Original subtitles

An emergency cabinet meeting.

Sends a thrill of anticipation down the spine.

Someone's in trouble. Someone's going

to get it in the neck. But not us, eh?

I'm going to read you a statement

which I shall be issuing later.

I must ask all of you not to reveal

the contents of this message to anyone

before it is officially released.

Thank you.

"There has been a spate of allegations

about my business affairs and those of my family.

"I have consistently stated that I've done

nothing of which I should be ashamed.

"The implied allegation is one of the most

serious kind for a holder of public office,

"that I have used confidential information

available to me to enrich my family.

"I have asked the Cabinet Secretary

to undertake an independent investigation.

"I'm confident it will establish my innocence

beyond any shadow of a doubt.

"The integrity of the office of Prime Minister

has been brought into question.

"It is my first duty to protect

the integrity of that office.

"Therefore I will today ask the permission

of Her Majesty the Queen

"to relinquish the office of Prime Minister

as soon as a successor can be chosen."

Thank you for your patience.

I should also like to take this opportunity

of thanking you for your friendship

and your loyalty during this difficult time.

Those of you, that is,

who feel those words apply to you.

Francis, I should like to thank you

for your valiant efforts.

You and I know how much I owe you.

I'm only sorry the odds against us were too heavy.

Prime Minister.

Thank you. That's all.

Heart-warming to know one's efforts

are appreciated. They've been considerable.

If not, perhaps, entirely valid.

Not feeling guilty, I hope.

If you have pangs of pity, crush them.

Grind them under your heel like cigar butts.

I've done the country a favour.

He didn't have the brain or the heart

or the stomach to rule Great Britain.

A nice enough man,

but there was no bottom to him.

His deepest need was that people

should like him. An admirable trait, that.

In a spaniel or a whore.

Not, I think, in a Prime Minister.

And we've done him a favour, too,

if he did but know it.

He was in the trap and screaming

from the moment he took office.

We've simply put the poor bastard

out of his agony.

"After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well."

So let's not indulge ourselves

in any squeamishness.

All right?

Because this...is just the start.

You saw them. You saw

their eyes aglitter round the table.

Samuels, Woolton, Harold Earle, McKenzie.

They will have to understand that I have

their measure, that I put the stick about.

I watch them jump.

Excuse me. I have to make a phone call.

One does feel that poor old Hal

deserves a proper send-off.

Number 10 Downing Street.

Prime Minister Collingridge left here

in the direction of Buckingham Palace.

According to unconfirmed reports,

he is about to tender his resignation

to Her Majesty the Queen.

He held the post for the shortest period

of time of any Prime Minister this century.

Prestatyn Powell, 10 Downing Street...

Urquhart.

Ah, yes, Mattie.

I had a feeling you might telephone.

Well, let's wait for the official statement, shall we?

Come to the house at six.

Yes, my house. We won't be disturbed.

All right. Thanks. I'll see you then. Goodbye.

- Mattie!

- What?

It's coming through.

"Spate of allegations..." Blah, blah, blah.

"The Cabinet Secretary will investigate.

"This will establish my innocence

beyond any shadow of a doubt." Blah, blah, blah.

"Integrity of the office."

Yes! He is going. It's official.

Not running away? Bollocks.

He must have done it. Silly bugger.

Doesn't mean he's guilty. He could've been framed.

Framed? Framed?!

Oh, grow up, Mattie.

Everyone is sillier than you imagine.

Dickhead. Why not get an advance

on his autobiography if he wanted money?

- Quite.

- What's going on?! Got anyone in Downing Street?

- He's in the country.

- Chequers?

- No. Undisclosed address.

- Sod it!

- You told him nothing of the scandal?

- No.

Unfortunately, he saw the news on TV.

As I said on the phone, he's distressed.

Suicidally distressed.

- He hasn't tried to...?

- He couldn't. We watch our patients.

But he's talked about it. He thinks

he's responsible. He has alcoholic blackouts.

- You can't commit a fraud in a blackout.

- I've no idea how he did that.

- What are you implying?

