The following story sounds surreal even to myself. But thanks to a random set of circumstances, it happened. Here then, is the Evening Stanners' report on what's it like to meet an influential politician...
Putney Station, located close to the start of the Oxford-Cambridge boat race, is a confusing place. It assures me that the quickest train to Twickenham, where I need to connect with a bus towards Gunnersbury, is on Platform 3. Unfortunately, the train arriving at Platform 4 seems to suggests otherwise. Communication: this place lacks it. So what to do?
Weighing up my options, I decide to make a dash for it: hurtling up the stairs, belting along the footbridge, I worry I might not make it past the oncoming crowds. But a gap is found, and somehow, I make it into the carriage just before the doors close.
If commuters talked at will, they would have said "You jammy dodger!" As it was, the suits around me said little, though eyebrows were raised. Deciding to stand, I looked around what appeared to be an oasis of calm. It took me a while to actually realise just exactly who was facing me.
The trick to being a good politician is to be at ease with the public: to the point that they do not look out of place in a crowd. And on what was effectively his train home, the Right Honourable MP for Twickenham, and the Liberal Democrats' Deputy Leader and Treasury Spokesman, was very much at ease. After all, for a man who warned that allowing the banks to play fast and loose would end in disaster, and who remarked that Gordon Brown had gone from "Stalin to Mr Bean", he is not often under attack for a lack of achievements.
He seemed slightly tired, but steadfastly alert: with one hand on his portfolio, and the other near his rather small suitcase, which made me wonder how on earth he manages to be so efficient. But in a financial climate such as this, perhaps such economising is necessary for all of us.
I of course, had not expected him to be on the train: I am neither paid to follow politicians, or informed of their movements. And in any case, I had caught this particular train by chance in order to get to a party. So naturally, I did what any person would do when they are in the presence of someone who is famous: I mentally dithered. Would it be best to try and shake his hand before the train arrived at Twickenham? Should I just wink at him and then run like a madman to the bus stop? Or perhaps just not do anything?
Unlike my thought train, the actual one was running smoothly: and as we approached Twickenham station, Mr Cable stood up as if to leave. This, then, was a make-or-break moment : would it be best to try and engage in conversation, or simply leave safe in the knowledge that I had been on the train with a relatively well-known politician? Fortunately, Cable was already making the decision for me: he sidled up to the doors, looked me in the eye, and cautiously grinned, as if to say: "You weren't expecting this, I'll bet".
Aaaaaand relax. "It's an honour to meet you, Mr Cable", I said, sounding suspiciously like a Bond villain; fortunately, the handshake was still forthcoming.
"I'm glad to hear it" was the amicable response: his accent hinting at his Yorkshire roots, though he has been living in London for the last 13 years. His appearance is not automatically charming, but there is a definite warmth to him, as we descend into talk about the election.
It is then his turn to be surprised, as I tell him I have watched all three leaders' debates, and the Chancellors' debates too, over the last few weeks. "Have you really?" he asks, suggesting such an exercise, while highly commendable, might be bad for one's health. He seems reasonably pleased about Nick Clegg's performance last night, though he believes it is the first two debates that have really helped to transform the party: something that many would find hard to dispute.
As the train pulls up to the platform, I can't help but remark that this is a very encouraging election with regards to young voters. He heartily agrees: "I know there's a lot of talk about apathy in this country, but I have to say I've seen a lot of interest. I was meeting a group of sixth formers at a technology college in Nottingham, and you would be surprised at how many of them are excited about this election."
I also throw in the point about the need to engage with university students in areas such as Nottingham, especially with regards to crime: he simply nods, but he sounds pleased when I tell him that I've been discussing the need to vote with my friends, particularly on the internet.
It is here that I falter. How exactly do I tell a politician that I would be more encourage to vote for his party if he were leading it? Dodging my own question, I merely say that I am definitely thinking about voting Lib Dem, though of course it is difficult to decide on some issues, particularly over the issue of tuition fees.
"Which university do you study at?" asks Cable; a Cambridge graduate himself, he seems more willing to scrap tuition fees if the finances will allow it, but there is little room for flexibility these days.
"Exeter, Cornwall Campus.", I reply, "Near Falmouth. I think your candidate there is Terrye Teverson?"
"Oh yes, that's right, Terrye" Cable responds immediately. "I'm actually going to be round that way on Tuesday: one last big push before the polls."
The conversation is nearly over: we have reached the ticket barriers. Cable immediately opts for the second one: I try the third, but the machine, annoyingly, refuses to work. Cable gives me a look that seems to suggest that he has had similar problems in his time; but these days, he manages better than most.
"Well, very nice to meet you," he smiles: "Take care".
"The same to you, sir: good luck", I respond, infuriated by Network Rail's incompetence yet again. The chance to get an autograph has clearly gone, but one suspects that would be a bit too much for a man who's been travelling on and off for the past three or four weeks.
And with that, we go our separate ways: both making sure to steer clear of the rather stern-looking woman handing out Conservative leaflets. She seems almost disapproving of Cable's presence: but then, it is not surprising. On this evidence, his ability to leave an impression is remarkable.
All that is left to do is to ring someone in order to tell them the news: though they do not sound quite as impressed as I am about my priceless interview.
"Why didn't you tell him about your blog?" asks my brother Al, with an incisiveness I often lack. Oh well. Maybe next time. For now, all I can do is watch a potential chancellor stride off with a quiet confidence, making me consider my options yet again. Lib Dem, or not Lib Dem?
Chris Stanley (The Evening Stanners)
PS As you can tell, I was quite chuffed to actually meet someone so high-up as Vince Cable: he's certainly very easy to talk to, but then I didn't have a massive camera pointing right in his face! I mentioned the fact that some of you have been really interested about the election, and he seemed quite encouraged: so who knows? I might have shaken hands with a man who'll be at the heart of negotiations over a hung parliament. If there is one, he'll surely be one of the big players.
PPS He's got a remarkably firm handshake, by the way. Not that I couldn't beat him at arm-wrestling, mind.
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