First Among Equals By Jeffrey Archer

Saturday, April 27, 1991 KING CHARLES III made the final decision. The election had duly taken place as decreed by royal proclamation. The polling booths had been closed, the votes counted, the computers turned off ...

Saturday, April 27, 1991 KING CHARLES III made the final decision. The election had duly taken place as decreed by royal proclamation. The polling booths had been closed, the votes counted, the computers turned off-, and the experts and amateurs alike had collapsed into their beds in disbelief when they had heard the final result. The new King had been unable to sleep that Friday night while he considered yet again all the advice that had been offered to him by his courtiers during the past twenty-four hours. The choice he had been left with was by no means simple, considering how recently he had ascended the throne. A few minutes after Big Ben had struck 6 A.M., the morning papers were placed in the corridor outside his bedroom. The King slipped quietly out of bed, put on his dressing gown and smiled at the startled footman when be opened the door. The King gathered up the papers in his arms and took them through to the morning room in order that the Queen would not be disturbed. Once he had settled comfortably into his favorite chair, he turned to the editorial pages. Only one subject was wortfiy of their attention that day. The Fleet Street editors had all come to the same conclusion. The result of the election could not have been closer, and the new King had been placed in a most delicate position as to whom he should call to be his first Prime Minister. Most of the papers went on to give the King their personal advice on whom he should consider according to their own political affiliations. The London Times alone offered no such opinion, but suggested merely that His Majesty would have to show a great deal of courage and fortitude in facing his first constitutional crisis if the monarchy was to remain credible in a modern world. The fort y-three-year-old King dropped the papers on the floor by the side of his chair and considered once again the problems of which man to select. What a strange game politics was, he considered. Only a short time ago there had been clearly three men to consider, and then suddenly one of them was no longer a contender. The two men remaining-who he suspected had also not slept that night – could not have been more different – and yet in some ways they were so alike. They had both entered the House of Commons in 1964 and had then conducted glittering careers in their twentyfive years as members of Parliament. Between them they had held the portfolios of Trade, Defense, the Foreign Office and the Exchequer before being elected to lead their respective parties. As Prince of Wales, the King had watched them both from the sidelines and grown to admire their different contributions to public life. On a personal level, he had to admit, he had always liked one while respecting the other. The King checked his watch and then pressed a bell on the table by his side. A valet dressed in a royal blue uniform entered the room as if he had been waiting outside the door all night. He began to lay out the King’s morning suit as the monarch went into the adjoining room where his bath had already been drawn. When the King returned he dressed in silence before taking a seat at a small table by the window to be served breakfast. He ate alone. He had left firm instructions that none of the children were to disturb him. At eight o’clock he retired to his study to listen to the morning news. There was nothing fresh to report. The commentators were now only waiting to discover which man would be invited to the palace to kiss hands. At nine-fifteen he picked up the phone. “Would you come up now, please,” was all he said. A moment later the Kini ‘s private sccretary entered the room. He bowed, but ,,aid nothing, as he could see the monarch was preoccupied. It was several moments before the King spoke. “I have made my decision,” he said quietly.