This is the other side of "Meeting her", so the same thing applies to it and about Sally

Wainwright's dialogue. My thanks, as before, to her and to Mr. Shakespeare, and of course, to Shirley Henderson and Rufus Sewell.

Kate's story is in the form of a diary.

The song to go with this is Suzie Quattro's "Stumblin' in"

Our love is alive and so we begin

Foolishly laying our hearts on the table

Stumblin' in

Our love is a flame burning within

Now and then, firelight will catch us

Stumblin' in

Wherever you go

Whatever you do

You know these reckless thoughts of mine

Are following you.

I've fallen for you,

Whatever you do

'cause baby, you've shown me so many things

That I never knew.

Whatever it takes baby, I'll do it for you.

Our love is alive and so we begin

Foolishly laying our hearts on the table

Stumblin' in

Our love is a flame burning within

Now and then, firelight will catch us

Stumblin' in.

MEETING HIM

MONDAY

Rumours had been flying around for some time that the leader of the party was going to retire. Hadn't really thought much about relating to myself. 38 is a bit young for a party leader especially when it's a woman. The party had had Margaret as leader but she had been nearly ten years older than me. And the party still had its prejudices

So it was a bit of a surprise when John asked me to have a chat over coffee. Sir John Apps is Chief Whip, a very big noise, very big indeed. An even bigger surprise when he asked me if I would run, biggest of all when he said he would back me.

Me... Little Miss foul tempered, foul mouthed (when in a temper which is fairly often) sarcastic, cutting, plain, dowdy ( according to my mother, my sister and the tabloids).

Katherine Minola, the M.P. for Chelsea.

I know I am clever, in fact very clever. A double first (honours)Cambridge in politics and economics, very articulate with a good dose of sense, both common and political, and smarter than most in my party and a bloody sight sharper than that idiot in number 10.

I speak my mind, don't suffer fools gladly and neither makes for friends in or out of the House.

I was beginning to turn over John's proposition in my mind when his next comment really threw me. That I should consider getting married. I would be more acceptable to the party if I was married. I politely asked who he had in mind and jokingly he said 'Anybody'.

I could feel the rage boiling up in me and I made a singularly crude gesture to John and left him.

I went back to my office.

I suppose I ought to apologise to Tim for losing my temper and slapping him this morning, and certainly to John .

I know what I ought to do but don't often do it.

God! I don't know how I get myself into these messes, making myself look an absolute idiot, and an unpleasant idiot at that.

And too much pride. ..pigheadedness. ...to apologise afterwards.

During the afternoon the conversation kept floating up in my mind.

I went home and cooked my supper (microwaved an M&S dinner).

Bianca rang, back from Milan, wanted me to have lunch with her and Mummy. My sister... ' the most beautiful woman in the world ' so the ads say, certainly the highest paid .

Oh God, I suppose I had better. I love my sister, she is clever but chooses to be thought of and act like a frivolous air head, and Mummy too.

And lunch in public with them would drive me around the bend. Men and clothes, the latest in both... who's sleeping with who... I'm not interested in either.

Still I suppose I had better make an effort. It's a while since I saw them.

TUESDAY

Met them for lunch at Claridges, Bianca was there first and I told her about John's proposal and when she looked at me blankly, explained that to be party leader meant Leader of the Opposition and from there to winning the election and becoming Prime Minister. but having to get married first. Only had to make it light and fluffy. She grasped the point right away.

"Who's going to marry a Gorgon like you?"

She is right, of course.

Then Mummy arrived and things went from bad to worse, they became so girly and giggly, I felt left out...as usual... bored... angry at their empty headedness.

Then someone wanted Bianca's autograph and... I lost my temper and upended the table creating an horrendous scene.

Brooded over this and John's suggestion all evening. Decided to take it up and see how it goes. Husbandless.

WEDNESDAY

Told John that I would run, pleasantly surprised at his reaction, he appeared to be very pleased... Neither of us said anything about his other suggestion but it was there, like a big black cloud.

Bianca rang to invite me to a party she was having tomorrow and to tell me that my little incident was likely to be in the gossip columns the next day.

No, I wouldn't go to her party. She said she was going to New York for 2 weeks on Mon... we haven't seen each other for ages... and we really are fond of each other.

Said I would see but not to hold her breath.

My diary was on the desk in front of me ... What a joyful prospect before me...

REMEMBER TO PUT OUT THE BINS.

God!

I hate parties!

THURSDAY

Spent most the day on the phone finding out how much support I would have in my bid.

I feel down and miserable.

Offended 2 colleagues.

Phone call from Harpers& Bazaar to discuss article (Hah! To make capital out of my temper tantrum at Claridges.)

Tim let Mummy in!

She came to take me to Bianca's party ...after I told Bianca I wouldn't go. They are determined to make me go. Mummy let it out about marrying in front of Tim. Shit!

Who could I marry?

I'm not interested and no-one's interested in me. Never had a boyfriend, no-one who lasted more than a couple of dates. Frightened them off, too clever, too sarky, too bad tempered, not pretty enough either, I suppose!

Then Mummy laid into me about this party. Cocaine sniffing airheads; why would I want to go?

Then Mummy really shook me, she actually asked me if I batted for the other side. God! When your own mother asks you!

Then she said, "Come for 5 minutes, you can't make a fool of yourself in five minutes."

My heart sank.

Yes I could, I knew I could. I'm an expert at it, but felt low and in need of... what? I don't know. So I went.

The usual empty-headed lot of lame brains swigging back Bianca's free booze. That moron Robbie was making an idiot of himself. Decided to patronise me by offering to teach me a few chords on his guitar. So I hit him over the head with it.

