igniting the flames of idle gossip with his behaviour, but Charles was too caught up in the heady ecstasy of a crush. Lorna dominated his thoughts.
In the evenings, Charles would sit and ponder over his interactions with Lorna that day, trawling over the finest detail to try and surmise if she too wanted him as much as he wanted her. When they exchanged morning pleasantries he would analyse her tonality to the point where he was driving himself to distraction. Even Elaine commented on his unusual behaviour one night over dinner.
‘Charles, dear, you’ve seemed most distracted this past week. Are things a little intense with work?’
Charles glanced up from his roast lamb dinner and seized the opportunity of deception, knowing that his role as Deputy Prime Minister was the perfect veil to hide potential indiscretions behind.
‘Yes, work is extremely busy lately. I’m going to be staying late indefinitely.’
‘Oh, I see.’
Charles felt a pang of guilt when Elaine appeared genuinely dismayed.
Another week of coy glances and shy smiles began. Charles found himself wishing the day away, just for those precious moments when he would walk past Lorna, sat diligently working at Faye’s desk. Faye herself seemed oblivious to the flirtation and appeared to be warming towards the young intern whose presence she had originally protested.
It was an evening in early spring when the situation intensified. Charles was working late, finishing off a manifesto he was due to present the following day. Sat now in his lounge, Charles could still smell the faint aroma of warm rain, carried in from the open window in his office. It was a characteristically wet April, and there had been a sudden downpour hammering against his window, yet the wet weather was accompanied by unseasonal heat. London had felt more like a rainforest than a city.
A gentle knock rapped against his office door, disturbing him from his work.
‘Come in,’ Charles instructed.
The door creaked open and Lorna appeared, soaked to the bone. Her golden hair lay wet and matted to her head, her neat outfit, so carefully put together, now dripped onto the carpet of the Deputy Prime Minister’s office. The young woman put on a brave face and lifted her frame into a more dignified stance.
‘I got caught in the rain,’ she said. ‘I was sent to deliver some urgent mail and didn’t predict the sudden downpour. Foolish really, to have left without an umbrella. I do have one, but I left it behind at my desk …’ Lorna was rambling. Charles realised that she was nervous. He chose to believe that this was evidence for her feeling the same way about him as he did about her. He rose to his feet, not quite knowing what he was doing.
‘Anyway, I came to tell you that I am working late tonight. Faye had a family party to attend so I offered to work here until you were finished.’ Lorna looked up at him when she finished speaking and gone was the timid young girl who fluttered her eyelashes at him each morning; she had been replaced by a woman whose eyes now burnt with need and desire.
‘Close the door,’ Charles told her, still unsure what he was doing, instead running purely on instinct rather than logic. Lorna obliged as Charles crossed the short threshold of his office and came and stood beside her. He cupped her damp face in one hand, and with the other produced a key from his pocket and locked his office door. His heart was racing and his blood sped through his veins with such intensity that he felt as though his skin were covered in flames. He wanted this fire within him to consume Lorna; for them both to be devoured by his heat and leave only ashes behind.
Charles gazed at Lorna; he had never been so close to her before. She smelt of fresh rain, but beneath that he could smell roses. He wanted to say something to her, something wonderfully romantic and poetic to capture the moment, but he knew that he did not possess the words. Instead, he let his actions communicate his feelings.
Leaning forward, Charles pressed his lips against Lorna’s and kissed her. She melted into the passionate embrace and as they stood, kissing, time seemed to melt into obscurity. Lorna pulled herself away from him for long enough to release the noose around his neck and to unbutton the suit he’d had tailor made. Her wet clothes were soon scattered around the floor of the office. Charles carried her over to his desk and there made love to her for the first time. It was the most exciting moment of his life. He was no longer Charles Lloyd, married Deputy Prime Minister of England, he was just a man, and Lorna was just a woman. Having sex with her felt so natural and so right that he could not believe for even a second that what he was doing was wrong.
And so the affair began. Charles tried to be as discreet as possible, leaving hotel bookings to Lorna so as not to rouse suspicion in Faye, always under the provision of working late. They would arrive at the hotel at different times and leave separately. But there, within the luxury of whatever room was the setting of their current love nest, they could be together and shut the rest of the world out.
At first it was the sex which blew Charles away. Lorna knew things, did things, which he had never encountered. She was vastly experienced for her age, and this dismayed him somewhat when he realised that he was falling for her. The thought of her being with another man began to make him feel wretched, which he knew made him a hypocrite as he himself was married to another woman.
It was the moments after the fire and the passion, when Lorna would lie in his arms and they would talk, that the affair began to take on a deeper meaning. She shared his love of classic Hollywood movies, and so together they would watch Casablanca and Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Lorna would fall asleep in his arms; his own angel. During the first flushes of romance, Charles thought of nothing but Lorna. He would arrange for bouquets of roses to be delivered to her London flat, anonymously of course. He had never done anything like that before. He was in love and the sensation took him by surprise.
The couple tried to limit anything occurring at Downing Street again for fear of being caught. Hotels were their favourite location for romance but Charles found it increasingly difficult to be near Lorna in a professional sense and not be able to have her. He stole countless kisses behind closed doors, always feeling like it wasn’t enough. Charles Lloyd began to live in the present, something he had never been able to do. He was used to always planning ahead, always looking to his future. But with Lorna, the future was so uncertain; he had to exist in the here and now with her.
‘Eggs Benedict,’ Charles said the words aloud to his empty living room. It was Lorna’s favourite breakfast and she would order it each and every morning after they had spent the night together. She had tried it for the first time when they stayed at The Ritz and instantly loved it and would eat nothing else. Charles loved to watch her delight over the meal, savouring each bite. Lorna had a genuine love for life, from the food she ate to the movies she watched and the music she listened to. She was so passionate about everything and it was contagious. Charles was the happiest he had ever been, simply from having her in his life. But the reality of his situation was beginning to encroach upon their fantasy. One rare morning when he was at home, his wife got up and served him eggs Benedict, which promptly made Charles retch. The horror of who he was, of what he had become, was too much to bear. But Lorna was like a drug which he just could not get enough of. Away from her, he pined and longed for her; with her in his arms, he felt complete, content. He felt like he was home.
It was Faye who noticed. How could she not, with the affair being conducted right beneath her nose? She had remained silent for the best part of six months, turning the other cheek when Charles would request that Lorna work late for the fifth time that week. But as the months passed, she grew increasingly worried that her boss’ extra-curricular activities would cost him dearly if they were exposed, and that ultimately she too would be scalded when news of the affair boiled over. Her own reputation would become
