Heads You Win

“I called him a couple of hours ago and he’s already on his way.”

“And my mother?” asked Alex. “How is she?”

“Your mother keeps asking me why we constantly change the date for our wedding,” said Anna.

“And what did you tell her?”

“We’re still trying to fit it in between rescuing a bank, opening the latest Elena’s, and preferably when we’re both in the same place at the same time.”

“We could have grandchildren by then,” said Alex.

33

SASHA

Merrifield

Sasha had always managed to survive on six hours’ sleep a night, but once the Prime Minister had visited Buckingham Palace and sought a dissolution of Parliament, he had to learn how to get by on four.

Once again he adopted a daily routine that would have impressed a Bolshoi ballet master, even if it was only for three weeks. He rose every morning at five, and was standing outside Roxton station with a small band of volunteers long before the first commuters arrived. He greeted them with, “Hi, I’m Sasha Karpenko, and I’m…”

At 8 a.m. he took a break for breakfast, a different cafe every morning, and twenty minutes later he would walk to party headquarters in the high street—three rooms hired for a month—and check the morning papers. The Merrifield Gazette had found several different ways of saying it was neck and neck, a close-run thing, everything to play for, but the morning’s headline took him by surprise: HUNTER CHALLENGES KARPENKO TO DEBATE.

“Shrewd move,” said Alf. “She didn’t wait for you to make the running this time. You have to accept immediately, and then we’ll agree later on a date, time, and place.”

“Any time, any place,” said Sasha.

“No, no!” said Alf. “We’re not in any hurry. We need the debate to be in Roxton, and as close to the election as possible.”

“Why Roxton?”

“Because more of our supporters are likely to turn up there than anywhere else in the constituency.”

“But why hold it off until the last moment?”

“It will give you more time to prepare. Don’t forget you’re not up against a university student any longer, but a parliamentarian who’s lived in this constituency all her life. But for now, you should get back on the street and leave us to worry about the details.”

After Sasha had rung the editor of the Gazette to say he would be delighted to accept Ms. Hunter’s challenge, and couldn’t wait to debate with

her, he left HQ to join the early morning shoppers, mainly women and young children, and a few old-age pensioners. During the next three hours he shook hands with as many voters as possible, always delivering the same simple message: his name, his party, the date of the election, and a reminder that Merrifield was now a key marginal seat.

Then came a forty-minute break for lunch at one o’clock, when Alf would join him at a local pub and bring him up to date with what Fiona was up to. Sasha always chatted to the publican about licensing hours and the tax on alcohol, while ordering only one course and a half pint of the local beer.

“Always make sure you pay for your own food and drink,” said Alf. “And don’t buy anything for anyone if they have a vote in the constituency.”

“Why not?” asked a heavily pregnant Charlie, as she sipped an orange juice.

“Because you can bet the Tories would try to claim he was attempting to bribe a constituent, and therefore breaking electoral law.”

After shaking hands with everyone in the pub, they left for a factory visit, where Sasha usually got more hellos than bugger-offs, followed by the school run from three thirty to four thirty—primary, secondary, and finally the local grammar school. This was when Charlie came into her element, and many mothers confided in her that, unlike their husbands, they would be voting for Sasha.

“She’s our secret weapon,” the chairman often told the candidate, “especially as, although Fiona claims to be engaged, her fiancé has yet to make an appearance. Not that I’ll be mentioning that to anyone, of course,” he added with a grin.

Back to HQ around 5 p.m. for a debriefing, before leaving to address two, possibly three, evening meetings.

“But so few people bother to turn up,” said Sasha.

“Don’t worry about that,” said Alf. “It will give you a chance to rehearse a few of the key points and phrases that will need to sound off-the-cuff during the debate.”