It was only just beginning to dawn on Grace Pritchard that the very particular special hell that she and her younger sister Emma, and any number of other past and present young adolescents endured on a daily basis, was exactly the connection that most of the major players in this present political debacle had in common. They were all long lost actors in a most untoward pantomime of sexual deviancy, all decidedly morally and criminally illegal. A teetering mound of maladjusted despicables awaiting a strong and robust hand to sweep them all into the gutter where they belonged by absolute right or regrettable circumstance.
The years of constant abuse and usury has all but erased any sense of wrongdoing or the possibility of redemption from Graces mind, she was close to being completely transformed into the exact epitome of all she detested, becoming a second-generation monster, oppressor, and antagonist, the treacherously exploited becoming the unrepentant misuser.
Such matters as right and wrong, intent, or remote and cunning schooling are entirely beyond the remit of law enforcement officers. Their responsibilities start and end with perceivable and provable guilt, a much more simple and straightforward perspective.
One of the most problematic issues with the probable exposition of this unpleasant fissure marring a largish sect of the overall population, with definitive tentacles, connections, reaching forth and leading to a measurable percentile of those involved being directly with that particularly volatile and vociferous segment of the extreme right wing membership of the conservative party, leading automtically to suspicion touching compadres, supporters, friends and family of most important and influential members and ancillaries in government, inclusive of the civil service, armed forces, security services, through multiple generations, much like is in the Spivey family.
Joanna Geraldine (Gerri) Spivey had yet to suspect the extremely unfortunate ramifications that emanated from the complex investigation she had most innocently become embroiled in. The penny, the slipper armed hand, was yet to drop to chastise.
When the very splendid limousine arrived back at the Spa Joanna was very surprised to find that Colonel Fergus Lothly had in the preceding few minutes departed back to Whitehall by a secondary mode of transport.
“Some very hurried hush hush sort of meeting. The Colonel suggested that he would return by evening time. He asked that you to arrange a late supper for him in his villa.”
Darlene Gillespie delivered the message with the slightest supercilious manner. Without second thought, and no apparent care if they were being overlooked, Joanna slapped Darlene very smartly on the right cheek with her left palm. The stinging blow resounded in the air like a rifle shot. As she has been very correctly trained Darlene simply clasped hands very tightly in from in front of her belly button and stared downwards ashamedly at her unforgivable sin of disappointing her better, wearing an appropriate somewhat pitiful expression. Joanna ignored Darlene’s display of pained submissiveness and simply flounced into her own apartment in a huff. She disliked being caught unawares by developing situations.
The frantic phone call from some easily forgettable undersecretary at the Home Office that had most unpleasantly disturbed the Colonels Lothly’s afternoon nap and caused him to very hurriedly make tracks back to the big smoke was hardly unexpected, although the tremors that the news had causes within the corridors of power was worrying, so much that Fergus had most unwillingly felt obliged to make the effort to pay to flying visit to base camp, and lay his most calming hands on some suddenly sweating brows.
The interior of his rapidly summonsed Jaguar was pleasant enough, perhaps not as comfortable as Gordon’s immaculate limousine, but beggars could not be choosers in an emergency, and it was but an hour and a half drive after all. This two-time Home Secretary was scrabbling, digging herself deeper and deeper into the mire she had so seemingly purposefully created from the previously quite stable footings of this latest enflowering of the regime.
Daily Abstract Thoughts 