Chapter FifteenThe MPs name was Frederick Sharpe. Most called him Freddie and most, used to his fiery interjections, were not surprised at his latest performance in the House. He was likable, predictably wild, but very able. Few beat him in debate. His mop of hair was rarely combed, yet he always dressed respectably. Presently he was sitting in a ministerial car, the guest of Toby Simpson and not a little bemused at the strange turn of events.
Simpson had been on the phone almost constantly since he left the House but, when they dropped down on to the M4 proper from the elevated section, he at last replaced the handpiece.
‘Sorry, Freddie, but it’s best to do things when you get the prompting. Have you any appointments this evening?’
‘Miracle of miracles, no. Normally I’m absolutely choc
