A Plummet in the Polls

by Alana Ling

  Mum had been bitten by a dog in her youth, creating a lifelong fear of man’s best friend.

  ‘Mmm, it smells nice. What are you baking?’ she asked, leading herself to the back, to my kitchen, with Alfie following suit.

  ‘Muffins for Devi. They’ll be ready in a sec, take a seat. Coffee?’

  Mum sat down at my dining table and Alfie sat opposite her, watching her, his tongue sagging at the side.

  I got my ibrik out, threw a couple of spoonfuls of Greek Arabica into it and put it on the stovetop to brew. Mum stretched her hand and patted Alfie’s head a couple of times. He tried to lick her, but she pulled her hand back to the safety of her bosom before he got the chance.

  Taking the muffins out of the oven and letting them cool, I retrieved a couple of espresso cups from my cupboard, poured the Greek coffee and sat down to accompany her.

  ‘What brings you here, Miss Effie,’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, can’t your mother come and visit now?’

  ‘What have you done?’ I asked her. She always got defensive when she’d done something wrong.

  She squinted and crossed her legs. ‘What do you mean what have I done?’

  Alfie tried to get another pat from Mum, so I decided to distract him and got one of his treats, which he carried into the living room, leaving us alone.

  Mum blew on her cup and then slurped her coffee. ‘I feel terrible,’ she finally said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well,’ she started, ‘this whole deal with Preston.’ I blew out and stretched my shoulders ready for retaliation. ‘I can’t believe I took his side and he turned out…and he turned out to be such...I wanted to apologise,’ she said.

  I was speechless. My mother, the Greek menace that couldn’t keep out of anyone’s life, especially mine, was sitting in front of me apologising for her behaviour. This was uncharted territory.

  ‘I wish I’d listened to you. I just thought…I don’t know what I thought but I’m sorry,’ she said.

  ‘It’s okay, Mum.’

  I still didn’t know what to say to her. She was Preston’s number one fan and for her to make a one-eighty and change her spiel was a big step forward and I didn’t want to ruin it by saying the wrong thing, despite wanting to really milk this moment. How often do you see your mother apologising for her wrong-doings, anyway?

  ‘I should have taken your side. It was rude of me not to,’ she said.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs. Effie,’ I said. ‘You’re finally speaking reason.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t be silly. I always speak reason.’

  It was my turn to roll my eyes. She shushed me, as if my eye-rolling was too loud for her, and she grabbed my saucer. She lifted the cup and looked inside at the symbols and shapes made out of coffee grounds.

  ‘Why don’t you ever read me your coffee fortune?’ I asked her.

  Alfie approached Effie and sniffed the air as close to her as possible.

  ‘Joanna, don’t be cheeky. That’s private, of course,’ she replied.

  ‘And mine isn’t?’ I blew air out of my nostrils. I couldn’t believe her cheek.

  She didn’t reply.

  I grabbed her cup and looked in it. She put mine down and tried to reach across the table to get it back, repeating my name as if it would have any effect.

  ‘I see a lot of secrets in thy cup, milady. Thou shalt not keep them from your daughter, or she might suffer from a broken heart,’ I said in my best queen’s accent.

  Effie got up, slapped my hand and took her cup away from me. ‘That is so rude, Joanna. You can’t even read the coffee cup.’

  ‘And you can?’ I said, but bit my tongue straightaway. I might not have believed in the supernatural, but her coffee fortunes always came true and I didn’t want to anger whatever spirits were helping her, or even worse, anger her.

  She shrieked, put her hand on her chest and her other hand on her forehead.

  ‘I didn’t mean that,’ I said.

  She shook her head. ‘You didn’t mean that? Of course you meant that. You’re trying to break your mother’s heart.’ She closed both eyes.

  ‘You’re such a dr—,’ I started to say but she opened one eye and peaked into my cup.

  ‘You’d better be careful, my baby. There’s a big black cloud over your head,’ she said.

  ‘Okay, Mum.’

  She put it down and her hands by her side. ‘Fine. Don’t believe me. I better go.’

