Heads You Win

“All in good time,” said Alf. “But first, I want to know how you’re getting on at the Courtauld, Charlie.”

“You are sitting next to Dr. Karpenko,” said Sasha, giving his wife a nod.

“Many congratulations. You must be very proud.”

“Not as proud as I am of Sasha, who may well be an MP after the next election,” said Charlie, coming in bang on cue.

Alf couldn’t hide his disappointment. It was some time before he managed, “So you’ve been selected for another seat?”

“Not quite yet,” said Charlie, as Gino served their first course. “But he’s on the shortlist for Wandsworth Central, and as he came top in the first round by a fair margin, we’re feeling fairly confident.”

“Congratulations once again,” said Alf. “I can’t pretend I’m surprised, because I meant it when I said I hoped to live long enough to see you take your place in the Cabinet, though I confess I’d rather hoped it might be as the member for Merrifield.”

“But you told me you wouldn’t expect me to stand for Merrifield again. And in any case, now that Fiona has begun to establish herself in the House, we can assume it will go back to being a safe Tory seat at the next general election.”

“I would normally agree with you,” said Alf, “if it weren’t for the recommendations of the boundary commission, which have just been published.”

“Am I missing something here?” asked Charlie. “I feel like Alice at the Mad Hatter’s tea party.”

“That’s not surprising, because not many people outside the Westminster hothouse have even heard of the boundary commission. It’s an independent body that comes together as and when required to review the parliamentary landscape, so that any anomalies that have arisen over the years can be ironed out. In their wisdom, the Commission has decided that Merrifield’s boundaries should be redrawn to include Blandford, a few miles up the road, and form a new constituency that will retain the name of Merrifield.”

“Does that mean Merrifield will become a safe Labour seat?” asked Sasha.

“No, I can’t pretend it does,” said Alf, “but we’ve done the calculations, and it will certainly be a key marginal. In fact the Guardian has listed it as among the seats that will decide who wins the next election.”

The waiters cleared away the first course, although Sasha’s soup had gone cold. “And how has Fiona reacted to this bombshell?” he asked.

“She appealed, of course, and fought the commission’s decision tooth and nail, but she lost, and had to decide whether to look for a safer seat, or stay put and contest Merrifield. I’m told that the chairman of the Conservative Party left Fiona in no doubt what was expected of her, so she’s just announced that she’ll be defending the seat.”

Although the main courses had been served, Sasha’s knife and fork remained in place.

“In view of the changed circumstances,” said Alf, “I called a meeting of the committee last night and they unanimously agreed that if you’d be willing to stand as our candidate, we wouldn’t look elsewhere.”

“How long has he got to make up his mind?” asked Charlie.

“I’ve promised to report back to the committee by the end of the week.”

“Before Wandsworth Central select their candidate?” said Sasha.

“You know perfectly well, Sasha, that whoever Wandsworth Central select will win by a landslide, whereas I’m convinced that you’re our best hope to capture Merrifield, and therefore give the Labour Party a chance of clinging on to power.”

“That sounds to me like a not very subtle attempt at arm-twisting,” said Charlie.

“Sometimes known as backroom politics,” said Alf, as Elena came bursting out of the kitchen.

Alf immediately stood up. “The moussaka was mouthwatering, my dear,” he said. “And there’s still your famous banoffee pie to follow.”

“Yes, but not before we all have another glass of champagne,” said Elena. “I assume Sasha has told you the good news?”

“We’ve been discussing little else,” said Alf.

“And I think you’ll find he’s already made up his mind.”

Alf looked disappointed, Charlie surprised, and Sasha puzzled.

“Oh yes,” said Elena. “Konstantin if it’s a boy, Natasha for a girl.”

Sasha, Charlie, and Alf all burst out laughing.

“What did I say that was so funny?” asked Elena.

*   *   *

Dear Chairman,

It is with considerable regret, and much soul-searching, that I have decided not to allow my name to go forward as the prospective Labour parliamentary candidate for the constituency of …

Sasha placed his pen on the desk, leaned back, and thought yet again about the decision he and Charlie had finally agreed on.

Even at this last moment, he considered changing his mind. After all, it was a decision that could change his whole life. And then he thought about Fiona. He picked up his pen and wrote the words “Wandsworth Central.”

32

ALEX

Boston