Polls Apart (3 page)

Clutching the rather startled fifteen-year-old close to her chest – in what Richard noticed was quite a proprietary way – he overheard the actress telling a
TV
reporter: “I’m just so thrilled to be presenting an award to Jamie. He’s such an inspiration to us all in the way he fearlessly fought for a pensioner’s wallet.”

One of the organisers stepped in to whisper something to the actress, which Richard assumed must have been a correction by the way her face further contorted with every word uttered. He slowed to a snail’s pace as he made his way past the scene so he could watch the full spectacle unfold.

The actress was waving her hands in front of her now.

“Can we start again?” she asked in her thick Yorkshire accent. “I didn’t get that right.” She tossed her long hair to the other side and cleared her throat. “I’m just so thrilled to be presenting an award to Jamie. He’s such an inspiration to us all in the way he bravely fought off thugs who were trying to steal a pensioner’s wallet.”

Richard couldn’t help but laugh out loud which earned him a very dirty look from the now-mortified actress. He turned to Anna behind him who was so busy scouring the room she had missed the entertainment right in front of their noses.

“Mr Williams.” A very smiley young lady was standing in front of him and, judging from her headset and clipboard, he guessed she was from the production crew.

“I’m Mary Waterman, the assistant producer. Pleased to meet you – and you Ms Lloyd.”

Anna returned her smile but, Richard noticed, she still hadn’t lost that distracted look as she half-heartedly tried to listen to Mary’s instructions whilst star-spotting.

“If you follow me to your table, I can introduce you to Ruth,” Mary continued. “I’ll then call you fifteen minutes before you’re due to present the award and take you backstage where there will be make-up artists on hand should you need freshening up.”

“Lovely, thank you,” Richard said as he dutifully followed the assistant producer to his chair.

“This is Ruth,” Mary said, pointing to a young woman who was the total opposite of what Richard had been expecting.

“My goodness,” he blurted as he shook the girl’s hand. “How did such a petite young lady like you chase two armed robbers from a bank?”

“I used shock tactics,” Ruth giggled. “I’d read an article in a magazine a few weeks earlier saying if you were ever assaulted then the best thing to do was to act all weird and make a lot of noise as it would throw your attackers off course.”

“So what did you do?” Richard asked.

“I just shouted ‘
raaaarrrrrr
’ and then ran at them. And before I knew it they started running in the opposite direction.”

“Weren’t you afraid it wouldn’t work?” Anna chipped in from behind Richard. “Some robbers would have shot you for less.”

“Oh, hello,” Ruth said shyly as she realised who Anna was. “I didn’t really think about it, I just went on automatic. Looking back on it, I was very lucky that it worked and everyone escaped unhurt.”

“I’d say,” Richard laughed. “What a wonderful story though. We need more people like you who are willing to stand up to the bad guys.”

Suddenly an announcement cut across their conversation: “Ladies and Gentlemen. Will you please take your seats as the Great Britons Awards Ceremony is about to begin.”

Richard spotted his place card beside Ruth’s while Anna was seated between her husband and the sponsor’s very straight-looking chairman whom she realised she would be stuck talking to for the next couple of hours. She sighed quietly to herself and glanced at who was placed on the nearby tables. She was quickly cheered to see she had been seated at a better table than several so-called A-list singers and actresses who were positioned behind them.

Once she had taken her seat, Anna leant close and whispered in Richard’s ear: “I didn’t realise there were going to be so many major celebrities here.”

“Yes. It’s become quite a high-profile event. That’s why Henry insisted we present the award.”

“He’s much more in touch than I thought,” Anna laughed. “In fact, I’m quite looking forward to this campaign now. I think we’ll make a dynamic team.” She winked at Richard and gave him a teasing nudge.