  ‘I’ve got to get going too. I’m meeting Sam to go over the details for Saturday,’ I said and got up.

  I pulled a plastic container from my cupboard and put the whole dozen muffins inside after glazing them with lemon. I sealed the box and passed it to her.

  Mum pursed her lips. ‘It wouldn’t hurt you to be a little more like Samantha, you know. Such a nice girl. And she always brings a smile. And she’s never rude to me.’

  I paused. ‘What do you mean she always bring a smile? Where does she bring it?’

  ‘Well, when she visits me of course. We have coffee almost every day,’ Effie said and dashed off, leaving me with my mouth gaping.

  Four

  The next morning, I woke up at seven and baked another cake. Effie had a sweet tooth and so did her crochet group, so I was happy to let her and her friends indulge.

  I headed out just short of nine and walked all the way up to City Hall, situated off the high street and right before Emerald Park.

  The building was new, especially considering the historicity of the country, and so was the rest of the town, which was built in the sixties as a holiday resort for the rich and famous, but the architect had wanted to give the most important building in Haven a classic style, so he had gone for an art deco feel with sharp edges, ornamental finishes and geometric symmetry that was characteristic of the short-lived American movement.

  I walked through the reception and let myself into the ballroom. When there wasn’t a gala on, which was most of the time, it was used as a meeting room for the important people that passed through town, and as a hireable space for weddings and civil services. Today it was inundated with interior designers, about a dozen of them, who I had briefed individually despite them all being handled by their project manager.

  Althea hailed me from the centre and I waded through ladders and boxes to meet her warm embrace.

  ‘How are you, Joanna, my dear?’ I barely nodded before she continued. ‘What’s this divine smell? Is it one of your sinful cakes?’

  I chuckled. ‘Well, I don’t know about sinful, but they’ve got their fair share of sugar. And yes. I’ve brought you and Harold some Earl Grey muffins.’

  She clasped her hands to her heart, tugging her top and heart-shaped pendant closely. ‘Oh, you shouldn’t have.’

  She grabbed the box without hesitation and took the lid off. ‘Oh, they look gorgeous.’

  ‘Mum has a tray too, so you’re in for quite the overdose,’ I said.

  Her face turned sinister and her brows sank. ‘Do you still believe your mother’s lies? The group never sees an inch of cake. We haven’t in months, as a matter of fact.’

  Her sudden scowl threw me and it took me a moment longer to understand what she was saying.

  ‘She’s eating all those cakes herself?’

  Althea winked at me and her face relaxed. A smile crept up her face. ‘Either that or she has…how shall I say this? A friend to share with?’ She seemed satisfied with her word choice as she nodded to herself.

  I laughed. A loud scratching noise drew my attention to two men pushing some of the decorative trees to the side. I watched them for a moment longer and then another man and a woman joined them in pushing more of the trees to the end of the room.

  ‘Excuse me, Althea,’ I said and took off in their direction.

  ‘No problem, my darling. I’ll go and put this in the fridge while you do your thing. See you later.’

  As if she was going to put it in the fridge without having a taste first. I chuckled right b
efore I got to the ensemble of designers.

  ‘Excuse me,’ I said. ‘Why are you pushing the trees against the wall? They’re supposed to be dotted around the room just like the tables. We spoke about this.’

  The woman, who was the lead designer’s second in command, wiped her forehead and came closer to me.

  ‘Hi, Mrs. Christie. I know what we said, but we were told they needed to be out of the way.’

  ‘Miss. Please!’ I said, even though being given any sort of title made my eye twitch. ‘And who told you that?’

  The woman pointed at a figure at the other end of the room, who was talking to another designer. As I approached Nina, Harold’s secretary, I realised she was actually stroking the man’s hand while showing him something on the clipboard.

  ‘Nina, are you busy?’ I asked.

  She jumped, and then looked at me and smiled. She tasted of spaghetti Bolognese and my stomach craved for lunch.

  ‘Always time for you, love,’ she said and excused herself from the designer, who winked at her.

  ‘Making friends I see,’ I said, drawing her away from the man.

