Polls Apart (11 page)

Henry had stepped back to let Richard past and had then loitered around the table again looking sheepishly in Anna’s direction.

“Can I sit down a minute, Anna?” he finally asked.

“Yes,” she’d replied sharply.

Once he’d awkwardly manoeuvred his long limbs into the nearest thing he could find to a comfortable position, Henry cleared his throat, making it clear he was about to embark on a speech. He quickly glanced over at Don and Ray just to check they were still safely tied up in animated conversation before turning to Anna.

“Look, Anna. These past few weeks have been tough on all of us…”

“Some more than others,” she quipped.

“Well, that may be true, but I’ve paid a heavy price for what’s gone on too.”

“If you’re talking about you and Joy then you only have yourself to blame.”

“There are two sides to every story,” he corrected. “Life with Joy could be extremely frustrating – and she’s certainly not the victim she likes to portray herself as. She was quite jealous of you, you know. She felt your good looks had granted you a very easy passage in life – which I must say, had tainted my view of you at times. She couldn’t have been more wrong, of course.” He leant in closer to Anna looking for a reaction, but opted to move on quickly when he found none. “That’s all irrelevant now, I suppose. For her part, she said she found me way too domineering – particularly over her relationship with you.” Henry was staring forlornly at his shoes, like a recently chastised schoolboy.

“And is that true Henry?”

“I suppose it is, Anna. I’ve just been so determined to let nothing slip and to make sure we’re all in tune, as it were, that I put her under more pressure than was right.”

Against her better judgment, Anna allowed in a small amount of sympathy, which, once implanted, became difficult to suppress.

“I’m sorry she left, Henry. It must be tough. But you have to know that you have caused both Richard and me a great deal of pain lately – and I think you’re lucky to have kept your job.”

“I know, I know,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve thought of little else these last couple of days and I can only apologise. I also know that you will find it hard to trust me now, but all I can say is I have only ever had both Richard’s and the Social Democrats’ best interests at heart. I don’t always get it right, but I am not selfishly motivated – and I can assure you that I will never interfere in your marriage again. You have my word.”

Henry was looking directly at Anna now and she realised she was going to have to jump one way or the other.

“Well, I’ve not always behaved perfectly myself, Henry. And Joy had quite a bit to say to me about the way I treated her. Maybe we should all put the last few weeks down to a learning experience and wipe the slate clean. Do you know Joy resigned as my
PR
?”

“Yes, Richard told me. I can’t think what she’s going to do next. Maybe head to Thailand or something to “find herself”. I wouldn’t put anything past Joy,” he smiled.

“She’s certainly unpredictable,” Anna agreed.

Henry’s face suddenly tightened again as he worked his way up to another serious note.

“I’m grateful that you can try and put everything behind you. But I need to acknowledge that I shouldn’t have pushed you out. I was utterly wrong and I know I’m lucky to still be here after what happened.”

He held out his hand and Anna extended hers in return before they shook firmly.

“Thank you, Anna,” Henry said, his face visibly relaxing. “I’ve been a bloody arse, but I just want this win so badly – for Richard, the party, and for the country. I think I’ve learnt my lesson, but you just let me know if I step over the mark again, will you?”

“That’s one thing I can guarantee, Henry,” Anna smiled.

Reggie felt sick to his stomach as he waited for Kelvin to make his grand entrance for the manifesto launch. Having worked with the Prime Minister for the last three years, Reggie was used to his late starts but, today of all days, he particularly didn’t appreciate the torture of having to stand beside an impatient press pack all growing increasingly frustrated at the delay. When he’d texted the Deputy
PM
to ask what the hold-up was he’d received the brief and cryptic reply: “Last-minute tweaking.”

Just as Reggie was about to burst from the room to personally hunt Kelvin down, the door opened and the
PM
entered wearing a broad smile that suggested he was completely oblivious to the half-hour wait he had subjected his audience to.

He strutted casually to the platform, before stopping in front of the large screen that carried their election slogan: Better for Britain.

He launched quickly into some of the Alliance Party’s more familiar pledges before hitting on the new income tax cut. Reggie knew this would be seen as a desperate attempt to win over voters, but it was the best card in their pack right now.

Reggie watched the smirking faces of the reporters as Kelvin banged on about a better-off Britain and just knew tomorrow’s headlines would be merciless. Reggie decided it was better to switch off, rather than mentally record the agony, so he allowed his thoughts to roam and his eyes to wander around the room.

