“Thank you so much for doing this – I hope it wasn’t too much trouble fitting me in between all your other meetings”.
“Not at all Ms Lu the pleasure was all mine and please pass on my regards to your mother. When I see her next I shall encourage her to get you to apply for one of our internships – we could do with someone keeping us on our toes.”
‘Oh shut up about the internship you idiot and why on earth are you bringing up her mother’ he berated himself internally.
He got up from his seat and she rose from the sofa “Now can I get Julia to call you a cab?”
He proceeded to walk her towards his open office door and stopped to shake her hand as she exited into the main office where Julia was standing waiting to see her out.
“No thank you congressman I’m heading back up to George Town on the metro. Thanks again. I’ll send you a copy of the article once it’s published.”
“I look forward to it, mind how you go now”.
Though he tried to turn and go back into his office he couldn’t help but watch as Julia led her through the open plan office towards the exit leading out on to the main corridor. Greg Harmer his Chief of Staff raised his eyes from his desk on the left of Julia’s. He raised his eyes back at him “Exactly Greg. Maybe you can set up more meetings like that last one for me?” Greg laughed he knew what David meant – most of the meetings he had were with men old enough to be his grandfather and none of them looked anything like Megan Lu.
He walked back into his office and sat down at his desk trying to bring his attention back to the security briefing he’d been reading on domestic and foreign threats to US interests. He found this almost impossible - images of blue suede high heels kept popping into his head.
He recalled how the meeting with Megan had come about. It had been three months ago and he’d been at one of the countless soirees going on round Washington while congress was in session. At some point in the evening he’d found himself in a side room looking at a painting depicting one of the main battles in the civil war. As he was absently viewing the picture an older woman wearing a fabulous dress accentuating her figure approached and introduced herself as Jennifer Lu. Being a new congressman and not particularly well versed in foreign affairs he had no idea who she was but greeted her politely and asked her what she thought of the picture.
They’d started chatting about art and the conversation had moved on to politics and the economy, all of which was fairly standard stuff before during a natural pause in the conversation Jennifer had mentioned that “the owner’s best pictures were actually upstairs on the first floor”. He’d surprised himself by asking “if she minded guiding him to them”. She’d agreed and he’d begun to move back towards the gathering of people situated in the large hall beneath the main staircase. But before he could get far she’d grabbed his hand and said “there’s a side staircase” she then gently pulled him back towards the other end of the room. He noticed that even after she’d got him moving she kept hold of his hand. She turned and moved in front of him as she opened the previously unseen door giving him the opportunity to look at the back of her dress, which was cut low to draw attention to her figure. As they started up what had obviously been a servant’s staircase he found his face on the same level as a pair of well-toned legs retreating up the staircase before him. Exiting the staircase they found themselves in a dimly lit corridor lined with old paintings. He slowed to give the impression of wanting to take a look at the art but she wasn’t fooled. She looked at him briefly and then moved him towards another door across the corridor. With a glance down the unoccupied corridor he followed her into the room, which she subsequently locked behind them.
It was only after he got back home that evening and done an internet search that he realised the attractive older woman who’d seduced him was Jennifer Lu - the wife of Seung Lu the UN Secretary General. She texted him the following day to thank him for his ‘stimulating conversation last night’, he’d laughed out loud at this and in the same vein texted her back to express his thanks for ‘the vigorous discussion’. They’d met again a couple of weeks later at another party but she kept the interaction entirely platonic and he’d done likewise. There was an unspoken agreement that they’d both had a great night but neither of them wanted to take things any further. At the end of their conversation that evening, which had taken place in a wider group, she’d mentioned that she had a daughter at Georgetown and “would he mind very much if she interviewed him for her University newspaper’”. He’d had little choice other than to agree.
His hectic schedule had meant that the meeting wasn’t scheduled to happen for several weeks and he hadn’t really given it another thought. It was only when Julia had shown him his diary at the beginning of the week that he remembered agreeing to it at all. He’d been expecting to be interviewed by some spotty student dressed in grungy clothes, the reality however couldn’t have been further from the truth.
He wondered if this had been her mother’s plan all along. Having seen her in action on the social circuit he wouldn’t have put it past her to have facilitated such a meeting. Megan couldn’t be in on this as well could she? He didn’t think so, she’d have to have been a fantastic actress to pull off the slightly kooky but attractively earnest display he’d just witnessed – no this was solely of her mother’s making. He wondered absently if Megan would apply for the internship or not. Thinking about this he took his phone out. The message he sent was short, and in the language of Washington politics, to the point. ‘Great to meet Megan, hope she got what she needed from the interview. Understand she’s interested in an internship in Washington? Told her she should apply for the one I’m currently recruiting for. Look forward to seeing you at the Jacobson function next week’. That should do the trick he thought.
