Polls Apart

by Clare Stephen-Johnston

  Jasmine, who never missed an opportunity to tell a dramatic story, had said: “Oh my God, the girls at school were just like soooo amazed that Anna’s been staying with us – and that the paparazzi totally know my name. Can I have a sleepover party on Friday after school so my friends can talk to the photographers?”

  Libby hadn’t been able to contain herself in response: “Has no one mentioned the fact your mother killed someone?”

  “Oh yeah,” Jasmine had replied. “They think you and Anna are so brave. Gabby thinks I look like Anna, do you Mum?”

  Dan had chuckled while Libby tutted at the children’s flippancy. In her view, even if people were on the surface being quite PC about it all, their true feelings would soon come out when the murderess turned up in person at the school. And today was that day.

  Libby heard the familiar sound of feet hitting the upstairs landing and watched in silence as her three children appeared in front of her, one by one.

  “Right then,” she swallowed hard. “I guess we’d better get going.”

  Libby took a deep breath then opened the front door. The handful of snappers waiting outside – by now convinced she was never coming out – suddenly leapt into action, bulbs relentlessly flashing as Libby guided her children along the path. A few of the photographers walked ahead of them. Libby stopped for a moment, realising she’d have to make a split-second decision on whether to keep going or flee back to the relative safety of her home. She turned to find Jasmine beaming for the cameras, striking a variety of ridiculous poses, which were quickly copied by her brothers. Soon the three of them were sticking their tongues out, then forcing their mouths wide with their fingers.

  “Come on,” Libby said firmly, pushing the children forwards. “I’d really rather you didn’t take pictures of the kids,” she said to the photographers.

  “We’ve got our shots now. We’ll not show their faces,” one of them replied, backing away to stand at the side where he started looking over what he’d taken.

  Libby walked on purposefully, while the children chattered excitedly about what all their friends would say when they got into the papers. Jasmine was desperately hoping she’d make Heat magazine, which Libby suspected was doubtful.

  She couldn’t believe the continued interest in her and her family. She understood why Anna was still splashed across the front pages – but not her sister.

  They cut across the park, before turning onto the street leading to the school. Libby could feel her heart racing as the familiar faces started to appear in front of her. First she spotted the mother of a girl in Jasmine’s class climbing out of her enormous Land Rover. She kept her head down, desperately hoping to avoid her gaze.

  “Libby,” she heard the woman call loudly.

  Everything inside of Libby screamed “noooooo”, but she turned to face the mother who was now bounding over to her from her car. Ironically, Libby thought, they’d never even exchanged names. But this woman by now had no doubt of Libby’s.

  “How are you?” she was asking, with the most sincere look of concern Libby had ever seen. “I read all about your terrible ordeal – and I had no idea that you are Anna Lloyd’s sister. I just think she’s the most wonderful woman. I feel so connected to your plight. Pippa’s just desperate to have Jasmine for a sleepover, but I’d love to talk to you properly. Would you like to bring her over next Friday night and come in for a glass of wine?”

  Libby was suddenly aware that she was expected to reply. Until that point she had simply stood with her eyes wide open and mouth slightly ajar as the woman spoke.

  “That sounds lovely, yes,” was all she could manage.

  “Fantastic,” the woman shrieked victoriously. “Pippa can give Jasmine our address. See you next week.” She waved casually as her daughter, who had been standing meekly by her side throughout, turned sheepishly to smile at Jasmine before trotting off behind her mother towards the school gates.

  “Yuck,” Jasmine said in a loud whisper. “I don’t want to have a sleepover at Pippa’s. She’s a total swot.”

  “Oh, sorry,” Libby replied vaguely.

  As they neared the school, Libby caught sight of the woman she was dreading seeing most – Franchesca Carruthers, mother of four and queen bee at the school. She had appeared judgmental towards Libby even before she discovered she was a murderess so the thought of how she would treat her now, armed with this knowledge, was almost inconceivable. Typically, Franchesca had already delivered all four children to their classrooms – she was never late – and was now heading straight for Libby who smiled frailly in her direction before pushing the children forwards. But before she could take another step Franchesca had come to an abrupt stop in front of her, where she now stood with arms outstretched. At first Libby thought she was trying to wave them off the premises, but within seconds of being folded into a tight bear hug, she realised they were actually embracing.

  “God,” Franchesca was saying loudly. “You’ve been through hell.” She let go of Libby, only to then cup her face between her large, matronly hands. “I have been fundraising for the NSPCC for the last thirteen years and not for one minute, did I ever stop to think whether someone I knew might have actually been abused themselves.” Tears were now welling up in Franchesca’s eyes while Libby just prayed that she would let go of her face. Fortunately, she obliged, opting now just to rest her hand proprietarily on Libby’s shoulder.

  “I want you to know that you can talk to me any time, okay. If you need space, I can take the kids. If you need support, I can listen. I’m here, all right.”