He looked over the row of cameramen squashed together at the back and wandered what job satisfaction they could possibly get out of a press conference like this where all they had to do was stand like dodos, mindlessly recording the moment. Then, a glint of red hair caught his eye and he realised there was a woman standing on her own just to the side of the cameras.

Reggie racked his brain as to who this woman could be. He thought there was something familiar about her, but he felt pretty sure she wasn’t a journalist and certain she hadn’t been authorised by him to attend. So if he hadn’t authorised it, who had?

Then Reggie looked at her more closely and started working through a few possibilities, his mind hovering around make-up artist or civil servant when an alarm bell suddenly sounded within. He knew exactly who this was. It was Joy Gooding. And before he could even start to question why she might be there, he arrived at the answer. He’d heard she’d left Henry Morton and was no longer looking after Anna Lloyd so he bet she’d come knocking on Kelvin’s door – probably with the suggestion of insider information – and he’d fallen for it. That moron, Reggie thought. He couldn’t imagine what a showbiz
PR
could possibly have to offer a Prime Minister, other than advice on where he should have his teeth whitened. But then, Reggie realised, that was exactly the type of information that would impress Kelvin who he believed should never be left on his own, even for a minute, to make a decision. Joy Gooding, he was quite certain, would spell nothing but trouble.

Both the hospital tour and walk-about in Derby had gone to plan and Anna sensed a quiet confidence growing once again in the
SDP
camp. Richard seemed happy and relaxed and even Henry had started joking again. When a hospital consultant had talked them through a new cosmetic surgery technique they had been successfully using on burns patients, Henry had teased Anna about the rumours that had circulated in the press a year ago that she’d had a slight facelift. “Is that the same procedure you had?” he’d cheekily whispered, prompting Anna to dig him sharply in the ribs with her elbow. And later, when they were back on the bus heading towards their next stop, Leicester, she’d heard Henry calling Richard “Dicky” again, when they were talking privately. It felt good to Anna to be back on familiar territory after so much uncertainty. And whether Henry’s apology had been genuine or not, there was no denying the great sense of camaraderie on the battle bus, with the events of the last couple of weeks only serving to motivate the
SDP
leadership even further in their quest for power.

They’d parted with Don Monteith in Derby as he’d had to catch a train back down to London, but he’d spent the best part of the day with them and had provided a real boost to the campaign when he told reporters outside Derby General that there was “no one else for the job but Richard Williams”.

“If the Social Democrats don’t win this election then we’ve only got ourselves to blame for the mess this country will end up in with four more years of an Alliance government,” he’d said.

“The last eight years of Alliance rule have brought us back to the same shameful class divide that has been the scourge of this nation. It’s time for change and it’s time we put stupid gossip and headlines to one side and voted for a true leader not some jumped up twit, who’s only interested in lining his own pockets and those of his rich friends.”

Anna and Henry had watched in great amusement as Richard, who was standing next to Don outside the hospital, desperately tried to stifle a laugh. Only someone who didn’t work in politics could get away with such a direct hit. But they all knew that Don Monteith had landed a real blow to the Alliance Party – and to Kelvin in particular.

Anna had chosen to sit on her own towards the back of the bus while Henry and Richard worked on the next speech to be made in Leicester where they were to visit a new police station. It had been a very long day so she rolled up her cardigan, propped it against the window and attempted to get some rest.

She thought about Joy and wondered what she’d be doing now. Which new actress or presenter would she be pursuing for a contract? She felt a little wrench inside at the thought they would never work together again. Joy would surely have enjoyed the cut and thrust of life on the campaign trail – and Anna thought her experience of managing hordes of press would have come in very handy at times. Still, she comforted herself with the thought that Joy would soon have tired of all the policy speak and petty in-fighting and would probably be better off as far away from politics as she could get.

Typically, just as Anna was drifting off she heard her mobile phone ringing. Her first thought was to leave it, but curiosity got the better of her and she reached into her bag. It was Libby.

“Hi Libs,” she said, sounding a little woozy.

“You sound knackered. Has the early start got to you?”

“It’s only my first day of campaigning and, yes, I’m already exhausted.”

“Oh well, just another twenty-three blistering days to go,” Libby joked. “Anyway,” she continued. “I thought you should know I’ve been very active on your behalf today. I sent an email out to all your media contacts letting them know I’m handling the press side of things for you and the phone’s not stopped ringing since. I’ve had lots of offers and requests for interviews – including loads of
TV
stuff.”

