last bit of his explanation – all lies anyway – and was let off the hook as 3 large slobbery Labradors came charging through the kitchen door, knocking over several small KJs on their way to try and snaffle Potty's meal.

'Hey, hey, slow down you monsters,' cajoled Willoughby, rubbing each of the hound's wobbly jowels.

By the time the cries of the children had died down and the dogs pacified, the topic of Potty's absence had been forgotten. Potty hoped he'd have the same luck when challenged by the PM.

'PM's facing a bit of a bashing tomorrow,' said Willoughby.

'Tell me something new,' yawned Potty. 'I'm knackered, do you mind if I crash out?'

As polite and restrained as ever, KJ showed his uninvited guest where he was to sleep.

'Up early old chum. Better get to the House early to get some good seats.'

Potty couldn't wait to collapse into bed, wishing he could stay permanently in the Knight-Johnston household where order and calm – apart from the dogs – prevailed and where nanny reigned supreme.

'Better give Mandy a ring,' he thought. His calls went unanswered and he hoped she wasn't having too difficult a time explaining things to her parents.

Little did Potty know that Mandy had set her 'how to get your man' policy in motion and was actually with Juan in his sumptuous Knightsbridge hotel sipping cocktails before spending an orgiastic night in his gorgeously muscled arms.

'Yes, this is more like it,' `Mandy thought, ignoring Potty's attempts to call her.