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“It’s 2022, for fuck’s sake. Surely we’re past all that bullshit?”
Jeremy shook his head. “You’re not naïve, Sarah. And don’t get me wrong. I’m a supporter of having a gay PM, and if you’d been running into this election as a lesbian, there wouldn’t be an issue. But people don’t deal well with a change of direction at the last minute, and especially not one that rocks the foundations of who and what they thought they were voting for.”
Sarah held her head in her hands.
“I know there’s something between you. I’m trying to save your political arse here, and you’re not helping me.”
“Just deny it?”
Jeremy rolled his head and his eyes. “And when they dig deeper? Which they will. When they hound Kendra for information. What’s she going to say?”
“I need a drink,” Sarah said.
“You can’t bury this one, Sarah. When this goes to print tomorrow, they’ll be knocking on Kendra’s door for her side of the story. They’ll start questioning your children.”
Sarah’s stomach squeezed tighter at the thought of Kendra being subjected to an onslaught by the press. She could talk to her children and shield them, take them up north and take out an injunction against the press if needed. “Can you make it go away?”
He puffed out and scratched his head. “I don’t know. This is the pro Faulks camp we’re talking about. They’re adamant on putting this image out there, whether there’s any substance to their story or not. All they want is Faulks to get a second term.”
“I’ll fucking sue them,” Sarah said. She reached into her desk cupboard and pulled out a bottle of whisky and two glasses and poured. She needed to call Kendra but not while Jeremy was here. She downed her drink and refilled her glass. Maybe she couldn’t bury it, but she could numb the feelings that were consuming her.
Jeremy put his empty glass on the table and started towards the door. “If you want her that badly, you risk losing the chance of a lifetime. PM, Sarah. Fucking PM over a fuck. Make sure she’s worth it.”
Sarah lowered her head and shook it, muttering to herself.
“What do you want me to do?” he asked.
“Do what you normally do. Make it go away. If this goes to print, I’ll sue them, and I don’t care what it costs.”
He nodded and closed the door behind him.
Sarah poured a third whisky and downed it in one hit. She had to call Kendra and explain. The phone rang, and rang, and rang. She wrote out a text message but no matter which way she phrased it the words had guilty as charged written all over them. She deleted the message. “Fuck,” she said as Mark entered the room.
“If I overheard correctly, there’s going to be a leak in the press tomorrow morning.”
Sarah nodded.
“And we are going to deny it.”
Sarah nodded.
“And does Kendra know?”
Sarah shook her head. “She’s not picking up.”
He bit his lip and ran his fingers through his hair. “What do you want to do about talking to the children?”
Sarah finished her drink. “I don’t know. I’ve asked Jeremy to deal with the press. Everyone has a price, so maybe he can stop it going to print. I’ve threatened to take legal action if they go ahead.”
“That won’t be the end of this though, will it?”
She shook her head. “I want people to know the truth but now isn’t the right time, not if I want to ensure I win the election.”
He nodded. “Then keep a low profile until you’re elected, and as soon as you’re in the seat, we’ll make a statement together. It gives us time to explain things to Abi and Reece. They’ll be fine.”
Sarah stared at him. “You think so?”
He came to her and held her in his arms. “They’ll be fine because we’re fine. We’ve always known it would come to this at some point, for one or the other of us. They’re old enough to understand, and it’s good that they get to appreciate different types of relationships and love.”
