Thank you very much to everyone who has taken the time to review. I appreciate it more than I can say!
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Attempting to focus on the policy plans that Stewart had returned for her to redraft, Natalie considered the pros and cons of being right or centre right on social issues when she thought of the kisses she had shared with Malcolm. It had been impossible to focus on anything other than her last meeting with him with the exception of work until now, and so she spent every possible moment of the previous fortnight working. Emma had expressed concern for her wellbeing and Stewart had suggested that she enjoy some "down time", but Natalie knew that if she thinking seriously about her feelings for Malcolm would be her undoing. Her phone started to ring, and for a split second she found herself hoping that it was the labour party spin doctor. She lifted it from her bag and answered.
"Hello?" She kept the disappointment from her voice after catching sight of Peter's caller ID, determined to cease thinking about Malcolm Tucker.
"Hi Natalie, you're sitting at your desk, yes?" She kicked the partition so that she wheeled backwards and waved at Peter, forcing herself to smile as he returned the gesture. "Well your enthusiasm is always appreciated, but I think it would be better if.... how did Stewart phrase it.... if you didn't burn out. So you can have tonight off; relax, listen to some Beethoven or... whatever young people like."
"Thank you, Peter." Although he was often incompetent to the extent that he created more work for her, and as a result got on her nerves, it was nice to know that her boss was concerned about her. "But I'd rather not."
"Why not?" Peter was bewildered by her unwillingness to accept the offer of some extra time off, but it wasn't as though she was in a position to tell the truth- 'sorry Peter, but I can't stop dreaming about the government's director of communications; you see, we kissed and I liked it' wasn't an option. Natalie improvised.
"I enjoy my work and there's a lot of it to be done, therefore I'm happy to keep going." She suppressed the urge to roll back into the familiar confines of her office space in order to avoid Peter's scrutiny. Lying to him wasn't something she enjoyed. He sighed audibly through the line.
"Well I think that it would be in your best interests to have a break tonight. Maybe we could see about extending your project for the campaign against ID cards. If you come to my office with your stuff tomorrow then we can talk over your points because I can't risk going off message if all this becomes official." Peter was wiser than they often gave him credit for being. He was shrewd enough to know that Natalie's work against ID cards was particularly important to her due to her beliefs on the issue itself, but also because it gave her an opportunity to make an impression on the members of the Shadow Home Office.
"Alright, thank you Peter. That would be excellent." She ended the call and returned to work with enthusiasm until lunch time. If the people at the Shadow Home Office were impressed by what she produced, then if all went well she would move on to better things. Feeling happier than she had for days, Natalie decided to see if Emma felt like going for lunch. When they had just started, Emma at International Development and Natalie at the Scottish Office, they had eaten together every day and marvelled over the scale of the opposition, dreamed of life in government and been glad of having a friend nearby on whom to rely on through the ups and downs of internal party politics. Despite their move to the same department they had started spending less time together over lunch as they became accustomed to the step up in the level of work expected. Now DoSaC had become humdrum to Natalie, and she didn't know if Emma felt the same way about it or not. She was used to the humble department and wanted a taste of something more. Picking up her handbag, Natalie headed around the desk. Emma was seated at her desk looking suitably bored as she stared at a blank screen, the slump of her shoulders alerting Natalie to the fact that something was wrong.
"Oh, hi Natalie." Although she managed a feeble smile it was obvious that Emma wasn't especially happy. "Have you finished the thing about the.... about the smaller schools?"
"I finished it three days ago- it should be in your pigeon hole." It was unusual to see Emma, renowned for her practicality, so unaware of what was happening around her. She watched as her friend reached into the red tray with both hands and withdrew a thick pile of folders.
"Oh god... I can't believe I didn't notice these." Emma cradled her head in her hands, looking at the pile through the gaps made by her fingers. "How could I have missed this?" Natalie was wondering how she could have missed her closest friend being so badly affected by something that it was causing problems with work.
"What's the matter Emma? Would you like to talk about it over lunch?" Natalie realised how much she had missed eating out with her friend. It was always good to have someone to discuss your problems with that wasn't liable to stab you in the back, but she knew that it would be unwise to mention having so much as a single thought about Malcolm Tucker.
