Polls Apart (18 page)

“Is something wrong?” Libby asked.

“I’m all over the place.” Anna’s voice quavered. “My hormones are raging anyway with the pregnancy and I’m just racked with anxiety. I hardly slept last night.”

“What are you worried about, Anna? You’re not taking that stupid
Sunday Echo
thing seriously are you? It was so obviously a complete crock of shit.”

Anna let out a long sigh. “No. I know nothing much went on between Richard and Lizzie Ancroft though I guess it has pissed me off. But it’s more than that. I had a horrible dream about Graham and it’s because I’m feeling vulnerable again. I feel so exposed at the moment and I’m just not sure I can trust Richard anymore. Who’s to say he isn’t just stringing me along until the election is over? He could just be using me to get to Number
10
.”

“He could, Anna,” said Libby cautiously, “but I don’t think he is. I know he made a big mistake leaving you before and it’s bound to make you feel anxious, but you’ve got to try and trust him again. The papers are going to be full of stories about your marriage for the foreseeable future so you’ve got to learn to draw a line between your public and private life and not let it get to you. You’ve got a baby to think about now too, Anna. These are exciting times so please put the past behind you. All of it.”

“You seem to find that so much easier than me.”

“Look… it still creeps in sometimes. I have my moments too. But we can’t let it defeat us. We didn’t do anything wrong. We were two terrified girls living a nightmare. But it’s over, Anna. Finished.”

Anna curled her knees into her chest and leant into the side of the sofa. Her head was still spinning with fear and paranoia, but Libby’s voice of reason was beginning to force its way through. She let the tears fall freely again as she realised that for the last twenty years she had been too afraid to accept happiness in her life. She had felt that if she’d dropped her guard and relaxed, then something bad was bound to happen so, instead, she clutched on to the fear that had become her security blanket. Now she had to try and let it go in order to cope with the new life that lay ahead for her and her family.

“You still there?” Libby asked.

“Yes,” Anna sniffled. “And I know what you’re saying is right. I’ve got to try and get back on my feet again and help Richard. I just feel so tired.”

“I know. That’s only natural, but you’ve only got a couple of days of campaigning left and then you can relax a little bit – well, as much as is possible when you’re a prime minister’s wife.”

“If, I’m a prime minister’s wife, Libby. The polls are looking shaky again after that whole Ancroft thing.”

“Well, it’s all the more important that you get back out there then. Where were you supposed to be today?”

“I should have been with him in Swindon this morning and then we were flying to Newcastle at two thirty.”

“Right, well you can still make it to Newcastle. I’ll tell John to come and get you in fifteen minutes, okay?”

“Okay,” Anna replied. She said goodbye to Libby then walked to the downstairs toilet to look in the mirror. Her face was heavily blotched and there were dark circles under her eyes. She would need a lot of make-up to disguise this, she thought. But then she was no stranger to disguise, it was reality she had to learn to face.

The air hostesses smiled broadly as Richard made his way into the cabin, closely followed by Henry, two Special Branch officers, Richard’s
PA
and a small assortment of aides who all formed part of what was now a familiar entourage. They had been running seriously late and Richard thanked the crew profusely for holding the aircraft for an extra few minutes.

“That’s all right,” one of the hostesses replied brightly. “Pleasure to have you on board, sir. Your wife is already seated.”

Richard smiled and tried to hide his surprise that Anna was on the flight. He rounded the corner into the cabin and spotted her sitting in the second row. He wanted to rush straight over and give her a hug, but already a couple of passengers in the rows behind had stood up to greet him.

“Good luck,” a very rotund and red-faced business man said, whilst firmly shaking his hand. Behind him, a ten-year-old boy was being pushed forwards by his mother. He shook the boy’s hand and asked him his name. “Jamie,” he replied, smiling shyly, adding. “I hope you win.” Richard thanked him then smiled and waved at the other passengers, many of whom, he noticed, were smiling back at him. He could sense their hopes and expectations – and he didn’t want to let them down.

