The Great Dane

Chapter 4

The conductor is in residence: directing her instruments as best she could, Aanya Patel is in control. Instead of fiddles, bassoons, violins or drums, her tools are people. Volunteers, passionate graduates and her close confidants, her campaign team are hard at work, despite the late hour. She looks around the office, proud of their effort and excited by the project's potential.

In a few weeks time, she'll be going head-to-head with local stalwart and veteran safe-seater Duncan Strourton-Linley MP in the latest General Election, called out of term because of some power-play or other. It was the culmination of an ambition born in university when she began to perceive the worst of society, especially for people with her background. Without the protection of her family and the bubble of school life, she started to see what the wider world really thought of her: born to immigrant parents, female, secondary-modern school educated, undesirable. Despite achieving Grade A* all the way, getting a scholarship to one of the top British universities and earning a First along the way, she never felt like she was appreciated or considered on the same level as her counterparts. Always a charity case, not even an equal, let alone a figure of admiration.

While she's classed as the 'smart local girl done good', her opponent is a private-schooled dinosaur who thinks that food banks are a glorious reminder of the wartime spirit. He's of the post-war generation, born after the conflict was safely over but happy to give the impression they fought in it. His condescending references to the "nice little Indian girl" on local news interviews irritated her beyond comprehension. He was the grown-up representation of those staid, antiquated institutions she studied in. She couldn't remember when she became driven by anger; perhaps she always was. One thing for sure was that she was driven. She wanted to get to the top and show everyone that she was legitimately the best.

Hannah Stone, her right-hand woman, approaches and passes her a file.

"Old school." Aanya remarks, seeing the paper documents.

"Aanya, the parents were in touch again. What do you want us to do?"

Pausing, Aanya fingers the file edge, scanning the title: Charlie Haywood.

"I think it can't hurt to meet them," Stone offers to fill the silence. "After all, it'll be part of the gig when we win."

"Very well." Aanya puffs out her cheeks. "I've already set up a meeting with my old friend to look into it. But I suppose I should show my face."

"Exactly. If your friend is as good as you say, it could be huge win locally.That would really give us a boost."

"Set it up. Let's go tomorrow morning, get it out of the way. It's tragic but clearly they can't let go. Pretty clear what happened."

"Yeah, I know. Suicide. Such a waste."

"Indeed. Did my friend actually confirm the lunch by the way?"

"No word yet. We'll chase."

"He might be a long shot. After what he's gone through. I should probably try Facebook or something rather than a letter."

"Yes, but it's better to keep it formal and public if we're going to pay him to get involved."

"If you say so. Meanwhile look for alternatives."

"Absolutely."

Thinking of the meeting, Aanya catches a glimpse of herself, wearing a sharp but conservative trouser suit and very much projecting. She briefly wonders when she might be able to dress in her more natural laidback style again. Politicians don't wear jeans, she repeats in her head and sighs internally. Life in the public eye. Snapping back to business, she turns to Hannah..

"Let's get the rest of the team together for 10am, before we go to the house, and doorstop the rest of the area."

"Sure."

Aanya looks around the office again and checks her watch. She felt a slight pang in her chest. All these people around her, but still she feels quite alone.

"Send everyone home. The next few weeks will be intense. Let's pace ourselves. And that includes you." She looks at Hannah, who nods.

"Gotcha. I'll get them all up and out."

Aanya's phone vibrates in her hand. She waves Hannah off and steps into her office, closing the door to take the call.