‘You mean he’s gay?’ said Mervyn brightly.
‘Well, not gay exactly. Not in the accepted sense of the word—’
‘That’s a pity,’ said Mervyn. ‘We don’t have enough gay judges.’
‘Or lesbian judges,’ pointed out Magdala.
‘Indeed. Gay or lesbian. Gay and lesbian.’
‘Have we any?’ asked Ian Cole.
‘Any what?’ asked Sir Alastair.
‘Gay judges.’ Mervyn caught Magdala’s eye. ‘Or lesbian.’
‘I have not the faintest idea,’ sighed Sir Alastair. ‘Julian, you were saying?’
‘Well, as I understand it, he has been known to have … ah … relations with both men and women, but I really don’t see how—’
Magdala interrupted. ‘You mean he’s bi.’ She glanced round the group and met a few perplexed expressions. ‘Bisexual.’ Faces cleared.
‘Yes, I believe that’s the term,’ murmured Julian.
‘Well, that’s wonderful!’ exclaimed Mervyn. ‘To have a bisexual on the bench – it makes us look very liberal and open-minded. I don’t suppose there’s any chance that he’s TG?’ Faces looked perplexed once more. ‘Transgender. I went to a diversity workshop about all this. Or undergoing GR? Undergoing gender reassignment? It’s when they perform surgery to remove—’
‘TMI,’ said Dudley abruptly. More perplexed faces.
‘Too much information,’ said Magdala impatiently. ‘Can we—?’
‘Because,’ went on Mervyn, ‘that really would be a feather in our cap.’
‘The government is very keen on that kind of thing,’ agreed Ian Cole. ‘Wasn’t Gordon Brown going on recently about celebrating BLTs, or something?’
‘No, no.’ Baroness Paradeep shook her head. ‘A BLT is a kind of sandwich. It was something else. LGTG? Yes, that’s it, I think – lesbian, gay, transgender, maybe.’
‘It’s lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender,’ sighed Magdala. ‘LGBT.’
‘Gordon Brown wouldn’t know anything about that. He just parrots these things out.’
‘I think we’re straying from the point,’ interjected Lady Daphne. ‘A candidate’s sexual life is neither here nor there. And I think it’s rather patronising to seek to elevate people because of their sexual orientation.’ Mervyn folded his arms. ‘The fact is, Leo Davies is an outstanding candidate. He certainly appears to fulfil all the intellectual and professional criteria and I, for one, am not prepared to look beyond that.’ She glanced at Sir Vivian. ‘Does that answer your concerns?’
Sir Vivian inclined his head gravely. ‘I merely feel I have a duty to ensure that this committee is fully informed of matters which may affect a candidate’s acceptability. I fully accept that a person’s sexuality should be neither here nor there, but when in their private life an individual has strayed more than once into areas of potential – or actual – scandal, one has to ask if there is not a danger that at some point in the future that person’s behaviour might affect their ability to discharge what is, after all, a vitally important public office, and one which calls for the very highest standards of personal integrity and responsibility.’
These portentous words had the desired effect on the rest of the committee.
Sir Alastair looked solemn. ‘You say scandal. I was not aware—’
‘Wasn’t there something a few years back,’ mused Gregory Hind, ‘about some woman attempting to commit suicide, and he was involved in some way? I forget the details.’
‘You are correct. It was a matter involving a female journalist who, I believe, had incriminating information concerning Mr Davies which he was anxious should not get into the public realm,’ supplied Sir Vivian. This was more than a slight distortion of the truth, but he knew that no one’s memory would be long enough to recall the real events. The incident in question had involved an obsessed and somewhat batty tabloid journalist who had stalked Leo for months, and who had ultimately made a botched suicide attempt to gain the attention not only of Leo, but of the rest of the world. The story had made it to the front page of The Sun. ‘She tried to kill herself,’ went on Sir Vivian, ‘but failed, and thereafter the matter was hushed up.’
The faces of the committee registered concern, not to say interest. Sir Vivian continued, ‘A year earlier Mr Davies’ name was also linked to the death in suspicious – indeed, somewhat unnatural – circumstances of a civil servant, whom I shall not name, though he was in fact the principal private secretary to a prominent member of the cabinet of the day. That individual was known to frequent male brothels – a subsequent police raid on one of these places revealed the involvement of underage youths who were supposed to be in the care of the local authority. And after his death it was also revealed that the individual had been involved in blackmailing men in public office who were in fact gay, but who did not wish it to become publically known. He and Mr Davies were close friends, and their social paths often crossed, so how narrowly Mr Davies avoided being caught up in these scandalous events is not for me to say—’