In 1987, on the 11th of June, there was a General Election in the UK. The Conservative government, under Margaret Thatcher had already served two terms.
The date was significant for me, however, for an entirely different reason. I was very, very pregnant. This was my first (and as it later turned out, only) child.
Being summer, my husband was very busy -- he was a farmer at the time, and the harvest had just started. Mobile phones may have been available, but they weren't in common use, so my mother was staying with us, to ensure that I had the means to get to the hospital if it was urgent.
I started feeling labour pains early on in the day, and by three o'clock, they were strong and close together. Mum bundled me into the car, called Nicholas, and started to drive me to the hospital. On the way I called out "Wait!" and insisted that she stop so I could vote -- I can't remember what threats I used, but they were effective. Mum wasn't happy about it, at all, not least because she wasn't able to vote in my constituency and she and I vote in opposite directions, but I was a very politically aware young woman, and very determined (Some people call me stubborn, and it really isn't a good idea to try to deflect me when I have my mind set on something). She stopped, I voted, and we went on our way.
As it turned out, it was anything but a quick labour, and one of my overriding memories of that night is watching the coverage of the election, as I waited to go to the delivery room. It soon became apparent that the Tories, who I had adamantly voted against, were going to win a landslide victory, something that did nothing to reduce my already extreme pain.
A British tradition, on election night, is to have a satirical comedy programme on, just before coverage turns over excusively to progress reports on the voting. In 1987, it was Spitting Image, and burned into my memory, bright and clear, is the close of that programme, where puppets of the Tory Cabinet stood, dressed in the uniform of the Hitler Jugend, exactly like the film of "Cabaret, and bellowed out "Tomorrow belongs to me". You had to laugh or cry.
I'm still proud of myself that I came down on the side of laughter, given all the circumstances.