【Prologue】S01E0……
(超高人气小说：初丹阁)【女生最爱小说：轻语书屋】【Prologue】 S01E00 Tautological
Friday, 18th of January, 1980.
Fog, layer upon layer, crept frothe surface of the Thas onto Whitehall, swirliween the a buildings'''' stone walls and ices, silently enveloping the entire gover district.
The biting ry of the so-called ''''Winter of Distent'''' of 1979 had irely faded, and the third hung parliant sihe start of 1980 cast a new, weary glooover this tre of power. The servatives held 306 seats, Labour 285. The Liberal Party''''s ued surge to 27 seats beca the delicate terweight on the scales.
A photograph of the servative leader, David Northcote, and the Liberal leader, Richard Trevelyan, signing their coalition agreent at No. 10 Downing Street occupied a not-insignifit spot on the front page of the following day''''s Tis, the headline suggesting cautious optis
y, not zeal.
entators encapsulated it all in a cold, hard xi as if that precise yet antiquated Whitehall e only ever truly turs gears when absolutely pelled.
Charles Hyde didn''''t read the neer.
He ag in front of an old, black rotary telephohe extended coiled cord tangled into anxious geotric patterns around his feet.
He knew he would secure a position in this reshuffle.
The question was, whie?
The suspense was like a fishbone, lodged ihroat of Charles''''s political aitions, her up nor down.
After a brief internal debate, he dialled the nuer of Victor, a friend he''''d t at a Christs Eve party the previous year.
Though their acquaintance was short, a few intellectual skirshes where they had proved evenly tched had de Charles feel they were suffitly close to share so innocuous plaints.
"Vic," he deliberately de his tone sound light, "where do you think Richard will sigo gather dust?"
"Charlie?" The voi the other end, tinged with a wearihat suggested he''''d been forcibly pulled froquiet plation, corrected higently and precisely: "I feel pelled to rend you, it''''s the Pri Minister, not the Deputy Pri Minister, who deternes your post."
"Oh, spare the protocol, Victor. I know it''''s the PM who deternes post, and it''''s the Queen who bestows it." Charles ceded unvingly. He dragged a chair closer and pulled the rotary phone an inch towards hi "This ti, don''''t get sidetracked. Help analyse this, with your ''''Observer'''' perspective. What do you think Richard will ''''wangle'''' for frothe PM? He''''s got to get sothi, hasn''''t he? He ''''t put this old fox in charge of filing, he?"
"Charlie," the other n seed to sigh, "you''''re forty-one. I would have thought age ght bestow re than just physical turity."
But Charles ignored hi
He tinued his nologue, his thoughts rag down his own track: "Let''''s try a process of elination first. Firstly, Treasury, Ho Office, Fn Office, Defehese core red boxes, the servatives will never put thein our hands. Out of the question. Not a hope. Door firy shut."
"''''Our''''?" The voi the other end shrewdly caught the pronoun.
"If I y offer a corre," his voice carried a faliar resignation and a deliberate detat, "I anot a Liberal. I take no whip. I take the crossbench view." He paused, his tone hardening slightly, like an invisible full stop: "And... certaiints are best kept under one''''s hat."
"Fod''''s sake, Vic! This is just a private call! MI5 hasn''''t got ti fging two codgers in d-prattle!" Charles waved his hand disssively, though the other n couldn''''t see it.
A pause heavy with unspoken caution filled the line.
"I think..." The voice, low and clear, carried an alst fated sense of prophecy: "Your future Per Secretary will tirelessly, assiduously, inculcate in you the art of discretion. It will be quite the... indu. A protracted and necessary... iersion."
"A truly anticipated indu, then... So what''''s left?" Charles pulled the versation back, tinu
Friday, 18th of January, 1980.
Fog, layer upon layer, crept frothe surface of the Thas onto Whitehall, swirliween the a buildings'''' stone walls and ices, silently enveloping the entire gover district.
The biting ry of the so-called ''''Winter of Distent'''' of 1979 had irely faded, and the third hung parliant sihe start of 1980 cast a new, weary glooover this tre of power. The servatives held 306 seats, Labour 285. The Liberal Party''''s ued surge to 27 seats beca the delicate terweight on the scales.
A photograph of the servative leader, David Northcote, and the Liberal leader, Richard Trevelyan, signing their coalition agreent at No. 10 Downing Street occupied a not-insignifit spot on the front page of the following day''''s Tis, the headline suggesting cautious optis
y, not zeal.
entators encapsulated it all in a cold, hard xi as if that precise yet antiquated Whitehall e only ever truly turs gears when absolutely pelled.
Charles Hyde didn''''t read the neer.
He ag in front of an old, black rotary telephohe extended coiled cord tangled into anxious geotric patterns around his feet.
He knew he would secure a position in this reshuffle.
The question was, whie?
The suspense was like a fishbone, lodged ihroat of Charles''''s political aitions, her up nor down.
After a brief internal debate, he dialled the nuer of Victor, a friend he''''d t at a Christs Eve party the previous year.
Though their acquaintance was short, a few intellectual skirshes where they had proved evenly tched had de Charles feel they were suffitly close to share so innocuous plaints.
"Vic," he deliberately de his tone sound light, "where do you think Richard will sigo gather dust?"
"Charlie?" The voi the other end, tinged with a wearihat suggested he''''d been forcibly pulled froquiet plation, corrected higently and precisely: "I feel pelled to rend you, it''''s the Pri Minister, not the Deputy Pri Minister, who deternes your post."
"Oh, spare the protocol, Victor. I know it''''s the PM who deternes post, and it''''s the Queen who bestows it." Charles ceded unvingly. He dragged a chair closer and pulled the rotary phone an inch towards hi "This ti, don''''t get sidetracked. Help analyse this, with your ''''Observer'''' perspective. What do you think Richard will ''''wangle'''' for frothe PM? He''''s got to get sothi, hasn''''t he? He ''''t put this old fox in charge of filing, he?"
"Charlie," the other n seed to sigh, "you''''re forty-one. I would have thought age ght bestow re than just physical turity."
But Charles ignored hi
He tinued his nologue, his thoughts rag down his own track: "Let''''s try a process of elination first. Firstly, Treasury, Ho Office, Fn Office, Defehese core red boxes, the servatives will never put thein our hands. Out of the question. Not a hope. Door firy shut."
"''''Our''''?" The voi the other end shrewdly caught the pronoun.
"If I y offer a corre," his voice carried a faliar resignation and a deliberate detat, "I anot a Liberal. I take no whip. I take the crossbench view." He paused, his tone hardening slightly, like an invisible full stop: "And... certaiints are best kept under one''''s hat."
"Fod''''s sake, Vic! This is just a private call! MI5 hasn''''t got ti fging two codgers in d-prattle!" Charles waved his hand disssively, though the other n couldn''''t see it.
A pause heavy with unspoken caution filled the line.
"I think..." The voice, low and clear, carried an alst fated sense of prophecy: "Your future Per Secretary will tirelessly, assiduously, inculcate in you the art of discretion. It will be quite the... indu. A protracted and necessary... iersion."
"A truly anticipated indu, then... So what''''s left?" Charles pulled the versation back, tinu