FEATURE ARTICLE


Tunde OyedoyinFriday, November 21, 2003
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London, UK

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FATIMA, THE SUICIDE LOVER - Part 1
(FICTION)


atima counted herself exceptionally lucky when after just 11 months of graduating with a post - graduate diploma from the London School of Journalism in July 2010, she was in her second job with one of the most respected national dailies, the National Mirror. While still trying to soak that in, the Sunday editor informed her that she would be posted to the House of Commons in Westminster, as the parliamentary correspondent.

"Oh my God," she screamed in the newsroom not minding she had distracted others.

"You'll find it quite challenging, but it's a good place to cut your teeth as a reporter," Brian, the editor assured. It was there that she caught the eye of Andy Brown, a Member of Parliament-MP-representing the vibrant New Age party for Walthamstone East constituency.

Politicians, by their nature are supposed to be immune to any distractions in the House of Commons, and Andy has always maintained a policy of looking straight and dealing only in political issues until the arrival of this thoroughly bred 23-year old, who combines beauty, humour and brain in her frame. Andy-as other Members of Parliament, MPs call him - couldn't resist the opportunity to notice this rare combination during an interactive session between MPs and the media recently, but he kept sealed lips and didn't look ruffled when both shared a joke.

"I hope you've enjoyed the debate and hope to see more of you in the press gallery," was all he said. Ever since that brief encounter, he's always taken time to make sure their paths crossed each other at least once a week.

"Opportunities come to every one, so I'm not going to jump the gun," he whispered to himself last wednesday, after bumping into her deliberately. So, it was a good development for him when she asked for an exclusive interview on a monday afternoon in March 2011 - four weeks after Andy was appointed to be Chairman of the House Committee on Education.

"A great opportunity," he thought."It seems the mountain is finally coming to meet Mohammed," he joked within himself."But not wanting to give himself away so soon before anyone,

"Why don't you arrange it for thursday afternoon?", he told one of his aides. And before the press gallery was emptied that afternoon, Brian called Fatima to confirm that the interview had been approved by the Right Honourable Member of Parliament and:"We'll expect you to be in his meeting room by 5.30pm on thursday."

"Did you say Thursday? Fatima wanted to be sure."

"Absolutely, just take my words for it," Brian, a larger than life press aide of the MP responded cheerfully. One would have thought he's just clinched a multi-million pound deal or won the midweek jackpot in the national lottery. Nothing of such, though. Brian just prefers being part of the equation, hence he was quick to add:"If there'll be any changes, I'll surely let you know before noon tomorrow."

"Cheers," she replied, disappearing to join her colleagues.

"You're having things going for you so smoothly," Deborah, a columnist with Manchester Telegraph, teased her. "Andy is one of the most articulate and brilliant MPs of this generation, but he rarely grants one to one interviews even before his new post."

"Really?" Fatima asked, somehow surprised.

"That's no news to anyone who's been a correspondent here for years." Jade, a blonde reporter with BBC Radio in Wales interrupted.

"I should be lucky then," Fatima finally admitted.

"Of course you are," Deborah responded quickly.

"But don't expect more than six or seven minutes of his time. That's the longest I've seen him gone in the past four years that I've been here,"Jade added.

"That should be enough to craft a 1,000 word piece. Thanks for letting me know anyway," Fatima said, before they parted for the day. But what Fatima experienced three days later was a complete contrast to what she was told by her senior colleagues. Was she just lucky or the MP was in a good mood? She couldn't tell, but a different picture was emerging.

Sitting in his office in a relaxed atmosphere, Andy Brown didn't appear to be stingy with his time as he explained to her that his office is now free and preferable to the general meeting room down the corridor.

"What do you think," he asked.

"Well, that's up to you. Your wish is my command," she respectfully said.

"Okay, young lady, how long do you think this interview will take?"

While Fatima tried to figure out what to say, he reluctantly came to her rescue.

"Let's say 20 - 30 minutes?" getting up to get some drinks in the fridge.

"That should be fine then,"she responded.

"But, I'm not going to be rigid about it, if you feel you want a few minutes extra, you 're free to go ahead. Life shouldn't be a straight jacket for everyone to be squeezed in irrespective of their size."

"You're right. But that beats my imagination, Mr Brown" Fatima said." I thought people said you don't usually have much time for journalists?"

"You could be right, but not on every occasion. It's just that some of your colleagues wouldn't take time to do their homework before showing up. If I may add, please call me Andy like your colleagues and mine do. Anyway, let's get it going and would you like something to drink for a start?"

"I'm fine for now."

The interview really went well and after almost 40 minutes, Fatima was satisfied she's got all the answers she needed to do the feature story commissioned by her sunday editor.

"Its been a pleasure talking to you," she said, as she made her way out of the expansive office on the first floor of the Parliament building.

"You're always welcome to ask questions on any issue you're not clear about. That's what every politician should be doing rather than spending taxpayers money hiring spin doctors, " the handsome Oxford-trained political scientist responded. Just as she was about to go out, the MP said:

"Hang on a second, please forgive me if this comment I'm about to make is rather offensive, but I would be faking blindness if I don't say that you're looking really gorgeous. I just feel it would be an oversight if you were to leave this office without having received a well deserved compliment for being well mannered and so stunning."

