Polls Apart (5 page)

Anna smiled. She felt relaxed for the first time in as long as she could remember. Sitting there in Libby’s large but well-worn kitchen – which summed up the rest of the house – she felt hugely proud of her big sister. “You do such a great job, Libby. I was sitting here watching you and wondering how such a good mother could come from such a bad one.”

“Mum was mentally ill. There was never any chance of her being a good mother.”

“You always did defend her. You’re much more forgiving than I am.”

“That’s because I’ve less to forgive,” Libby gave her sister a long and knowing look and as Anna returned her gaze, safe in the kindness and love of someone who knew her like no one else, she knew she had come to the right place. Libby had protected her through some of the darkest days of their childhood. Anna often wondered if she’d have ever made it this far without her sister. Surely the burden of her youth would have been too much to carry alone.

“I’ve been wondering these last few days why we never got counselling?” Anna asked.

“Well,” Libby shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “When we left Wellinghurst we agreed we’d put it behind us – separate ourselves from our past and start again. I think that’s the only way, don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Anna shook her head. “I thought I had put it behind me, but it’s back again.”

“Put it out of your mind,” Libby said abruptly. “I’m going to make myself another coffee. Do you want one?”

“Okay,” Anna replied, struggling to hide her disappointment that her sister had shut the conversation down.

Libby had only just got to her feet when the doorbell rang. The sisters looked at each other with wide eyes as their minds quickly sifted through the possibilities of who it could be.

“I’ll take a look through the peek hole,” Libby said before tiptoeing out into the hallway, only to return a few seconds later. “There’s a chubby red-headed woman with black-rimmed glasses on the doorstep who looks very familiar.”

“Oh.” Anna leapt up and headed for the hallway. “That’s Joy, my
PR
agent.”

Anna quickly opened the front door, checking behind Joy to see if any press had found where she was staying.

“Don’t worry,” said Joy, kissing Anna on the cheek. “No one knows you’re here, although I’m sure they’ll work it out soon enough.”

Anna ushered Joy in and showed her through to the kitchen where Libby was busy making the coffee. “I’d better make it three cups then,” she said smiling, then reached out to shake Joy’s hand. “I’m sure we’ve met before though I can’t remember where.”

“Yes,” Joy replied, eyes squinting while she tried to figure it out. “I think it might have been a couple of Christmases ago at one of Anna and Richard’s drinks bashes.”

“That’ll be it,” Libby agreed. “That was probably the last one they invited me to after I slipped in their kitchen and ended up with my skirt over my head.” Libby laughed unselfconsciously at her own joke as she handed out the cups of coffee and guided the women over to the kitchen table.

Joy laid her huge Mulberry holdall on the floor and proceeded to pull out that morning’s papers. “Here is the news,” she said, in classic newsreader tone, slapping the papers down on the table.

Anna immediately seized a copy of a tabloid, which she held close to her face, studying its front page. “The man has no shame,” she said, throwing the paper over towards her sister.

Libby looked at the main image and headline and realised immediately why Anna was so upset. There, in full colour and taking up a quarter of the front page, was a picture of Richard, head thrown back and laughing raucously with his colleagues in a restaurant.

“Look at him living it up with Bob and Ray while I’m hidden away like some kind of scarlet woman.” Anna jabbed her finger at the picture while Libby nodded vigorously to show her support.

“For what it’s worth, Henry says Richard’s mortified by that photo. He said it was the one time he cracked a smile all evening,” Joy piped in.

“Yeah right,” sneered Anna. “He looks just devastated doesn’t he. Well, he doesn’t hold all the cards you know.”

“What do you mean?” Joy asked.

“I mean I’ve got about fifty messages on my mobile phone from newspaper editors and reporters asking me to call them. And I’ve just decided it’s time to make that call.”

“To who?” Joy asked again.

“To the
Sunday Echo
.” Anna reached onto the kitchen surface behind her and grabbed her mobile phone.

“Look Anna, don’t do anything rash,” Joy said, her face flushed with something that looked to Libby like panic. “Let’s just talk this one over and decide if it’s the right thing to do.”

“I’ve thought it over,” Anna said sharply. “I’m not having them run ten more pages of shit this weekend if there’s a chance I can actually get the truth out there instead. You don’t actually think I’m going to sit back and let the media paint me as some cheap whore who slept her way to the top when I’ve had to fight for every little scrap of success that’s ever come my way.”

