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Meanwhile, Winstanley had at last managed to summon the courage to complete dialing Torquilmina's number.
"Torquilmina? It's Winstanley. We need a small—"
"Winstanley?" boomed out Torquilmina in a tone designed to intimidate battleships. "You and Algernon still haven't paid the quarter of a million pounds into my slush fund for the last favour. If you think—"
Winstanley took the phone away from his ear and sighed. He wandered over to the car and got into the back, settled down, poured himself a drink and placed the phone down in it holder whilst setting it to loud speaker.
"—so there is just no way we can get the support of the Friday Supporters unless you are willing to provide funding. And then there is the fiasco over that Greek Island inspection visit you arranged for—"
Winstanley tuned out Torquilmina. Her success in politics, and her value to both himself and Algernon, was in no small part due to her ability to talk. Her last favour had involved filibustering a certain piece of legislation. She had talked continuously for over thirty seven hours in a single stretch (and that was not even her personal best), and was only stopped when it was noticed that a front-bench spokesman, Horace Hiccup-Hardcourt, was dead in his wheelchair. Having been found dead in the House, work had to be suspended but no-one could decide if it was the work on the Monday, when Torquilmina had started talking or the Wednesday when she was interrupted. Eventually the speaker overruled the debate and decided it would be the Wednesday session. Unfortunately, since Torquilmina had taken the lead in the debate, it was Friday evening, and as the House was no longer sitting most of the members had disappeared, together with their researchers, on research trips to investigate the impact of warmer climes on certain biological functions.
Winstanley picked up one of his folders and slowly worked through it, signing various letters firing staff and cutting salaries. Eventually Algernon returned and Winstanley hit the mute button.
"Torquilmina's complaining about her filibustering fee. Or more accurately the fact it is missing."
"Why do people get so upset about small change? Oh well." And with that he took out his iPhone and started a banking application, and proceeded to transfer half a million pounds. He turned the phone off mute.
"—and if you think my sister Effluvia and I are going to—"
"Torquilmina, I'm terribly sorry. I've transferred twice the agreed fee, and it is in the account now, if you wish to check. We'll provide the same funds again if you can place the Ministry on the Terrorist Organisation List, and send over a copy of the entire files you hold on that organisation."
"MI-11 will need some pretence for this."
"Smythe-Bottom. It was clearly an assassination attempt. He's been reduced to," he paused and spat out the final word with all the venom most people reserved when talking about his profession, "silliness."
"In that case, I'll see what I can do. Send over any documentation you have."
"Excellent," and he hung up.
"Can't you keep her under control?" Algernon asked Winstanley, somewhat rhetorically (Winstanley did sometimes wonder if Algernon had a soft spot for Torquilmina and her sister since he arranged that fact finding mission for three weeks to a remote Fijian island). "James, to the factory at Middle Wallop."
Actually, Algernon had no idea if their chauffeur's name was James. Given that he was contained within the privacy glass enclosed front compartment, they had no-idea if James was even a he. For that matter, for all they knew it "James" might have been a team of highly trained squirrels, a llama or a robotic vacuum cleaner with ideas above its station, a full set of extension tools and internet access. But all that mattered to Algernon was that he was cheap. Strangely this didn't seem to worry either of them given that "James" was driving them at just above the speed limit, barely feet from a huge lorry. A lorry with a very strange logo, comprising of the colour blue, a digit and an aquatic vertebrate.
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