Chapter 44 In which Charlie shows his true colours

As Charlie Windsor had ended their call rather abruptly, Pangloss stared for a few seconds at the now silent telephone receiver still in his hand before pressing the buzzer on his intercom.
'Jenny, can you come through please? I need you to explain a few things to me.'
'What can I do for you, Dr Pangloss?' asked his secretary as she breezed into the office.
'I want to know all about this business in the paper - what's Charlie Windsor been saying about Brian Localbloke?'
'Oh, it's quite simple, ' said Jenny, 'but it all started with this Tory MP called Derek Conway, who lives miles away from Westphalia-on-Sea. Apparently he paid one of his sons £45,000 from public funds while he was a full-time student at Newcastle University. Then it turned out he had paid his elder son £32,000 in similar circumstances. Of course, there are no records of these two twerps doing any work for this money, so in most people's eyes it's a case of embezzlement and theft.'
'Crikey, he sounds a nasty piece of work. Is he going to be banged up? He might have to be someone's bitch in prison - I've heard about that sort of thing.'
'Oh no, he's just been given ten days off work. Anyway that's not all. It seems that over the past six years the Conway family members were paid £374,401 in parliamentary allowances. Oh yes, and one of his sons organised a theme party with the title 'Fuck Off I'm Rich.''
'I see. But what's all this got to do with Charlie Windsor and Brian Localbloke?'
'Well, you know that Charlie Windsor is desperate to get his face in the paper at any opportunity, so he tried to imply that Brian Localbloke is doing something underhand because he employs his wife as his office manager.'
'But that's ridiculous. Even I know that Brian is an honest kind of guy. I must say I didn't quite realise what a greasy little shit Charlie could be. And anyway, everyone knows he's only here to try and get himself an MP's salary and allowances himself - it's not as if he gives a flying fuck about the locals anyway.'
'Yes quite, but it doesn't end there. Apparently Tarquin Pompous-Duffer, the Tory MP for Toadness, has employed his daughter as well, so now he's caught up in it all, and it turns out his last claim for staffing costs was more than Brian Localbloke's.'
'Blimey, old Charlie doesn't want to get on the wrong side of Mr Pompous-Duffer; he'll have him horse-whipped or keel-hauled or something.'
'Yes, well there have been a few letters in the paper pointing out that Charlie's attack on Localbloke is altogether misguided, not to mention downright hypocritical when it's your and his fellow Tories who are busy filling their pockets.'
'Crikey, I don't want to be tarred with the same brush. I wonder if it's time I moved back to Lib-Dems, or tried a different party altogether?'
'How about the Monster Raving Loony Party?' suggested his secretary. 'I'm only kidding - I don't think you'd get in - you're a bit too straight. But look, the locals think you're an overpaid clown sleepwalking from one disaster to another, selling off precious parts of the bay and throwing their hard-earned cash hand over fist at half-witted consultants, but I don't believe they think you're dishonest.'
'Well thank you for that resounding vote of confidence, Jenny,' said Pangloss, and he allowed his face to crack into a little smile, 'that's most reassuring.'