“So how are you feeling about your progress?” asked the reporter.
“I’m thrilled,” Mr Graves beamed. “I’ve put my heart and soul into this campaign, and I’ve been receiving so many positive responses. It was always going to be tough—I mean, we’re practically trying to reinvent the party. But we’ve done our research, and we’re staying true to our mission statement, and I’m confident about our future.”
“You initially had a great deal of backlash for wanting to relaunch the Parapsych Independence Party, didn’t you? For trying to appeal to only a portion of the population.”
“Well, one could argue that every political party only appeals to a portion of the population. You can’t please everyone, as the saying goes. Parapsychism is at the forefront of my politics, but I do believe having PIP representatives in government would be of immense benefit to everyone.” He stroked out the bristles of his moustache. “I do understand the concern, of course I do. Highlighting parapsychs in politics is a radical idea, but I think when everyone sees how beneficial it is, they’ll come around. You know, even my wife Elise wasn’t sure at first!” He bellowed an exaggerated laugh. “But she saw how passionate I was about making positive changes to everyone’s life, and since then she’s been nothing but supportive. Isn’t that right, darling?”
He hugged his wife closer and squeezed her shoulder a little harder than necessary.
“Mmhmm,” she forced a smile, “yes.”
“That is lovely,” the reporter typed quickly on a netpad. “You do have a beautiful family. And your daughter goes to the Winsbury School of Parapsychology, I hear?” She turned to Cecily.
Cecily looked up from fiddling with her thumbs. “What was that, sorry?”
“Pay attention, angel!” her father urged.
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“I was just confirming that you go to Winsbury. Is that right?”
“Oh, yeah that’s right.”
“Cecily is among the top students in her class, you know,” her father added. “She’s hoping to be Head Girl one day!”
“Really!” the reporter smiled a gummy smile. “Very impressive. And do you think business or politics is in your future like it was your father’s?”
“Oh, I’m sure of it,” Mr Graves interrupted. “She practically begged me to set up an internship for her at one of my hotels this summer.”
Cecily sat back in the lush padded armchair and looked up at the chandelier on the living room ceiling. The family rarely used the living room, but Mr Graves had insisted on hosting the interview in there. He even had more family photos printed and framed. Forced smiles and stiff poses adorned the mantelpiece.
“Well, Mr Graves, I think I have everything I need. If my editor approves everything in the article, I’m hoping for it to be in print and online tomorrow,” she stood, offering her hand to Mr Graves, his wife, and Cecily in turn.
“I’ll walk you out,” he smiled courteously, leading the reporter out of the living room and into the beflowered hallway of his London mansion.
“Really, Mr Graves (and this is off the record now), I’m very impressed with your campaign. At first, I wasn’t sure. But I’ve been following you closely, and I’m thoroughly impressed at how your campaign is gaining momentum. You’ve really done all this independently of a campaign manager?”
“This is off the record?” he clarified. The reporter nodded.
“You’re right, I didn’t have a campaign manager. But I have been working with an associate of sorts.”
“Oh?” the reporter’s curiosity piqued.
“I can’t say much at this stage, but he’s been very much a part of my policy design. And I’m planning to announce him as my political partner at the PIP event this weekend.”
“This is most intriguing, Mr Graves!”
“I should hope so!” Mr Graves trumpeted his forced laugh once again. “It’s very exciting. The truth is, he has some political history of his own that we wanted to omit from this campaign. I wanted my policies to be the spearhead of the party, and for my own candidateship to stand for itself.”
“Very wise. Well, I’m excited to cover the event, and I think readers of The London Citizen will be interested to learn more about your new take on politics.”
“Just as I’m interested to share my views and continue my campaign for a fairer and more prosperous city.”
“Thank you for your time, Mr Graves,” the reporter offered her hand once more and he took it, shaking it a little too long and a little too tight for comfort.