Except Ben is clearly no more keen to be in the room than she is. “Well, let’s get on with it,” he says, moving to the end of the conference table.
“From the start, then.”
As he begins his speech, Jasmine is heartened. She is aware of the mammoth task ahead of them, she has seen the polling numbers. They are not in danger of Labour voters switching sides like the last Red Wall defection. But it doesn’t take that to lose. It only needs Labour voters to stay at home, convinced of the endemic corruption of politicians of all parties.
He has amended the speech she wrote in places to suit his style and it works. She notices, although she only sent him the speech the day before, he seldom needs to refer to his notes. He has obviously spent time learning it and she is surprised and pleased. Given the limited amount of free time available to him, it is unexpected. When he draws to a close, she gives him a short burst of applause, five claps, to signify her approval and then asks the first of her questions.
“What do you think of the stories coming out about Richard Exmore?”
“I didn’t know Mr Exmore personally. I understand there is a parliamentary inquiry under way. I will wait for their report before I make any judgements. My sincere condolences go out to his family, though.”
“Good,” she says. “Sidestep the elephant trap. Abusing Richard is not going to win you friends, but you can’t defend him either with the Tory tabloids baying for his soul. And that bit about his family shows you are sympathetic.”
They continue. On the next question, he uses the word “instantiation” and Jasmine pulls him up.
“This is a sixth form, not a university debate club. Keep your sentences short and your words simple.”
And on. Question, response. They cover all the topics likely to matter to youngsters: climate change, Brexit, energy, zero hours contracts, student loans. Ben gives a considered reply to each, nothing wildly adrift from current Labour policy but sufficiently personalised to show where his priorities lie.
The timer on Jasmine’s phone brings them to a halt. Jasmine stands and says, “See you there,” desperately hoping Ben doesn’t ask for a lift. But she need not have worried. Ben nods and heads into his little office to collect his things, and she takes the opportunity to leave quickly.
The sixth form college has the slightly damp, slightly musky smell of badly ventilated municipal buildings. She is gratified to see a mob of youngsters clustered around the Labour Party desk. The Tories are twiddling their thumbs and the Liberal Democrats are not much better. They still haven’t overthrown the stigma of treachery over student loans. Jasmine has always thought of this as a masterpiece of political skulduggery. It was a Conservative policy through and through and yet it was the Lib Dems who ended up taking the blame.
Much more worrying, though, is the crowd around the Greens. The last thing Jasmine wants is to split the Labour vote with the Green party. That would definitely herald a Conservative victory. For all Hayburn’s poverty, there are a host of Tory voting stalwarts in the countryside and in the affluent villages who will never jump ship.
Jasmine finds Pamela already in the auditorium and takes a seat beside her. As the room begins to fill up, Lou comes to sit beside them with a strapping young lad in tow, whom she introduces as Dave. He has the appearance and physique of a rugby player and his eyes are fixed on Lou, a look of appreciation on his face. The other candidates file in and Jasmine starts to panic at the lack of Ben. She begins to regret not giving him a lift, picturing him lost among the unfamiliar streets, unable to get enough signal to get his maps app to work. She almost faints in relief to see him barrelling through the doors, looking flustered and muttering about parking. She watches his eyes rest briefly on Dave, who is entertaining Lou so well she hasn’t even noticed Ben’s arrival.
Ben slides into the end seat on the other side of Pamela just as the dean takes the podium. Each candidate has ten minutes for a speech and ten minutes to answer audience questions. Order was determined by party vote share at the last election, so Ben is first. It is both a blessing and a curse. First is a chance to create impact and for those with a low boredom threshold, it gets a message across before they zone out. But last is also good. You can learn from the reaction of the audience and adapt your responses to questions. You can also plant the last lingering image in the audience's mind.
Pamela reaches out and pats Ben’s back as the dean invites him to take his place on the stage. Ben’s eyes catch Jasmine’s as he stands and she gives him a thumbs-up encouragement. She mouths, “You’ve got this.” And he nods.
It is always hard going on first. The audience is cold. Beside her, Lou is turned away, whispering a reply to a comment from Dave. She is oblivious to Ben’s sudden need for reassurance as he turns his back on them and takes his place at the lectern. As Jasmine knows him well, she can see he is nervous in the set of his shoulders, the tightness in his jaw, but to others she believes he probably looks poised.
“Hello, everyone,” Ben starts. They had agreed this opening to avoid the trap of gender assignment, a far less controversial issue to the young than the middle-aged.
“Phew. I almost didn’t make it on time. I thought I’d have to tell the dean the dog ate my car.”
This was not scripted but Jasmine nods. He’s feeling the mood of the room. It works – the audience perk up and their laughter clearly relaxes Ben. He gives his speech without incident but when the floor is open for questions, the first comes from the team sitting next to the Conservative candidate.
“What do you think of the stories coming out about Richard Exmore?”
Jasmine almost laughs, which would be decidedly awkward to explain. When Ben gives his answer smoothly and immediately moves on, selecting another questioner, she is hard pressed to restrain a fist pump. All the other questions are a doddle. Yes, he supports on-shore wind (take that, Green Party). Yes, he accepts climate change – the scientists have long since reached consensus on this and he’s unclear why we are still debating it. Yes, something needs to be done about the levels of student debt, particularly the interest rates, and he supports Labour’s stance of a wide-ranging review of the whole process.
Ben was a good orator when they were at university. He is even better now. He can modulate his voice well, his gestures underscore his words without being over-dramatic or distracting. He can appear as if he is talking directly to every member of the audience personally. It shows he is just as good with a crowd as he is in small groups and one-to-ones. She makes a note to add more large group events to their schedule. If Ben can do this enough times, he’ll win just by this method alone. They are constrained on time. The election will take place in a few weeks and she has to reach as many people as she can in the time. There are several hundred here tonight. Ben could never have reached so many going door-to-door.
When he takes his seat again, Jasmine wants to lean over and give him a hug. She has to content herself with watching Pamela give him a high five. Lou, however, blows him a kiss. The room quietens for the Conservative candidate. It does not go well. She makes references in her speech to songs and TV programmes aired before these kids were even born. Jasmine can’t help but wonder at the calibre of her support team. Are they all so ancient they cannot relate to youth?
When the Green Party candidate stands up, Jasmine sucks in her breath. Another woman, Jasmine notes, an implicit insinuation that after Richard, only a woman can be trusted to run the area without plunging them into scandal. But the woman reads her speech from her notes, mostly looking down and not engaging with the audience at all. The increasing rustling among the students signals their disengagement.
Ben is a stunning success. He is mobbed after the hustings end. Jasmine, Pamela, Dave, and Lou wait until the adoring masses thin and disappear. Jasmine is elated at how well it has all gone. It is a triumph and her spirits soar. They can do this. They can win.
Then she hears Lou ask, “Ben, if you drove, can you give me a lift back? Hattie left earlier.”
Jasmine sees the eagerness in Ben’s eyes as he agrees and she is sure the disappointment in hers is only matched by that in Dave’s.
Mr and Mrs Smith
Jasmine does not enjoy door-knocking. Her upper-class accent signposts her privileged upbringing, putting her at an immediate disadvantage in connecting with the average Hayburn voter, who frequently struggles to make a pay packet last. As soon as she opens her mouth, she is greeted with the response, “Not from round here, are you, love?”