He turned back to find Henry chatting animatedly with Anna, obviously briefing her on the hell that had been that morning. The press had been all over them while they were out canvassing in Swindon, all desperate to know why Anna hadn’t joined them on the trip. “It was never intended that she would be here,” Henry had barked back. “So, when will we see her then?” A persistent reporter had kept asking. But they couldn’t answer that one.

Richard moved into the row to sit between them.

“Glad you came,” was all he said. He noticed Anna looked tired and drawn and his heart felt heavy with the guilt of all the pressure she was under when she should be sitting at home with her feet up. He had confided to Henry about Anna’s pregnancy earlier that morning as it was the only explanation he could give as to why he couldn’t force his wife to be permanently on the trail now.

“I spoke to Libby,” Anna said. “She made me realise I can’t keep getting upset over every story because there are going to be many more out there before our days at Number
10
are through. The important thing right now is to make sure you win; then we’ll maybe get some time to work through the craziness of these last few weeks.”

“You’re a trouper,” Richard said, touching her arm.

The safety announcement came on over the tannoy, and Richard, Anna and Henry dutifully paid attention while the flight crew gave their demonstration. Anna was an uncomfortable flyer – particularly during take-off – so she distracted herself by listening to Henry’s anecdotes about how the local Alliance candidate in Swindon had been forced to cancel a planned speech he was going to make in contest to Richard’s, because only a small handful of supporters had turned out for him.

Once in the air, the
TV
screens in front of them flashed into life to show a brief five-minute AllNews
24
bulletin. Both Henry and Richard reached for their headphones, but Anna preferred the silence. She glanced at the screen to catch Don Monteith’s face appear above the headline “Director’s attack on Anna Lloyd.” Anna felt her stomach disappear through the clouds below. She studied Richard’s frowning face as he listened to the bulletin, knowing she would have to wait patiently until it was over before she could ask what had been said. The cabin had fallen almost completely silent and all eyes seemed to be on them.

Finally, Richard removed his headphones and turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What was he saying about me?” Anna whispered urgently.

“He called you an ambitious man-eater,” Richard said, before bursting into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Anna asked, shocked by the flippancy of his response.

“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. “This is all getting so ludicrous now that I’m just starting to find it funny. Besides, he’s only sore because you knocked him back.”

“Is there no end to this, Richard?” Anna cast her eyes down forlornly as she fought back the tears.

“No end to what?”

“The constant criticism, the constant speculation, the constant pressure. It’s awful.”

“You’re not worrying about Don are you?” Henry suddenly piped up, leaning around Richard so he could see Anna. “He was so coked-up he came across as a complete nutter. No one will take him seriously.”

“It’s not just Don.” Anna mumbled.

“If it makes you feel better,” Richard said, stroking her hand, “I fully intend to sue over every false allegation that’s been printed once we get the election out of the way.”

“We’ll have more important things to think about after the election,” Henry sagely reminded them. “I promise you this means nothing. This is just the sort of shit we’ve got to start getting used to. Once again, Anna, the press are going to be scrutinizing your every move for signs of marital disharmony after the Ancroft thing. We need to crush that dead, so let’s just stay focused and keep our heads down and forget about idiots like Monteith.” He paused as if he’d finished speaking, then added. “Politics is full of traitors.”

Henry shook his head, sat back in his chair and crossed his arms in front of him, reminding Anna with those few words that she was not the only one who had made personal sacrifices in this campaign.

She supposed this was just another nasty story that she would have to try and brush off, though that was much easier said than done.

Newcastle came and went in a flurry of flashbulbs, handshakes, smiles and waves. They began with a tour of a new biomass power plant, the details of which passed Anna by, but she deduced it was essentially an “eco-friendly” power station. Richard appeared very interested during the tour, nodding his head fervently and asking lots of questions. Addressing the press outside, he told them he would work hard to support the creation of other similar plants around the country. All the while, Anna made sure she smiled, leant in towards Richard as he spoke (lest the body language experts call them “distant”) and simply laughed off the suggestion that the Lizzie Ancroft story had caused tension between them. The reality was that Anna didn’t know whether it had or not. How can you analyse the state of your marriage when your husband is two days away from potentially being elected Prime Minister? For now, all she could do was stick dutifully to his side and hope they could somehow find their way through the craziness that had become their lives.

