by Stan Mason
He peered at her through half-closed eyes. ‘Don’t worry, my dear,’ he managed to say. ‘It won’t affect you.’
‘Can you clarify that for me please?’ she demanded in a soft tone for she felt great pity for the scientist.
‘I injected one of the monkeys with an experimental does of Apollo-y and he bit me. You see me now as normal. You ought to have seen me last week. My face swelled up at double the size.’
‘I’m sorry to see you in this condition,’ she told him sadly. ‘Is there anything I can do for you.....anything you want?’
‘No,’ he returned, his body shaking as he coughed loudly. ‘I don’t need anything.’
‘Are you taking ferradil-x tablets every day?’ She envisaged that he might not be able to take them while in this condition but he assuaged her fears.
‘Yes... yes,’ he replied slowly. ‘I insisted I have them every day. I can’t let the experiment lapse on account of a monkey bite.’
She spent half an hour with him until he fell asleep and she returned directly to her hotel. There was really nothing for her to concern herself about the experiment. She returned to the hospital the following morning to visit the scientist and he seemed very much improved.
‘You’ve come on in leaps and bounds since yesterday,’ she told him with a smile on her face.
He smiled back at her weakly and nodded. ‘The pain has gone and so has all the swelling,’ he rattled. ‘You must have waved a magic wand that cured me when you left last night..’
‘If only I had one,’ she laughed ‘I’ve had a word with the nurse and they’ll discharge you tomorrow. I suppose you can’t wait to get back to your work.’
‘I can’t,’ he told her candidly. ‘But your visit’s not for a while. Why have you come?’
Her face puckered up as she spoke. ‘I’ve been feeling a little low lately. I came to ask you about it. But after seeing you in hospital, I’m sorry I came.’ ‘I know you now, Mrs. Templeton. You use up all your energy on one action or another wearing yourself out. It creates stress in you and the one thing that ferradil-x hates is stress. You must slow down in your activities. Then you’ll feel better.’
‘Huh!’ she guffawed. ‘I’m right in the heart of a General Election in Britain....contesting a seat in Parliament and it’s tough going. I’m talking to hundreds of people every day asking them to vote for me.’
‘How long will it go on?’ He shifted uncomfortably in the bed.
‘Not much longer, thank God!’ she replied swiftly. ‘Not much longer.’
‘When it ends you must slow down. Come back and see me again.’
She left the hospital much happier than when she first arrived in Agadir. It was sad to see the scientist in hospital but she was satisfied with his explanation. Now she wanted to see her friend Ahmed. There was no point in going to his office on a Sunday because he wouldn’t be there. She wandered into the public square and sat down for a moment in the hot sunshine. Ahmed wasn’t anywhere to be seen and, after a while, she took a taxi to his home address. It was the hovel that always made her shudder when she thought about the night she had stayed there.
She knocked on the door and one of Ahmed’s young brothers answered.
‘Is Ahmed at home.’
The boy failed to respond but immediately went inside., There was a torrent of Arabic dialect and the eldest sister came to the door.
‘He ees not een today,’ she uttered closing the door rudely in Diana’s face
There was still the same resentment she had felt during her stay in the hovel. It was something that would never be resolved within the family....a Christian becoming involved with a Muslim.
She caught the aircraft back to England that evening. She could feel stress building up inside her. Dr. Mahmoud was right. She had to slow down but there was her commitment to the Conservative Party with regard to the General Election. For the moment, it would have to come first but at least there would soon be an end to it after the voters had made their decision.
* * *
The last week of the hustings was frantic. Candidates from all the parties urgently tried to get their messages across to the public within the next few days and the door to door canvassing increased in intensity. Diana was performing eight sessions each day, together with the musicians, and the effort began to take its toll. She wished with all her soul that the day of the General Election would come so that she could go home and sit in the comfortable armchair in her lounge and forget all about it. The newspapers had become fully aware of her remarkable campaign and they printed details of her speeches daily. It was definitely a bull-point in her favour. Meanwhile, her opponent, Roger Spooner, the entrenched Labour candidate with many years of Parliamentary experience ran his campaign from a van with a loud-speaker fixed to the roof. He drove around the streets shouting at people to vote for him. Which candidate would win in the end? One with a van and a loud-speaker or one with a musical band? The hours were fleeting by and all would soon be revealed.
Carol was delighted with the situation, thinking hard about winning her bet with Dennis March. It wasn’t the money that inspired her, although the sum of a hundred pounds would be welcome. She simply wanted to wipe the smile off his face and make him eat humble pie.
The day of the General Election finally arrived and Diana stood outside the polling station dressed in a light blue suit, holding a schedule which contained the names and numbers of all the voters. It was a very exciting day; one in which she could relax without having to speak although she did pass the day talking to voters as they came and went. She was so tired at the end of the day that she didn’t really care about the result. Despite her great effort and brilliant ideas, she considered that she had no chance of winning. At nine o’clock that evening all she could think of was relaxing at home with a drink in her hand watching a film on television. She closed her eyes when she thought about the Red Cross shop. Although she had some excellent volunteers, when the cat was away the mice will play. She really wanted to get back there to check that everything was in order. Even more important was that she had entered a date in her diary to attend the Red Cross National Assembly. Her fame from the television programme and the latest newspaper reports caused the organisers to ask her to address the assembly. After all she had done to influence the people to vote for her, it would be refreshing to talk to a large group of people who were willing to listen to her.