"Yeah, that would- that'd be great." Emma shook her head in disbelief and stood, shrugging on a light jacket. Feeling a strong sense of déjà vu, they walked down the stairs and made light conversation on their way to a pizza place they had one frequented regularly. Once they were seated and their orders had been taken, Natalie decided that the time for questioning was ripe.
"So what's the matter? Is it something about work or something else?" She watched as Emma frowned slightly and toyed with the paper napkin. There had been a time when she wouldn't have hesitated to share her concerns, a time when Natalie would have noticed that something was bothering Emma sooner without having it spelled out for her.
"It's Ollie. We're going nowhere. It was fun at first but now I'm tired of it all." Natalie smiled sympathetically and squeezed her friend's hand, trying not to recall her most recent brush with Malcolm and his use of a similar gesture.
"What will you do? Have you told him?" Emma shook her head in response looking slightly guilty. "Then you need to let him know how you feel Em, otherwise it isn't fair on either of you."
"You're right. Of course." There was a lull in their conversation as the waiter set out the food they had ordered. "I'll tell him as soon as possible." Already she looked happier for her newfound conviction- much more like the woman Natalie knew to be her best friend.
"What about tonight?" Natalie knew that a clean break was exactly what Emma needed is she was to recover the focus that made her so great at her job. If only her own love life was so simple, but thoughts of Malcolm were never far from the front of her mind. She tried not to think of him, catching the tail end of Emma's response as they started eating.
"...and then we have the Radio 1 thing, remember? Who's not paying attention now?" Only Emma could ever catch her out when her thoughts wandered. It was a little frustrating, but it was good to see her friend resurfacing.
"Caught me, I'm sorry. So why not ask Peter for the night off?" t had been just as long if not longer since Emma had taken the evening off, and it was only fair that she was granted the same privileges as Natalie.
"You think he'd let me leave him with Phil for company?" Emma scoffed before taking a bite of her garlic bread. "Not bloody likely."
"I'll have a word with him- see if he'll take me there instead of you. I got given the night off, but I have so much stuff to do." No matter how much time Natalie spent working, there was always something else to be done. But nothing was ever exactly the same, and the ever changing landscape was one of the things she liked best about working in politics.
"No way, you've been taking on far too much. I know you want a promotion, but you still need to take care of yourself." Natalie vowed that she would never neglect her friendship with Emma again.
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In the end Peter gave both Emma and Natalie the night off, too worn down by Stewart's afternoon's worth of pep talks to fully comprehend what he was agreeing to. Ollie had arrived and started cooking not long after they had returned to the flat for the evening, and with a whispered wish of good luck to her oldest friend Natalie left with her laptop and headed for the nearest cafe in search of food, peace and quiet. Starbucks was no longer on the menu, but she found a relaxed little place near a park that played jazz music and served toasted Paninis.
Natalie had eaten dinner and was looking up the link to listen to the Murray/Mannion debate through her laptop, wondering how Peter was coping with the company he was keeping. The opening wasn't too bad and she couldn't help but laugh when Nicola rambled about piercings. She sipped the dregs of her coffee, enjoying the time to herself, when her phone started to ring. Pulling the earphones out, she answered and was not overly thrilled by hearing Stewart's voice.
"Hi Natalie, I'm sorry but we need you at the BBC. Peter isn't exactly on the same book as us, never mind the page, and he actually seems to listen to you, so it would be great if you could mosey on over. It's a three way street as I'm sure you'll appreciate." The line went dead, leaving her wondering what he had meant by his parting statement. Who still said 'mosey'? Packing her laptop into the backpack she carried, Natalie slung it over her shoulder and phoned a taxi, leaving a tip on the wooden counter. In the cab the taxi driver chortled over the Richard Bacon show.
"What wankers they are, discussing bankers' wages as though they ain't expenses fiddlers and all." She agreed readily with him and allowed the disastrous debate to drown out the mundane chatter, unhappy that Peter's incompetence was interrupting the first time to herself without thoughts of Malcolm in a fortnight. Nicola Murray's voice filled the car, droning about 'inspiring people out of poverty'. As far as Natalie was concerned she may as well suggest feeding people out of obesity. Irritated by the prospect of a dull and stressful evening in the BBC, she blew her bangs out of her face and looked determinedly out of the window. "You don't like them politicians then."