  Libby nodded, afraid to glance left or right over Franchesca’s shoulder in case she caught the eye of one of the small crowd of parents assembled around them, each one trying to appear as though they were doing anything other than staring.

  “Thank you, Franchesca. I appreciate your support,” Libby finally replied in stunned monotone before setting off towards the school entrance again – mortified, but rather buoyed by her new-found status as a local heroine.

  8

  Davis to Comfort Lloyd Over Lunch at Number 10

  Thursday 9th April 2009, UK Newswire – Prime Minister Kelvin Davis will today meet with Anna Lloyd, the actress wife of opposition leader Richard Williams, as part of an official reception to celebrate Women of Courage.

  Sources close to the Prime Minister admitted Lloyd was a late addition to the guest list, but added that Mr Davis had felt “compelled and inspired” after reading of the actress’s suffering during her youth at the hands of her stepfather.

  Lloyd revealed in a recent newspaper interview that, following years of abuse, she and her sister had killed their stepfather shortly after their mother’s death from alcoholism.

  Lloyd will join eight other women who have overcome extreme adversity, including forty-three-year-old dinner lady, Maggie Rae, who fought off armed attackers at a school in Manchester in July last year.

  Mrs Rae barricaded herself and a hundred children into the school dining room, forcing the mob – who were looking for a rival gang member – to give up their search and leave without harming anyone.

  Davis’s hand of friendship to Lloyd follows a remarkable turnaround in political fortunes for him in the polls, which now put his Alliance Party just a few points behind the SDP. Williams has been unable to stave off an Alliance onslaught following his decision to separate from Lloyd in the aftermath of tabloid claims that she previously worked as an escort girl.

  But the Prime Minister’s decision to invite Lloyd to the lunch at Number 10 did not win the support of all his parliamentary colleagues. Alliance backbencher Lizzie Ancroft said the actress was “not worthy of a place at a table honouring courageous women”.

  She added: “The sordid allegations about Anna Lloyd’s past along with the revelation that she has a previous conviction for the manslaughter of her stepfather, have only added fuel to the publicity juggernaut surrounding this attention-seeking actress.

  “I am disappointed that t
he Prime Minister has chosen to join the circus, turning what should have been a celebration of bravery into little more than a charade.”

  “Do you want me to run through everyone’s names one more time?” Reggie asked, as he broke into a trot in an attempt to keep up with Kelvin’s trademark brisk walk through the halls of Number 10.

  “No, I think I’ve got it thank you. Where’s Lloyd sitting in relation to me?”

  “You’re at the top of the table and she’ll be sitting to your left. You’ll have Anita Blaine on your right – the woman who…”

  “Rescued a drunk from a drain, I remember.”

  “Well, it was more of a flooded ditch than a drain…”

  “I’ve got it Reggie. Where’s Alfie sitting?”

  “The Home Secretary’s in the middle of the table and Minister for Women at the opposite end to you.”

  Kelvin paused briefly just before they reached the door to the reception room.

  “Well, I hope they’ve put the knives away,” he said with a wry smile.

  “Knives?”

  “I’ll be sitting next to a convicted killer, Reggie. You can’t be too careful.”

  “Oh,” said Reggie, looking concerned.

  “Don’t worry, Reg. I’m used to fighting women off.” Kelvin winked at his press secretary before making his grand entrance into the room.

  Anna tried to remain focused on the very broad Mancunian dinner lady who had accosted her as soon as she’d walked into the reception room, but she couldn’t help but steal a long glance at Kelvin as he walked in. She hadn’t seen him up close in at least four months and she thought he’d lost a bit of weight around his midriff. His hair was slicked back as usual, and he’d chosen a bright pink tie for the occasion – clearly to show his feminine side, Anna thought. She had never known quite what to make of Kelvin. While he was a hugely charismatic and engaging character, there was more than a small element of slime around him and it was clear he had an eye for the ladies. He especially enjoyed giving long, lingering glances – of which Anna had been at the receiving end of more than a few. And within a few seconds of entering the room, his eyes had found her out and he was, indeed, staring at her. Anna focused intently on the dinner lady again, who was enjoying a long rant along the lines of “Don’t worry love, all men are shits”. Anna nodded appreciatively and hoped the next two hours would pass quickly.

  Kelvin, who had already greeted a couple of courageous women, quickly sidestepped his way towards Anna.

  “My dear,” he said, in the tone of a long-lost uncle. “So nice to see you here.” He lunged forwards and planted a lingering kiss on her left cheek.

  “Thanks for inviting me,” said Anna “It’s actually my first engagement since the whole marriage saga kicked off – in fact, it’s pretty much my first time out anywhere since then.”

  “Well, you’re among friends here today,” Kelvin said earnestly. Anna smiled politely but decided to move Kelvin’s attentions on before he said something that would really make her regret her decision to join him for this event. She was beginning to sense that the talk about this being “a non-political celebration, focused entirely on the women whose courage it sought to highlight” had actually just been a line to hook her into boosting Kelvin’s campaign. The thought made her stomach lurch and she turned quickly to the lady standing expectantly between them.