That evening, the ballot boxes were delivered to the Town Hall and the people hired to count the votes began to stack them into boxes. Each standing candidate had a box with his or her name on the front and, as the voting papers were opened, they were place in the appropriate candidates box. Roger Spooner, dressed in a sporting jacket, stood at the back of the room looking very confident. He firmly expected to return with a majority over ten thousand votes. He was annoyed at Diana’s intrusion into his territory believing that her attempts to oust him were simply a legend in her own mind. He watched the boxes on the table like a hawk becoming a little concerned that Diana’s container was filling up quite well...only a little behind his own. The other candidates fell well behind the two leaders and Spooner believed that Diana’s votes would soon run out. However he was in for a big surprise because it didn’t turn out that way. Suddenly they were neck and neck in the count with just a few hundred votes left. Diana’s started to feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Could she possibly have turned the tide in her favour to achieve a fantastic victory?
Shortly after all the votes had been counted, Diana was called to the officiating table together with Roger Spooner.
The Recording Officer cleared his throat. ’The situation is this,’ he stated plainly. ’The votes for Mr. Spooner are twenty-one thousand four hundred and sixteen. Those for Mrs. Templeton are twenty-one thousand four hundred and seventy-nine. As the margin is so close, do you wish to dem
and a recount?’
’I certainly do!’ muttered Spooner angrily. At the last election he had a majority of twelve thousand...now he faced defeat. It was inconceivable to him! The votes were recounted and the ordeal continued for both candidates. Diana really wanted to get home and sleep but she was forced to wait until the recount was over. Eventually the Recording Office was satisfied with the conclusion and he climbed the rostrum to address the few people who were there.
’As the Recording Officer for this constituency,’ he related, ’the votes recorded are as follows: Peter Grimes, New Liberal Democrats, two thousand three hundred and six. Angela Hendrey, National Loony Party, eight hundred and seven. Roger Spooner, Labour, twenty-one thousand four hundred and eighteen. Diana Templeton, twenty-four thousand four hundred and ninety-two. I declare Diana Templeton the Member of Parliament for this constituency.’
A roar went up from Carol Hemsley while Roger Spooner looked very down in the mouth. The impossible had happened...he had lost his seat in a Labour stronghold. Diana didn’t seem to take in the fact that she had won but Carol was over the moon at the result. She hugged her protégé so tightly in her excitement that Diana was almost unable to breathe.
’We did it!’ she cried loudly caring little that other people could hear her delight. ‘We did it!’ She could now collect the hundred pounds she had bet with Dennis March and make him eat humble pie. She could hardly wait to see him again. Her protégé had triumphantly won a seat in the House of Commons when all the signs were against her. She had accomplished a mission impossible coming out a winner and she had done it all by herself.
The newspapers made the most of the story. Conservative woman in Parliament with a husband who was Deputy to the Labour Health Minister. It was too good a story not to print.
The party held on the following day was outstanding. It was an auspicious occasion and the wine flowed as well as the provision of an excellent buffet. No one could believe that Diana has won the seat in a Labour stronghold the first time she ventured into politics. Dennis March paid Carol the amount he lost on the bet very reluctantly.
‘So....the three-ringed circus won the day,’ gloated Carol rubbing salt into the wound.
‘Maybe we should revise our operations for the next General Election,’ submitted March indelicately. ‘She certainly the right woman to take us through this century. I’ve seen her curriculum vitae. There’s an error with her age though.’
‘She looks so young for her age. It’s hard to believe.’
‘I reckon someone made a typing error and put in fifty seven instead of twenty-seven,’ he muttered.
‘You should have heard her,’ continued Carol enthusiastically. ‘She spoke with such force, such vehemence, such strength and it all made sense. She’s going to do great things for the Party.’
March nodded and moved off to a group of other people. Diana was listening to a few successful candidates each of whom held a glass of wine in their hands when the door opened and Robbie and Karen entered. She turned to look at them in surprise placing her glass on the table before moving towards them. They both hugged her, congratulating her warmly on her success.
‘My, my!’ exclaimed Robbie in wonderment. ‘I thought Dad was brilliant getting his appointment but you really take the cake. First I thought you were going to be a great film star. Now you’re an MP. What next do you have up your sleeve?’
‘We followed your progress in the newspapers,’ related Karen delighted with the success of her mother. ‘They put you on a high pedestal..’
‘Higher than the podium on which I stood,’ joked Diana taking hold of their hands affectionately. ‘I’m so pleased to see you. Would you like a drink?’
‘I don’t think you have the time, mother,’ stated Robbie blandly. ‘The Press is waiting outside for you to give them a statement. It seems, mother, that you’re the dish of the day.’
