Polls Apart (14 page)

“Come in and sit down, Henry. Just relax and treat the place as your own. Would you like a glass of wine?”

Henry’s eyes lit up. “I’d kill for one, thanks Anna. It’s been a bloody long day.”

“How did Portsmouth go?” Anna said, throwing the question to either man.

“Not bad,” Richard replied while he scoured the kitchen drawers for a bottle opener. Once retrieved, he was able to give a fuller account. “Obviously, we were there to push our benefit reforms, but as soon as we opened the floor to journalists’ questions, the only thing tabled for discussion was our marriage.” Richard shook his head in dismay as he began to fill three wine glasses.

“Just a spot for me,” Anna reminded him.

“We just need to use your presence tomorrow Anna, to really knock this one on the head,” Henry chipped in. “Richard said you’d be willing to say a few words to reporters and I think that would really help – as long as you’re comfortable with that?”

“Of course,” Anna smiled and couldn’t help but note the difference in Henry’s approach. Just a few weeks ago he would have been much more aggressive when asking her to help out and there would always be more than just a slight hint of emotional blackmail involved along the lines of “Richard is under a lot of pressure right now, Anna, and it is your role as leader’s wife to…”

She also noticed the change in her own attitude as to how she would have taken Henry’s input a few weeks ago, and how she was taking it now. She wondered if it was him or her that had changed more. Or had Joy’s absence somehow altered the dynamic between them? As she began to get to know Henry better, she was beginning to understand his frustration over her past behaviour. And the more she thought about it, the more she realised that Joy had done nothing to broker a truce between them, instead she had added fuel to Anna’s fire by encouraging her to rebel against Richard and Henry’s requests. Anna guessed that in some way this little game had given Joy a sense of power among a group of people by whom she felt dominated. After all, Henry had been very much a star appointment within the Social Democrats and attracted many column inches in his own right.

Anna listened as the two men chatted through the plan for Edinburgh the following day. She marvelled at their raw determination. They really wanted to win this election – and not just for themselves.

“I want to try and squeeze that visit in if we possibly can,” Richard told Henry. “I’ve read a lot about this specialist learning unit and I’d like to see for myself what they’re doing so right. It could be very important for our support in education plan.”

“It’ll push the rally back then which will mean we’re very late home,” Henry looked in Anna’s direction.

“That’s fine. I can sleep on the plane.” She nodded at Richard to reassure him, before settling back in the sofa to watch the two men at work again.

She could see why Richard had forgiven Henry now. The two of them had become inseparable in the last year as the momentum behind their cause intensified. At times in their conversation they were almost seamless in picking up on each other’s thoughts, which she found spellbinding to watch.

Seeing their commitment first hand, she couldn’t help but feel ashamed of the controversy she had stirred for them along the way. She wished she could take her selfish actions back. Instead, she would focus on what she could offer now. Whatever they asked of her, she would do. All her life she had craved fame and attention and, when it came, it did nothing to ease the pain of her past. That was a void that could never be filled. It was time to focus on others now. And she knew she would never have to completely leave her acting skills behind. After all, the performances she gave over the coming weeks would have to be the best of her career. There would be no dress rehearsal.

W
ednesday, 22
nd April,
2009
, UK Newswire – The actress Anna Lloyd yesterday launched a staunch defence of her marriage to Social Democrats leader Richard Williams as she campaigned with her husband in Edinburgh.

She told reporters that she and Williams were now “an unbreakable force” following their recent marital turmoil in the wake of claims Lloyd had once worked as a professional escort.

Speaking as she and her husband greeted crowds of well-wishers along the Scottish capital’s Princes Street, she said: “Our recent separation only proved to us how much our marriage means. Our reconciliation is no publicity stunt, as the
Sunday Echo
’s cowardly, anonymous source will be well aware.

“Richard and I are firmly committed to each other and to winning the general election for the long-suffering people of this country. We are totally united in our marriage and our desire for change.”

The couple’s walk-about followed a speech by Williams outside the Scottish Parliament in which he pledged to strengthen devolution and “work with Holyrood for the benefit of the people of Scotland”.

The pair were well received by the Scottish public and politicians alike with many people presenting flowers and gifts to Mrs Lloyd.

Meanwhile, the Alliance
MP
, Lizzie Ancroft, poured cold water on the opposition leader’s reunion with his wife, calling it a “cynical ploy”.

Speaking to AllNews
24
, Ancroft said: “Richard Williams and Anna Lloyd take the British public for complete fools if they think they can convince us all that they have genuinely put their differences behind them and are now a happy and committed couple.

“Anna Lloyd continues to act out her little soap opera – and though her acting may at times seem convincing – no one is fooled by the plot.”