- Nothing. We see all sorts here.

I don't judge. I try to make people well.

Your brother, as I say, is very distressed.

- If you are able to reassure him...

- Just show me where he is.

In here.

- Charlie?

- What?

Hal.

Oh, Hal...

What's going to happen to us?

Are we going to go to prison?

Listen, I'll tell them it was all my fault.

It wasn't your fault, Charlie. It wasn't my fault.

We'll work it out. Don't worry.

I've cocked everything up for you, Hal.

I'm bloody glad it's over. I just...

I'm just so bloody glad

I don't have to fight those bastards any more.

Can I trust you, Mattie?

- You know you can.

- Yes, I do. I've changed my mind.

Between you and me, I think he's guilty.

Not just the evidence. He gave in so easily.

We were ready to defend him. He gave in.

- Will there be criminal charges?

- I doubt it. No one wants to hound him.

I think an investigation will find

there's not enough to justify prosecution.

Let the poor man crawl away

and lick his wounds away from prying eyes.

I take it that's not to be attributed to you.

Everything we say tonight

is unattributable. Confidential.

Not even to be whispered as a secret

to your favourite lover.

- I don't have a lover.

- Well... Good.

My editor wants me to find out

about the front-runners.

I'm sure you could tell me who they are.

- Samuels, Woolton, Earle, McKenzie.

- Very good.

You know you'd run rings round them.

Do I? You're not trying to tempt me, are you?

Yes, I think I am.

You're the only senior politician

I have any respect for.

If you do run, I'd do anything I could to help you.

- Would you, Mattie?

- I think you know that.

You know I'd do anything you ask me to.

Not the words of an independent woman.

Oh, but they are. I'm not anyone's toy.

I don't get chosen. I choose. And I'm not

interested in anyone's taboos about age.

I wanted you the first time I met you.

My wife went down to the country this afternoon.

Yes.

I have an engagement at nine. I can't cancel it.

I don't mind. It's only seven.

I'm seeing someone myself later.

You'll never be able to speak of this.

Why should I? I don't want to.

It's nothing to do with anyone else.

Mattie...

I don't know what to call you.

There's nothing I can call you.

- You can call me Francis.

- I can't.

I don't think of you as Francis. It's stupid.

You can hardly call me Chief Whip.

I want to call you Daddy.

What?

I want...to call you...

..Daddy.

- Same again, sir?

- Might as well.

- More poppadoms?

- No. I'll order.

Let me see.

Butter chicken. Saag bhaji.

Cucumber raita.

Elbow the fried rice and add a naan.

- How did you guess?

- Easy. You always order that.

Maybe you'd like different music.

I've got Joe Cocker.

Oh, no. Definitely not. There are some things

a gentleman never discusses.

Quick as you can, please, driver. I'm late.

Testing, testing. One, two.

Thursday, October 21st. 6.30.

On my way to see Deep Throat.

Hello. This is Mattie Storin.

Is Mr John Krajewski there, please?

Yes, the butter chicken man.

Oh, right. Thank you. Goodbye.

- Can I trust you?

- You know you can.

Yes, I think I do know that.

Interesting times, Francis.

Interesting times.

Come on, come on!

In China it's a curse - interesting times.

Is that so? I guess Collingridge

would drink to that. What an asshole.

Not much fight left in this guy. Another bottle.

- You got what you wanted?

- Absolutely.

Doesn't look much to me.

Now, Francis...

What I wanna know is...

are you gonna stand for the leadership?

Ben! It's too soon to say. The situation

is delicate. Let's keep our voices down.

All right. Let me put it this way. Do you want it?

Yes, I do. I'm the best man for the job.

You sure as shit better be.

Saturday in the "Chronicle",

we're doing a feature on the probable runners.

Mattie Storin's doing it.

Clever little kid. Do you know her?

I think so. Yes. Yes, of course I do.

She tried to mug me in Brighton.

I gave her something to cry about.

What this piece is gonna say,

whether she likes it or not,

is that Samuels has taken a lead in the polls.

He's telling the world he's got it sewn up.