‘You’d better get out there,’ urged her daughter smartly, ‘while you’re in their good books. You know how quickly a person can fall out of favour.’
Diana went outside to face a volley of newspaper reporters and photographers. They jostled about taking photos of her and shouting out questions.
‘Your Party didn’t get in, Diana,’ called out one reporter informally. ‘but you managed to get in with a mighty swing. What do you say to that?’
‘I told the public the truth.....not politicians’ clap-trap. I meant every world I said with sincerity. If the policies of either major Party doesn’t suit the British public, I shall oppose it and strike out for change.
I’m patently aware that I’m not only responsible for my own constituents but for every person in this country. They need to know that!’
The photographers continued to take pictures of her with flashlights going off all over the place.
‘How do you feel about your husband being on the other side?’ asked another newspaperman.
‘I’d face the Devil if needs be to do my job properly regardless of any counter situation. Come to think of it, now we’re in opposition that’s exactly what I’ll be doing>‘
There was a titter of laughter and then a female reporter posed a question.
‘Are you serious about your plans for crime?’ she demanded.
‘Wouldn’t you?’ exclaimed Diana tartly. ‘How much longer can we tolerate the situation? The police are busy with paperwork which takes them away from doing their job, while the gangs maraud all over the place with guns and knives. I’ve outlined the plan how we can reduce crime in Britain. It’s simply really. It’s up to the Government to implement it without delay or it will remain a yoke around there neck and never go away. I’m going to press the hard. I’ll not let them get away with it. They’ll soon know where I’m coming from. If nothing’s done, the public will eventually make its own feelings known. Vigilante groups will form and then we’ll have trouble. They’ll be worse than the gangs. The lack of commitment by the Government will create a ridiculous situation and they have to realise it. If vigilante groups are formed, the public will have more effective powers to resolve the situation than the police. Is that what they want to happen?’
The questions continued for about twenty minutes and then Diana thanked them for their interest and went back inside to the party. She was on top of the world. Her photograph and comments would be printed in the national newspapers on the following day in all their glory. What other politicians would make of them was another matter. In her opinion, many members of Parliament were arrogant, selfish people, who only stood as candidates for the salary offered to them if they won a seat. Many of them had little experience and were totally inadequate for the task. They simply made up numbers for their Party and, on most occasions, voted as they were told by the Chief Whip. Blind sheep came to mind when she thought about them. Well someone had to intervene to protect the rights of the public and get things straight!
* * *
Although the Press made great play on Diana and her husband, she knew that she would come face to face with him on occasion. However it did not happen because the day before she took her seat in the House of Commons, she received a message to say that Templeton had suffered a serious heart attack and had been taken to hospital. At first, she thought about sending him a ‘Get Well’ card with a basket of fruit then emotion set in and she changed her mind deciding to visit him. After all, they had been married for many years and brought up two children together. She felt that she owed him that much in his hour of need.
‘This is a fine kettle of fish,’ she greeted on entering the private room afford him by the hospital. ‘What happened?’
He smiled weekly, clearly uncomfortable in the bed. ‘I had a severe pain in my chest and collapsed in the street,’ he informed her miserably. ‘You didn’t have to come but I’m glad you did.’
‘I know I didn’t,’ she affirmed. Robbie and K
aren will be here soon to cheer you up.’
He took hold of her hand and she flinched for a moment but didn’t pull away. ‘I’ve always loved you,’ he told her amorously. ‘There was never any other woman in my life...just you. When I look back, I realise I was such a fool but now I’ve come to the end of my life I know I lost my greatest treasure.....you!’
‘The end of your life,’ she guffawed although a feeling of dread passed through her mind. ‘Don’t be so morbid!’
A tear rolled down his cheek as he closed his eyes. ‘You look so beautiful. Do you know you haven’t aged a day in all theses years. Your skin...your eyes...your hair...’ He tailed off tiredly.
‘Now that’s enough of that!’ she chided gently. ‘We mustn’t get melancholy.’
‘I mean it,’ he went on undeterred. ‘I gave up everything for my work. What did I really achieve in all that time? How much did I sacrifice for it?’
‘Hold on, Charles!’ she cut in swiftly. ‘You’re the Deputy to the Minister of Health!’
‘A lot of good it’s done me now my health is failing. Someone else has already stepped into my shoes. So what was it all for? All those hours, days, weeks, months, years I could have spent with you and the children. Wasted....all wasted! When you were in hospital in Morocco, I couldn’t wait to get back to my office. What kind of person would do that when his wife had been attacked and needed him?’ He moaned weakly as more tears rolled down his cheeks. ‘All the years have passed and I’ve got nothing to show for it. Nothing!’
‘You have two wonderful children. Robbie and Karen.’
‘Children whom I’ve hardly ever seen. I don’t even remember them as children. I was never there.’
His head lolled to one side and the bleeper started on the electronic machine behind him. Within a few seconds, a nurse hurried into the room and then ran out to find a doctor. Diana was asked to move into the corridor and she waited there for a while before the doctor and the nurse came out.