Laughter and warm applause greeted these words.
‘I fell in love with and married an English girl, who now works as a research fellow at the Courtauld Gallery. Our first child is due on election day.’ Sasha looked up to the heavens and said, ‘Could you possibly make it the day after?’
This time the applause was spontaneous and Sasha smiled down at his wife. A buzzer sounded to indicate that he only had thirty seconds left. He hadn’t anticipated such prolonged applause, and needed to speed up.
‘When I first came to Merrifield to fight the by-election three years ago, I fell in love for a second time. But you rejected this suitor and gave the prize to my rival, although the margin was slim enough for me to hope that you were perhaps suggesting I should try again. Now I am asking you to have a change of heart.’ He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. ‘I want to share a secret with you which I hope will prove how much I care about Merrifield. Before this election was called, I had the opportunity to contest a London seat with a Labour majority of over ten thousand. But I declined that opportunity because I have something else in common with Ms Hunter. Like her, I want to be the Member of Parliament for Merrifield. I may be a carpetbagger, but I want to be your carpetbagger.’
Half the audience rose to hail their standard bearer, while the other half remained in the seats, but even some of them joined in the applause.
Munro waited for Sasha to return to his seat and the applause to die down before he said, ‘I call on Ms Hunter to respond.’
Sasha looked across at Fiona to see that she was furiously crossing out whole paragraphs of her prepared speech. Finally she rose and walked slowly towards the lectern. She smiled nervously down at the audience.
‘My name is Fiona Hunter, and I have had the privilege of representing you as your Member of Parliament for the past three years. I hope you will feel that I have proved worthy of your support.’ She looked up, to receive a smattering of applause from her most ardent supporters.
‘I was born and brought up in Merrifield. England is my homeland, always has been and always will be,’ a line she immediately realized she should have left out. She quickly turned the page, and then another. Sasha could only wonder how often the words carpetbagger, interloper, outsider, even immigrant, had been removed from her script.
Fiona stumbled on, talking about her father, Cambridge and the Union, all too aware that by allowing her rival to go first, she had given him the opportunity to steal her best lines. When the buzzer went to warn Fiona that she had thirty seconds left, she quickly turned to the last page of her speech and said, ‘I can only hope you will give this local girl a second chance to carry on serving you.’
She returned quickly to her seat, but the applause had faded away long before she’d sat down.
No one could have been in any doubt who had won the first round, but the bell was about to go for the second, and Sasha knew he couldn’t let his concentration lapse for even a moment.
‘The candidates will now take your questions,’ said Munro. ‘Please keep them brief and to the point.’
A dozen hands immediately shot up. Munro pointed to a woman seated in the fifth row.
‘How do the two candidates feel about Roxton’s playing fields being sold off by the council to be replaced by a supermarket?’
Fiona was on her feet even before Munro could say who should respond first.
‘I learnt to play hockey and tennis on those playing fields,’ she began, ‘which is why I raised the issue in the House, at Prime Minister’s Questions. I condemned the proposal then, and I will continue to do so if I am re-elected. Let us hope that is something else Mr Karpenko and I have in common, although it seems unlikely, as it was the Labour council that granted planning permission for the supermarket in the first place.’
This time she was rewarded with prolonged applause.
Sasha waited for complete silence before he responded. ‘It is correct that Ms Hunter spoke against the council’s proposal to build a supermarket on the site of Roxton playing fields, when she raised the subject in the House of Commons. But what she didn’t mention is that she is the PPS to the Shadow Minister for Rural Affairs, who has never once supported her. Why not? Possibly because the shadow minister would have pointed out to Ms Hunter that an even bigger sports centre is being built three miles down the road at Blandford, with facilities for football, rugby, cricket, hockey, tennis, and a swimming pool, thanks to a Labour government. If I am elected as your member, I will back the council on this issue, as they have had the common sense not to allow arbitrary political boundaries to influence their better judgement. Be assured, I will always support what I believe to be in the best interests of the citizens of Merrifield. Perhaps Ms Hunter should be elected not to Parliament, but as President of the Not in My Back Yard society. Forgive me if I try to consider the bigger picture.’
When Sasha sat down, the audience was still applauding.
Munro next selected a tall, elegant man, dressed in tweed and wearing a striped tie.
‘What do the Conservatives feel about the defence cuts proposed by Mr Healey when he visited the constituency two weeks ago?’
Fiona smiled, but then Major Bennett had been well primed before he put his question.
‘Perhaps you should answer this one first, Mr Karpenko,’ suggested Munro.
‘Defence cuts are a contentious issue for any government,’ said Sasha. ‘However, if we are to build more schools, universities, hospitals, and, yes, even sports facilities, either cuts must be made or taxes raised, which is never an easy choice. But it is one that can’t be sidestepped. I can only promise that as your representative, I would always weigh up the arguments for any cuts in the defence budget, before coming to a decision.’ He sat down to a smattering of applause.
‘If you could win a battle simply by blowing hot air on your opponents, clearly Mr Karpenko would be commander in chief of the armed forces,’ said Fiona. She had to wait for the laughter and applause to die down before she could continue. ‘Haven’t two world wars taught us that we can never allow ourselves to lower our guard? No, the defence of the realm should always be the first priority for any MP, and it always will be for me if you send me back to Westminster.’
Fiona basked in the prolonged applause before returning to her seat, leaving Sasha in no doubt who had won that round. The next question came from a woman seated near the back.
‘How long are we going to have to wait for the Roxton bypass to be given the green light?’
Sasha realized this was another planted question, as a smile reappeared on Fiona’s face, and she didn’t even need to glance at her notes.
‘The bypass would get the go-ahead tomorrow,’ said Fiona, ‘if planning permission wasn’t being held up by the current Labour government, which as I don’t have to remind you is under Socialist control. I wonder why. Perhaps Mr Karpenko will enlighten us. But if the Conservatives are elected, I can assure you the bypass will be a priority.’
Fiona smiled triumphantly at Sasha as she sat down to even warmer applause than before. But then she knew, if the bypass went ahead, the local council estate would be levelled to make way for it, which would turn Merrifield into a safe Conservative seat once again. She also knew that Sasha couldn’t admit that was the real reason he was backing the council on this issue.
‘I’m in no doubt,’ he began, ‘that Roxton needs a bypass. The only thing under discussion is where the route should be.’
‘Not in your back yard!’ shouted Fiona, to cheers and catcalls.
‘I can promise you,’ said Sasha, ‘that as your member I would do everything in my power to speed the process up.’
The applause, or lack of it, made it clear to everyone in the hall that Fiona had won another round.