After a walkabout in Newcastle city centre, Anna, Richard and Henry sped back to London via Leeds, where Richard stopped to address an audience of
SDP
Youth members. Anna had slept most of the way home in the car while Richard and Henry took a succession of mobile phone calls and chatted animatedly between themselves. As they neared North London, though now awake, Anna continued to keep her eyes shut so she could be left alone with her thoughts. She had such little time to think these days and, increasingly, her life was ceasing to be her own as she gave in to the demands of her new role as Prime Minister’s wife-in-waiting. She still loved Richard, but they were becoming strangers amid the daily onslaught. And as much as she now cared about Henry, having him living with them did increase the pressure. Add to that the fact they were now chaperoned by Special Branch officers wherever they went, there was barely a moment’s privacy between them. How then could she know whether her reconciliation with Richard was for the right reasons? And what kind of life lay ahead for the child growing inside of her, destined to be born into a very unreal world?

T
uesday, 5
th May,
2009
, UK Newswire – The Social Democrats’ lead over the Alliance Party took a knock in the polls today, falling from ten to six points on the eve of the general election.

The sudden drop in support for the
SDP
raises for the first time in the campaign the spectre of a hung parliament should the Alliance Party be able to further capitalise on their gains.

Alliance spokesman, Reggie Winecroft, welcomed the poll results saying: “We all know polls can vary widely from day to day and from pollster to pollster. But the latest results suggest the public are turning their backs on Richard Williams in their droves.”

“Only an Alliance Government can offer the experience and safe hands it will take to continue to steer this country out of the recession which has affected every major economy around the world.”

But
SDP
campaign organiser Ray Mosley, widely tipped to become deputy Prime Minister if his party wins tomorrow, dismissed today’s fall in support as “a flash in the pan”.

“Britain is still very much on course for the change of Government it so desperately needs,” he said. “Recent malicious and untrue headlines have no doubt had some impact on voters but, when faced with the choice of voting for change or the same old ineffective Alliance Party, common sense will prevail.”

The dramatic turn in public opinion followed claims last weekend that Williams had once had a relationship with Alliance
MP
Lizzie Ancroft who, at the time, was battling a cocaine addiction which she claims he was aware of. Williams admitted to a “close friendship” but firmly denied any knowledge of her drug-taking.

In the last day of campaigning, the leaders of the main political parties will each be embarking on whistle-stop tours of the marginal constituencies, before returning in the evening to their own constituencies where they will vote tomorrow morning.

After the success of their last outing together, Anna was really looking forward to spending another morning with Libby and Sandra. They were due to meet at the Willows Residential School in Croydon, which helped children with emotional and behavioural problems. Anna had travelled alone, or as close to alone as it got these days, with John driving her while a couple of police officers followed in the car behind. It had only just dawned on Anna the previous evening that to top off her problems, she and Richard had now become significant targets for terrorist and lunatics.

As she looked out of the car window onto the rainy morning outside, she tried to suppress the butterflies rising in her stomach as she thought of how her every move would once again be picked over. She was becoming tired, very tired, of this whole process. The thought that by winning the election the pressure might become even greater, was terrifying. And in all of this, the glaring irony that she had yearned for this level of fame for twenty years yet, when it finally came, she hated it.

The car swept into the driveway of the school and Anna turned to see what could only be described as a very characterless but enormous Seventies block directly ahead. She could see Libby’s Citroen sitting in the car park and she bet herself that Sandra would also have arrived before her, being the control-freak that she most certainly was. Anna smiled as she imagined Sandra already aside, most likely bossing a junior press officer around as they planned the tour of the school. She would be on tenterhooks, knowing that the brief statement Anna made after the visit could seriously influence tomorrow’s election vote if she was able to convince the public that her husband was a man to be trusted. A man whom she trusted – or desperately wanted to.

Henry had tried to avoid putting too much pressure on her earlier that morning but he had left her in no doubt that she was their only hope of turning the situation around to win a strong majority. “The public love you, Anna,” he had assured her. “They will believe you if you tell them Richard deserves their vote.” He had then patted her on the shoulder as if to say “go to it”. Now here she was, ready to step out in front of the world’s press with the party’s hopes pinned firmly on her. She took a deep breath as she waited for John to open the car door. As soon as her feet hit the ground, the mayhem began.