Anna laughed at Libby’s breathless excitement.

“Sounds great, Libs. No interviews until after the election now though.”

“I know, I know. I told them that. What a few of them did say though was that Joy stopped returning their calls two weeks ago. So I don’t know what she’s been up to, but she’s clearly not been doing the job you were paying her to do.”

Anna sighed. “I don’t know what to think about Joy any more. She made out it was all Henry’s doing, and that she was bullied into this and that, but I’m beginning to doubt that now. I think she had her own agenda going on.”

“Well, if you’ve already arrived at that conclusion then that makes what I’m about to tell you a bit easier.”

“Oh no, what?” Anna demanded anxiously.

“I was watching the launch of the Alliance manifesto on
TV
earlier and I could swear I spotted Joy there at the back of the press conference.”

“But, what would she be doing there?”

“Well, what do you think Anna? She’s not a reporter, she’s a so-called
PR
expert.”

“You think she’s working for Kelvin?”

“Looks like it, I’m afraid.”

“Shit,” Anna said, reeling from the implications. “That back-stabbing bitch.” She looked over to where Henry and Richard were sitting and saw Henry locked in conversation on his mobile phone. She studied the way his face had fallen, the confusion registering in his eyes. “Looks like Henry already knows,” she told Libby.

“Poor sod. He may have his faults but he didn’t deserve that.”

“No,” Anna replied. “None of us did.”

T
uesday, 14
th April, UK Newswire – The Social Democrats today regained a ten-point lead on the Alliance Party after the opposition leader, Richard Williams, enjoyed a major upturn in public support following his reunion with Anna Lloyd.

The latest poll results also follow a high-profile day of campaigning for Williams and his wife in Derby, where they were joined by the Oscar-winning film director, Don Monteith.

The group visited Derby General Hospital where they met staff and patients. Monteith and Williams then spoke to reporters outside, where the film director launched a ferocious attack on the Prime Minister, Kelvin Davis.

Monteith accused the
PM
of “lining his own pockets”, an accusation that infuriated the Alliance leadership.

An Alliance Party spokesperson said Monteith had “overstepped the mark by a clear mile” and should publicly apologise for his “totally unfair comments”.

Davis was yesterday in Cardiff where he visited a new waterside housing development. He used the visit to pledge Alliance support to the beleaguered construction industry and vowed to reinject confidence into Britain’s ailing property market.

He also launched a veiled attack on Williams’ reunion with Anna Lloyd, after the two were briefly separated following newspaper claims about the actress’s past.

Davis said: “When you vote Alliance, you vote for a party of courage, a party of change and a party of commitment. We won’t chop and change our minds at the drop of a hat – or according to what the latest opinion polls suggest about our private and professional lives. We are a party of integrity and a party of clear vision.”

Richard worked hard to steady his breathing as he took his final steps towards the conference room at Victoria Street
HQ
. He knew once the door was opened all eyes would be on him and that he would have to give a confident and controlled performance in order to maintain their lead in the polls. Anna had shown him the breathing exercises several months ago after press criticism that he found it hard to suppress his nerves, which could be heard in his sometimes shaky voice. He had doubted that such a simple thing as taking deep breaths from the stomach could make any significant impact on a career-long problem, but it had actually worked a treat, and he was now frequently described as a “polished performer” when he gave important speeches.

Henry walked by his side chattering away in his right ear, trying to give him last-minute advice. The odd words: “sincerity”, “conviction”, “humility” would creep through, but otherwise Richard remained silently focused on the task ahead. With all that had gone on over the last two weeks, he could not afford to slip up, even minorly. He felt the adrenalin start to course through him and he fought desperately to hold his nerve. If he let fear take over, it could finish him. Henry opened the side door to the conference room and they parted ways as Richard headed towards the podium and his head of communications slipped off to join Anna, Ray and Bob at the back.

Richard continued to breathe deeply before swallowing hard as he took up his position behind the glass stand. He had taken the decision on the bus from Derby the day before to speak without notes. He and Henry had felt it would provide a sharp contrast to Kelvin’s highly-scripted speech the day before.