  ‘I like friends. His aura was attractive.’ She hummed.

  ‘Sure, it was his aura you were attracted to.’ I elbowed her. ‘Nina, why are you telling the designers they need to place all the trees in the corner? I thought we’d all agreed to the forest feel.’

  Nina raised her eyebrows and sighed. ‘Arthur’s orders. He’s saying people will keep bumping into trees instead of humans and that the theme is quite girly for a mayor’s event.’

  My mouth dropped. ‘Is he—is he drunk?’

  ‘And girly is not the word he used,’ Nina added.

  ‘Yeah, I figured. Well, he can’t just change stuff we’ve had agreed for months last minute.’

  ‘And that’s not the only request,’ Nina said.

  I cocked my head and took a deep breath. ‘What else does he want?’

  Nina didn’t reply. She passed me the clipboard she was holding and bit her lip.

  A numbered list that took up the entire page greeted me. I didn’t even read more than a couple of bullet points.

  ‘Guys,’ I shouted around the room. ‘Don’t move anything else until I say so. I’ll be right back. Let me sort this mess.’ I stormed out.

  Nina followed closely behind me.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind. I don’t want to miss this,’ she said and I squeezed in a smile between short breaths.

  I knocked on Arthur’s door, his name embossed in golden letters in the middle of it. No response came through. I knocked again. We could both hear conversation on the other side, but nothing clear. Nina rolled her eyes.

  ‘He must be busy with his secretary. Knock again,’ she said.

  I had to control myself to not burst out laughing. ‘How do you feel now that he’s going to be your boss?’ I joked.

  ‘Darling, even if he wanted to have me, which he doesn’t, I would rather quit than be his secretary.’

  I knocked again.

  ‘Oh, come in, for heaven’s sake,’ someone shouted.

  I braced myself and opened the door.

  Arthur was sitting at his desk, his chamomile permeating my taste receptors. His secretary, a woman with a strong burger note, was standing on the other side and Sylvester, one of the other MPs of the party, who tasted of ginger, was supporting himself on the window ledge. All their flavours were battling for attention.

  The room, just like its owner, had no touch of personal character, but a whole lot of relic. Leather-bound books that looked older than the Bible decorated the row of bookcases from top to bottom. An old-fashioned carpet that had seen more than its fair share of wear-and-tear encompassed the floor and furniture as old as my mother and with none of the charm stood in the middle. A musty waft penetrated my nose, combined with the taste of chamomile and made the bile climb to my throat, threatening to escape.

  ‘What do you want? I’m having a very important meeting,’ Arthur declared. Sylvester behind him gave him a side glance.

  ‘I was hoping to speak to you about the gala, actually,’ I said. There was no point apologising. He knew I would not tolerate his changes. He had tried too many times in the last couple of months, even if indirectly through Harold.

  ‘What of it? Nora has my requests. Just go through them and make the necessary adjustments,’ he said, dismissing me with his hand.

  ‘Nina has given me your adjustments and I don’t understand why most of these points are in here. Move the trees to the wall, cancel all the Asian dishes, change the speech timings around, send cancellations to the Unified Green Party. I’m sorry, Arthur, but the gala is tomorrow and these decisions have been made and signed off by Harold months ago. We can’t just change our entire event on a whim.’

  Nina put her hand on the small of my back and it reminded me to straighten it. I was shaking and my voice was coming out broken. But I was doing my best not to shout at him.

  ‘Of course we can. You’re being paid thousands of pounds, you need to sort it out,’ Arthur said and lit a cigar.

  ‘I might be paid thousands of pounds, but these changes will cost the taxpayers even more to make. Never mind the fact that some of them are impossible to implement now,’ I said and coughed. I waved the smoke away and tried to take lighter breaths. ‘I just don’t understand what makes you think you can make these demands a day before the event and when everything has been agreed on.’ I raised my voice. It was still coming out feeble and I cursed myself for being unable to keep my calm.

  Arthur chuckled. ‘But I am the new mayor and I’ve got every right to do as I please. Did you hear that, Sleazy?’ Arthur turned to Sylvester. ‘She asked what makes me think I can change my event.’

