Page 6 of The Unlikely Pair

“I’ve been hearing rumblings about the proposed cuts to the local bus services,” my father says, his brow furrowed. “I suspect that’s going to be a contentious issue today.”

I nod, smoothing my tie, as I sit behind the desk.

The first constituents trickle in.

Mrs. Dunsbury arrives armed with a litany of complaints about the neighborhood’s overgrown hedges and the council’s apparent indifference to her plight. I make a mental note to discuss the matter with the local authorities.

A local farmer is concerned about the impact new environmental regulations might have on his livelihood, while a group of parents are worried about insufficient funding for the local school. I listen attentively, asking questions and offering reassurance where possible.

It’s late morning by the time I glance at my watch. If I don’t leave now, I will be hard-pressed to make my flight on time. I don’t want to arrive late to the conference and endure Toby Webley’s sniping at how I’m so arrogant that I think the world revolves around my schedule. I can already imagine the barbs about Tory entitlement he’ll toss my way, his lips curled in that infuriating smirk.

My father pokes his head into the room just as I finish my last meeting.

“We’ve had one constituent who is not on your list but is rather insistent about seeing you.”

“Who is it?”

“Dolores Hatfield.”

Dolores is a frequent visitor at my constituency surgeries. She’s a widow in her seventies with a sharp tongue and a penchant for long-winded anecdotes. I get the feeling sometimes she just craves any form of companionship.

I frown. “Didn’t we resolve her dispute with the council last month?”

“Yes, it was resolved. But she’s got some more issues she wants to talk about.”

“Will she speak with you instead?”

My father gives a wry smile. “I doubt it. It’s you she’s come to see.”

I cast another glance at my watch. “Send her in.”

Dolores bustles into the room, dressed in her Sunday best, her handbag clutched firmly in the crook of her arm. I rise to greet her, extending my hand and smiling politely.

“Hello, Dolores, how are you? I do hope this weather hasn’t been exacerbating your hip troubles.”

“I’ll tell you how I’ve been, young man. I’ve been absolutely beside myself with the state of things. The council’s been dragging their feet on the new community center, and don’t even get me started on the deplorable state of the library. And now they’re talking about cutting the bus services! How are we supposed to get around, I ask you? Not everyone can afford one of those fancy cars you drive, you know.”

I settle in my chair and lift my pen to take notes, resolutely pushing any thoughts about the ticking clock and a certain Labour MP’s derisive smirk out of my mind.

Chapter Three

Toby

Things To Do Today:

Read the report on Green Investment

Reply to constituent email about using giant space mirrors to reflect the sun’s rays to combat global warming—acknowledge the innovative thinking but point out the logistic and financial challenges of this solution