Polls Apart Read Online Free Page A

up the pros and cons of running a story such as this. It would, of course, strike a major blow to the Social Democrats – which would please the paper’s staunch Alliance-supporting owner, Victor Nemov, no end – but would also mean if, as likely, Williams won the election, they would be all but blacklisted when it came to briefings. Damian, however, knew he had to do what would please his owner and shift copies off the newstands – and this story would certainly do both. In these tough times for the newspaper industry, that alone would be worth ticking off Henry and his mob. They weren’t going to blacklist a national Sunday newspaper for long no matter how pissed off they were. In fact, the more Damian thought about it he couldn’t see a down side. As long as the story was true. And that was where Marie would come in. She would have to get her facts straight and, even then, they’d need to get it direct from the horse’s mouth. That would involve a carefully crafted phone call to Anna Lloyd that could not go wrong. Marie was fairly new to his team, having moved from another Sunday tabloid just three months ago, but Damian had no doubt she was the right woman for the job. He had hired her based on the reputation she’d earned for getting a story between her teeth and refusing to let it go if there was an ounce of mileage in it. That was what he needed here. Someone with enough pluck and tenacity to pull this thing off.
    “You wanted to see me, Damian?” Marie stood smiling in the doorway wearing a bright-red halter-neck top, black cardigan and what looked to Damian to be some kind of rah-rah skirt – the kind he hadn’t seen since the Eighties. As he took in the petite vision standing before him, notepad clutched in her left hand, ready for business, Damian momentarily lost track of what he was about to say.
    “Yes…” he beamed broadly, showing his nicotine-stained teeth in their full glory. “Come in, Marie. I’ve got a job-and-a-half for you, so why don’t you take a seat and make a few notes because this one could be a career changer.”
    Anna carefully applied a second layer of lipstick and smoothed her hair over for the final time. Her hairdresser, Torquin, had left only minutes earlier, having spent more than an hour and a half styling her shoulder-length locks. Tonight was the Sunday Echo ’s much-heralded “Great Britons” awards ceremony and Anna was fully aware how much scrutiny both she and Richard would be under. They were jointly presenting an award tonight – something Henry had hailed as a terrific idea – until the last couple of weeks when tensions over her “behaviour” had reached new heights. Richard paced the floor behind her, fervently reciting the few introductory lines he had planned for his time in the spotlight.
    “Tonight is so much more than just an awards ceremony,” he murmured. “It’s a celebration of all that is good in British society…”
    Anna deliberately zoned out, choosing instead to focus on squeezing her feet into the three-inch stilettos that Henry’s newly appointed stylist had chosen for her. Much to Henry’s dismay – as Anna felt sure he hoped the two women would be at each other’s throats – the stylist, Camilla, had actually proved a popular addition to Richard and Anna’s rapidly growing advisory team, having picked out some particularly stunning outfits, including tonight’s silk Amanda Wakeley dress.
    Things were looking up, thought Anna.
    “Are you ready yet?” Richard asked nervously.
    “Yes. I’ve been ready for the past five minutes.”
    “You’ve only just put your shoes on.”
    “Well, I wasn’t rushing because it looked like you were about to practise your introduction for the fiftieth time.” Anna flashed a sarcastic grin.
    Richard sighed. “Let’s go then. The car’s waiting outside.”
    Anna sensed Richard’s tension growing steadily throughout the twenty-minute journey to the studios in Southbank where the