“Boris! Will you come to bed!” Carrie pleaded for the fourth time, whilst holding open the covers in a mildly seductive manner.
“I can’t, Squirrel, not with all this nonsense going around in my head. It seems like even Cressie has betrayed me now, who have we got left, tell me that, who?”
“You don’t know that, Boris, you are panicking, She told you it wasn’t leaked by the Met, and why would she lie? She’s got enough to deal with, what with Sadiq baying for her blood. She needs you as much as you need her, Boris, stop worrying! You have plenty of moves to play yet before this is over.”
“You’re right my little pumpkin, you always know what to say and do, that’s why I love you so much...”
“Oh charming, not because I’m the mother of your children and the love of your life then?” she quipped lightly heartily.
“Eh, eh, eh,” he stumbled predictably, now visibly unable to partake in any meaningful conversation.
The scares of all the lies seemed to be weighing down heavy on him now, she noticed.
“Eh, no, no, quite,” he mumbled as he flicked his hair across his brow, slowly catching on to the joke. “You know I didn’t mean it like that, Squirrel. But seriously, the fact is someone leaked that nice photo of me at Christmas and I don’t know who!”
“That’s the problem: ‘you don’t know’. You’re a control freak, Boris. It doesn’t matter who, just that it’s out there and we need to get your story right. You can’t just plead the fifth on this one I’m afraid!”
“Yes maybe, erm... but deflecting the attention somewhere else didn’t work either, did it? You can’t blame me for all of this. I warned you that using Jimmy Saville’s name might upset a few people, who knew it would rile them quite so much though!”
“Don’t start blaming me, Boris! Look, it's late and I’m not having this argument again tonight, now go to sleep. All will become clear in the morning.”
“Okay,” Boris sighed, surrendering his position once again. “My money’s on Cummings, the bastard! Night night my pumpkin,” he whispered, as he stretched over and switched off the light.
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