How do you know he's taken the lead?

I don't know if he has. I'm just telling you

what we're putting in the paper.

That'll irritate the shit out of people.

Yes, Ben, I think it would. My colleagues

would react badly to such arrogance.

You need time. We gotta build you up.

Back-benchers may like you, but they're

not gonna vote for Mr Francis Nobody.

- Am I right?

- Yes, you are.

Anything you can do to slow things down?

Well, Humphrey Newlands will run

the election. He depends on my advice.

The timing is in the hands of the PM.

And he's taking your advice, I hear.

- If only he'd consulted me earlier...

- I know, I know. Tragic, right?

Now, listen to me, Francis. I'll be straight with you.

You're my man, but I could do business

with Patrick Woolton. I know I could.

Pat Woolton as PM would not

be a bad result for Ben Landless.

If you can't make it up with the leaders

by this time next month, I'll dump ya.

But if you can come good with a late run,

I'll put the whole operation behind you.

And I'll expect your lifelong goddamn gratitude.

Do I make myself clear?

Eminently clear, Ben.

- Hi.

- Morning.

Your piece looks good. When did you send it?

Two this morning. Oh, sorry, John.

It's all right. I had time to do some thinking.

Me, too. I was silly, John. Collingridge framed.

Anyway, who cares? Yesterday's man.

History. They won't take the investigation

awfully seriously. Going easy on him.

- Tories can be humane sometimes.

- Going easy on the investigation?

- Doesn't that seem strange to you?

- I'm the conspiracy theorist, not you.

Think about it. Henry Collingridge

had the means but not the motive.

Charlie had the motive,

but he didn't have the wit to do it.

If you were doing it,

would you use your own name?

- You've met Charlie, haven't you?

- I had a few drinks with him at Brighton.

- What was he like?

- Very nice. I thought he was sweet.

- Do you think he'd talk to you now?

- Don't know. And we don't know where he is.

Oh, yes, we do...actually.

Recognise anyone there?

Charles Collingridge, obviously. Mrs Collingridge.

Wait a minute. Tim Stamper,

MP for Shotover. Hard right.

- A government whip.

- What about him?

- No idea.

- Here he is again.

And again.

And again.

His name is Doctor Andrew Christian

and he runs a private clinic near Dover.

Flash place. They get royalty, rock stars,

trade from both Houses of Parliament.

So, fancy a trip to Kent?

Mr Urquhart!

Heigh-ho.

Yes, I know. Very irritating,

still to be waiting on yesterday's man.

But even a disgraced Prime Minister has his uses.

It becomes us to be humble and honest,

good old Francis Urquhart still.

- Doggedly devoted.

Such a comfort in a crisis.

- The Prime Minister will see you now.

- Thank you.

- Francis.

- Prime Minister.

My dear fellow. Do sit down.

- Tell me, is it true what I read?

- What?

- Samuels is dancing on my grave.

- That would be to put it most unkindly.

Samuels hasn't declared his candidacy,

but he has a head start.

If it's a short race, he must be favourite.

Then let's make sure it's a long race.

Francis, Billsborough betrayed my trust.

- He wants to deny us a free election.

- A little strongly put.

But it does look as though

he wants to pull the strings.

A delay would give us a chance for reflection.

Yes, slow the pace down.

Enjoy your last weeks in office.

You deserve it. You owe it to yourself.

Will you offer yourself as a candidate?

What, me? Oh, no, no, no.

I'm just a back-room boy.

Don't underestimate yourself.

I've come to think very highly of you.

So highly that if you did stand,

you'd have my personal support.

Hal, that touches me more than I can say.

But no. I really can't see myself

as a candidate for the highest office.

Each to his own, you know. I know my place.

Excuse me. You're not by any chance

a member of staff?

- No, I'm...

- Just visiting, like me. So sorry.

Seem to have lost my wife.

Seen anyone who looks

like the wife of a chap like me?

I'm afraid not. I'm looking for my uncle.

Over there. That's where the uncles congregate.

They're all perverts, of course.

