TLIAW: Left is Right

Edinburgh, UK - 18th February 2016
18:47
It was my first general election whilst living in Scotland, so I was rather excited to see the difference in opinion north of the border compared with the usual two-party focus back in Cornwall. Despite my own opinions and preference, it was an open secret that Cornwall rarely went other than blue or yellow and expecting anything else would be wishing for the impossible. The rare moment when Camborne and Redruth had gone red didn’t really count though; it was a moment of apathy when Labour had been able to get their act together but the Conservatives remained the dominant party since that blip.

Up here though it was more of a contest between all of the major parties: Tories, Liberals, Labour, DSP, with the extra regional addition of the SNP. The last Scottish election had made things tense between what were then my classmates as some of them were ardent nationalists, others were more reserved in their views who only wanted some kind of change for the system, and then there were the rather vocal unionists who could easily start a fight with the nationalists if someone didn’t try to intervene. Ironically, it was often me, the Englishman, who ended up breaking up the fighting though I think having the ever-conciliatory and all-round ‘nice guy’ Steve at my side helped things too.

In one of the odder parts of my time in Edinburgh though, I would be spending the night watching the results with Steve, his girlfriend Rose, our fellow former-classmate and best friend Jack, and his better half Keighley. I expected that we’d be joined by Fraser and Rebecca later on in the evening, but no confirmation had bene hear which was typical of them; Rebecca had broken her phone and Fraser rarely answered phone calls at the best of times. Between all of us, we brought together the entire national spectrum: one DSP, two Tories (One strongly right-wing too), one Liberal, one SNP-leaning Independent, one Labour-leaning Independent, and an uncommitted. Yep, it was going to be an interesting evening alright.

On the bus down to Steve and Rose’s flat, I passed by the Scottish Parliament. It really is a ghastly looking thing, but the damp, dreary weather outside didn’t really help to make it look any better. I’d never really interested in architecture, but I always thought that something a little ‘simpler and practical’ would have worked just as well instead of the Faux-Gothic look they went for. Another lasting legacy of the MacKay years. It always seemed to me that it was like Edinburgh tried very hard to be a Mini-London without the bustle, but somehow came across as a poor copy rather than trying to make itself something unique. On the other hand, my idea of a Scottish Parliament would have been a rather simple looking office block affair so I doubt I would really be one to comment on any of it.

It was still going to be a few hours before the polling stations closed and the voting had finished, but we’d already decided to meet at Steve and Rose’s to start the evening on a good note. Of course, none of us knew what quite what we’d meant by that; as a teetotaller, I had little interest in getting drunk before the results, Jack and Keighley had a rather limited interest in politics to begin with, short of their own ideological support and seeing the (hoped for) decimation of the SNP, whilst Steve and Rose enjoyed the conversation but seemed to be quietly hoping things wouldn’t get too dramatic in any impromptu debates.

Nevertheless, as was customary, I would endeavour to be the first to arrive. Getting off the bus into the drizzle outside, I made sure to lift my coat collar up to try and keep my blazer and DSP pin dry. The traffic wasn’t as bas I would have thought, though being on the outer-edges of the city centre and off the main road would always mean the only people driving in this area would either be those leaving work late or those who lived around here. The green flat door was open; the lock had been broken since the couple had moved in, so anyone could walk into the stairwell but getting into any of the other doors would have been a trickier task. The air was always musty in the stairwell and often accompanied by a more familiar scent from some of the students who also lived somewhere in the flats. Tonight there was a distant lack of ‘stronger than tobacco’ smoke; I assumed that they must either be out or not partaking of their usual habits.

I knocked on the flat door as the door bell had never worked since they’d first moved into the place a month ago. Steve had told me how he’d have liked it to work because it was a very antiquated doorbell that used rope rather than an electrical system, but paint had clogged up the rope meaning it wouldn’t move through any of the pulleys. I could already Steve’s Dundonian accent inside the flat as he was talking to someone, presumably Rose. Opening the door, I saw that the short, well-built form of my best friend had decided to dress himself up a bit from his usual casual worn-out green jumper and into one of his Indian shirts.

“Hello,” he greeted me with. “Come on in. Jack and Keighley are going to be a little while still; they’re having dinner at theirs before coming over in about an hour.”

“They wouldn’t be missing much,” I replied. I got a confused and somewhat perturbed look back from Steve. I flustered quickly to explain myself. “I mean the results – they wouldn’t be through until 10 o’clock anyway, or the poll predictions then anyway.”

“Oh, right.” Steve seemed more relaxed; one of the habits of our relationship was my own saying something without realising the implications and having to swiftly explain myself. “Rose is just in the bathroom, so she’ll be out in a bit. Cuppa?”

“Please,” I graciously answered. “Do you know if Jack and Keighley will be able to stay late tonight?”

“Didn’t Jack tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“He’s working tomorrow, so they can only stay until about 10:00 anyway.”

“Well that removes the point of tonight, doesn’t it?” I replied. Steve gave me on his ‘come on now’ looks. “I know; I know – I’m allowed to be a bit annoyed though.”

“Fair enough. But at least you can spend the night telling me and Rose about it all instead.”

“And I know how much you’ve been looking forward to that.”

“Go on then, Mr. Expert; what do you think’ll happen?”

“First guess; no idea.”

“No idea?”

“Could go either way – Labour might be able to pull it off and get the numbers, but they’ve not been doing too well in the polls after all those gaffes. Then again, I don’t think people have been exactly supportive of Bercow and his austerity and all the cuts so it might be enough to swing it.”

“No landslide for you?”

“I think we’ll do well, but the DSP tend to pick their fights and make the gradual change then expect anything major.”

“I bet you’ll love telling us all about it.”

“Of course.”
 
Again?

Again?

Doing another TLIA[Insert period of time here].

Yes. I had the idea and decided to run with it.

And a narrative style this time?

Fits better with an election night.

Because that style fit so well for your Cornish Assembly one.

One day I’ll get back to that one.

Shouldn’t go losing notebooks, should you?

Quite finished?

Not really.

Fair enough.

So what’s happened here?

Spoilers.

Seriously?

Yep.

Oy.
 
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