One Day in May - Catherine Alliott [20]
‘Oh, no, only the cabinet have offices over there. In fact it’s quite nice to be at a distance; to go there and then come back. You appreciate the contrast more. It’s like anything: when you get too close, it loses its appeal.’
‘So you still get a buzz from it?’
‘Oh, yes, it would be hard not to. Having said that, it’s a job, like any other. Routine and hard work. The excitement and glamour – what there is of it – is in the chamber. I’ll take you over there later. It’s Prime Minister’s questions at twelve o’clock. Dominic asked me to get you a ticket. We’ll go and watch.’
‘Did he? Oh, how kind! So we’ll all go together?’
‘Well, Dominic obviously sits on the benches. We’ll be up in the visitors’ gallery.’
‘Of course.’ I sat where she’d shown me. ‘Is he… terribly busy at the moment?’
‘Extremely.’ She bustled across to her own desk and picked up a great pile of papers. ‘And I’m afraid you won’t see a great deal of him. He’s lobbying for support on a transport bill at the moment. We’ve got a few waverers, and there’s a rogue member in Wales who’s threatening to go Lib-Dem, probably about to lose his constituency, so he’s sticking the knife in as usual – all hell’s breaking loose. Why don’t you sit and have a look through these bills and reforms and familiarize yourself with what he does?’ She dumped them on my desk. ‘His big thing is education, he’s passionate about the primaries. Have a look at his latest proposals.’
Whilst Katya pounded her computer in the other corner, I spent a very turgid hour flicking through a mind-numbingly dull heap of documents, trying hard not to yawn, or even pass out. In my bag was a Cosmo, which I surreptitiously smuggled onto my lap.
After a while, I went to make myself a cup of coffee in the little kitchen. Katya was already in there, and before I went in, I heard her talking to another secretary behind the door.
‘And of course Dominic takes all these students, and then flaming well disappears. What am I supposed to do with her?’
My hand came away from the handle. I stepped back. I was one of many: a student who wanted to see the chamber, the Strangers’ Gallery, have a drink on the terrace overlooking the river, be introduced to MPs. Maybe even catch a glimpse of the Prime Minister. I went back to the office.
Moments later Katya fluttered back to her desk.
‘There you are, dear.’ She handed me a mug. ‘And there’s a couple of biscuits and a sugar. I’m sorry I haven’t been very communicative, but when I’ve finished these letters and made a few calls, I’ll take you across the road.’ She hastened back to her seat.
‘I can type,’ I said. ‘Accurately. My father taught me. He’s a journalist. I used to type up copy for him sometimes. Why don’t you make your calls and I’ll finish that pile for you?’
She looked at me, surprised, over her glasses.
‘I’m fast, sixty words a minute.’
‘Well…’
I saw her hesitate. ‘Where have you got to?’ I got up and crossed to her desk.
She rose hesitantly. ‘Well, you can have a go at his correspondence, if you like. These are responses to all his constituents, but his handwriting’s appalling. I don’t know if you’ll be able—’
‘I will.’ I sat down eagerly. ‘My dad’s got terrible writing too. If I can decipher that I can read anything.’
I took the pile of letters from her, flicked up the screen, and shot a piece of Portcullis-headed paper into the printer. She hovered over me uncertainly as I rattled off the first one. Dominic’s handwriting was appalling, but once I’d got my eye in I could see his As and Es were the only confusing elements and I could guess the rest. I handed Katya the letter to check.
‘Very good,’ she said approvingly. ‘Well, if you could bear to wade your way through that little lot I can sit at the other desk and ring the party chairman with a whole list of worries and woes. Reply to some of Dominic’s emails,