God, why do I do these things... my temper boiled over and I stormed out with Bianca equally furious in hot pursuit. I flung open the door of the flat and nearly knocked over Bianca's ex and some other bloke who were standing outside. Bianca and I screamed at each other, she stormed back and I got in the lift.

The doors were virtually closed when someone stuck his fingers in the crack and forced them open again and this bloke got in. I was pressing the buttons for the doors when he said,"Kate."

I automatically corrected him.

No-one but no-one calls me Kate, not if they want an answer.

He said "I prefer Kate. It suits you" and I looked at him for the first time.

He was big, very big. About a foot taller than me and broad. I was in no mood for clowns so I said sweetly "And you are?"

"I am going to marry you." he said and I really looked at him then. He was dark with big eyes and he was good-looking, I suppose. Which really fuelled the flames, I have no time for good-looking men, they are always so full of themselves.

This one was no different because he then proceeded to tell me he had fallen for me. Wanker!

The lift came to a stop and I realised that the doors weren't opening. This lout banged the buttons crushing me into the corner. God! He was big! Well, he didn't intimidate me. He went on to banter with and infuriate me more and more until I realised what he was saying.

HE WAS ACTUALLY SUGGESTING SEX...SEX IN A LIFT ... WITH HIM...A STRANGER ... A LUNATIC STRANGER AT THAT...

and in my fury I slapped his face and in a flash he had caught my wrist and held it.

"Do that again and I will slap you back ...harder."

He let me go and I rubbed my wrist and he said "Kate" gently almost lovingly.

We stood looking at each other and then the doors opened. That idiot, Bianca's ex stood there as I stalked past.

I heard him say "We are going to be married."

"In your dreams buster!" I said without stopping.

"I'll book the register office for Saturday... or whenever "

"Do that" I said again sweetly.

"Be in touch" he called after me.

Then, " Kiss me Kate " and I muttered "Drop dead weirdo."

I got home and made myself some drinking chocolate and got into bed.

Temper gone, I felt ready for sleep but that loony from the lift kept surfacing and I found myself laughing as I drifted off.

FRIDAY

I woke this morning feeling quite light hearted. I was eating my toast when something that guy from last night had said, came to mind and made me smile. I was unlikely to see him again but he certainly had lifted my spirits.

I went to my office and got through a sizable amount of work. Spoke to a lot of people who were prepared to help with my leadership campaign. Before I knew where I was, it was 20 past twelve.

Tim gave me some papers to sign and as he was leaving the room, turned and said "Some bloke rang when you were on the phone. Said you were having lunch together."

I frowned questioningly. I didn't think I was having lunch with anyone. I knew I wasn't having lunch with anybody!

"Who"

"Didn't say."

"Said he would meet you in 10 minutes at the bandstand in St James's park. Oh... He said you would know who it was... you met him last night at your sister's party."

"Okay."

I wasn't going to let Tim know how amazed I was by this. I hadn't thought I would ever hear from him again.

I sat there for a moment after he closed the door and thought about it... and thought... Why not and the thought made me smile.

"Going to lunch Tim." I called and went out.

It was a bitterly cold day with a thin layer of snow over the park lawns, but the paths had been cleared. I was making my way warily wondering what to expect.

I was almost at the bandstand with no sign of anyone who resembled the guy from last night. A cyclist flashed past, then a crash made me turn, the cyclist had collided with someone and there he was, picking himself up from the ground. He brushed himself down and stood smiling at me. Someone kicked a football and hit him on the head. He picked it up while the other bloke held out his hands for it.

Did he give it to him? Did he hell l!

He threw it behind him and faced up to the other's aggressive gesture. Then smiled at me again.

My heart gave a little bump and I stiffened my back.

"Are you stalking me?"I said accusingly.

"No, but I'd like to." he said.

"What do you want?"

He shifted awkwardly, looked down and said "I want you to have all my babies."

I was staggered, this was getting to be a bit of a habit being amazed by this fellow.

"You don't know me."

"I've got eyes, haven't I?"

He had done it again. My mouth dropped open.

"I don't know anything about you."

"What do you want to know?"

We sat on a park bench and he told me everything, about his dad, his troubles with the Inland Revenue, his family home that he might lose, and all the time I looked at him. Looked his hair, thick and dark, almost black, his ears, small and set close to his head, his skin, clear and fine, his mouth so sculptured, his eyes, huge and... green, emerald green. He was handsome, devastatingly handsome. I looked at him as he talked in a light gravelly voice, so fast, expressive, with little gurgles of laughter... laughter at himself.

I felt lurches, little treacherous lurches of my heart and worse, shoots, bolts of ...desire. And I knew I wanted this man, wanted him to hold me, touch me, to kiss me.

Me, the 38 year old virgin, I had never felt this before, I had fancied blokes, in a vague way, but not like this, so strong, I don't think I could stand up. I was still looking at him when he said

"I'm not a fraudster, I'm not."

And I realised I could be, easily could be, falling in love with this man. He was asking what I was doing at the weekend and if I had a car and I didn't really know what he was talking about, or what I was saying to him.

And that is how I agreed to see his house with him on Saturday.

I bought us burgers and chips and tea from the van in the park and we sat and ate them, and all the time my mind was saying "Katherine, hold on, be careful." while my body was saying something else.

"I've got to get."

"I'll walk you back."

We walked back to Westminster and he talked and I appeared to listen while my body ached and ached for him.

I walked through the gates, past the duty policeman and I heard him call me

"Kate" and as I turned, he blew me a kiss.

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