She dare not think what Hannah Greene would make of Lou. Jasmine recalls her own first meeting with Ben’s mother and how nervous she was. She pictures Lou giggling over memes with Hannah. Hannah’s wit is sharp and instant. She wields it as a weapon and it is what has kept her feared by the misogynists who infest Parliament. Lou is more cute pet videos and celebrity gossip.
A reminder interrupts her thoughts. Her avoidance of Ben will have to end, unless she fancies walking to their next appointment. Since her car is now in London, she’s arranged a lift with him. With a sigh, she collects her things and goes to find him. Ben is already packed and ready to go when she knocks on his office door. He greets her with a smile as if this morning’s argument were an insignificant event, long forgotten. And maybe, for him, it was.
Although Jasmine has very much not forgotten their row, she recognises they have to continue to work together. It will not be a success if she takes every opportunity to remind him of his failings. She schools her face to a neutral expression.
“Ready for the Rugby Club?” he asks as he shrugs into his jacket. “I must admit I’m looking forward to this. I haven’t been to a game in ages.”
“Game?” Jasmine’s brow furrows. “We’re not going to a game.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s a blood drive. We’re donating blood.”
Ben’s head shoots around. “What? No. I can’t give blood.”
It’s Jasmine’s turn to react. “What do you mean, you can’t give blood?” She pauses for a moment. “Please don’t tell me you’ve paid for sex?” Her hands come up to frame her face.
“What? No!” he protests.
“Taken drugs?”
“No!”
“Then what is it?” Another pause. She debates whether she can ask this, but she needs to know. “Anal sex?”
Ben’s mouth gapes open. “What the … ? No! Nothing like that.”
“Then why can’t you donate?”
Ben holds still. Then he drops his head and mutters, “I’m not good with blood.”
“What does that mean, you’re not good with blood?”
“What do you think it means, Jasmine.”
“Do you faint?”
“More woozy. I’ve never fainted.” He says it with pride and Jasmine struggles to hide her scorn at his tiny achievement.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before? It’s been in your diary for a week.”
“It just says Hayburn Rugby Club. If it had saidblood donation,I might have warned you.”
“Problem is, I’ve got the local press coming and the staff are staying late specifically for us. Can’t you just not look? When they prick your finger to test your iron levels, just stare at the floor. Then when they are putting the needle in and taking the blood, just look to the other side. It’s easy. The equipment is all on one side and below the chair.”
Ben turns pale just with her words, but he shrugs. “I’ll try, but you’d better stay close.”
Jasmine huffs. It was sheer coincidence the Blood and Transplant Service were due in Hayburn, so close to the election. If she hovers around Ben, she will forgo her own chance to donate. She could easily give blood another time, but the team won’t be back for Hayburn for a while. By then she will be back in London. It can’t be helped. No one is going to be taking pictures of her. As long as the candidate is seen doing his bit, it is all that counts. “Yes, okay,” she agrees, and Ben looks a tiny bit happier.
He is quiet as he drives them out. Jasmine recognises a few of the volunteers’ cars in the carpark, including Lou’s. She’d be happier if the young woman were elsewhere, especially when Ben is around reporters, but she couldn’t foresee their passionate embrace last night. And this was the quid quo pro for the Blood Service. A group of donors in return for opening a little later.
Jasmine greets the reporter from the local paper as she walks through the door. Then she has a word with the man on the desk, signing everyone in. “Let’s get the photo done first,” she says. “While everyone is here.”
He disappears off and in a matter of minutes, the staff and the volunteers are milling together at one end of the room. The reporter has them ordered and posed in an instant. Photos are taken, then everyone scatters. Staff back to their posts, volunteers to their seats, waiting to be called. Jasmines hopes that with his photo taken the reporter heads off and she can get Ben away somehow without anyone noticing he hasn’t given blood. But those hopes are dashed as the man grabs a blood donation form himself. It puts paid to her idea of slipping Ben out the back.
The sign-in man is back at his desk. Jasmine leans forward, conspiratorially. “Can we get this one through first?” she asks and nods at Ben. His normal confidence is missing and he gives every appearance of being as nervous as the proverbial long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Some small part of Jasmine regards this as justifiable karma for kissing Lou in front of her. Although she realises Ben would never have done it, had he been aware she was there.
“Come on,” she says, carrying his water and leading him to the chairs. She waits beside him as he does his paperwork. When the nurse comes to collect him, she whispers, “Don’t look”, before he is led away.