Joy opened her mouth to speak but Anna fixed her with a look that said “don’t even try to dissuade me”, so she shrugged in defeat. “You’ve obviously made your mind up, Anna. Maybe Henry was right to say a showbiz
PR
like me doesn’t get the bigger picture – certainly none of you seem willing to listen to me any more. But I’ve been in this game a long time and I can tell you the one thing I know: the media is like a pack of hungry dogs, and if you feed them a juicy bone they will never leave you alone.”

“I think her message is clear,” Libby said, suddenly cutting in. “She’s been spat out by Richard like a piece of gristle when, in actual fact, she’s the one person in this entire situation that has some integrity. Soon the public’s going to see that and Richard, and your husband, are going to have a bit of explaining to do.” Libby arched her eyebrow defiantly before flashing Joy a forced smile.

Once again, Anna found herself caught in the middle between her old friend, Joy, and someone she loved and didn’t want to betray. She knew Joy was only trying to help, but she was so entwined with Henry – and Richard – that it just didn’t seem right that she should be involved right now. So instead Anna sat silently and watched Joy collect her bag and jacket and make her excuses to leave. She could tell Joy felt humiliated – as she had when Henry shot her suggestions down at the house the previous weekend.

Anna wanted to stand up and tell her not to be so silly and to stay; that they were all on the same side really. But it was too late. She had to stay loyal to the one person she had ever really needed. Someone who would fight to the last to protect her: Libby.

W
ednesday, 1
st April,
2009
, UK Newswire – The Prime Minister today branded Social Democrat leader Richard Williams “merciless” for announcing a separation from his wife over claims she had previously worked as an escort girl.

Kelvin Davis said Williams had treated Anna Lloyd “like a disposable commodity that had ceased to suit his carefully-manufactured image” and called on the opposition leader to publicly apologise to the actress for his actions.

Speaking to the
BBC
’s
For the Record
programme, Davis said: “I feel sickened by the merciless way in which Williams has treated Anna who, let’s not forget, is a much respected actress who the people of this country have a great deal of affection for.

“It is just a pity that Williams doesn’t seem to share that respect or affection. What we’re looking at here is a man who is willing to cast off his own wife for political gain, which, in my mind, is sickening.”

Davis was speaking after a new poll carried out on behalf of the
Today
newspaper revealed a sharp fall in support for the
SDP
leader in the wake of his marital separation.

Meanwhile, it was reported in two tabloid papers that Lloyd is set to tell her side of the story in an interview with the
Sunday Echo
, to be published this weekend.

Social Democrat sources admitted there was a great deal of anxiety over Lloyd’s decision to speak out. The actress is said to be both furious and deeply humiliated by Williams’ treatment of her and party officials fear that an unfavourable account of their marriage could seriously damage the Democrats’ chances of election victory next month.

Kelvin paused momentarily to button his suit jacket before stepping out into the corridors of Number
10
where he was shortly due to carry out a meet-and-greet with charity bosses. In the few moments he had been left alone in his office he made sure, as usual before public appearances, that he combed a little more styling product through his hair. He was meticulous about his appearance and had once sacked an advisor who accompanied him on a press trip for not telling him his hair had ruffled at the back and was standing on end. For major appearances he employed the services of a grooming assistant who was allowed to apply increasing amounts of liquid concealer, powder and rouge to his face to avoid negative comments in the press about his “flamboyant lifestyle taking its toll” as they liked to describe it, much to his irritation. Being a single Prime Minister brought both unique perks and problems.

As he stepped out into the corridors of Number
10
he was flanked, as usual, by both his press secretary, Reggie Winecroft, and
PA
, Vanessa Mellor. Reggie was in buoyant mood because it was he who had suggested Kelvin publicly side with Anna, and today’s poll had proved him right. “I think you should call Anna Lloyd today,” Reggie gushed.

Kelvin chuckled at his press aide’s complete inability to suppress his campness when he got excited. Although open about his sexuality, Reggie had always tried to butch up for political life – a veneer that slipped within seconds of hearing the slightest bit of good news, at which point his hands would begin to flap and he would become breathless with the pace of his own speech.