Anna woke early the following morning to the sound of their radio alarm and immediately regretted the fifth glass of champagne she had carelessly swigged shortly before they left the awards ceremony. Richard – ever sensible – had advised her against drinking it, but she’d got carried away as she enjoyed all the attention that accompanied her increasing celebrity. Finally, she was starting to get the kind of admiration she had always craved. Even directors who had once looked down on her as a two-bit soap actress – as that’s how she’d started out – were now actively courting her because of the kind of publicity she could generate. All this meant Anna was no longer nervous about her nine-thirty meeting that morning with a production company in Soho. They were interested in casting her as a single mother who turns to armed robbery to support her family. Her agent had told her it was a six-part drama that they were to begin filming in June but, while only last week she’d been desperate to get the part, last night had made her realise she could now pretty much choose whatever role she wanted. In fact, she’d decided she was going to invest her all in helping Richard on the election campaign and – once happily ensconced at Number
10
– she’d start knocking on Hollywood’s door; if the directors of Tinseltown weren’t already lining up to talk to her by then.

Richard was stirring in the bed next to her and, feeling the warmth of abounding opportunity, Anna cuddled up behind him, her hands linking across his chest. She kissed him softly between his shoulder blades. “Morning darling,” she whispered in his ear.

Richard turned towards her, staying in his wife’s embrace. “Good morning, my love,” he said wearily. “You seem very happy for six-thirty in the morning.”

“That’s because I’m very proud to be your wife,” she kissed him firmly, folding herself even closer into him.

“You’re not rushing are you?” he asked with a devilish smile whilst manoeuvring himself to lie over her.

“Not any more,” she giggled, drawing his face towards hers until their lips met.

“Richard,” she whispered. “How about we try again for a Downing Street baby?” The brief silence that followed almost deafened Anna, who held her breath as she waited for an answer. For the last couple of months she had been pleading with Richard to try and start a family, fearing the ticking clock, but he had wanted to wait until after the election.

“I thought you were getting all excited about your career again?” Richard asked, then immediately realised he was shooting himself in the foot by discouraging her from seeking a family life when that is exactly what Henry and all his closest colleagues were encouraging him to go for.

“I can combine the two,” she said in a quiet voice that spoke loudly of her true desire. “I just want us to be a family, Richard. I want to give what I never had.”

He studied her for a moment, her eyes imploring him to understand, to commit. “We can try, darling,” he smiled, kissing her gently on the forehead. “I mean, I’ve always said we could do with encouraging more young people into the party.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, still wrapped in his embrace. As Richard leant in to kiss his wife again he thought he could see a single tear run down the side of her cheek and disappear into the pillow.

Two hours later Anna bounced into the back seat of the Mercedes and bid a cheerful good morning to John, her regular driver with the chauffeur firm she’d been using for the last five years.

“How’s life treating you today, John?” she asked as she rifled through her TARDIS of a handbag to try and find her mobile. It was only eight forty-five but already she noticed she had two missed calls from a number she didn’t recognise. With a little buzz of excitement at the thought it might be one of the directors she met last night trying to reach her, she hastily hit the redial button.

A woman answered after a couple of rings but spoke hesitantly.

“Hello.”

“Hi. It’s Anna Lloyd. You dialled my mobile a couple of times this morning?”

“Yes… Anna, it’s Sylvia Levine here. I hope you don’t mind me calling.”

Anna’s heart plunged as she realised who she was talking to.

“What do you want Sylvia?” she demanded coldly.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Sylvia’s aged voice sounded shaky and panicked as she got to the point of her call. “A newspaper reporter’s been calling me these last few days telling me she knows all about your work for the agency and asking me all these questions. I didn’t know what to say to her, Anna. I thought I should tell you.”

Anna clutched the edge of the car seat in a futile attempt to stop the world from spinning around her. Her breathing sped up to a pant as the implications of what Sylvia was telling her played through her mind.

“What paper is she from?” Anna asked icily.

“The
Sunday Echo
.”

“Shit. Have you told them anything?”

“No, nothing Anna. But they know you worked for me for six months and they know what kind of work you did.”

