Is David!, no is Nick Clegg’s escorted Jaguar pulled away from number 10 Downing Street, he leant back against the leather upholstery and truly, he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
You couldn’t even write a film script of this that would be believable. Trust Miriam to drop a bombshell like that, you could always rely on her for that.
Still, things could have been worse, he smiled to himself. The opulent luxury of the car impressed him. As party leader, he had been treated well in his time, especially during the run up to the election, but this was on a different level. Leather upholstery, walnut trim, and was that carpet Axminster? A man could get used to living like this. Well, actually, if he played his cards right, he would be living like this. Still, it had come as a bit of a shock when Miriam first announced her suspicions, then later in the cold light of day he had thought that she must be mistaken. But then of course looking into all the facts her information appeared to be correct….. God, the press must not get hold of this at any cost.
They would all be finished if that were the case. Including David. Especially David.
That would ruin everything for all of them, after all their hard work over the last few days to form a strategic alliance. As long as the press didn’t have ask too many questions about why on this occasion the LibDems had unexpectedly chosen to work with the Conservatives instead of Labour, and why David Cameron and his team had been quite happy to give up many of the top jobs in the Cabinet to the LibDems, including the office of Deputy Prime Minister. If nobody asked too many questions or put two and two together they would be O.K.
Still, it rankled when the press gleefully asked them both what they thought about now having to work together when at every opportunity in the recent past they had been at each other’s throats. If only they knew the truth. Damn Miriam and her genealogy! If only she had kept her pet project at bay after they married, Lord knows he begged her too, saying that she would have enough to keep her busy as a politician’s wife. Clegg commanded the driver to continue straight past the waiting hoards of paparazzi gathering outside the palace of Westminster. The driver silently obeyed without question, used to being spoken to in this manner.
But of course she hadn’t stopped looking into his family history and what she had found had prompted David to request blood tests.
The irony of it all! He stifled a laugh. How many times had he read in the press that they even looked like each other, how many times had he seen their photos side by side, only for the truth to be this? It was beyond belief, really. That may be their only saving grace – that nobody would believe it. After all, who would have guessed that he and David were half-brothers?
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