"They have their moments." The cab drew to a halt outside the BBC car park and Natalie handed over the appropriate cash. As the radio show deteriorated her determination to help Peter increased exponentially. Doubtlessly Phil was cheering the generic catchphrases he had helped Peter to learn instead of working out what to suggest next to salvage the damage, which only served to increase the amount needing done.
"So what you doing here then, darlin'?" She had to go before he realised her purpose and attempted to conduct an interview.
"My job." Before he could ask any more, Natalie quit the taxi and marched briskly towards the towering building, the cool night air refreshing. She was tempted to jump across the security barricade when the receptionist spend a ridiculous length of time getting the appropriate paperwork for her, as there was no telling what kind of mistakes Peter had made since she had left the cab. At times this job could be highly frustrating. Giving up on dignity, she ran up the two flights of stairs and gave silent thanks to whoever had invented deodorant.
Phil's agonised shouting could be heard from around the corner, and she followed the cries to their source wondering what could have inflicted this kind of pain. The only thing that sprung to mind was Malcolm, but there had never been an incident of him carrying out a physical threat, had there? She ignored the stab of excitement at the thought of seeing him again. Maybe he would kiss her. But why had he kissed her in the first place? Her internal argument was halted by the sight of Phil waddling through the corridor, hands on the vicinity of his crotch.
"Natalie, how's it going?" She couldn't help but stare as steam rose from his damp trousers. "You always knew it was hot down there." Natalie continued towards a cramped room that contained Emma, Glenn and Terry. Emma was sitting with an open notepad writing furiously. She gave Natalie a wan smile and rolled her eyes towards the radio.
"Why are Phil's trousers wet?" She whispered so as not to interrupt the radio sitting in the corner. Emma gave her a blank look in response and patted the seat beside her. They ignored the way Terry was staring for as long as possible and didn't look in Glenn's general direction. "There was even steam coming off them. Has he had another accident?" They both laughed as quietly as they could manage.
"The poor thing. I thought he was just being rude earlier, but maybe he was stressed because of his condition. My sister-in-law has a weak bladder, and I'm sure she'd be happy to offer Phil some advice strictly off record." All Natalie could think of was the shrine dedicated to her boss when Terry spoke, causing her to subconsciously shrink back into the plush red couch. Was she really too stupid to pick up on humour?
"No, Phil doesn't have a weak bladder but Peter has a problem." Instantly she had Terry's complete attention, the intensity of the older woman's stare making Natalie want to hide behind the plush red couch. "He has a stalker, a sad middle aged woman who wants to give him fillatio- he calls her 'The Useless One'. So what can you do to help us fix that?" Natalie didn't receive an answer as Emma's raucous laughter lasted until the music that announced a break played, causing both of them to sigh with relief as it meant that Peter could get himself into no more hot water. They made their way out of the room only to come face to face with Ollie. "I'll leave you two be." She headed back towards an isolated couch and pulled out her laptop, sitting cross legged and scanning responses on the BBC page and planning a way to turn general opinion in a sympathetic direction.
"Well, look at this little cluster of excellence." Stewart sauntered through the corridor, looking perfectly relaxed despite Peter's alarming case of motor-mouth syndrome. He looked through the window beside her and scratched his bald head. "I'm thinking that the proverbial door has been locked with our guy on the other side, at least for tonight."
"It'll work out in the end- it always does." He nodded and patted her on the shoulder, a gesture Natalie found utterly condescending. She wondered if Stewart believed her words any more than she did.
She had written down some figures that Peter could use to make Nicola come out worse from the interview and had stood to deliver them when Malcolm rounded the corner. For a split second their eyes met before Natalie could look away, and she tried not to lick her lips as she recalled the way in which he had kissed her- that she didn't flush was too much to ask for. Her heartbeat remained accelerated once he had disappeared into the producer's room. There was no sign of Ollie and Emma was peering anxiously into the broadcast room, so it was most likely safe to join her. They listened companionably as the exchange grew more and more problematic, and Natalie found herself rooted to the spot even though she knew Malcolm could turn around at any second and see her.
Typical of her luck, something worse happened. He opened the door despite the protests of the producer and wrapped a hand around her wrist. The idea that he was going to kiss her again, this time publically, made Natalie feel ill. Instead he pulled her into the room and Emma followed, concern etched onto her features. She was acutely conscious of Malcolm breathing and moving nearby, and the place where he had grasped her tingled fiercely. She barely heard as Stewart read the incriminating text from the screen, and when Malcolm's hand brushed her side as he ushered everyone from the room her stomach turned.