Anna smiled as she watched herself – for what seemed like the one hundredth time – making her statement in Edinburgh. In Henry’s debriefing he had told her she “convincingly engaged with voters, showing both loyalty and love in her defence of Richard”. In other words, it went well. The clip had topped every
TV
news bulletin and the presenters on AllNews
24
were now about to lead a discussion on “RiAnnagate” as the press had dubbed the ongoing saga. Anna couldn’t help but laugh as they rolled out the same old “relationship expert” who had been making a small fortune in the last few weeks pontificating on a marriage she knew absolutely nothing about. She had to hand it to this woman though, she could keep the material coming. She never ran out of hand signals, gestures, looks and expressions to flag up as “significant”. Picking over yesterday’s outing she noted how Anna had leant in towards Richard as he spoke; “even stopping to touch his hand gently at one point and whisper a few words of encouragement”. In fact, what Anna had actually whispered was that she needed the toilet again and was going to have to make a run for it into Jenners department store. However, the upshot from this relationship expert was that she did believe Richard and Anna were still in love. So that was all right then. Anna switched off the television and made her way slowly towards the bathroom. She had another long and busy day ahead so Richard had allowed her to lie in until eight. She was due to meet Don Monteith for a late breakfast at ten, before meeting Richard on the campaign trail again at a car plant in Essex. She had been very excited when Don called on Monday evening to suggest they meet. He had even hinted that he might have a project in mind for her. But Anna also knew that now was not the time to be focusing on her career – both because of the election and the baby. Richard had encouraged her to go ahead and meet with Don anyway as he was a good contact – and they needed to keep him on side for the duration of the campaign. Henry had looked a little concerned at the mention of a possible film role – clearly imagining Anna about to embark on something akin to an
Eyes Wide Shut
sequel – but had managed to stay quiet which was the greatest sign to her yet that he was making a serious effort to maintain the now-easy truce between them.

Libby’s fingers trembled as they hovered over the telephone keypad. She knew all she had to do was dial Franchesca Carruthers’ number and ask her a straightforward question, but the thought was still terrifying. Would she take it the wrong way and just think Libby was using her connections for political gain? Or would she be able to see the bigger picture? As she began to punch the number into the pad, she hoped with all her heart that Franchesca was now a Social Democrat supporter.

It took a few long rings before she answered: “Franchesca Carruthers, hello.”

“Oh, hi Franchesca, this is Libby,” she began shakily. “I hope I haven’t disturbed you. I was looking for you at drop-off this morning but you’re too punctual for me…” Libby laughed awkwardly and, realising she was starting to stray off course, decided just to cut to the point. “Look, I hope you don’t mind me asking you this, but… you may have noticed that the Alliance Party are running a bit of a smear campaign against Anna and Richard.”

“That had come to my attention, yes,” Franchesca scoffed.

“Well, I remember you told me you had a friend that had been treated very badly by Kelvin Davis and…” Libby took an involuntary breath, which turned into an audible gulp. “I wondered if you would mind asking her if she’d be willing to go public with it.”

“What do you mean ‘public’?” Franchesa asked.

“I mean, whether she would be willing to talk to the press.” Libby tensed again, shutting her eyes as she waited for the answer.

“Well…” Franchesca’s voice sounded unusually slight. “It’s not as easy as just calling my friend, I’m afraid.”

“Why not?”

“Because it was me who had an affair with Kelvin. I guess you could say it was a counter attack for the many times Will had cheated on me.”

“Oh,” was all Libby could muster.

“Look, Libby,” Franchesca continued. “I’ve been following everything that’s been said about your sister, and I think it’s completely disgraceful. Kelvin Davis is a conman and a liar who should be exposed, but I can’t put my children through a public scandal like that. It just wouldn’t be fair to them.”

Libby could tell the window of opportunity she had with Franchesca was closing fast, so she tried the only shot she had.

“How about if we didn’t reveal details of the affair, but simply said you went on a couple of dates together? It would still allow us to make the point that he tends to treat women badly. I think that would still be enough to weaken his stance and bring him down from the moral high ground he’s been trying to stand on.”

The phone line went quiet for a few agonizing moments as Franchesca thought the suggestion through.

“I’m going to need time to think about this,” she said finally. “I don’t care about what people think of me, but I don’t want my children to feel ashamed of me.”

“You wouldn’t need to give much detail, Franchesca. I think simply talking about the way he spoke to you would be enough, because there’s been rumours of his womanizing circulating for years, but this will be the first time someone actually talks about his attitude to women publicly. We are concerned that Kelvin is willing to stop at nothing to win this election, so we have to try and arm ourselves in any way we can. By doing this, you will genuinely be helping the Social Democrats to try and oust that man from power and undo the damage he’s been inflicting on us all for so long.”

“I hear what you’re saying, Libby. And I would love to help, I really would, but this is a very big ask.”

“I know, Franchesca. It’s not something I’m enjoying doing, but I’ve watched my sister and brother-in-law get dragged through the mud these last few weeks and I can’t just sit around and do nothing. I hope you understand that I just had to make this call.”

“I do understand, but I need time to think it over. I will call you this afternoon, either way.”

