Chapter 9Three days had passed since Quentin Russell had spoken to his associate in the Commons tea bar and, when his mobile rang. He knew it would be the call he was expecting. He wasn’t disappointed. He was assured that the question would be asked in the House the next day and, by the end of the week, rumour and speculation would be rife following a denial by the Prime Minister himself. All Quentin needed to do was to ensure that he kept the pot simmering with a couple of paragraphs in his newspaper column until the time came to pounce.
At her home in Cheshire, Paula Harris was making afternoon tea for some of her friends from the ladies golf section and she too was wondering when something would be mentioned in the “House” about a certain and, as yet unnamed, MP.
Jim West was parking