Nonces to a man, every last one of them.

Good afternoon to you, my dear.

Filth!

Filth!

You and me together?

Total blank.

Was I, erm...all right?

Did I sort of...behave?

Yes, you were charming.

Not too bad today. A bit shaky.

Haven't had a drink.

It's all right, but time does pass slowly.

When you're drunk, you're never bored.

Did you know that? You may bore other people.

But the moments slip by

in such a satisfactory manner.

I don't really see

how I could have bought any shares.

I haven't got enough money.

Your brother might've given you money.

- Did give me money. Does.

- He gave you the money?

- He gave you the money to buy shares?

- No, no, no. Not that sort of money. No.

No, he gives me £50 when I'm short.

Sometimes 100.

Best brother in the world. Enough said.

- End of story.

- Have you ever bought shares at all?

Lord, no. I leave that to the clever chaps.

If I've ever done any gambling, it's been

on gee-gees. I'm not much cop at that.

There's not too much going on up here, Mattie.

That's the trouble.

What about the accommodation address

at Paddington?

You tell me. I don't go to Paddington.

It's where the Welsh people catch trains.

Yes, it is.

The address received communications

from the Ottoman Union Bank

and party literature

from Conservative Central Office.

Party literature?

Do you mean people send for it?

People pay for it?

Apparently. Apparently, you did.

What would I want party literature for?

- I don't know.

- Boring stuff, between you and I.

Now, don't you tell Hal I said that.

I wouldn't offend him for the world.

Hello! I DO remember you now.

We met in the...

In the bar at the Grand.

And I said you looked like Kate.

That's right. Your daughter.

Probably went on about her.

Normally do go on about Kate when I'm pissed.

Lovely girl.

I haven't been a very good dad to her,

but do you suppose that she'd come

and visit me here one day?

I do miss her.

- I would if it was me.

- Would you?

Yes. Thank you, Dr Christian.

No, no, no. I'm very grateful. Goodbye.

Come on, come on!

Roger. Francis Urquhart. Sorry to disturb you

at home. I hope it's not inconvenient.

No. Good of you to call, Francis.

Actually, I was asleep.

Had a late night. Took a pill.

What?

Oh, no.

I don't do that sort of thing. Not my line.

John? Mattie.

Yes. Found the place, found Collingridge.

Either he's the best actor in the world

or he knows nothing about the shares.

- Yes.

Hold on.

There's something happening outside.

Mattie?

Good.

Hey... It's over now.

They've gone.

Have a bit more of this.

Sorry.

Our fearless reporter

I'm not fearless, John. I don't like this.

I had this book when I was a kid.

"Kirsty McAllister, Crime Reporter."

When the baddies threatened Kirsty

it made her determined to find the truth.

I thought she was great.

Kirsty McAllister,

with her flatties and her boyish curls

and her little ring-bound notebook.

I thought I'd be just like her.

But I'm not.

I'm not like her.

I don't want my pretty face broken.

- I want to stop this game.

- Hey, you can.

I think you should.

Really?

- You're the big investigator.

- Up to a point, Lord Copper.

I know how it feels. I got threatened

when we were doing the arms thing.

I was off solid food.

Asked to be taken off the story.

I don't know.

Anyway, thanks for coming round, John.

- You're an angel.

- An angel?

Angels are reputed to have no sexual organs.

- Is that right?

- Totally smooth down there.

Must solve a hell of a lot of problems.

Yes.

- Sorry.

- You're dead beat, aren't you?

It must be past your bedtime, too.

- You go on home.

- I'm staying the night.

- No need.

- There is.

I can't...offer you anywhere comfortable to sleep.

Can't you? It was me you turned to

when you were frightened. Not him.

Who?

Whoever "he" is.

Why's it me for this and him for the other thing?

I'm sorry. None of my business.

I wouldn't bother him with this.

And he wouldn't be able to come.

He isn't free to come.

- Too grand, is he, or what?

- Don't be like that, John.

It wouldn't work with you.

Sex, I mean.

You're...easy to be with. You're...

You're not dangerous.