“This… is a
bloody nightmare
,” Anna shrieked. “We’re just about to go into a general election campaign and this blows up in my face. I knew the past would come back to haunt me, I knew it.” Anna’s voice sounded strangled now and she fought hard to regain some kind of composure. She could see John giving her alarmed glances in his mirror and she realised quickly that she would have to try and avoid more people finding out or the evidence against her would start piling up.

“I’m so sorry, Anna. They already know the names of some of your regulars.”

“Don’t say it like that, Sylvia. You make me sound like a hooker.” Anna could feel the cold sweat breaking out across her brow. “Look. I need you to just stay quiet and never call me again, do you understand?”

“Perfectly,” Sylvia replied calmly, and Anna instantly detected the shift in her voice. Her stomach lurched when she realised what had just happened. Sylvia had set her up – and she had no doubt that she was well and truly stuffed.

“Well, Dicky, this is really it. The moment we’ve been waiting for.” But Henry quickly realised he was talking to himself. Richard’s attention was firmly locked on the
TV
balanced precariously on a pile of folders above the filing cabinet in his office. A blonde newsreader with a perfect bob spoke earnestly into the camera as a ticker running beneath her proclaimed:
PM
set to announce general election date.

Henry moved silently to sit next to Richard as they watched Kelvin Davis emerge through the front doors of a primary school and make his way towards the crowd of waiting photographers and reporters.

“Look at him,” scoffed Richard, shuffling uncomfortably on the edge of the meeting table where they were both now perched. “Not a hair out of place while there’s a bloody gale raging around him. How does he manage it?”

“Hairspray I expect,” said Henry.

Richard glanced at his head of communications, but decided there was no time to analyse whether his comment had been genuine or in jest. Henry’s dry wit and deadpan delivery often left Richard a little bewildered as to how he was supposed to respond.

Kelvin smiled like a well-practised Hollywood star as he approached the cameras, the teeth-whitening for which he’d recently been ridiculed by the press now in full view.

He took a moment to nod in acknowledgment to the hundreds of school children who were gathered all around him.

“Trust him to surround himself with kids, as well,” said Richard. “Is there any stunt too low for him to pull?”

“Doubt it,” replied Henry.

Kelvin fixed the cameras with a look that said “I’m about to say something really important” before he began his prepared speech. “Earlier today, I saw the Queen at Buckingham Palace to ask for a dissolution of Parliament so there could be a general election on Wednesday the
6
th of May.”

“What?” Henry shouted at the screen. “Why’s he holding it on a Wednesday? I thought it had to be a Thursday.”

“It’s convention for the election to be held on a Thursday, but this is Kelvin’s little power game – ‘I can change it so I will change it,
’”
Richard scoffed. “It’s pathetic really.”

Henry shook his head in dismay before turning his focus back to the television where Kelvin had paused for a moment to enjoy the excited little ripple amongst the assembled press, caused by his convention-breaking.

“My goal is to continue to secure a better future for all, but most especially the children and young people of this country who deserve the best start a nation can offer.”

Kelvin paused again to smile affectionately at the children gathered directly to his side, but was forced to cut what was meant to be a poignant moment short when one of them embarked on a rigorous effort to release a bogey from his right nostril.

“Ha! Make that child an honorary member of the Social Democratic Party. He’s created one of the most well-executed diversions ever to be seen in British politics,” Henry roared.

“Beautiful,” Richard beamed, smacking Henry triumphantly between the shoulder blades.

M
onday, 30
th March,
2009
, UK Newswire – Opposition leader Richard Williams’ hopes of leading the
SDP
to an election victory in May suffered a severe blow after a Sunday newspaper printed claims his wife previously worked as a professional escort.

The allegations, published in yesterday’s
Sunday Echo
newspaper, came just three days after Kelvin Davis announced that a general election would be held on Wednesday,
6
th May. The newspaper claimed that Lloyd worked for the Mademoiselles escort agency in
1994
for a period of six months.