_______________________
A week later he returned to his office from a lengthy and largely ineffective meeting of the National Republican Congressional committee to find a pile of 20 applications on his desk. He knew the vast majority of prospective intern applications had already been assessed and discarded by Greg. The remaining candidates were the ones judged to be the most suitable. There were various post-it notes sticking out from the pile where Greg had summarised his assessments. Most members of congress received a couple of thousand applications for every position so it was quite a task to sift through them all. He knew Greg had got the rest of the team to assist him with this.
He took the pile of applications, poured himself a whiskey and sat down on his leather armchair to go through them. Starting at the top he began reading, adding a few notes to Greg’s comments as he worked his way through the pile. As expected most of the candidates appeared to be a lot cleverer and more accomplished than he was and in fact probably most Nobel Prize winners. Though this was par for the course for such a highly sought after position it was also slightly demoralising to know that the lowest paid person in the office was likely to be smarter than him. The last application in the pile was thicker than the others. He read the name at the top, ‘Megan Lu, Georgetown University Politics and Economics’. The additional thickness of the application was caused by the University newspaper attached. Pulling it out from under the application he unfolded it and was greeted by a copy of his publicity photo prominently displayed on the front page. The tag line read ‘Exclusive Interview with New Congressman David Mitchell’. So far so good he thought. He flipped through to pages 4-6 to read the full article. Despite a couple of minor aspersions to the Republicans having no ‘influence on procurement processes’ she’d largely replicated their conversation without any overt criticisms.
He had a quick flick through her application and saw that it was refreshingly free of elements highlighting her personal brilliance and much more focused on her own interests. She seemed to have quite strong opinions on immigration, foreign policy and freedom of speech. Somewhat different to his own maybe but that was better than the sycophantic remarks he’d seen in some of the other a
pplications.
He called for Greg through the open office door. “Greg have you got a moment”.
Greg came in from the main office. “David. How was the NRC meeting? As fulfilling as always?”
“It was so fulfilling I had to come back here and pour myself a stiff drink. God those idiots couldn’t pick a winning candidate if their lives depended on it. I kept my mouth shut for most of it. I didn’t think they’d appreciate any pointers from an upstart first time congressman they hadn’t wanted to support in the first place”.
“Probably best. Any other news?”
“Nope not really. Devlin Stewart appears to be getting closer to ‘spending more time with his family’. The Post have got hold of telephone transcripts between him and his wife’s sister”. He sipped on his drink and waved Greg towards the sideboard to get himself one. Greg duly did so. On his return Greg sat down on the sofa.
David waved the pile of papers in his hand “So I see you’ve eventually got round to going through the intern applications”
“Yeah, painful but I got the rest of the team to help – I had to really there were so many”
“I know, we really should have a better system for dealing with these things, maybe some sort of centralised system where the party provides each congressman with a selection of possible interns? I’m sure most of those applicants you went through will have applied to a dozen other congressmen as well”.
“Sounds like a good idea. You’ll get no argument from me. I’ll leave it to you to put it to the NRC” Greg said with a smile.
He grimaced “I guess not then”.
“Anyway what do you think Greg? Who’s your preferred candidate?”
“Oh they’re all much of a muchness to be honest”. Greg paused briefly and then said without a hint of irony. “But maybe we should think about getting in a woman rather than a man? Help balance the office up and keep us politically correct and all that?”
He gave him a wry smile “Greg I’m not quite as naive as I look, I notice that a certain candidate’s CV ended up at the bottom of the pile”.
“Oh whose was that?” He said it with such an innocent face that he knew for sure he’d done it deliberately. Greg went on to say “Listen David she’s a great candidate and after putting your ugly mug on the front cover of such a widely read newspaper how can you say no?”
He laughed, “I know but how do you think it will go down. Do you think the press will get in a fluster about a congressman employing the daughter of the UN secretary general?”
“Of course they will – eventually – but it will take them a while to pick up on it. To be honest if they ever get a look at her they’re more likely to go down the ‘single congressman hires attractive intern’ line. Having said this even that angle isn’t going to play too badly for you, after all didn’t you make it clear in your election campaign that one of your primary policy objectives, and the main reason you went into politics, was because you were ‘looking for love’.
David frowned at him. “No that wasn’t one of my policy objectives nor the main reason I went into politics as you well know. Anyway despite your completely unwarranted and unfounded allusions I’ve reviewed all the applications and believe there is one standout candidate.” He made a show of flicking through the pile of papers in front of him. “This candidate has all the qualities I expect to see in someone I will be working closely with, now what was the candidate’s name again……?” He passed Greg Megan’s application.
It was Greg’s turn to laugh. “Right I’ll make the call. If any of the press do pick up on this, which I suspect is unlikely in the short term, I suggest we play the ‘Congressman Mitchell left the decision making process entirely in the hands of his Chief of Staff Mr Greg Harmer’ yes?”
“Agreed. You’ve made an inspired choice Mr Harmer.”