You're my best friend. Having it off

with my best friend would be embarrassing.

Sorry.

Honest. OK?

Well...ask a silly question.

- Do you want to stay?

- Do you want me to?

Yes. Please. I don't want to be by myself tonight.

Well, I will, then.

You can... You can come in my bed

if you like. Just...

Just...to be comfortable?

That's right.

Enough said.

End of story.

The contest for the Tory leadership

is now officially on.

Michael Samuels, unofficially tipped

as the front-runner, went on record.

- Yes, I'll be standing.

- You're rather young to be Prime Minister.

Perhaps. I'll leave that to my colleagues.

What I lack in years might be balanced

by energy and a freshness of ideas.

- In contrast to your predecessor?

- No, I won't be drawn into that.

Disraeli and Pitt were both younger than me

when they first came into power.

Disraeli, Pitt and Samuels

The jumped-up little turd!

Doesn't sound all that modest.

Poor fellow doesn't do himself justice.

We must match fine words with finer deeds

if we are not to fail our children

and our children's children.

Mr Earle's speech was interpreted

as a coded attack on Michael Samuels,

who is Minister for the Environment.

Many observers are expecting

a speech from Mr Samuels

about the shortcomings of state schools

under Mr Earle's ministry.

In contrast was the statesmanlike attitude

of Francis Urquhart,

the popular Chief Whip.

What, me?! Oh, no, no, no!

I'm a back-room boy. Plenty of able men about,

after all. Ambitious men, too.

We'll take our time

and we'll come up with the right choice.

Fine. First class. Excellent.

- Let 'em cancel each other out, right?

- That did rather cross one's mind.

You'll have to do more against Woolton.

I'd be proud to serve under Woolton.

I don't want to be Prime Minister.

Bloody awful job.

Quite. Much nicer to be a whip.

Know all the secrets. Put some stick about.

- Make 'em jump.

Whip's office. Stamper here.

Erm... Hold on, please.

It's your little friend, Miss Storin

of the "Chronicle". Do you want to take it?

You called the police? Why not?

I was frightened to. They frightened me.

Of course. You must've been very upset.

Yes, I was. But look.

It must be a conspiracy against Collingridge.

Yes, I believe now that it must be.

- Mattie, you trust me?

- You know I do.

Will you leave this to me?

I have access to sources of information.

And I couldn't bear to think of you

being damaged in any way.

Is...Mrs Urquhart in London at the moment?

She's in the country, Mattie.

I would be anxious about you being alone.

- Yes.

- I hope you wouldn't think it improper

if I invited you to spend the night here.

I don't bloody well care if it's improper or not.

I like the things you say.

So hard to know who to trust

in these suspicious days.

Does passion engender trust?

Not necessarily.

And yet we all would wish to feed on certainties.

To hear the word "always",

and believe it true.

She trusts me absolutely, I believe.

I trust she does.

And I?

I trust her absolutely...

..to be absolutely human.

You want to help him? Last time

I talked to you, your paper attacked him.

I think he's been framed

through the computer system.

No. No one from outside can access it.

How about from inside?

Charles Collingridge is supposed to have

had literature delivered to an address.

Yes, I checked it as soon as I heard.

It's there, all right. Look.

Charles Collingridge,

216 Praed Street, Paddington, W2.

- What do the numbers mean?

- First one says he takes everything.

The second says he's fully paid up.

Could that have been done by someone in here

without making the payments?

No, not from here. Hold on.

Let me check something else.

Hmm... He's never paid for the literature service.

He's only on the distribution file,

not on the payment file.

Can you find out when he first appeared

on the distribution file?

Two weeks ago.

After his brother resigned,

when he was already in the clinic.

- So somebody...in this building?

- It would have to be.

They made it look as if Charles had been

subscribing since January the 1st.

Yes.

- Kevin?

- What?

- Don't talk to anyone about this.

- I wasn't about to.

You're not going to print it?! Why not?!

Because there's nothing there, Mattie.

There's no hard evidence at all.

What do you want?

Someone altered computer files

to link Charles with the Praed Street address.

