As soon as he reappears, Jasmine joins him. She keeps his focus on her and not the collection chairs. If the nurse who comes to collect them thinks Jasmine’s presence is odd, she makes no comment. She chatters away to Ben, clearly a little smitten, as she cleans his skin and preps for the donation. Ben revives a smidgen with the attention. Enough that the whole donation goes well. He is careful to look away before the nurse pushes the needle into his arm and he continues to look to the side until she returns when the bag-full alarm sounds.
It looks like they are home clear as Ben makes his way to the recovery area to munch his chocolate biscuit and slurp his orange squash. Lou walks up with a sultry smile and a suggestive, “Hiya.” Jasmine is relieved when she is quickly joined by Dave. Until Dave calls out, “Hey, Lou, you’re leaking!”
All eyes flick to Lou’s arm as the white bandage turns red under the roll. Jasmine sees Ben turn pale despite his dark colouring. He wilts. “Get me out of here!” he whispers to her. Personally, Jasmine thinks he should have his head between his knees not trying to stand.
Lou’s attention is distracted by the well-wishers telling her to press down with her fingers. Dave is fixated on Lou. Jasmine glances around. The reporter is being shepherded to a donation chair by the same pretty nurse who took Ben’s blood. She hauls him upright and helps him out of the door. Once outside, she roots around in his jean pocket for his car key, untroubled by inappropriate thoughts. She stuffs him in the passenger seat and pushes his head down.
“Are you going to be sick?” she asks.
“No.” The word is more a pant.
“Stay there.”
She makes her way back inside. Standing in the centre of the room, she raises her voice.
“I just wanted to thank everyone for coming to this blood drive and the remarkable staff who make it happen. We all go home tonight knowing we have made a difference. Give yourselves a clap!” As the applause rings out, she waves a goodbye and slides out the building.
Ben is recovering as she climbs behind the wheel and backs out of the parking space. Never once when she envisaged her role as a campaign manager had she foreseen nursemaid. She drives back to Hayburn, pondering how healthy can a relationship be, if it requires a person to hide their weaknesses? But Jasmine’s sanctimony is cut short when she remembers she didn’t know about Ben’s aversion to blood either, and she had once thought she knew everything about him.
Mr Smith
Two more successful village Town Halls, relentless canvassing and a whirlwind schedule of appearances for Ben, and Jasmine can feel the tide turning. Less than a week to go and she has the biggest event yet. The Leader of the Opposition is coming to town. Everyone is keen to meet the person who may well be the Prime Minister next year. If this were the General Election, the chance of getting someone of the Leader’s stature in a place like Hayburn would be tiny. But this is a by-election. Only Hayburn in all of the country is going to the polls and Labour can throw some might behind their candidate.
It’s a great day for the visit, a Saturday. Their schedule includes the local hospital, the biggest shopping centre in the district and a football match in the afternoon. In the evening is a function for the local Labour activists and councillors, designed both to thank and to invigorate for the last push. An entire day of the Leader’s time is solid gold, an almost unthinkable boost. Jasmine prays no unforeseen crisis derails the planned visit.
The closer they get to voting day, the more work Jasmine has. She has often been tempted to sleep under her desk to save the walk back to her apartment but has forced herself, drooping with weariness, to make the journey. She eats at her desk and blesses Agnes every day for the easy-care hair style that allows her to wash it and go.
Today, she was up at dawn even though she didn’t make it to bed until midnight. She puts on her best charcoal trouser suit and a bright red top – Labour’s colour. She has binned anything blue in her wardrobe in case she wears it accidentally. She can only imagine the derision if she is photographed looking like a Tory supporter standing next to Ben, or worse, the Leader.
Jasmine and Ben are in his office sorting last-minute crises by phone and email when Dave knocks on the door.
“Um,” he starts, obviously hesitant to disturb them. “That woman is back again.”
Ben glances up, his words sharp. “What woman?”
“The one with the two kids?” Dave prompts. Then adds, “Pretty, blonde.” As if it is more likely to jog Ben’s memory.
“Natasha?” Jasmine asks.
“I didn’t ask her name. Do you want me to go back and get it?”
“No,” says Jasmine, fairly sure it is Natasha. How many other women with two kids does she know? But she cannot understand why the little family might be here again, now they are safe in the refuge. Maybe it is to thank them. If so, better to get her in and out as quickly as possible. “Bring her in.”
Ben shoots her an impatient look. A look which says,We don’t have time for this. But it is too late. Dave has withdrawn his head and reappears pretty quickly with the little family – mother, toddler, baby, stuffed lion.
One glance at Natasha is enough to end any notion she is here to thank them. She is in tears. Her clothing is crumpled and she has bags under her eyes. She looks in a worse state now than she was for her first visit.
“I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.” She collapses into the chair Jasmine has just vacated, baby on her lap, toddler between her legs. “We’ve spent the night on a bench in the park.”
“Why?” Jasmine crouches down and tilts her head to look at Natasha’s face but the woman has her hands up. Ben passes her a handkerchief and she takes a second to look at him curiously. Who under fifty carries a handkerchief? But she takes the scrap of cloth and gently presses it into Natasha’s hands. Softly, she prompts, “Tell us what happened.”
“He found us! He found the refuge. They wanted to call the police but I told them,He is the police!” Natasha’s voice falters as a fresh wave of tears takes over, and Jasmine stands and looks at Ben. The enormity of this complication is not lost on either of them. Neither is the urgency of dealing with the problem before the Leader arrives.
Jasmine crouches down again. “Natasha, what does Adam do with the police?”
“He’s an inspector.” She sniffs out.
Jasmine puffs out a breath and looks back up at Ben. He shakes his head in dismay. He has no ideas either.