The timing of the claims about the actress Anna Lloyd, who has been married to Williams for six years, could not have been worse for the Opposition leader or his party who have, to this point, been riding high in the opinion polls.

The allegations were firmly denied by Lloyd and an
SDP
spokesman who dismissed the article as “ludicrous”, but the
Sunday Echo
last night released a statement saying it stood by its story, which, it maintains, is supported by several sources.

The
Sunday Echo
editor, Damian Blunt, added there were “more revelations to come” on Lloyd’s past, which, he says, will run in the newspaper this Sunday.

Williams is expected to make a personal statement about the claims following a visit to City of Bristol College later today where he was due to talk about the Democrats’ planned further education policies.

While I was shocked to hear the claims made against my wife, Anna, in a Sunday newspaper, I was even more concerned that – at such an important point in this country’s political evolution – so much time and interest should be paid to what is effectively gossip, rather than the real and very serious issues facing this nation.

I want to assure all those people who long to see Britain stand on its economic feet again and to see the focus shift to some of the most pressing issues in our society – rebuilding the
NHS
, tackling crime and supporting families – that I will be undaunted in my determination to win the next general election and to make this nation proud again.

Richard stared mournfully at the newspaper pages in front of him, still trying to absorb the magnitude of his problem. He was sitting in his party
HQ
office, flanked by Henry on one side and Ray on the other. Sandra was making her way through the Monday morning rush-hour traffic, but they had decided to start without her as Henry was determined to prepare a “statement of intent” before they left – in little over an hour – to catch a train to Bristol where Richard was due to make a speech to college students and staff later that morning.

Richard had been informed in a phone call by Henry on Saturday afternoon that the
Sunday Echo
would be running the story the following day. Henry had picked up an early edition and read it word-for-word to Richard late on Saturday night as Anna lay on the sofa across from him, sobbing into a cushion. Richard had sat in complete silence as he heard how Sylvia Levine had damned his wife with praise as she described the time Anna had spent working for her. “She was a very beautiful young lady and the punters absolutely loved her,” she’d been quoted as saying. “I could have booked her every night of the week if she’d been available.” And while the paper hadn’t actually stated whether any of Anna’s encounters had been sexual, it had strongly hinted that way.

“Anna was a very obliging employee,” Sylvia had cryptically added. “She had no problem with the work and was good at keeping the customers happy.”

Once Henry had finished reading the article – which had been spread over three pages – the two men had hastily prepared a statement in Richard’s name, designed to distance the Opposition leader from the allegations whilst simultaneously down-playing them.

Richard and Henry had been satisfied that that statement would achieve its purpose, but the UK media had other ideas. The newspaper headlines spread over the meeting table that Monday morning screamed trouble at the three men gazing forlornly down at them:
Democrats’ Whitewash on Lloyd Escort Girl Claims
, one tabloid shouted, while another’s front page featured a large picture of Richard scowling (snapped over a year ago when he was papped leaving a restaurant) and reading
: This Looks Tricky Dicky –
SDP
leader in a spin over wife’s escort past
.

Henry smiled unconvincingly at Richard and Ray: “Looks like our attempts to move the news agenda on haven’t quite taken hold yet.”

“You’re a master of stating the bloody obvious,” sniped Ray. “Don’t you think you’d better tell us what you’re going to do to make up for the even deeper shit you’ve put Richard in?”

“I’ve not put anyone in shit, Ray,” Henry hit back. “It would appear that it’s Anna who’s got us here.” Henry then turned on Richard: “Has she told you whether it’s true or not yet?”

Richard continued to stare blankly at the newspapers in front of him: “She said parts of it are true.”

“Parts? Which parts?” yelled Henry.

“She worked for the escort agency but she didn’t shag anyone, all right.” Richard’s cheeks flushed with stress and embarrassment as he forced himself to look Henry in the eye.

“Do us a favour, Henry,” Ray chipped in again, “and save us the self-righteous act. We’re supposed to be here as a team.”