  Sylvester laughed momentarily and when Arthur turned away from him, he shot daggers at the back of his head.

  I walked to his desk. Nina stayed where she was, right by the door. ‘Firstly, that’s illegal,’ I said and grabbed his cigar to put it out on the ashtray. He jolted and his eyes faltered. ‘And secondly, Harold is the mayor. You’ve not won the election yet. You’re hardly the leader of the National Party. So, don’t come telling me you can do as you please, you insolent man. Stop acting like a child and grow up. And don’t tell my staff what they can or can’t do,’ I said and threw the clipboard on the desk in front of him and then walked out of the room, slamming the door shut.

  ‘That. Was. Awesome,’ Nina screeched. ‘I should have filmed it. Damn, why didn’t I film it? Your aura was, like, off the charts.’

  My legs gave way and Nina grabbed me before I fell. ‘Did I just make things harder for Harold? I shouldn’t have done that,’ I said.

  ‘Darling, who cares. Harold certainly won’t. He’ll probably slap a medal of honour on you for the courage alone. You’re good!’ she said and helped me stand up straight.

  I certainly hoped so. I took a few more moments to compose myself and then went back to the ballroom with Nina in tow where we helped the designers put everything back to its original place. After the shock of the confrontation I felt terrible about what I’d done. What if Arthur decided to wield his power against me? He was a very popular and powerful man. And I had just insulted his ego.

  Five

  I met Sam a little before four the next day and we helped each other get ready at my house. Sam had chosen her favourite colour combination of pink and white and I had chosen to wear my yellow and white suit resulting in a Power Rangers look that wasn’t half as bad as it sounded.

  Sam’s outfit was a sleek white pencil dress with a lace pink cape covering the top and pink heels to match. Mine was a more conventional white trousers and yellow silk blouse with my signature black loafers. I was a comfort-over-style kind of gal and was proud of it. Having spent years dressing up to impress corporate figureheads and big investors, I had earned my right to be comfy on the job.

  I would have walked to City Hall, but having Sam with blisters by the end of the night would not
have been ideal, so I drove us in my mint green beetle and parked right at the back to allow more space for the guests who would start arriving in an hour or so.

  ‘Can you go around…’ I started telling Sam, but she cut in.

  ‘And make sure everything is in place. Got it, boss,’ she said and disappeared into the mansion with her clipboard clasped tight to her chest.

  I climbed the stairs to the third floor and made my way to Harold’s office, and then knocked on his door.

  ‘Come in,’ Althea sang.

  I let myself in and found the happy First couple of this town getting ready in front of the mirror. Althea was straightening Harold’s jacket by patting it repeatedly, while Harold was trying to do up his tie. Their sweet, matching flavours lightened my mood and worked up my sweet-tooth appetite.

  ‘Hello, Joanna, dear,’ Harold said, looking at me through the mirror.

  ‘Harold. Althea. Ready to officially announce your retirement?’ I asked them.

  Harold lifted his eyebrows and huffed. ‘We’d be a lot more content if I was stepping down to a nice lad—.’

  ‘Or lass,’ Althea cut in. ‘This town needs a mayoress.’

  ‘Yes, yes indeed. But I guess we have to make do with that doofus,’ he said.

  I chuckled and came closer. ‘Just be glad you won’t have to deal with him in any capacity anymore.’

  ‘Of course I will. If he’s to be my mayor, I’m going to have to deal with his idiocy on a daily basis.’

  ‘Let’s just hope he doesn’t win, then,’ I said.

  Harold choked. ‘What are the chances of that happening? When was the last time the U.G.P. were in office?’ Althea shook her head and opened her handbag to retrieve her lipstick. ‘Nina told me what you said to Arthur yesterday.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’ I laughed.

  He didn’t. ‘Be careful, Joanna. This man has a lot of power now. You don’t know what he’s capable of.’

  I looked at Althea, who had paused mid-air and was staring at her husband. As soon as she noticed me looking, she gave me an awkward smile and continued applying her lipstick.