"Are you alright?" Emma pulled her into a discreet corner of the room, her blue eyes full of concern. "I know you were looking forward to having a night off, and this must be a disappointment, especially when you've spent so much of your time working recently." It was almost impossible for Natalie to keep from sighing in relief that her strange behaviour couldn't be linked to Malcolm.
"Never mind me, did Ollie get the message?" She feigned interest as Emma answered, fighting the urge to sneak glances at Malcolm. The appeal of him wasn't one that Natalie understood, but it was undeniably there.
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Trailing behind Emma and Ollie and doing her best to ignore their argument, Natalie pulled her jumper more tightly around herself and thought with regret of the bath she could have been having, had things turned out differently. She listened to the conversation between Malcolm and the others as they left the BBC studios.
"He'll bounce back. You'll see. It'll be like when Frodo recovers after going to Mordor and sails away with the elves: he'll be back in the cabinet after the election and-" Phil's rapture was cut short by Malcolm's acerbic wit.
"You know, your guy does remind me of "Lord of the Rings", and I think this one's called "The Return of the Cunt". There's even going to be a fucking trilogy of mistakes before it's Goodnight Mister Fucking Tom; the love child, this radio mess and after the next one it's all over for him, eh? The fucking end." Ollie was too depressed by his recent return to being single to laugh, and Glenn looked about as cheerful as a manic depressive. Talk of Peter's shelf life reminded Natalie that she needed to move onwards before her boss was declared past it otherwise she would essentially be back where she had started upon taking the job, her word no longer golden.
"Say what you like Malcolm, but he'll last a lot longer than Ruby Gloom up there. Night all." Stewart saluted them before unchaining his bike from a fence and cycling off into the night, clad in a fluorescent jacket. She watched as Emma stepped into the nearest waiting taxi, Phil hot on her heels and gesturing crudely towards Ollie, and closed the door behind her, the annoyance she would feel at being left behind dramatically outweighed by the spark of something unidentifiable at a chance to speak to Malcolm. She watched from the shadows as Glenn offered Ollie a lift home, knowing that despite the friction between them the two men cared for one another.
"Well?" Malcolm didn't turn around but he certainly knew that she was there. Once Glenn's car had vanished from sight, she took a few steps towards him, unsure of how to progress.
"I... uh..." Being alone with him, Natalie found that her uncertainties about his motives were impossible to quash. The more she considered starting anything with him, the more foolish it seemed.
"What is this, the fucking 'Curious Incident of the Tory in the Night-Time'? Out with it."
"Happy birthday, Malcolm." She didn't even have to look at him to know that Malcolm was rolling his eyes in exasperation, nor could she blame him, but Natalie didn't know how else to proceed and it was better to test the ground before stepping onto it. Tentatively she approached him, wondering whether to touch his arm or do something that would require a confirmation of what was between them.
"See if you're not jumping out of a fucking cake, I really don't want to hear it, right? In fact I'd rather go back up there and listen to the sound of a fucking toilet flushing Nicola and Mannion away to a place from which it's doubtful that even I could fucking help them out of." Malcolm's tone gave no indication of what he was thinking, and the glance he gave her was so brief that it may well never have taken place. For a few moments Natalie observed the contours of his face, not stopping when the corner of his mouth quirked in amusement doubtlessly derived from the uncharacteristic boldness of her actions. Emboldened by the lack of rebuke, she slipped her arm through his and was gratified when Malcolm pulled her a fraction closer as they started towards the exit of the car park.
"So how old are you today?"
"Fifty." Malcolm tensed by her side, more concerned than he cared to admit about what she was going to say. But Natalie didn't say anything for several moments, instead lost in thought, a pensive look clouding her eyes.
"I have an idea. Come with me." Natalie felt giddy when he complied and was surprised by his lack of resistance, so much so that she turned to face him. "What, don't you trust me?"
"Hmm." Malcolm's face was unreadable to her. It dawned on her that he felt awkward about his age.
"I know just how we can celebrate, come on. Fifty years is a landmark!" She tugged on his arm leading them across the street and in the direction of a small corner shop, unaware of Malcolm's thoughts. He wasn't aware of what she was planning but he certainly had ideas of his own. As they travelled through the streets, quiet between the evening rush home and the surge of Friday night urban party goers, Natalie wanted to know what he felt about having kissed her. They reached the small shop without further incident. "Wait here?"