Blushing for some seconds before giving a response, the look on her face revealed that was the least thing she had expected,

"Stunning?" she couldn't hide her surprise, she reacted fast:"Thank you,"

She eventually got herself together:"I must say I find you quite charming and brilliant too. That seems a rare combination for an MP. On would have thought all that matters to a politician is a heap of files and unending arguments with the Ruling party. This interview's an eye opener. "

"Thanks, Fatima. I won't say I'm flattered, but I really value your comments. I just hope this won't be the last time you'll be having an exclusive interview in this office? Feel free to request for one anytime you're inclined to. There may be times when some of the information you get here will make it to the front page of your newspaper. And by the way, I look forward to hosting you at dinner as soon as you think there's one odd free evening in your busy diary."

"Oh my God, this is unbelievable," Fatima found that too true to believe. It took about five minutes before she could recover from that.

"Anyway, I think I'd better go," closing the door gently as she left and giving him a "Forget me not," wink.

"I don't know what went on there? I hope it's not an infatuation or something? No, no, no. I just hope I'm not crossing the boundary between work and pleasure? Maybe it's a kind of mutual admiration for each other. I don't think there's anything wrong in that.Afterall,most people-including the Mayor - meet their lovers at their place of work and it wouldn't be anything unethical if I'm the next one to be added to that growing list."

She continued replaying the:" after interview" moment in her mind. One thing she knew wouldn't happen is a relationshipship.

"I know I'm not ready for any of such, my career is most important to me than any kiss and tell tale." That struggle went on in her mind until a black cab stopped in front as she stepped out of the building.

"Where?" the driver asked, tilting his head to get eye contact.

"Kent terrace in Marylebone,"

"Come in," he said. Throughout the 20 minute drive to the flat she shared with her elder sister, Aisha, her mind flipped between that extraordinary moment in Andy's office and the next day's deadline to get her story in for the sunday's paper. She didn't seem to realise the journey was almost over until the shortish man behind the wheel asked:"What number please?"

"I'm so sorry. It's the last house on your left, that's no 15."

"Okay then," as he drove for less than a minute before reaching the three bedroom luxury apartment for middle class Britons. She parted with just ten pounds, two more than what the driver charged for his effort.

"Never mind," she told him as he was about looking for a two pound coin. She was bubbling as ever on entering the flat. Aisha was used to seeing her younger sister come in happy, so it was something she expected. But Fatima's happiness was unusual, entirely different from other nights.

"Today was a bit extraordinary at work?" dropping her bag and twisting her body like a model on a catwalk.

"Is it?"

"Yes, Aisha. It happened to me,"

"Tell me about it," Aisha busied herself with chicken and chips and asked her sister to take her portion from the microwave.

Giving more details over dinner, "I had a rare opportunity of an exclusive interview with one of the most brilliant MPs in the House. And guess what, it went quite, quite well."

"And so," her sister teased."What's so special about an interview going well? What would you have expected anyway?"

"There's more to this than a question and answer session. It appears the MP and I have some mutual affection for each other. It's so amazing. It's the first time in my four weeks there that a politician will be lavishing suggestive comments about me." Aisha could notice that she was really excited.

"That sounds interesting, but don't be carried away my dear. Its early days, and don't be deceived by some flattery words from an old politician."

"But Aisha, it's not what you think, MPs are responsible citizens and top of that, he's in his early 30s.He's a brilliant young philosopher. I'm sure you'll be over the moon if someone like that took time out to say a few things about your looks. I guess it's only a matter of time before you realise I'm not being deceived."

"Exactly," Aisha told her.

Despite that one off lucky break with Andy and what she told Aisha about him, Fatima was still able to settle down later for a well crafted piece for her bald headed editor, Brian Stone the next day.

"It seems you're pulling your weight already at the House of Commons. This should be okay for the lead story on Sunday," Greg told her a couple of hours after the story had been edited and laid out.

But back at the Parliament the following week, Fatima seemed to have developed some cold feet about Andy Brown and she tried avoiding him for three weeks, thanks to what she heard from a colleague with a regional radio station. "You'll do yourself a world of good not to stretch your imagination," Sarah, a confidant of hers on the payroll of Scottish A. M warned.

"Why?"

"Well, you'll get to know better with time. Many hearts have been broken to pieces in this Parliament and I wouldn't want yours to be the next." That comment seemed to have extinguished any flame of love burning in some corner of her heart.

Andy could sense something was going wrong in subsequent days. For almost two weeks, their paths never crossed and when it did the third week, she sounded so official and cold. But eventually, he managed to catch a view of her outside the press gallery on the last wednesday in May. She took a different route immediately.

"I wouldn't want our first contact to be the last, something should be happening why Fatima doesn't want us to meet again," he muttered to himself along the corridor of his first floor office. Brown decided it would be a good idea to drop a note for her in the press gallery pigeonhole, but just a few seconds before that, when he spotted her again. At that instance, she turned in his direction, their eyes met-much to his delight than hers - and without having to say a word, that eye contact was enough to make her walk towards the restaurant where he joined her immediately.

