[ShortNCuddlyAm]

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“We need to act quickly” the man speaking thumped the table for emphasis

“We can only act as circumstances allow us - we cannot risk being caught at this stage - or indeed at any stage.”

“And besides, we will get a better effect if it is not too rushed. The leeway this will buy us if played correctly will be immense. People will be asking us to do exactly what we want to do anyway”

“Veronica’s right. And it also means we must let some otherwise perfect circumstances go past. Otherwise it will all look too planned. We need to keep people on edge, not let them learn to expect what comes next and when.”

“Alright Simon, you both have valid points” Phillip, the man who had thumped the table, raised his hands a little wearily as Veronica looked like she was ready to jump back into the fray. The other people around the table were all starting to look like they wanted to have their say, too.

“If we can call some order to this”, he continued, “then we can start discussing the ne…” and broke off as the door swung open.

“I’m terribly sorry, sirs and madams, but this… gentleman… just barged past”

“Forgive me gentlemen and ladies” the intruder smiled winningly “but something came to my attention earlier tonight and I thought you might all be interested” He waved what looked like a slightly damp pamphlet at them. “Ah yes. Before you ask, the dowager countess of _shire advised me that I might find you here. And that you might be interested. And also passed on her apologies that her and her party are unable to attend, but other business detains them” He paused, sensing an interruption. “Oh - as for me - you probably know me best as Quaffington”

“Quaffington? The gossip columnist on The Daily News?”

“The one and only” he smiled.

There was an outburst of shocked exclamations. The individual words couldn’t be made out, but the force of outrage and disapproval emanating from those around the table could almost be felt.

Except from one. Quaffington passed the pamphlet to Phillip “you might find this interesting. Given how I came by it, I don’t think this is just another group of radicals with more ideas than sense”

Phillip glanced at it briefly whilst the others were still clamouring for Quaffington to be evicted.

“‘Tyranny of man and machine blah blah blah oppressed underclasses blah blah blah make a stand blah blah blah’ What on earth makes you think this excrement is any different to the dozens of pamphlets and bills handed out and stuck up all over the town?”

“It wasn’t either stuck up or handed out. It was launched”

“Launched? Explain yourself, man”

“I was on a boat with Char…erm, the dowager countess of _shire, amongst others, travelling up the Thames. Something flew over us and landed in the river with a splash. As one of our number had just, ahem, excused themselves, our initial thought was man overboard. As it turned out, it was a bundle of these.”

“What on earth would they hope to achieve by sending a large bundle of pamphlets flying through the air? Knocking out your intended audience is not going to win people over to your cause” Phillip said that softly, but with feeling, almost as if talking from personal experience.

“Unless the binding was intended to come apart mid air, and send the pamphlets raining down? Or maybe they were aiming them at a distribution point and missed…” Quaffington tailed off with a faintly quizzical expression.

“Which of course begs the question how did they get them airborne? Did you notice any more gyros or similar than normal? P’raps one of them had intended to undo the bundle from up there, but it fell before they could?”

Quaffington stifled a smile. He’d been afraid he would have to feed them all of his suspicions, but Phillip’s mind was now showing signs of starting to work.

“I’m afraid,” he said, sounding embarrassed, “I’m not actually all that familiar with the usual amount of air traffic over the Thames at this time of night. P’rhaps the boatman might know…?

“Good grief man! Have you no sense? The boatman will be suspicious enough - you don’t want him to think there might be something for him to gain from telling what little he… ummm, where are the rest of the pamphlets, by the way?”

“The good dowager has them. She says once they have dried out they will make good floor liners for her new litter of puppies.”

“Thank heavens for that!”

The muttering around the table had finally stopped as one by one they all noticed Phillip and Quaffington deep in conversation.

“These people” Phillip said, brandishing the pamphlet, “could be a major thorn in our sides. Not so much the content, which is standard fare, to be honest,” none of them, except John the security man, noticed Quaffington grimace faintly, “but their organisation, which is more than a notch above the others” Phillip continued. “We could try to fight them as we normally do or…” he paused, looking around, “we could use this to our advantage.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Veronica all but shrieked “How, pray tell, do we use trouble-making rabble-rousers to our advantage? It would kill every inch of credibility we have to even be seen to be considering associating with them!” and she threw a very pointed look in Quaffington’s direction

“I can assure you, ma’am, that none of this will be appearing in The Daily News. Or at least, if it does, it won’t be of my doing” and he looked around the table, smiling blandly.

“Well,” huffed Simon “I think I speak for all of us when I say I wouldn’t go to any of the rags with this. No offence.”

“None taken” Quaffington smiled reassuringly, although he was puzzled as to what he was supposed to have taken offence to.

“As I was saying” Phillip continued, “we can use this to our advantage. We may need to join forces with the riverboat party,” with a slight nod towards Quaffington, “but if we can keep this lot busy with their pamphlets, then, well, we might be able to control the outcome of our original discussion to even greater effect.”

There was silence around the table, and Quaffington began to think that the dowager had maybe credited this group with more intelligence and cunning than they had. Then the murmur started. It was clear they all saw the possibilities, and now their eyes had been opened to them their brains were running on full steam and churning out the ideas. With a nod to Philip, Quaffington stepped out into the night.

---

The moon shone down as Quaffington made his way to the dowager’s town house. The discussion had taken longer than he had expected, and he hoped the somewhat elderly lady would still be awake. As he approached the building, he realised he needn’t have worried. Going on the number of windows lit up, and people flitting to and fro in the gardens, she was having one of her famous soirees. A church clock chimed somewhere nearby. It was 1 in the morning and the party was still in full swing. With a nod to the butler, he went into the hallway, and from there into a small antechamber. He heard the butler ring a bell, and only a few moments later the dowager joined him.

“So my dear, did they bite?” she asked

“Finally. Once they realised how to use it. I was concerned at first…”

“You thought I was going senile in my old age?” she interrupted, and laughed. “No, they can be stubborn and slow on the uptake, but once they’ve grasped an idea, well” she spread her hands “they won’t stop until they’ve wrung every last possibility out of it and used them all for their advantage”

“I saw them when it started to take hold. I wouldn’t like to be someone they considered to be a genuine enemy.”

“Most people just consider you to be a nuisance. An annoying little insect. When they think you’ll be writing about them, that is. When you’re writing about their enemies or rivals, well, then they think you are utterly brilliant and the sharpest mind on Fleet Street. And” she held up a hand as he started to snort in derision “and I am very surprised you don’t use that to your own advantage more often.”

“I’m comfortable where I am, for the moment. The people I write about would more make dangerous enemies than valuable patrons. Maybe when I want to retire to the country, then…” he shrugged, “but for now at least I like the city life”

“You should go to the country” the dowager said, looking at him meaningfully.

Quaffington looked at her sharply.

“Well, not exactly, given you have to already be prime minister for that. But you have the right sort of brain to get ahead in politics, you know, and with the right patron…” she paused, watching it sink in. “But enough business. You haven’t met my niece, have you? Let me introduce you!” And in an instant she was back to the society matron most people believed her to be.