"Why, so you can leave me standing here like a fucking lonely lemon bastard?" His teasing smile was strangely endearing.
"Maybe I will." Backing into the shop, Natalie flashed him an enigmatic smile. As she disappeared from view Malcolm knew with certainty that she would be back. He paced back and forth outside of the shop, waiting for Natalie to return and wondering how far he could progress with her. Minutes later she returned, a carrier bag in hand and a look of slight uncertainty on her face.
"Listen, how would you like to come back to my place? Just for a coffee." He waited and scrutinised her face, watching as Natalie weighed up the pros and cons of each option.
"Alright, yeah. That would be nice." It wasn't a great distance to his house, and so Malcolm led the way, remaining silent to allow Natalie time to consider her affirmative decision. He took her bad in one hand and grasped her fingers with the other before they crossed a busy junction and didn't let go until they reached the door of his home. Natalie hesitated on the threshold, focussed intently on her shoes. Placing a hand underneath her chin, Malcolm tilted her head upwards and forced Natalie to meet his gaze.
"I'll walk you home if you'd prefer, spend the rest of my birthday sitting around in my pyjamas, watching fucking reality television..." Natalie frowned slightly, looking guilty. "I'm fucking joking, it's fine if you want to go home. I'll call Tom instead and we can have a sleepover, watch a couple of DVDs of Jennifer Aniston and that sad prick." His joking, as anticipated, set Natalie at ease.
"No, I'll come in. I want to." She ducked under Malcolm's arm and into the dark hallway, making a beeline for the kitchen. There was something fun about knowing that she was about to surprise the Labour Party's spin doctor even if it was something so minor. "Wait there and don't turn on the lights. I've got something to give you." Natalie put on the kettle and opened the carrier bag as quickly as possible, lifting out its contents rapidly.
"What the fuck's taking you so long? You could be fucking baking me a cake; cream jam and fucking poison flavour." Malcolm had, judging by the way his footsteps had stopped, sat on the soft but he could be peering around the corner and see her frantically searching for the lighter she had bought for the candles.
"You're not looking, are you?" Natalie lit the candle and wondered what his response to the impromptu cupcake would be.
"I know about as much of what's going on as fucking Stevie Wonder sat in front of one of those fucking silent pictures...." Malcolm's face flickered in the shadows cast by the little candle and it was impossible to say how he felt about the cake.
"Happy birthday." Natalie sat beside him on the sofa and handed over the cake.
"Really pulled out all the fucking stops, didn't you? I'm getting all nostalgic thinking about the days when my salary ran towards nothing but Space Raiders, porn and cheap vodka." Malcolm was, as always, unreadable to her. As they sat beside one another in a tense silence, Natalie wondered if it had been a mistake to come here after all. She tried not to breathe audibly, wondering how best to extract herself. When Malcolm's hand wrapped around her hand she jumped slightly, cursing herself for showing weakness, but he didn't seem to notice as he guided the cake closer and blew out the single candle.
"Did you make a wish then?" Her voice shook slightly. The firmness of his grip was somehow reassuring, and Natalie missed it as he stood to switch on the light. He returned looking thoughtful.
"I'm fifty, not fucking five years old." There was no time to consider what his wish would have been as Malcolm smeared away her lip gloss with the edge of his thumb and leant in to kiss her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and Natalie found that she was pressed pleasantly between his body and the arm of the sofa. With each kiss her uncertainties faded, replaced by an unnerving level of calm. Placing a hand on either side of her face, Malcolm was the first to break the embrace. He studied her intently before speaking again. "Stay."
"Why do you want me to stay?" Being held like this was soothing, yet it put Natalie on edge. She tried to remain as still as she could in an effort to hide her feelings. "That's the question you owe me an answer to."
"Because you're lovely." Malcolm watched as she blushed, looking as relaxed as he had ever seen her. It was true- she was lovely, but that wasn't why he wanted her. He stroked her hair and pushed away the last of Natalie's trepidation before kissing her once again. It wasn't boukaki at bed time, but it wasn't half bad either.
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Thanks for reading. Please review. I don't know how to spell 'boukaki' and I'm not sure that I want to find out how.