Kelvin weighed up Reggie’s suggestion before answering. “Don’t you think that’s taking things a bit far? This is the sort of situation in which one little error of judgment can set the whole scale of opinion tipping the other way.”

“A personal situation needs a personal touch, Kelvin,” Reggie replied using a schoolmarmish tone. “We can keep this very low key. Just a five-minute call from you to tell her you hope she’s coping in such difficult times. We won’t send out any statements or anything; we could just offer it to Today as a leak. We owe them one after the
Echo
exclusive last week anyway.”

“All right,” Kelvin sighed as they approached the reception room. His mind had already moved on to the forty or so guests he was going to have to meet and mingle with. This was most certainly the one part of the job Kelvin least liked. And opening the door to the room his heart fell further as he realised there was not a single celebrity or attractive female in sight.

Anna thought Marie looked a good deal younger than she had sounded on the telephone the day before. Based on their brief conversation to set up a time for the interview, Anna had placed Marie in her early forties but that was based mainly on the mature tone of her voice and crisp southern English accent. She had been assertive but polite – the latter not being typical of all journalists in Anna’s experience. Standing on her sister’s doorstep, Anna could see the reporter was probably not even thirty yet, and was only a slip of a thing, her small height topped up a couple of inches by her boyishly spiky black hair. She thought she would hate the pushy hack who’d steamrollered her into an interview, but looking at the little pixie-like thing in front of her, Anna couldn’t help but feel something close to affection. She just looked so sweet.

“You’d better let me in quick,” Marie said, waving Anna back. “I saw a couple of photographers at the top of the road looking for the house and they’re not with me.”

“My
PR
agent said they’d be on to me soon enough,” Anna replied, closing the door quickly. “Come through to the kitchen.”

Marie trotted along the wooden hallway behind Anna until they reached the big open-plan kitchen.

“Did you say this is your sister’s home?” Marie asked.

“Yes,” Anna nodded.

“What a lovely family kitchen,” the reporter said, her eyes misting with nostalgia as she looked around. Anna watched Marie as she studied the scruffy floors and furnishings and knew she had already identified Libby’s home as one belonging to a loving and secure family who cared little about belongings and superficial gloss.

“I’m really enjoying spending time here,” Anna said, alarming herself slightly at how quickly she was opening up. “My sister, Libby, is out shopping just now but she’ll be back later.”

“Great. It would be nice to meet her,” Marie said as she rifled through her bag looking for her voice recorder. “I’ve got a photographer coming later, if that’s still okay?”

“Yes, that’s fine.”

Marie had offered Anna the opportunity to come in to the
Echo
’s photographic studio for the shoot, but Anna had asked that they keep it low-key and just take a couple of shots in the garden. She hated that she had to attach her photo to this interview – just which facial expression was she supposed to use in this situation? Meek smile? Bereft, heartbroken and wounded pout? But she knew the rules of the game by now and there was no way around it.

Once Anna had fetched Marie a coffee, and the reporter had set up her voice recorder, the two women were ready to begin the interview. Anna had rehearsed with Libby what she wanted to get across. Her sister had told her not to sound too bitter and not to get personal in attacking others as that might alienate people who had previously taken her side. She had agreed she would talk only fleetingly about her childhood and not mention the most difficult time – the shared secret that had been with the two of them since their teens. They both felt the burden of it every day, but while Libby had pretty much made peace with her past, for Anna it had become a black cloud that followed her wherever she went.

Sitting at the kitchen table that sunny spring morning, Anna saw that cloud for what it was: a hazardous mix of hurt and anger and shame that had been growing inside since her youth and which was just waiting to explode.

Marie took a deep breath before launching into her first question. Starting an interview as big as this one felt like tiptoeing towards the edge of a diving board and forcing yourself to step off. She had spent several hours preparing for this, the exclusive that could make or break her. And she knew all too well that if she started on the wrong foot, she could spend the rest of the interview paying for it. So Marie called on the outer confidence she used so convincingly to mask the inner nervous wreck that she actually felt.

“Do you feel your marriage to Richard is a happy one?” she asked, almost wanting to cross her fingers as the final word left her mouth. Earlier that day she had tried to rephrase her opening question several times, but in the end decided just to ask it outright. Marie prayed Anna would not tense up or dismiss her. They only had one hour together so every question had to count.

Marie relaxed as soon as she saw the reflective smile spread across Anna’s face.

