The morning after…
My feet are still on voicemail after yesterday’s 22 hour day.
Every election day has its little highs that keep us going. Like reassuring a Turkish family who wanted to vote for Meral but couldn’t find their poll cards that they could still vote, and seeing them leave for the polling station five minutes later; or recruiting a new deliverer for my old ward 30 minutes before close of poll.
We had a fantastic team out, including my darling parents. Dad is such a charming ‘teller’ that some voters were writing their poll numbers on their hands in biro in order not to let him down.
Meral’s been a great candidate and the whole campaign – a few minor wobbles aside - has been upbeat and well-run.
Generally the atmosphere on polling day is cheery and courteous to the opposition although there was a bit of a ‘rival football fans clash’ feel when we met some Labour activists in the pub. One tired and emotional woman told me “We’re voting for KEN because he’s a SOCIALIST!!”. “So how do you rate Jennette Arnold?” I asked. The reply: “Who’s that?” Our point entirely.
And as the results come in, ‘mayday’ certainly seems to be living up to its name for Labour.
And how was it for us in London NE? As soon as my feet respond, I’m off to the count to find out.