The head of Willows school, Judith McCormack – alongside Sandra, Libby and an
SDP
press officer – was waiting by the front door to greet Anna, who walked purposefully towards them while the Special Branch officers held back the scrum. She made sure she smiled broadly as the cameras flashed all around her and photographers and reporters shouted her name over and over in an attempt to get her attention.

But just as she was about to hold her hand out to greet Judith, a young male reporter leapt forwards and stuck a radio microphone barely a couple of inches from her face.

“Is yours a marriage of inconvenience?” the reporter shouted at Anna.

“How dare you?” she called back, infuriated by his lack of respect. “I’m a human being you know,” she continued. “You wouldn’t think it was appropriate to ask your neighbour that, so why are you asking me?” The reporter shrugged nonchalantly, only aggravating Anna further. “You think I don’t love my husband, is that it? You think I’m just some money-grabbing actress out for all the power and fame I can get and hanging on to him for dear life?”

Sandra was at her side now, pulling on her arm as the Special Branch officers closed in behind, trying to move her on.

“No. No,” Anna protested. “Let me speak, please.”

The press pack had by now fallen into an absolute shambles of reporters, cameramen and photographers all clamouring to get in closer to witness this dramatic outburst. There were microphones being dangled from every angle in the hope of picking up her comments, while reporters viciously tried to elbow their way to the front.

“Is she cracking up?” She heard one reporter ask another.

“This needs to stop,” she said firmly to the pack as a more dignified but stronger resolve came over her. “You need to know that I didn’t marry Richard Williams for his career, and I didn’t marry him so that I could one day live in Number
10
Downing Street. I married him because I love and admire him. Our marriage isn’t a sham…” Anna felt her head start to spin and she stumbled back a little.

Sandra gripped her arm to steady her, but Anna was determined to continue.

With her voice restored, Anna continued. “I… we, are not fakes. We are two normal people who share the same ideals and desperately want to make a difference. And, yes, this campaign has been tough on our marriage. The never-ending stream of stories making ever-more ludicrous allegations, has been hard to take. But if they are allowed to overshadow Richard’s beliefs and determination to make this country a better place to live for us all then it will be the biggest loss in our political history. Please just let him get on and fight for the job he would be so, so good at.”

The cameras moved in again, flashing over and over, while the assembled reporters were clamouring to ask their questions, each trying to shout louder than the other to be heard above the din. Anna felt a rush of heat sweep through her before her hearing gave way to a single high-pitched tone. Her legs buckled beneath her and Sandra struggled to prop her up. A photographer rushed forwards and picked up the other arm before a police officer was able to help carry her towards the car.

Libby burst into tears at the sight of her sister out cold. “Anna, Anna,” she was shouting as she walked alongside, “can you hear me?” She dashed over to the car and yanked open the door of the front passenger seat to talk to the driver, completely oblivious to the press pack who were by now right behind.

“We’ve got to get her to hospital quickly,” she screeched. “She’s pregnant.”

Marie fought back another wave of nausea as she again watched Anna collapse live on AllNews
24
, which was repeating the clip over and over.

She knew it must have been the strain of all the recent allegations that had finally taken its toll, and she felt worse still to think she had been central to it. But the final blow was the realisation that Anna was pregnant. What if she lost her baby? It would all be her fault. And though she had decided to quit her job at her lunch meeting with Damian, it was too little too late. She hadn’t intended on resigning when she first arrived at the restaurant, but as he pushed her to take the promotion, Marie realised she could no longer contribute to a paper she didn’t believe in. She hated its values – or lack of them – she hated her boss and she had come to hate herself. So now she was unemployed and watching a woman she admired, but had set out to destroy, buckling under the strain and in danger of losing her baby. A woman who she knew had faced the toughest of childhoods – the very, very worst of situations – when Marie had only ever known the safety and security of two loving parents.

She glanced at her watch. It was only four o’clock but she thought she could allow herself another glass of wine to try and relax. The black cloud of depression hung heavily over her again, not even slightly dispersed by her decision to leave the paper.

