The Man Who Learned to Know Better

The minister put on his coat and finished the last of his coffee. He made a face. There was nothing wrong with the coffee. What bothered him was the upcoming media hubbub. There had been a bit too much of negative publicity around the health insurance lately. Some PR person had dreamed up the idea of a meeting with one of those lazy - hm - people on sick leave in front of a huge media posse. Maybe that would show the public how seriously his government took the reforms of the welfare chaos. In his opinion it was completely unnecessary and an outrageous waste of time, but now it had been decided and fortunately it shouldn't take more than about fifteen minutes or so, not counting the hopefully brief opportunity for questions afterwards.

His assistant fussed around him and was brushing away invisible or non-existent motes of dust on his coat collar. The minister began to walk faster. To his relief he noticed that the woman gave up and let him go. The press secretary joined him and together they approached the exit.

There she was, that person whose hand he was going to shake. He had to admit that she put on her show rather convincingly. Two other women, who looked very much like her, were supporting her. She was pale and her face was twisted somehow. Incredible what lengths they were prepared to go to, in order to live comfortably at the tax payers' expense. But her eyes - they were actually quite unpleasant. The gaze burned him and he swallowed nervously. Maybe mentally disturbed - but that wasn't any excuse not to pay one's own way. When he got closer he noticed that one of the women was quite a bit younger than the one they were supporting, and the other much older. Her mother and daughter, perhaps?

Time to get this nonsense out of the way. He took another step forward, smiled even more widely and sought out the cameras with his gaze, while he held out his hand in manner he thought looked friendly and open.

"How do you do? Hello. Anna, right?"

"Hanna."

The press secretary whispered loudly in his ear. The minister's smile faded a little.

"That's what I meant to say. Howdy, Hanna. Nice to meet you."

"Hi there."

She made an attempt to hold out her hand to him, but her arm fell down weakly by her side. Remarkable. A rather good looking woman of about forty. Shouldn't she herself want to work and pay her own way in life? The daughter glared at him from underneath a thick fringe of hair so black it definitely looked dyed. The mother was watching worriedly over her daughter and strengthened her grip on the daughter's other arm.
The minister grabbed the hand that was hanging limply and squeezed it. The woman began to say something, but he wasn't going to let this charade drag on any longer than it had to. He took a deep breath and prepared to speak loudly and clearly so that even the parts of the audience that were sitting at the back would hear him.

"You'll see that you'll be feeling better in no time once you get back to work. Thanks, everyone."

He was about to let go of the cool hand that was hanging limply in his grip, but suddenly she evidenced far greater strength than before. She held his hand so tightly his smile vanished entirely. Her eyes looked unnaturally big and he found it impossible to break eye contact.

"Very well, then. We'll switch. You get sick and I go back to work."

What was she really saying, that creature? No one else seemed to have heard anything and now her hand dropped out of his and she fell weakly backwards as if the meeting had used up her last strength. Her mother and sister were there to catch her, but she nearly fell anyway. Her face was so pale that the minister wondered briefly if she was going to fake a faint before the cameras. Speaking of fainting - suddenly the minister felt dizzy and he almost blacked out.