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Lord Archer: The Next Chapter
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The Jeffrey Archer saga continues, following his move back to a closed jail.
Lord Archer broke the terms of his home leave by going to a party hosted by former Tory minister, Gillian Shepherd. The Home Office has described the incident as a "serious breach of trust" and Jeffrey Archer himself is said to be "hurt and upset".
Meanwhile, the press release for his next book, 'Sons of Fortune' has arrived on the desk of Today's Dominic Arkwright. He theorised as to how the next chapter may read. Due to popular demand you can see the text below, or listen to Dominic's reading by selecting the link in the right-hand column.
THE ARCHER STORY
By Dominic Arkwright
It is often tiny decisions, sometimes made by others, that can change our whole lives.
The ink was barely dry on the brown paper envelope when Jefferson Bathchair summoned his secretary.
"I want it delivered by hand", he said. "Victoria station".
She knew what she had to do and inwardly her heart was consumed by jealousy.
Their hands briefly touched as she turned elegantly and headed for the heavy oak-panelled door, glancing back for the merest fraction of a second as she disappeared into the heavy London rain.
He'd known many women, but somehow she was special. If ever he needed anybody, he needed her now. Nobody must know about this. The very name of the family was at stake. He vowed to do everything it took to defend his name and sighed powerfully as he slid the gold pen back into the antique silver holder on the exquisitely carved rococo escritoire. He fixed himself a large whisky (single malt of course, Lagavulin 16 year old) and reflected grimly on the latest twist in his rollercoaster life.
Bathchair knew how to live. And he knew how to die too. He'd been both places and was determined not to go back to the gutter. He'd fought back once. And now, a self-made multi-billionaire on the threshold of becoming Prime Minister of the United Kingdom and Archbishop of Canterbury, he wondered pensively whether he had the energy to fight back twice. Despite his friendships with people in high places, the very highest places, something gnawed at him.
He picked up the telephone. Fixed up dinner with his oldest friend. As he replaced the onyx receiver, his secretary returned, brushing his lips lightly, as she greeted the man she had come to adore.
"A date for the diary", he said. "Dinner with Fred".
"When", she replied.
"Last Thursday", he said, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
"I hope nobody ever asks me about this" she thought.
Norman unlocked the door and then carefully locked it again, chuckling happily at the heavy clunk as the bolt slid back. "That's what you get for telling porkies" he thought to himself. Norman was a screw at South Sea Camp. He slipped off to the canteen. Since being separated from his twin brother at birth, life had dealt him a series of deuces. He often wondered what his brother, two minutes older than him, was doing now. Was he successful? Was he rich? Would they ever meet? Idly pushing his curled dry burger around the plate, he imagined the circumstance of their first meeting. He had no idea how wrong he was.
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Jeffrey Archer |
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Lincoln Prison, where Lord Archer was moved after breaking the rules at his open prison |
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