For October, the weather was quite good. There were clouds, certainly, but no rain, and it had gotten warmer of late. The sun could be clearly seen rising in the eastern sky, the tower blocks of some distant council estate silhouetted against its rays, as a group of eight people in purple T-shirts emerged from a van in the car park on the edge of the neighbourhood. A tall, rather pasty middle-aged man who wore a windstopper jacket on top of his purple shirt, went round to the boot of the van, opened one of the doors and produced a box of leaflets with a purple and yellow logotype on them along with political slogans and a picture of a beaming woman in a pantsuit with a rosette in the same colours on her lapel.
"Alright people, here we are. Today we're going to be covering everything from the Northwich Road to the park, which means four streets - that's 36 households - for each pair to cover. I'd advise those of you who are new to this to team up with one of our more experienced members. We'll meet here again at noon. Good luck, everyone."
The group divided itself into four smaller groups of two people each, who each took a set of leaflets from the box and proceeded up the road. Most of the group were thoroughly enjoying the weather and the campaign mood, but one of them was still feeling remnants of anxiety along with anticipation. His name was Michael, and he wasn't from here - he was from a small town out in the country, the sort of place where the party doesn't - well, didn't - stand a ghost of a chance, and when the by-election was called and the local party asked for activists from around the region, Michael felt he ought to sign up. He'd been one of the many new faces who joined the party after its last high-profile by-election victory, and this was his first real campaigning experience. Before, in the drab old days of the two-party system, he hadn't been much interested in politics, but now… more so.
The party seemed to offer a fresh choice, something different from what Labour and the Tories had been doing for decades. Sure, some of its ideas Michael didn't agree with, and some of the members were a bit out there, but the message of change and reform was a good one. He took one of the leaflets and looked at it. "SUE JONES - THE CANDIDATE OF COMMON SENSE", the caption read. That was a good message, too. The country was in deep trouble, that much was obvious to everyone, but all Westminster would do about it was squabble over details and chase political points, all while ignoring the simple, obvious solution. Hopefully with his party in power - he was quite confident that the next general election would see them if not in power then with a significant amount of influence - things would be different. Perhaps they'd even be better. And that, at the end of the day, was a cause worth campaigning for.
"You're Mike, right?" a man, slightly older than him, said.
"Yeah," he replied. "Mike Allenby, from Great Norwood."
"I'm Jim Stewart." They shook hands. "So, should we team up?"
"Why not. You done this sort of thing before?"
"Yeah, I was around for the last general. Of course, back then I was a Tory."
A Tory. Interesting. Not many people joined the party from the Tories - well, not that Michael knew anyway. Up here most of the party's campaigners seemed to be disgruntled right-wing former Labour members - granted, politics around these parts tended not to involve many groups other than disgruntled Labourites and enthusiastic Labourites. Still, there was that one MP out in the East, and he imagined a bunch more Tories might agree with the main plank of the party's ideology.
"Well then," he contented himself to say. "This will be my first round of canvassing, so I guess you should show me the ropes by the sound of the guy who gave out the leaflets."
"Phil's a nice guy, but in his party work he's a bit overzealous to welcome new members. As if there are any members who aren't new. Anyway, it's simple really - knock on the doors, if no one's home drop a leaflet in the mailbox on your way to the next house. If someone is home ask them if they'd consider voting for Sue Jones for Parliament, and if they are, say something about the need for positive change and hand them a leaflet. If they aren't, be polite about it - no one likes having their intelligence insulted."
"Alright, I think that's mostly stuff I expected. Let's head out."
Jim raised his head and called for attention. "Mike and I'll take Ambrosia Lane and the next three streets down."
"Alright," said the man whose name was apparently Phil, "that leaves just the last four streets to be done. Jane and Dave, would you take those?"
Before they could hear Jane and Dave's answer, Mike and Jim were off. The neighbourhood was all terraced houses, with a mixture of Volvos, Mercedeses and white panel vans parked in the drives. Exactly the sort of place where the party would play well, and that was probably why they were there with the canvassing and not in the council estates. They walked a few blocks down the main road until they reached a sign saying Ambrosia Lane, whereupon they turned in to the indicated side street. The first house was one of the ones with a van parked outside, and in the front yard were flowers and children's toys. A picture of the lower middle class.
"Why don't you hit the ground running and take the lead on this one?" Jim said. "Just knock on the door and see if someone answers."
Michael felt a bit unsure, but still said a low "Alright," and walked up the path to the door. He rang the doorbell, and waited with a pounding heart. After a few minutes, a woman in a blue frock carrying a mop opened the door. "Hello," she said.