She headed for the kitchen and plucked the bottle from the fridge door before quickly returning to the living room to recharge her glass. She took a few gulps then filled the glass to the top again before taking a seat on the sofa and staring at the phone. She knew she should call her dad to tell him about her resignation but she had been dreading that conversation for fear he would disapprove of her rash decision. She picked up the receiver and dialled her parents’ number.

“Hello Dad,” she said cautiously when he answered.

“Hello dear, how are you?” he asked.

“Not bad, not bad…” she hesitated. “Just wanted to let you know that I’ve resigned from the
Echo
. I handed my notice in yesterday after being offered a promotion.”

“I see,” he said flatly. “Were you unhappy there?”

“Yes. I had been finding it more and more difficult to produce the kind of stories they wanted me to. Particularly the ones against Richard Williams and his wife.”

“I can understand that. The one at the weekend seemed particularly unpleasant. The poor man couldn’t help being in the photo after all. Didn’t mean he was up to anything himself.” The line went quiet for a few moments before her father spoke again. “What are you going to do now?”

“Well,” Marie said, taking on a defensive tone. “I’ll be sending my
CV
off to a few other papers this week – I’d be so much happier anywhere than the
Echo
– and I’m also thinking of applying to the Red Cross to be a press officer.”

“I hope that something will come up for you soon then, dear.”

Marie gulped back a few more swigs of wine and wondered why the alcohol wasn’t relaxing her. In fact, she was feeling increasingly agitated. She couldn’t understand why her father sounded so disengaged. Like he was just so disappointed with her work on the
Echo
that he’d almost given up on her.

“Is everything okay, Dad?” she asked anxiously.

“We’re fine, dear. We’re just about to head off to the supermarket to do the weekly shop.”

“Okay.” Marie wanted to ask if he was angry with her, but she couldn’t bring herself to confront him. “Love to Mum then,” she said. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, dear. Thanks for calling.”

Marie put the receiver back in the handset and started to cry. She felt so completely lost. She’d given up her job and her income on the spur of the moment and she’d soon be in financial trouble if she didn’t come up with something else. In her heart of hearts she knew it would be tough getting work on another paper, broadsheet or tabloid, after the trash she had produced over the last few weeks and she couldn’t imagine a charity would feel particularly compelled to take her on either. Her career was surely finished.

She would have to retrain and, to do that, she’d need to ask her parents for financial support. After the shame they’d had to endure over her work in recent weeks, she was going to top it off by asking them for money.

Her head spun. She felt nothing but self-hatred and despair. Then an idea came to mind that made her cry even harder.

She walked back through to the kitchen and opened one of the cabinet doors to reach for the little box she kept medication in. She looked inside and pulled out a packet of paracetamol before opening it up. She noticed there was only one missing from a box of twenty. That should be enough, she thought.

Richard eventually made it over to the hospital at six o’clock in the evening, having had to abandon the last day’s campaigning and catch a flight to London from the midlands. He was supposed to be travelling to Bristol right now – along with Anna – to spend the eve of the election in their constituency, but that would have to wait.

He rushed along the hotel corridor to Anna’s room, easily marked by the police officer standing guard outside.

Once inside, he saw Anna propped up in her bed watching the evening news.

“You needn’t have bothered phoning to say when you were coming,” Anna smiled. “I’ve been charting your every move from here,” she said, nodding towards the television.

“That’s modern communication for you,” he laughed, then kissed her tenderly on the forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. Just tired. I’ve not had a chance to sleep for all the tests they’ve been running. Either I’ve been wired up to something or they’ve had a band round my stomach to listen to the baby. Neither of us has had any peace.”

Richard felt a wave of complete devotion to Anna as he looked at her lying so serenely on her hospital bed, her face completely devoid of make-up, yet still to him so beautiful. He kissed her again lightly on the cheek.

“I love you,” he said. “But you’ve got to take it easy from now on. I’m so sorry for pressurizing you to come with me the other day.”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine. Just tired. If the doctors want to call that exhaustion then so be it. They want me to stay in another night but I should be out tomorrow to come with you to the count.”