“Well, that’s a nice sentiment, Ray. But we need to establish all the facts and we need to think quickly. The truth is this isn’t going away, Richard. The way I see it you have two choices…”

Richard continued to look at Henry although he was unsure whether he wanted to hear the options he was about to set out.

“You can either stand by Anna and we tough this out, but risk it throwing the election campaign,
or
we ask her to step aside until the election’s over.”

“What do you mean step aside?” asked Richard.

“I mean you announce a separation which we’ll say is giving you some space to reflect on what’s happened and to focus on the campaign. The message will be loud and clear: No distractions.”

“You’re asking Richard to chuck his wife out until we win in other words,” said Ray, before adding: “Do he and Anna get a say in this at all?”

“Anna doesn’t, no,” smirked Henry. “But she’s in no position to argue right now. The best thing for everyone is if she takes a nice little holiday abroad until this blows over and lets us get on with the job in hand.”

Ray turned to Richard, searching his face for clues as to what he could be thinking, but the opposition leader’s face remained blank. “I’ll back you whatever you decide to do, Richard,” he said.

Then, just as Henry was about to try and force Richard’s hand, the door opened and Sandra bustled into the room, laden as usual with the stack of files she carried everywhere with her.

“Sorry I’m late guys,” she said breezily, before slapping the files onto the table and taking a seat next to Henry. “What have I missed?”

“You’ve just missed Henry suggesting I publicly dump Anna until the election’s over.” Richard said starkly.

“And you don’t think that’s a good idea?” she asked, as though they were discussing a simple policy decision.

“Well, do you?” Richard replied, surprised one of his closest confidantes had so readily sided with Henry whom she would usually go to the ends of the earth to avoid agreeing with.

“I just don’t think we can carry her through this, Richard,” Sandra said. “Being totally blunt, Anna is a bit of a dead weight in our campaign. If she stays around, she’ll drag us down.”

Richard ran his hands through his hair, which he thought must be thinning by the minute, as he fought for time. He felt like an animal trapped by a pack of hyenas. And he knew there was no escape. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell Anna,” he said mournfully, head bowed.

“Look, you’ve got a very busy and important day ahead of you,” said Henry. “Why don’t you let me brief Anna on where we’re up to, and you can talk to her properly later.”

“Brief Anna on where we’re up to?” Ray raised his eyes to the ceiling, despairing at the lack of feeling Henry was displaying for Richard’s wife.

“He’s right Ray,” said Sandra. “Now is not the time for Richard to be having a marital heart-to-heart when he’s got a major campaign speech in a few hours. Henry can talk Anna through what’s been discussed and we can get back to focusing on the job in hand.”

Richard pushed out a quick, hard breath, before looking round his team. “Okay. That’s that decided. Let’s move on to what I’m saying this afternoon, can we? Every word counts so we need to get this absolutely right.”

Anna curled up in her favourite armchair and selected the AllNews channel on the enormous flatscreen
TV
Richard had bought for himself as a Christmas present. Anna had thought it was the greatest monstrosity she’d ever seen when Richard had first lumbered through the front door carrying it – or attempting to – but as the months had passed she had stopped noticing its size to the point where it now looked quite neat to her in the corner of their living room. She turned the volume up as soon as she saw the words “Escort Claims Crisis” appear behind the presenter, Esther Yarleth. Anna bristled as she listened to Esther – a raven-haired, fiercely ambitious media darling who never missed an opportunity to flirt with Richard – clearly enjoying announcing their troubles to the world. “Social Democrat leader Richard Williams is due to make a speech during a visit to Bristol College this morning where he is expected to discuss embarrassing claims made in a Sunday newspaper about his wife’s past. The newspaper alleged that actress Anna Lloyd…”

Anna turned the volume down again and peered through the cracks in the shutters onto the street outside where she could still make out the cluster of reporters and photographers camped out at the bottom of their driveway. They had been there since Sunday morning, seemingly only taking a few hours off to sleep, although even then there were usually a couple who lurked around overnight, just in case they missed Richard throwing Anna out the front door, followed by a sack of her belongings. So they hadn’t got that shot yet, Anna mused, but she knew Richard would be under pressure to do something to distance himself from the claims. The past forty-eight hours had marked the lowest point in their marriage by far – and there had been some real lows before that as he had been forced to get to grips with the enormity of her past.