Nobody would have cared to notice an MP and a journalist having coffee together. It was common sight, the story wouldn't even make the back page of any gossip column. None of the gossip writers took a second glance at them.

"Why don't we arrange to have a drink together over the weekend?" Brown made his intentions known shortly after they started coffee sipping.

"I won't really object to that, would I?", she said. They exchanged cards for the first time at her request.

"That's brilliant, at least I can give you a reminder on saturday morning," Brown stated.

"That would be quite useful," she complimented his efforts.

"I just feel an interview could as well be done outside the four walls of the Parliament," he teased further.

"As you like it," Fatima said.

Two days later, they met at the Marriot Hotel in Golders Green, with Andy being the first to arrive at 7.00pm, Fatima joined him 30 minutes later as scheduled.

"I'm glad you made it," he told her, ordering drinks almost immediately at the five star hotel.

"I don't usually break my promises," she replied, without looking directly into his probing eyes.

"I'm glad to hear that. Permit me to add that you're really look gorgeous as ever in this beautiful evening wear." His eyes moved all over her slim frame while also taking time to digest her last comment - I don't usually break my promises.

"You're not bad either. It blows my mind seeing a Member of Parliament in a trendy T shirt, a complete contrast from the usual formal dressing one is used. By the way, what's it like being a politician? How demanding is it? "

"It's not as difficult as you journalists may think, but the key thing is, following the party's policies and ensure we don't contradict each other in the House. It's that simple."

Well, that was as far as they went with any of such questions for the night. After ordering for more wine and before moving to join other guests enjoying the "in house "saturday night party time, Andy held her hands and threw down the gauntlet:

"I don't know if I'm wrong to say this, but I want you to know It's been difficult to get you out of my mind, especially after that interview."

Looking straight into his eyes and gently squeezing his hands, she asked:"What do you want me to say? I've had some thoughts about you as well, but it's so scary to me. I don't want to be in love for now and that's why I deliberately tried avoiding you, even though one part of me wanted us to meet again. But when I started hearing a few things about past relationships and how hearts are broken in the House, I 'm scared, I'm scared," she said - almost in tears.

Putting his left hand on her shoulder, Brown told her:"I'd never planned to be involved in any relationship whatsoever with any female journalist, and for the past two years since I came to Westminster, I haven't looked at anyone in the press gallery twice. But from that first day you were introduced, I told myself, 'Go for this.' Your colleagues will tell you I'm a hard old breed generation politician - even though I'm just 28. But its just because as a single man and one of the most eligible bachelors in town, I haven't seen anyone I'll want to spend the rest of my life with. I've had one or two brief relationships in the past, but they never lasted more than a couple of weeks. My heart was never really with those ladies. "

Looking up to his eyes:"How do I know your heart is in this?"

"That's the reason I asked that we meet, I'm here to let you know that I've found someone I can love. Her name is Fatima."

That cut through her heart. She didn't give a less emotional reply:"I was supposed to be a parliamentary correspondent, but everything appeared to be going in a different direction now. I'm still scared about everything, but that doesn't mean I've got no feelings for you. It's just that I don't want to get hurt or put myself in any type of mess." She was looking at the roof as if lost in some imaginary world: "I don't know what's going on," she finally said.

"Trust me,Fatima.It's been over 10 months that I went out with any woman. I have this feeling for you and its only natural that I be given a chance to prove myself. You mean so much to me and I don't see myself ever wanting to walk out on you, take my word for it."

She looked into his eyes again, prompting him to say:" I can see it there, there's a place in your heart for me."

"I hope this is for real?"

"Fatima, you can count on me, I'll always be there for you." He lighted her up with a passionate kiss which she didn't object to.

"You made me feel like a woman."

He reached for her lips again and they just couldn't let go of each other until they needed to catch some breath.

"I knew I wouldn't be able to resist you," Fatima confessed later. When they were leaving some four hours later, it was with satisfaction and both were convinced they were meant for each other. He drove her to her flat in Marylebone before heading to his at Knightsbridge.

Their relationship took off officially that night, but nobodyamong their colleagues knew anything was going on between the two until six months later. They decided there was no need to keep a lid over it again. He felt Christmas time was the right period to slip a 36 carat gold ring into her fourth left finger. They were out at the Royal Festival Hall in Waterloo for a live Jazz session, and as they got back inside his car, he asked:

"Guess what I'm doing next?"

"Driving me home, of course."

"That's fine, any other suggestion?"

"Meet again tomorrow evening?"

"Any other?"

"Help me out," she said. Andy brought out something from his Jeans back pocket. It was a well crafted piece of ornament. All he said was,

"This is my promise to spend the rest of my days loving you," as the ring was being slid into her finger. Her expression said it all-absolute surprise. He sealed it with the most prolonged kiss they've ever shared.

"I never knew this was for real until now," she told him.Fatima whispered a love tune into his ears after he followed on with one more kiss.

"Tonight, I'll celebrate my love for you.. Tonight, . . . �."

"You can sing it a million times over." Fatima, did you know you can definitely make a career out of your voice?"

To be concluded next week