Chapter 5 - JOE - January 2016
The alarm went off next to Joe’s head. He felt like someone had just banged a gong, similar to that scene from the beginning of all those old Rank Distribution films. It took him a few seconds to work out where the noise was coming from and then he swept his arm out knocking the offending object to the floor.
With the abatement of his alarm he now had the opportunity to contemplate how long he had left to live. He wasn’t sure, but the way he was feeling he might already be dead. Well at least he hadn’t been woken by the constant light this morning though he wasn’t sure the price was worth paying as his head felt terrible. When he turned over his stomach lurched as if he’d just gone over the top of a rollercoaster. He couldn’t remember when he’d had a hangover so bad. He wondered if Michael had deliberately given him a bad batch of homebrew. Joe wouldn’t blame him if he had. Though he’d tried to stick to the branded beer, luxuries like that were in short supply and had soon run out - leaving no alternative but the home brew.
He put his hand up to the small cupboard hanging next to the side of his bunk and on the second attempt managed to open the door. He rummaged around for what seemed like an eternity until his hand came across the distinctive shape of a sheet of Nurofen. He pulled the silvery sheet out and peered at it blurrily. Two left, thank God. He put them in his mouth and swallowed without water – he couldn’t face making it to the bathroom to get some. As he put his pillow over his head he heard Peter Jackson his bunk mate whistling as he got up to go for a shower. To Joe it sounded like someone was scraping their nails down a blackboard.
Two hours later he woke again. The first thing he noticed was that his bladder was bursting; the second was that his alarm clock was lying on the floor smugly telling him it was 10.20 in the morning. He lurched out of his bunk realising he was massively late for work. Unfortunately he’d forgotten that he was also massively hung over. The sudden movement necessitated him rushing out of his room and down the corridor to the toilet. After emptying the contents of his stomach he lifted his head from the toilet bowl and noticed he was still wearing the same clothes from the night before. All in all not the best way to start a day.
After a refreshing (for once) cold shower he put on some clean clothes and carefully made his way to his workstation. There was no point heading to the dining area. He’d missed breakfast and Carole was a stickler for keeping to the set meal times. He knew he should really be heading out to his drill site to pick up the next set of samples but the thought of a 90 minute snow track ride with the sun shining into his eyes sounded like torture. When he eventually made it to the lab Wendy was the only one there.
“Well hello sailor. What do we have here?” “You look very similar to my friend Joe, but you can’t be him as he should have been up and out of the station by O nine hundred hours at the very latest”.
He gave her a pained smile. “I’m not going to lie to you Wendy, I’m a bit fragile this morning. Do you have any Nurofen on you by any chance, I used my last ones earlier?”
Wendy rummaged around on her desk and then brought him over couple of tablets and a glass of water. “You’re in luck. I don’t feel so great myself but you look much worse than I feel so here you go.” She looked at his pale face and cracked lips. “How much did you drink last night?”
He thought about the question for a moment and then replied. “Wendy I can honestly say that I have absolutely no idea. In fact I can’t seem to recall much of last night at all. Was it a good party?”
Wendy smiled. “Oh yes a fabulous time was had by all…..” She paused for full effect. “Though I can’t say a certain Professor Chapman looked best pleased when you started snogging Susie Pilchard….” “I dare say Ms Pilchard’s days as the station’s comms officer are numbered”.
He gave a start at Wendy’s comments. “Please tell me you’re joking Wendy? Susie Pilchard?”. A vague recollection of a large buxom woman squeezing his arm while her mouth locked over his surfaced from the depths of his mind. “But why did you let me do this Wendy. In the first conversation I ever had with Susie she made it clear she was on the lookout for a husband! That was her pri
me motivation for coming to Antarctica – a high male to female ratio”. He put his head in his hands “Oh my God what on earth was I thinking? Florence is going to have a fit and Susie will be on my tail forever more. Oh this is dreadful. I am never taking another sip of homebrew ever again”.
He suddenly realised he’d spoken out loud. Wendy laughed. “Well well well Dr Harper you are a very naughty boy indeed. Professor Chapman, in the equipment shed, with the lead piping and all that. Tut tut tut tut tut.” She wagged her finger at him.
He could have kicked himself, well at least he would have, had he not been unable to raise his foot more than an inch off the floor at that precise moment. “Oh this is a nightmare. I think I’m going to have to become a monk or something”.
“Oh don’t worry lover boy I was only joking. I don’t care what you get up to. Ben and I have known for ages anyway. Every time Madam Chapman speaks to you you look like you’ve been caught stealing sweets from the newsagents.”
He slumped in his chair. “Is it that obvious? Anyway I can’t worry about all that now. It’s just about all I can do to sit upright in this chair”.
Wendy couldn’t resist having the last word. “Ok Joe I’ll leave you to suffer alone, anyway I need to message Susie to let you know you’ve surfaced. She was in here earlier looking for you”.
O-Negative: Extinction Page 6