“I certainly thought we were happy,” she began. “The Richard I married six years ago was a very kind man, driven by his desire to improve the lives of others. Until I met him, I was a very inward-looking person. But almost as soon as we started talking I knew I had met someone who I would admire and learn from; someone who genuinely wanted to change the lives of others for the better. That was tremendously attractive to me.”

“What were the early years of your marriage like?” Marie shot the question out like a bullet, afraid that to linger over any word would give Anna time to close the shutters on her life which, for now, seemed wide open.

“There was a lot of storming and forming in the first couple of years,” Anna chuckled. “Richard and I are both stubborn people with very strong opinions, so that could cause a lot of tension between us. But in the main we were really happy. We were very in love and very committed as a couple and that kept us going through the bad times.”

“And what were the bad times?” Marie looked up from her notepad, making sure she could catch any change in emotions from Anna.

“Just times when the past would catch up with me, in particular the death of my mother which I still struggle with sometimes,” Anna sighed. “My relationship with her hadn’t been easy so my grief can be all the more intense because it’s fuelled by rage. I often took that anger out on Richard. But he was strong and he never cracked under the pressure. He knew I needed to work the pain out of my system and he gave me space and time. A lot of men wouldn’t do that.”

“Where do you think things started to go wrong?”

Anna slowly took a sip of coffee while she thought through her answer. As Marie watched, she realised this was a question the actress had not yet posed to herself.

“I think… looking back, things changed a little when he became party leader. The pressure was higher, he started to become much more aware of public perception. Suddenly, if I decided to wear a revealing outfit for a shoot, that became a party issue, rather than my own personal decision. Increasingly I was expected to seek approval before accepting work and that caused a lot of tension between us.”

“Did Richard know about your past work as an escort girl?”

“Yes he did,” Anna replied matter-of-factly. “But when I first met Richard he didn’t see a former escort girl in me, he saw someone who had been failed by her mother and by the government under which I grew up. I was the very kind of person who Richard wanted to fight for. What happened to me in my youth made him so angry – and I loved him so much for it. Richard loathes injustice, which is why I still find it so hard to believe that when I needed him most, he turned his back on me. That’s not the Richard I know. That’s Richard the political machine and not Richard the man.”

Marie shifted in her seat slightly, her heart rate quickening as her mind signalled a major story ahead.

“What was it that happened to you that made Richard so angry?”

“I was abused by my stepfather.”

Marie fought desperately to hold Anna’s sustained eye contact so as to conceal her shock at what her interviewee had just revealed. She had to maintain Anna’s trust or the actress could shut down at any moment.

“Was it verbal or physical abuse?”

“It was verbal, physical, sexual, you name it. We got it.”

“We?”

“Me and my sister, Libby.”

“Where was your mother when this happened?”

“Out of it.”

“How long did this go on for?”

“Five years, four months and fifteen days.”

“And how did it stop?”

“We killed him.”

Anna regretted her confession the second after she told Libby what she had said. Her sister had bustled in from the supermarket just minutes after Marie left with the photographer, and had been happily setting about putting the shopping away when Anna reached out and touched her arm. “I told her, Libby.”

“Told her what?” Libby turned to face her sister, her eyes wide as she clutched a tin of baked beans she was about to place in the cupboard.

“That we killed him.”

“How could you do that, Anna?” Libby’s head was tilted like a confused child’s, all her adult mannerisms stripped away by the revelation. She turned away from Anna and clutched on to the edges of the kitchen surface for support. “What am I supposed to do now? Did you think about that? Did you think about what would happen to my children when their friends find out? No one will want to play with them because their mother is a killer. We’ll be social pariahs.”

“No Libby.” Anna moved forwards to comfort her sister, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder which was abruptly pushed away as Libby turned back to face her.

“You get the hell out of this house, Anna. You’ve just ruined my life in two selfish fucking hours. You’ll get wall-to-wall publicity for this, but what about me? I have a family. This isn’t a game for me.”

Tears started to stream down Libby’s face and she gathered her arms to her waist in an attempt to console herself. “We swore we’d never tell anyone what happened,” she sobbed. “We left our past behind the day we left Wellinghurst. Now some shabby little tabloid is going to tell the world.” Libby shook her head and jabbed her finger towards the front door. “You go now, Anna. Go.”