They had been getting ready for a charity dinner when Henry had called Richard on his mobile to deliver the news about the story that would shortly hit the streets. Anna had watched her husband’s face turn ashen white with a mixture of panic and anger as he absorbed the full implications of what he was being told. Henry had advised them to stay in the house and not answer the door or telephone until he got there. With those words he effectively sentenced the two of them to spend the next hour caged with each other while the British press set up stall outside. Richard had been too afraid to shout in case they heard him so instead he paced the floor, ranting quietly to himself over and over. “That’s it,” he kept saying. “Everything I’ve worked for – my and my family’s lifelong dream – gone. Just gone and there’s not a thing I can do about it.”

Anna’s feelings lurched from overwhelming guilt about her past to uncontrollable anger at the fact Richard was being so insensitive to her. And as he paced in front of her for what must have been the hundredth time, she finally snapped.

“Some social conscience you’ve got, Richard. You preach about helping those in need, about us all being equal, but not in your own home. Poverty forced me to take that job, remember. We weren’t all born middle class, Richard. Some of us have had to sell ourselves just to get out of the shit into which we were landed.”

She had cried then, long and hard. She had been humiliated and degraded in front of her husband and the whole country. But worst of all, she had been reminded. Richard had looked on anxiously for a while, before eventually kneeling in front of her and taking her head into his hands. “It’s not your fault, Anna. And I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. I know your life was hell. I just wish we could make people understand.”

“Why can’t we?” Anna had asked. “Why don’t we just tell the truth about everything that happened? Then people would understand why I had to take a job like that.”

Richard’s face had taken a stony turn. “We can’t do that,” he’d replied, shaking his head. “That’s just way too risky.”

“So we just stay quiet and let the world think I’m a tart?” Her eyes explored his, urging him to see her position.

“Henry will think of something,” was all he could muster in response.

Sitting in her armchair staring at the rabble outside, Anna knew Richard had a choice. He could stand by her and use her plight to demonstrate just why the
SDP
had to win, or he could cut her off and put personal gain over just cause. She thought of the man she’d fallen for at the theatre awards ceremony seven years ago where Richard had presented Anna with her “Best Actress” trophy. It had not been the first time they’d met, but the difference that night was they were both single and looking for a new partner. She had been attracted by his sharp mind and sense of social justice, and he – so he had told her – had been instantly hooked on the sound of her laughter, her ease within her own skin, and the way she managed to turn the head of every other man in the room without seeming to notice. Anna had thought they made the perfect pair. They had talked of being an indestructible force in politics.

Sitting in her armchair, waiting for her husband to make his announcement on the steps of Bristol College, she felt sure he would remember all they’d set out to conquer together. They would get through this, she knew they would.

Henry glanced nervously at his watch as he waited for Richard to finish his meet and greet with the college staff and students. He needed to get clear of them within the next two minutes if they were to start the announcement by five-past one which would mean they’d get a live slot right at the top of the lunchtime news programmes. As Richard caught his eye, Henry nodded twice – their code for “time to get a move on” – and watched the opposition leader skilfully round up his brief chat with those assembled in the main lecture hall. But just as Henry started to relax into their plan, he was soon filled with horror as he realised he’d forgotten to call Anna to tell her what was happening. If he didn’t call her now, she’d have to find out from the
TV
news. He reached for his mobile and shook it in frustration when he realised there was no signal in the hall. He thought about quickly running out into the street, but he knew he would panic Richard if he did and cause them to miss their all-important time slot. It was a harsh decision, even by his own standards, but he’d just have to abandon the call to Anna. After all, he reasoned, she’d brought this situation on herself – and, worse, the party.