“I wouldn’t let you leave the House if I didn’t—there’s too much at stake.” “At stake. Ha-ha.” At his frown, I winced. “Sorry. I kid when I’m nervous.”

“You slept with Curran and you didn’t tell me? I’m your best friend.”“It didn’t come up.”“How disappointing for you.”Ha-ha. “That’s not what I meant.”

“But I am, personally, not a gambler. I wouldn’t spend £1 on the lottery, let alone take a punt on a pregnancy. The stakes are far, far too high. I can’t agree with a society that would force me to bet on how much I could love under duress.”

“His eyebrows pulled in. “You won’t leave me, right? Even when I’m a pain in the ass?”“I vowed in front of God – and Elvis – that I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”

“Of course you would, Mitt," Reagan said. "Well, I’m glad we understand each other, and I think your father would be proud of you being in his old spot, and I want you to know that when I’m choosing my Secretary of Housing and Urban Development, your resumé will be on the very top of the pile. It’s been great chatting with you but you know, I have to find a vice presidential candidate, and soon.”“Ha, ha, ha, ah it’s been great chatting with you, too, Mr. President, and—”Reagan cocked his head slightly, smiled, and caught the eye of a minion; a moment later Romney had been deposited outside the door like a discarded room service tray, having barely had time to shift from ha, ha, ha back to ah…ah…”

“Kidding?” He asked; rolling the foreign word over in his mouth like he tasted something sour. “Yeah, you know. Joking. Ha ha ha.” I said.”