He glanced around the room and found Anna’s eyes staring intently back at him. The photographers snapped away, capturing the look that said “I support you”. Richard smiled and remembered why he was standing there, with the Democrats’ election slogan “The Courage for Change” ringing in his ears. He was there to bring hope to a nation that had become despondent in the face of a fierce recession and an inept government who didn’t want to rock the boat by taking some of the tough decisions that were necessary to fight back.

“If anyone is in any doubt,” Richard began. “I’m here to fight.” He locked the audience in a determined stare.

“I am here to fight for a country that has been buoyed up with false promises of wealth and prosperity for all, then dropped from the greatest of heights. The house that had been built on sand crumbled to the ground.

“I’m here to fight for the tough economic and taxation changes that must be put into place if we are to rise to be a proud nation again.

“And I’m here to fight for those of you who have worked hard only to find that your pensions have been whittled away, or your jobs have been lost or are now unstable.

“There is a choice – and that is change.”

Richard paused briefly and looked across the room, the audience partially obscured by the camera lights that gave him a sense of remoteness from those he was addressing. What effect his words were having on them he didn’t know, but he was being guided by a stronger force now: self belief. He no longer feared forgetting his words – because they had been etched into his mind over years of planning and preparation for the job he believed he was destined to do. He didn’t know why, but it was a belief he had possessed from a young age watching a succession of governments and leaders and thinking “I can do better”.

So, as he carefully set out the Democrats’ plans to increase the higher level of taxation, whilst increasing spending on health, policing and schools and a pensions insurance scheme for all, he knew that his speech would be part of history.

When he had covered their key policy pledges he stopped for a few seconds just to savour the moment. He looked across to the film crews perched at the back of the room, then the rows of reporters, leading to the pool of photographers at the front. The cameras continued to flash, but the place was otherwise completely silent.

He took another deep breath and spoke his remaining few lines slowly, emphasising every word. “I am here to make sure we fulfil our promises. To deliver for Britain. Sometimes there will be difficult decisions to make and challenges to overcome, but we have the courage for change.”

Richard smiled graciously as his colleagues, and a good contingent of the press, applauded his speech. He looked across towards Henry and Anna who were grinning and clapping enthusiastically and he knew it had gone as well as he thought. Now all they needed to do was cross the finish line, and pray no one would throw any other obstacles in their way.

Joy could tell Reggie hated her from the first moment they locked horns. The confrontation had come during a debriefing in Kelvin’s office after Monday’s manifesto launch. Joy had thought Kelvin came over as a little “stiff and rehearsed” while Reggie seemingly thought the whole thing had gone fabulously. Joy soon gathered that Reggie would say anything Kelvin did or said was wonderful, even when it was clearly far from it.

He had quickly seized on the opportunity to try and assert himself over her in front of their boss, saying: “Joy, I know you’re keen to make an impact on your first day, but politics is very different from showbusiness. When you stand up as an actor or actress, you simply want people to like you, but when you stand up as a politician they need to trust and respect you.”

“Well, thank you for that wonderful insight,” Joy had sarcastically replied. “But you know, I had actually worked that one out for myself and, even with that in mind, I still think we need to get Kelvin looking more natural so that the audience can focus entirely on what he’s saying, rather than how he’s saying it.”

Reggie had simply sneered in response but Joy had felt very unsettled when she noticed Kelvin scowling from the other side of the desk. Clearly, she hadn’t been appointed to tell him the truth. She was only there to inflict as much damage as possible on the other side. And even Joy had to admit she was the perfect candidate for that job. Henry had caused her nothing but anxiety and self-doubt over the last few years and this was her chance to pay him back and regain some respect for herself. If it hurt Anna and Richard too – as it inevitably would – she wasn’t going to lose any sleep. Neither of them had actually cared about her. They had both been way too self-absorbed to worry about the welfare of those around them.

Today, she had been given the task of analysing Richard’s manifesto speech and reporting back on any chinks in his armour. Trouble was, despite studying the footage three times, she couldn’t really find much. Since his reunion with Anna, it was clear Richard had got back into his stride and was now sprinting to the finish.

Joy watched closely as the cameras then panned across to Anna laughing happily in the crowd with Henry. She couldn’t believe those two had become pally again so quickly. She felt so rejected as she sat alone watching the three people she had once really loved and cared about. The pain of imagining them all emerging victorious on May the
7
th was just too much for Joy to bear. So if there were no chinks in Richard’s armour right now they were going to have to create some.

Joy’s mobile started ringing and she sighed loudly when she recognised Reggie’s number.