  “This is Maggie Rae,” Anna said, touching her new acquaintance on the arm.

  “Hiya, Mr Davis. Thanks ever so much for inviting me,” Maggie gushed.

  “You are most welcome Maggie. I’ve heard so much about you.” Kelvin’s eyes darted around the room as he searched out an advisor or PA who would keep him right on timing.

  “If I could encourage you ladies to move towards the far side of the room, we are going to gather for a small photo.”

  “Oooh, lovely,” Maggie said, heading quickly in the direction Kelvin was pointing.

  The Prime Minister leant in towards Anna. “Might I say, you look particularly beautiful today Anna. Your recent upset has done nothing to harm your looks.”

  “You’re very kind Kelvin. Thank you,” replied Anna curtly in order not to further encourage him. But Kelvin hadn’t finished.

  “You just stick to your guns and stay as far away as you can from Richard, because I’ve always known he’s all front and no substance. Frankly, you need a better man than that. I know how it feels to be publicly dumped and if you ever need someone to talk to, do not hesitate to call me here. Do you understand?” With this he gave Anna a conspiratorial nod, before marching off in the direction of Reggie.

  Anna raised her eyes to the ceiling and sighed at the naivety of her decision to attend. With or without Richard, she was still a political pawn and realised she would have to be more careful in future about the events she chose to support. It was clear Kelvin was still living up to his reputation as a womaniser. Anna couldn’t help but wonder what he would have planned for next week’s visit from the Italian Prime Minister, with whom he famously enjoyed “socialising”, but she had no doubt he would be looking forward to it.

  “Well, the headlines are clearly not going away,” Richard said, making sure he caught Henry’s eye as he made this point, “so we’ve got to look at how we can turn things around. I have my own ideas on what needs to be done, but first I’d like to hear from each of you.” Richard looked around his inner circle expectantly.

  “If I could just say,” Bob jumped in. “It was clear to me from the start that public opinion would not change whilst Richard remained estranged from Anna. People are firmly on her side and, right now, she appears to be a woman in need of support from the husband she clearly still loves. I was never in favour of the separation in the first place…”

  Sandra groaned and raised her eyes to the ceiling.

  “… but, it’s time to look forward, not back. Richard needs to make amends for his wrongdoing.”

  “Are you seriously saying he should go back to Anna after all that’s been said?” Sandra asked, her mouth hanging open with incredulity. “She has just spent the afternoon with Kelvin Davis after all. Talk about kicking sand in our faces.”

  “And maybe we asked for that,” Ray piped in. “I’m with Bob one hundred per cent. I don’t believe we can win this election without Anna back in the fold. The biggest question is going to be whether she’ll have him back and whether the public are going to be willing to forgive him before May 6th.”

  “But how are we going to announce this spectacular U-turn?” Sandra demanded. “It’s going to look like Richard has been forced to go back grovelling. That does nothing to improve our standing…”

  Richard allowed the voices of his colleagues to fade away as he thought about the last couple of weeks. He had been swept into a whirlwind of press conferences, speeches and briefings, which had left him doubting whether he would ever remember who he actually was as a human being. He only knew what he had become. A man who would ditch his wife, a woman he truly loved, at the first sign of a bad poll rating.

  “I know this might come as a shock to some of you,” Henry was talking directly to him now, “but I think I need to start by making an apology today. While I still think Anna needed some time away from the cameras, I fully accept that in not consulting with her first we made a mistake for which I am substantially responsible.” He cleared his throat nervously before turning to Richard. “I am prepared to tender my resignation if it would help this situation.”

  A brief stunned silence followed before Richard finally spoke. “I appreciate that offer, Henry, and I agree that we got this wrong, but I don’t think it’s only you who owes the apologies around here. What happens between my wife and me should never have been about politics and I was absolutely wrong to mix the two things together. It is me who owes her the biggest apology of all and I want to try and do that today. If it doesn’t work out, there’s nothing we can do to change the situation. If I have to fall on my sword over this one I will. So let’s not dis
cuss how it is handled or who gets to know what. All I ask is that you give me a couple of hours to do what I have to.”

  “What about the prison visit at three?” Henry asked.

  “I can be a little late can’t I? My marriage comes first.”

  “Understood,” said Henry meekly.

  The doorman at Number 10 nodded to Anna before setting her loose to face the huge press pack waiting outside. The cameras started flashing just as soon as the door opened and Anna had to momentarily shield her eyes before stepping out. She felt her legs shaking and worried that her movement would seem awkward, such was her tension. She remembered the early years of her career when she would suffer terrible stage fright and would literally have to be forced out in front of the audience. Today, she would have to force herself out. She took a deep breath and walked forwards towards the sea of cameras and reporters all hovering ready behind the barrier on the other side of the street.

  She could hear them calling her name over and over.