They did that two weeks ago.

It's there on the print-out.

The same person must have opened

the bank account in Charles's name.

That's easy. Anyone could've done that.

But altering the computer files

after the share deal.

That had to be someone inside the party machine

who wanted rid of Collingridge.

Hal Collingridge could've done it himself.

Confuse the evidence.

He's not computer-literate enough

to do that. He's an Oxford arts man.

He can't use a cash-card machine!

- So he got someone to do it for him.

- He did that even after he resigned?

Mattie, get it into your head.

There isn't a story here.

A nice try, but you haven't given names.

You can't see what's in front of you.

It's a sensational story.

I'm tired of being told how to do my job

by the latest teenager from the sticks.

Well...

Now is as good a time as any.

- About your next career move.

- Oh?

I'd like to see some new thinking

in our home interior pages.

What's bright and sparkly in the shops

for her indoors?

The latest trend in street-smart knitwear.

You've been got at, haven't you?

Was it Landless again?

I've been told about your conspiracy theories.

Life doesn't work out like that, Mattie.

Especially political life.

It's real and dull and earnest.

Now, 20 things you could do with a wok.

Your imagination could make its mark.

No, thank you, Greville.

I won't write the Women's Page.

I don't think you understand, Mattie.

You haven't any say in this.

I'm taking you off the political staff

for your own good.

Fine. I'll resign and take this to another paper.

Not for three months, you won't.

Read your contract of employment.

I know you're bursting to resign. Be sensible.

Wait until you've got another job to go to.

Yes, I have, Ben. It's all ready.

"This country needs a leader

with maturity, with a sense of discretion,

"with a proven record of reliability.

"There is at least one senior figure

who has all these qualities.

"He has set aside personal ambition

"in the cause of the interest of his party.

"He has announced that it is not

his intention to seek election as leader.

"He still has time to reconsider

before nominations close on Thursday.

"We believe it would be

in the best interests of all concerned

"if the Chief Whip, Francis Urquhart,

"were to stand and be elected."

Admirable.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have read

the "Chronicle" with a bit of surprise.

As you know, I've always been happiest

serving government behind the scenes.

It would be unpardonably arrogant of me

to disregard the urgings of so many colleagues.

This has all come as a great surprise.

Forgive me if I take time

to consider my course of action.

I'll talk this over with my wife Elizabeth.

Her views will be the most important

of all to me in making my decision.

That's all I have to say until tomorrow.

- Excellent.

- Thank you, my dear.

A touch of Richard of Gloucester

at Baynard's Castle.

"Shine out, fair sun!"

Should I have been discovered

with two priests, do you think?

Not with the state

the Church of England's in today.

"Unpardonably arrogant to disregard

the wishes of the public." That was good.

Yes, I must confess I thought so, too.

For all that, you're still well behind

Samuels and Woolton, are you not?

So far. It's all in hand, Elizabeth.

Good. I didn't see your little friend out there.

The one from the "Chronicle".

No. I'm, er...giving her a private audience

tomorrow evening.

I see. Can we trust her, Francis?

Oh, yes. I think we can.

- Hello.

- Hello, Mattie. Usual? Whisky, please.

- How's it going?

- Not brilliant.

It's too depressing to think about.

What's all this about Francis Urquhart?

God knows. Grev seems sincere,

convinced that Urquhart should be PM.

Presumably Ben told him what to think.

Do you think it's a daft idea- Urquhart?

No. I happen to think he's very underrated.

I think he makes a potent contribution.

He might slip through. The man least disliked.

The politician with no politics.

A good chap to have in a tight spot.

Yeah. The last of those, certainly.

Why should Landless back an outsider?

I don't know. Woolton would give him

all he wants, and he's a front-runner.

Ben Landless likes power for its own sake.

He supported Collingridge, then ditched him.

Maybe he had a tip about the shares scandal.

- Maybe he was involved.

- Maybe Urquhart was as well.

- Not Urquhart.

- Why not?

I just know. That sort of thing wouldn't be him.

