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“Road closures will also need to occur on election night. We will map your route. At this stage, we have you positioned at the Four Seasons Hotel from late afternoon until the announcement. Upon leaving the hotel, you will have a police escort down President Street, through the city, to home.”
“That all sounds fine. Eddie will increase our personal security, making sure that everyone here and our close friends and families are managed. We will fall into line with whatever you suggest in terms of enhanced police presence and any access you need to me or the team or our venue prior will be granted as you need it. Safety of everyone is most important,” I say, the Police Chief looking relieved to have all his suggestions approved, but I am not taking any risks. Everyone's safety is paramount. I stand, shaking his hand, and the team and I leave, needing to get to our luncheon, the final one before the elections.
* * *
We arrive at the restaurant,and I am immediately swept up in back slaps and handshakes as Beth chats with the venue manager to ensure the luncheon is on track. People are laughing and smiling and although the election has not happened, everyone is feeling confident. Including me.
“Harrison darling, how are you feeling? There are only days to go!” My mother’s voice sweeps across the room, positioning her as a loving, doting mother. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tennyson roll his eyes before heading to the bar. While Ben and Eddie watch her flow across the room to me, commanding everyone's attention as her gold bracelets jingle on her arms and her tweed Chanel suit fits her to perfection.
“Mother,” I say in acknowledgement and kiss the air near her cheek. As I do, I look around for Beth, and see her talking to Arthur across the room.
“Come, everyone, let’s take our seats,” my mother says, sweeping her gaze around the room, and everyone finds their spot. My mother sits next to me, with Eddie on my other side. Lilly is sitting directly across from me, gazing at me with a smile of longing that I wish she would erase. Beth sits with Arthur and Tennyson down on one end, the three of them laughing and carrying on, making everyone else jealous at the fun they are obviously having. But I smile as I watch them. She looks so good happy.
After everyone has enjoyed their meal, I stand and clink my glass to get their attention.
“Everyone, I would like to take this opportunity to thank each and every one of you for your ongoing support, pledges, for your guidance, your counsel, your time, your connections. With the election fast approaching, my team and I will be busy, seeing more and more of the people, and promoting our campaign ready for Saturday,” I say, and a few cheers go up in the crowd.
“I am confident with all of you at my side, that I will walk away with a new job on Saturday, with new responsibilities, and I know I can count on all your support then as well. It means the world to have you here and…” I stop as I look at Doctor Warner. His face is red, and he is struggling to breathe.
“Dr Warner?” I ask, and everyone looks at him.
“Oh my god!” my mother exclaims, clutching her pearls, and I see Beth push her chair back and run to him.
“Doctor Warner. Do you have an EpiPen?” she asks, seemingly already knowing what is going on and what needs to be done as the rest of us sit back, watching her, some still sipping their champagne like this is their entertainment.
He pulls it from his pocket as he slides off the chair onto the floor.
“Shit,” I say, finally springing into action as I run over and grab him under the arms, laying him on the floor as Beth grabs the EpiPen.
“Okay, here it goes,” she says before she stabs him hard in the thigh. I hear my mother gasp again, Lilly standing behind her, comforting her as the rest of the crowd looks on. My eyes meet with Beth’s over the top of Doctor Warner, and I know we are thinking the same thing.
“Oscar, call 911,” I bark, knowing he needs the paramedics.
“Already done, they are here now,” he says as I see a team walking into the restaurant.
“Let’s clear the room, people. Paramedics are here,” the venue manager says, pushing the doors wide and moving people out of the way as a team of paramedics walk in with a stretcher. Beth and I step back and watch as they take his vitals. I watch with concern, but he is already looking better, sitting up gradually and talking to them coherently. He is breathing well, and I see Beth talking to one of the paramedics, giving him a rundown as is the venue manager. Then he's loaded onto the stretcher and taken away.
My guests are gathering their things, some already have left, and I look at Beth, trying to understand from her what happened.
“What meal did you serve him?” my mother demands from beside me, looking at Beth with venom, and everyone stops talking and watches the exchange.
“His dietary requirements were noted upon confirmation of the event. I will need to investigate...” Beth says, still looking like she is in shock.
But my mother won't let her finish.
“Obviously, you are totally incompetent! You nearly killed the man! And with only days to go until the election. You have probably ruined any chance of Harrison becoming governor, you stupid, stupid girl,” my mother spits.
“Mother. That is enough!” I grit out to her, not liking where she is going with this and not liking how public it is.
“Okay, everyone, I think we will wrap it up now. Thanks for your support, and we look forward to seeing you at the election party on Saturday night,” Oscar says as he and Eddie start corralling our guests out the door. The luncheon is now dead in the water. My nerves are frayed, I’m concerned that this will affect the polls, and as I look to Oscar for reassurance, I don’t get it. His pursed lips and side-eye tell me all I need to know.
“Harrison, I knew the moment you hired this girl, she was trouble. Now she has ruined everything,” my mother pushes, agitating me even more.
“Mother, I said enough!” I bark as I try to gather my thoughts. I run my hands through my hair and watch as the last guests leave, shaking their hands and plastering a fake smile on my face to reassure them that everything is fine when I don’t even believe it myself. Beth is a professional; I know this is not something she simply missed. She hasn’t been herself for a few weeks, but still, there has to be another explanation.
“Harrison, I checked the dietaries twice, his meal was correct,” she says, looking at me, her eyes pleading with me to believe her. And I do.
“Harrison, don't be a fool. She is probably working for your competition. Did they pay you to create a spectacle so they would win? You need the money, right? You live in Riverside, don’t you?” my mother seethes, like being working class is the devil's work.
