'Miss
Storin
-
Mattie,
as
we
seem
to
be
old
friends
-
’
I
am a
drunk.
I
cannot
even
remember
meeting
you.
How
can
I, of
all
people,
be
of
help?
My
word
carries
no
weight whatsoever.'
‘I’
m
neither
a
judge
nor
a
prosecutor,
Charles.
I'm
just trying
to
piece
together
a
puzzle
from
a
thousand
scattered shards
’
He
looked
far
over
the
hills
towards
Dover
and
the Channel
beyond,
searching
in
the
distance.
'Mattie,
I've
tried
so
hard
to
remember,
believe
me.
The thought
that
I
have
disgraced
Henry
and
forced
him
into resignation
is
almost
more
than
I
can
stand.
But
I
know nothing
about
buying
and
selling
shares,
nothing
at
all.
I don't
know
what
the
truth
is.
I
can't
help
you,
I'm afraid.'
'Wouldn't
you
have
remembered
something
about buying
the
shares,
if
you
had
indeed
bought
them?'
‘F
or
the
last
month
I
have
been
a
very
sick
...'
-
he laughed
gently
-'...
a
very
drunk
man.
There
are
many things
I
have
absolutely
no
recollection
of.'
'Wouldn't
you
have
remembered
where
you
got
the money
to
buy
the
shares,
or
what
you
did
with
the proceeds?'
‘I
admit
that
it's
hugely
unlikely
I
would
have
had
a small
fortune
lying
around
without
my
remembering
it
or, more
likely,
spending
it
on
alcohol.
I
have
no
idea
where the
money
could
have
gone.
Even
I
can't
drink
away £50,000
in
just
a
few
weeks.'
'What
about
the
false
address
in
Paddington?'
'A
complete
mystery.
I
don't
even
know
where
Praed Street
in
Paddington
is
when
I'm
sober,
so
it
is
preposterous to
suppose
I
would
have
found
my
way
there
drunk.
It's
the other
side
of
London
from
where
I
live.'
'But
you
used
it
-
so
they
say
-
for
your
bank
and subscription
to
the
Party's
literature
service.'
Charles
Collingridge
roared
with
laughter.
'Mattie, you're
beginning
to
restore
my
faith
in
myself.
No
matter how
drunk
I
was,
I
cannot
conceive
I
could
possibly
have shown
any
interest
in
the
Party's
literature
service.
I
object when
political
propaganda
is
pushed
through
my
letter
box at
election
time;
having
to
pay
for
it
every
month
would
be an
insult!'
'Have
you
ever
contributed
to
the
Party's
literature service?' 'Never!
’
The
sun
was
setting
and
a
warm,
red
glow
filled
the
sky, lighting
up
his
face.
He
seemed
visibly
to
be
returning
to health,
and
to
be
content.
‘I
can't
prove
it,
but
I
don't
believe
I
am
guilty
of
the things
they
say
I
have
done.
It
would
mean
a
lot
to
me
if
you believed
that,
too.'
‘I
do,
Charles,
very
much.
And
I'm
going
to
try
to
prove
it for
you.'
She
rose
to
leave.
'I've
enjoyed
your
visit,
Mattie.
Now
that
we
are
such
old friends,
please
come
again.'
'I
shall.
But
in
the
meantime,
I've
got
a
lot
of
digging
to do.'
It
was
late
by
the
time
she
got
back
to
London
that evening.
The
first
editions
of
the
Sunday
newspapers
were already
on
the
streets.
She
bought
a
heavy
pile
of
them
and, with
magazines
and
inserts
slipping
from
her
laden
arms, she
threw
them
on
the
back
seat
of
her
car.
It
was
then
she noticed
the
Sunday
Times
headline.
'Now
why
is
Harold
Earle
making
such
a
fuss
about environmental
matters?'
she
asked
herself.
The
Education Secretary,
not
a
noted
Greenpeace
lover,
had
just announced
his
intention
to
stand
for
the
leadership
and simultaneously
had
made
a
speech
entitled
'Clean
Up
Our Country.'
'We
have
talked
and
talked
endlessly
about
the
problems of
our
inner
cities,
while
those
who
live
in
them
have
been forced
to
watch
their
neighbourhoods
continue
to
decline. In
the
meantime,
the
impoverished
state
of
our
inner
cities has
been
matched
by
the
deplorable
degeneration
of
far
too much
of
our
rural
countryside,'
the
Sunday
Times
reported him
as
saying.
'For
too
long
we
have
neglected
such
issues, to
our
cost.
Recycled
expressions
of
concern
are
no
substitute
for
positive
action,
and
it
is
time
we
backed
our
fine words
with
finer
deeds.
The
opinion
polls
show
that
the environment
is
the
most
important
non-economic
issue on
which
the
voters
say
we
have
failed.
After
more
than twelve
years
in
office,
this
is
unacceptable,
and
we
must wake
up
to
these
concerns
’