- Fine. Be careful, Mattie.

- I am careful.

Whoever it was, they know you found Charles.

They may know you told Grev.

Whoever... They won't just be villains.

These will be people with friends in high places.

I know. If they've got inside information,

they'll know I'm no danger any more.

Greville's taken me off the story.

I can't get another job. And anyway...

- Maybe I've friends in high places, too.

- Mattie!

All right, John. I will be careful.

Mr Grainger, then?

I see. There's no one else

from the press office available?

Is there anyone you could suggest?

Director of Publicity? That's Mr O'Neill?

Yes, I met him at Brighton.

Could you transfer me? Thanks.

Director of Publicity's Office. Penny Guy.

Hello. My name's Mattie Storin.

Could I speak to Roger O'Neill?

- Sorry. Who?

- Mattie Storin.

I... I thought you were a man.

Well, sorry. Could I speak to Roger?

No, he's not in this morning. He called in sick.

Look, can you come over now?

Um...yes, if you think it's worth my while.

I would rather speak to Mr O'Neill.

No, you wouldn't. Believe me.

We'll meet outside.

Corner of Great Peter Street and Millbank.

All right. See you then. Goodbye.

Look, I had no idea you were a woman.

Roger said someone needed a shock.

- Why should he do a thing like that?

- I suppose he owed someone a favour.

Look, you have to believe me.

Roger wouldn't hurt a fly.

I thought he was the one who was going

to get hurt. I only went to look after him.

Do you believe me?

I don't know.

I'll pay for the damage to your car

and anything extra for upsetting you.

Honestly, he could never hurt a woman.

Not physically.

Look, Mattie, I'll tell you how it is.

The state he's in now, if you go

to the police with this, he'd kill himself.

I really believe that.

Why is he in such a state?

I think he blames himself

about that share business. That wasn't his fault.

He idolised Henry Collingridge.

He'd do anything to help him.

- Why should he blame himself?

- Charles wanted an address for his mail.

Roger and I fixed it for him. The bugger

was using it for his iffy share deals.

Roger thinks he's all to blame. He's cracking up.

- It's like dealing with a baby.

- Why do you put up with him?

I love him, don't I?

She just blurted it all out. She must have

thought I recognised them that night.

I was just ringing O'Neill.

- You believed her?

- Yes.

Neither of them thought it was

terribly wrong. I felt sorry for her.

She's in love with him.

It was him she was worried for.

She begged me not to go to the police.

She said he'd kill himself. He's unstable.

I do understand, between the two of us,

that Mr O'Neill has a cocaine problem.

- What?

- Chief Whip's business, to know things.

- Is it?

- So that one can move swiftly to help.

It's more common than one might think.

Easy availability. A life of constant pressure.

In Smith Square,

the House of Commons and Pall Mall,

it's all too easy to fall into bad company.

- What should I do?

- Let's see.

You have firm evidence of a conspiracy.

You have no access to a newspaper to print it.

A further problem. You'd like

to save Penny Guy from criminal charges.

- Yes.

- About O'Neill, you're not sure?

I don't care about him, but I would like

to help her. It just doesn't seem possible.

Someone is clearly working O'Neill.

From his condition, I'd guess it wouldn't

take much to get him to tell us who it is.

When we know that,

we'll be in a position to know what to do.

- Like me to ask him?

- Would you?

It might take a few days before he's

ready to cooperate, but I believe he will.

Would you be prepared to leave it to me?

You know I would. You're the only person I trust.

That was what you wanted all along, wasn't it?

Yes, it was.

- Am I so transparent?

- Not at all. Very manipulative, I would say.

You seem to be able to get me

to do anything you like.

- Do I?

- So let me ask your advice.

Should I accept a nomination

and run for leader of the party?

Yes, you should.

Well...it seems I have no choice.

Is Mrs Urquhart in the country?

Not this evening. Mrs Urquhart is in town.

- And at home?

- And at home, Mattie.

I wish she were in the country.

And you do, too, don't you?

Don't you?

You might well think that, Mattie.

I couldn't possibly comment.