Libby thanked Franchesca before ending the call. This would go one of two ways, she thought. Either Franchesca would accept that Libby had good reason to ask her and, hopefully, agree to help, or she would put the phone down, call some other mothers at the school and, between them, turn her into a complete social pariah. Libby was just beginning to realise that, in politics, the stakes were always high.

From the moment Anna stepped out of the car, she realised the Soho café had been a very poor choice of venue for meeting Don Monteith. Although her driver had managed to shake off two photographers on the way over, reinforcements surrounded her as soon as her feet hit the pavement. Where they had come from, she didn’t know, but already Anna had a creeping suspicion that Don might have tipped them off in an effort to promote himself and his new film. She walked briskly inside the café and found him already waiting at a corner table. He waved breezily and Anna, not wishing to cause a scene, decided not to mention the photographers and instead behave as though nothing was wrong.

“How are you my darling?” he said, kissing her on both cheeks before flagging down a passing waiter to take her coat. “Sit down, please,” he gestured towards the seat across from him.

“Thanks,” she placed her handbag at her feet and loosened her silk neck-scarf before turning her attention back to the director. “So, Don, I must congratulate you. I see you’re number one at the box office this week. You must be thrilled.”

“Yeah, it’s going really well, thanks. We open in the US next week so that’s gonna be a big one. We’ve got premieres in New York and LA.”

“You’re a busy man then,” Anna smiled. “I’m very fortunate to steal some of your time.”

“Well,” he nodded, “this is a rare day off for me so I thought I’d make the most of it by meeting a very beautiful actress for brunch.”

Anna felt herself wince at Don’s crude attempt at charm, and instead of responding to him she browsed the breakfast menu until she’d made her choice. When the waiter came to take their order, Anna asked for eggs benedict while Don just ordered another coffee.

“Are you not having anything to eat?” Anna asked.

“No, I’m not a big eater in the mornings.”

“You should have said,” Anna replied, confused at his suggestion of brunch when he wasn’t going to eat anything himself.

“Well, coffee seems so meagre compared to brunch, doesn’t it,” he smiled. “Anyway, you need to relax and eat properly when you’re not on the road, cos there was nothing worth eating on that battle bus.”

“That’s true,” Anna laughed. “Sadly, it’s like a second home right now as well.”

“But just you wait until you land the big prize,” Don winked. “You’ll never have to face a soggy ploughman’s sandwich again.”

“Even if we do make it, we’ll still have to get out on that road in another few years’ time. There’s no escaping that battle bus.”

“You’ll be too busy with your film career by then, Anna.” Don winked again, causing Anna to wonder if it had become something of an involuntary movement around women.

She smiled, a little embarrassed. “We’ll see. Right now I feel very committed to supporting Richard and getting involved more in social campaigning.”

“Very good for you. Now…” he announced dramatically. “I wanna talk to you about a little project I’ve got coming up on the horizon. Stay right there and I’ll be back in a minute.” Don suddenly rose to his feet and headed off to the toilets. Fortunately for Anna, her eggs and coffee arrived just at that point so she was saved from having to sit alone with only a glass of water to occupy her time. Watching Don swagger off in the direction of the men’s toilets, she couldn’t help but think how agitated he had seemed recently compared to the day they had first met on the bus. Today his eyes darted around the room as he spoke, his smile a little forced. Perhaps he’d been celebrating his latest film’s success a little too hard? Whatever the reason, she had begun to feel tired at the thought of trying to sustain a long conversation with Don so she texted John and asked him to park nearby so she could keep their meeting brief. She could tell Don there’d been a change of campaigning schedule and she now had to meet Richard a little earlier.

She heard Don’s footsteps behind her again and looked up to see him passing her chair. He turned his head to smile at her and she noticed a cluster of white powder tucked under his right nostril. Anna immediately knew what it was – in her early twenties she’d dated a guy who told her he was an investment broker but who actually turned out to be dealing cocaine. And although he had been a good deal more discreet than Don, Anna had on more than one occasion spotted that same white powder up his nose. It turned her stomach to think she was spending time alone with a man who publicly professed to care about society and the welfare of others, but who was quite happy to perpetuate the misery of thousands of innocent people caught in the middle of drug wars. Not to mention the fact that if it got out she’d been spending time with a cocaine user it could derail the campaign all over again. She looked at him in his designer T-shirt and jacket, the smell of his expensive aftershave invading her breakfast, and she saw in an instant what this man really was – a shallow, insecure product of an even shallower and more insecure industry. It was an industry in which she’d been fretting in recent years whether she was thin or young enough to continue, wondering whether she’d require cosmetic surgery to keep winning even semi-decent roles. And sitting across from Don Monteith in the restaurant that day, she made a decision that it was an industry she no longer wanted anything to do with. She had been handed an opportunity to do some good in the world, and she was going to make the most of it.

Don was smiling across at her as he chattered on about the “amazing” project he had in mind for her.

“It’s a sort of British
Sex in the City
meets
Beaches
,” he continued in a loud, over-animated voice. “Your character would be very similar to Samantha, but you would encounter real struggles that allow the audience to totally relate.”