“Where are you, Joy?” he demanded as though she was an errant teenager.

“I’m just finishing up reviewing Richard Williams’ manifesto speech like you asked me to.”

“So what are your thoughts?”

Joy’s mind raced. She couldn’t tell him she’d just sat watching
TV
for the last two hours without reaching a conclusion so she stalled for time.

“I think his confidence is peaking and we need to do something about it.”

“And what do you suggest?” Reggie had asked sceptically.

“Let’s have coffee and I’ll talk you through what I have in mind.”

Joy ended the call as quickly as possible. She only had fifteen minutes in which to come up with an idea that would help win Reggie and Kelvin’s trust and establish her as part of the team. She knew she had one fallback plan but she wasn’t sure whether she had the guts to put it into action. Because if she did, she would become public enemy number one with the three people she had once been closest to.

Marie had been actively avoiding Damian all morning. The truth was she had been too scared to call Joy Gooding because she hadn’t yet worked out her approach. “Hi. I hear you’ve split up from your husband, want to tell the
Sunday Echo
why?” Somehow, she couldn’t see her falling for that one. So her only other option was to come up with a veiled threat. “A very trustworthy source has given us details of your acrimonious split with Henry Morton – do you want to tell the story from your side?”

Marie decided that was definitely the best line to take and, once she’d settled on it, she knew the only thing to do was take the plunge. She reached for the handset on her desk phone and had just started to punch in Joy’s number when her own mobile rang. She checked the screen on the handset and could hardly believe her eyes when she realised the number displayed was the very one she had been about to call.

“Hello,” Marie answered cautiously.

“Hello Marie, it’s Joy Gooding here,” she announced confidently. “We’ve spoken several times in the past when I represented Anna Lloyd.”

“Yes, I remember Joy. Have you been speaking to Damian? Did he ask you to call me?” Marie enquired, still baffled as to the timing of Joy’s call.

“Damian? No, I haven’t spoken to him in years, thank God.” The two laughed. “No, I called because I have a story for you.”

“Oh?” Things were looking up, thought Marie.

“Yes, but first I must tell you this isn’t going to come from me but a very well-placed source, do you understand?”

“Of course.”

“Well,” Joy began in hushed, conspiratorial tones. “As you know, until a few days ago I worked very closely with Anna Lloyd and was never far from her side in the weeks leading to her separation from Richard Williams.”

“I can imagine,” said Marie expectantly.

“Yes, and I thought you’d be interested to know that I witnessed several nasty rows between them which will shed new light on what really caused their separation.”

“Do you have time to meet this afternoon, Joy?”

“I’d rather do this by phone.”

“No problem,” Marie replied. She needed to check Damian would be happy with the alternative story before she stepped down from pursuing the line he’d asked her to follow about Joy’s own marriage. “I’ll call you back within an hour.”

She strode over to Damian’s office and tapped on his door, and from the way he quickly closed down a couple of pages on his computer as he beckoned her in, she could tell he hadn’t been looking at anything connected to work.

“How’s the Gooding story coming along then? You got my splash yet?”

“Yes,” said Marie casually. “But the splash won’t be on the break-up between Joy Gooding and Henry Morton. It’ll be about a much, much bigger couple.”

“You got something else on Lloyd and Williams?” Damian asked, eyes bulging.

“Joy’s offered me the inside track on the rows leading to their separation.”

“How did you swing that one?”

“We just had a conversation, that’s all,” Marie raised her eyebrows teasingly. “I’ll send you the copy by the end of tomorrow.”

With that she breezed back out of his office, privately celebrating the fact that, for once, she’d been handed an easy exclusive without having to spend another week harassing people in the name of the
Sunday Echo
.

Libby smiled as she heard the front door open and Dan bellow “hello” through the hallway as he did every night. He dropped his bag and started to make his way towards the kitchen, while Libby imagined what would be running through his mind as, for the first time in years, he had arrived home to a house empty of kids. Usually, by this time in the evening they’d be climbing the walls – literally in Ollie’s case – while they waited for Libby to serve them tea. Tonight there was only absolute silence. Dan pushed open the kitchen door and looked around suspiciously.

“Where’s the kids?” Dan asked.

“At your mother’s,” Libby smiled, glancing up only momentarily before she resumed typing.

“My mother’s?”

“Yes,” Libby fixed him with a challenging glare. “At your mother’s while I finish my work. She’s going to take them three afternoons a week.”