"He-hello, ma'am," Michael stammered out. "We were wondering if you or your husband would potentially be interested in voting for Sue Jones in the by-election on the 15th."
"The by-election, I thought as much. Which party are you from, then?"
"The Social Democrats," Michael said. The door slammed in his face.
"Alright people, here we are. Today we're going to be covering everything from the Northwich Road to the park, which means four streets - that's 36 households - for each pair to cover. I'd advise those of you who are new to this to team up with one of our more experienced members. We'll meet here again at noon. Good luck, everyone."
The group divided itself into four smaller groups of two people each, who each took a set of leaflets from the box and proceeded up the road. Most of the group were thoroughly enjoying the weather and the campaign mood, but one of them was still feeling remnants of anxiety along with anticipation. His name was Michael, and he wasn't from here - he was from a small town out in the country, the sort of place where the party doesn't - well, didn't - stand a ghost of a chance, and when the by-election was called and the local party asked for activists from around the region, Michael felt he ought to sign up. He'd been one of the many new faces who joined the party after its last high-profile by-election victory, and this was his first real campaigning experience. Before, in the drab old days of the two-party system, he hadn't been much interested in politics, but now… more so.
The party seemed to offer a fresh choice, something different from what Labour and the Tories had been doing for decades. Sure, some of its ideas Michael didn't agree with, and some of the members were a bit out there, but the message of change and reform was a good one. He took one of the leaflets and looked at it. "SUE JONES - THE CANDIDATE OF COMMON SENSE", the caption read. That was a good message, too. The country was in deep trouble, that much was obvious to everyone, but all Westminster would do about it was squabble over details and chase political points, all while ignoring the simple, obvious solution. Hopefully with his party in power - he was quite confident that the next general election would see them if not in power then with a significant amount of influence - things would be different. Perhaps they'd even be better. And that, at the end of the day, was a cause worth campaigning for.
"You're Mike, right?" a man, slightly older than him, said.
"Yeah," he replied. "Mike Allenby, from Great Norwood."
"I'm Jim Stewart." They shook hands. "So, should we team up?"
"Why not. You done this sort of thing before?"
"Yeah, I was around for the last general. Of course, back then I was a Tory."
A Tory. Interesting. Not many people joined the party from the Tories - well, not that Michael knew anyway. Up here most of the party's campaigners seemed to be disgruntled right-wing former Labour members - granted, politics around these parts tended not to involve many groups other than disgruntled Labourites and enthusiastic Labourites. Still, there was that one MP out in the East, and he imagined a bunch more Tories might agree with the main plank of the party's ideology.
"Well then," he contented himself to say. "This will be my first round of canvassing, so I guess you should show me the ropes by the sound of the guy who gave out the leaflets."
"Phil's a nice guy, but in his party work he's a bit overzealous to welcome new members. As if there are any members who aren't new. Anyway, it's simple really - knock on the doors, if no one's home drop a leaflet in the mailbox on your way to the next house. If someone is home ask them if they'd consider voting for Sue Jones for Parliament, and if they are, say something about the need for positive change and hand them a leaflet. If they aren't, be polite about it - no one likes having their intelligence insulted."
"Alright, I think that's mostly stuff I expected. Let's head out."
Jim raised his head and called for attention. "Mike and I'll take Ambrosia Lane and the next three streets down."
"Alright," said the man whose name was apparently Phil, "that leaves just the last four streets to be done. Jane and Dave, would you take those?"
Before they could hear Jane and Dave's answer, Mike and Jim were off. The neighbourhood was all terraced houses, with a mixture of Volvos, Mercedeses and white panel vans parked in the drives. Exactly the sort of place where the party would play well, and that was probably why they were there with the canvassing and not in the council estates. They walked a few blocks down the main road until they reached a sign saying Ambrosia Lane, whereupon they turned in to the indicated side street. The first house was one of the ones with a van parked outside, and in the front yard were flowers and children's toys. A picture of the lower middle class.
"Why don't you hit the ground running and take the lead on this one?" Jim said. "Just knock on the door and see if someone answers."
Michael felt a bit unsure, but still said a low "Alright," and walked up the path to the door. He rang the doorbell, and waited with a pounding heart. After a few minutes, a woman in a blue frock carrying a mop opened the door. "Hello," she said.
"He-hello, ma'am," Michael stammered out. "We were wondering if you or your husband would potentially be interested in voting for Sue Jones in the by-election on the 15th."
"The by-election, I thought as much. Which party are you from, then?"
"The Social Democrats," Michael said. The door slammed in his face.
