Heads You Win Read online

  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 toward 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 learned 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 reelected. 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 center 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 judgment. 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 defense 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.

  “Defense 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 defense 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 defense 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 leveled 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.

  Munro finally gave in and pointed to an elderly woman who had jumped up and raised her hand at every opportunity.

  “What plans do the candidates have for raising the old-age pension?”

  “Every Conservative administration has raised the old-age pension in line with inflation,” said Fiona. “The Labour government has always failed to do so, possibly because under their stewardship, inflation has risen on average by fourteen percent per year. So I say to anyone of pensionable age, if you hope to maintain, or improve, your standard of living, make sure you vote Conservative. Actually, I would say the same to anyone below pensionable age as well, because we’ll all get there eventually.” This suggestion brought a loud cheer from the Tory supporters, who clearly felt their candidate had come fighting back after her earlier setback, and was now ahead on points.

  “I sometimes wish,” said Sasha, when he rose to reply, “that Ms. Hunter would, just for once, take a long-term view and look beyond next week’s election. The present average life expectancy in this country is seventy-three. By the year 2000, it will be eighty-one, and by 2020, when I will be sixty-eight, and eligible for the state pension myself, it is predicted to be eighty-seven. No government—of whatever color—will have the resources to keep raising the old-age pension year on year. Hasn’t the time come for Members of Parliament to tell the truth about such difficult and important issues as this, and not to spout platitudes, in th