He smiled. I do not want the Queen to break the law, I merely ask the Prime Minister to bend it.
Again I apologised, formally, and said no. He was haughty, magnificent and deeply hurt. He remarked that if the French people ever learn of this rejection they would take it as a national slap in the face. As if there was any doubt that they would learn of it. Personally I believe that the French people (unlike the British) have infinitely more common sense than their leaders, and would do no such thing.
So we returned to the Tunnel. And now the President pressed home the advantage that he thought he had created. As for the Tunnel, you make it very difficult for me. The French people will not accept a second slap in the face. And you are rejecting our very reasonable proposal for French sovereignty up to but not including Dover. But setting that aside, there is also another question: which shall be the langue de prfrence? [First language Ed.]
I went to my desk, ostensibly to pick up a piece of paper and a pen. I slid my left hand beneath the desktop and pressed the buzzer. He didnt notice. Surely, I said reasonably, if half the signs put French first and half English, that would be fair.
Fair, yes, but not logical.
Does logic matter? I asked.
Does the law matter? he responded.
Of course it does, I said. Britain is the only European country without rabies.
Humphrey burst in without knocking. He was carrying the file. Monsieur le Prsident, please forgive me. Prime Minister, I think you should see this urgently.
I sat at my desk. I opened it. I read it. No! I gasped, and stared penetratingly at M. le Prsident. He didnt know what it was, of course. I read on, keeping him in suspense. Then I rose accusingly.
Monsieur le Prsident, Im afraid I have to ask you for an explanation. And I handed him the file full of evidence of the French bomb plot. He read it. His face gave away nothing.
I hope I do not have to explain the gravity of this, I said, very much hoping that I did have to.
No such luck. He looked up from the file. Prime Minister, I am deeply sorry. I must ask you to believe I had no knowledge of this.
Probably he didnt. But I wasnt letting him off the hook. Nor would he have done, in my position. This is an attempt, by guests, to deceive Her Majestys Government. And there is the serious crime of illegally smuggling explosives into the UK.
You must know, he replied reasonably, that the French Government never know what French Security are doing.
You mean you are not responsible for their actions?
This was not what he had meant. He couldnt deny responsibility. No, but if this report is true I must ask you to accept my profound regrets.
The truth of it was easily confirmed. And then Humphrey went in for the kill. You see, it makes it very difficult for the Prime Minister over the Channel Tunnel.
I agreed. When news of this bomb is published the British people will want to concede very little.
Theyll wonder if its safe to go through it! murmured Humphrey.
It might be full of official French bombs, I added.
M. le Prsident and I stared at each other. He remained silent. The ball was in my court. Of course, I suggested, in the interest of Anglo-French friendship we could overlook the crimes of your security men.
He offered to meet me half-way. Literally! I suppose we could agree to sovereignty only half-way across the Channel.
Humphrey made a note, very ostentatiously.
I said: We would like half the signs to place the English language first. And, above all, we want the opening ceremony in two months. In Dover first, and Calais second.
I think that is an excellent idea, he said with a big smile. As an expression of the warmth and trust between our two countries.
We all shook hands.
Show us a draft communiqu at the funeral tomorrow, would you, Humphrey? And make sure that none of the press find out about the bomb plant. Or the labrador puppy. After all, I said, looking pointedly at the President, If one of the stories gets out, the other is bound to as well, isnt it?
Yes, Prime Minister, he said, permitting himself the slightest trace of a smile. The communiqu would make a wholly successful and utterly joyful day out of what was already a very happy occasion!
A CONFLICT OF INTEREST
October 1st
The newspapers this morning made pretty depressing reading. I remarked upon this to Bernard when I met him in my study after breakfast. Theyre all saying that since Ive been in office nothing has changed.
You must be very proud, said Bernard.
I explained to him that it was not a compliment, even though it might appear so from a Civil Service perspective. Ive read ten of Londons morning newspapers, I admitted, which is surely above and beyond the call of duty, and theres not a good word about me in nine of them.
But the tenth is better? queried Bernard, mistaking my implication.
The tenth is worse! I explained. It doesnt mention me at all. [Notoriety is generally preferable to obscurity in the minds of politicians Ed.]
All the papers are basically saying the same thing -- that Im a windbag. I showed Bernard. He was as astonished as I. [Honesty, though doubtless an essential requirement for a successful Private Secretary, must at times be tempered with discretion Ed.]
It is quite extraordinary. The newspapers say that my administration is all rhetoric, that I talk and talk but nothing ever gets done. But its not true -- as I keep saying, there are numerous reforms in the pipeline, a great new change of direction is promised, there are great schemes in development, a whole new philosophy of government, and a profound movement in the whole social fabric and geo-political climate of this country.
Bernard nodded sympathetically. He was in full agreement. So what is actually happening, then? he asked.
Nothing, obviously! Not yet. I was impatient. Rightfully so. After all, these things take time. Rome wasnt built in a day.
The truth is that the origin of this latest absurd burst of criticism is that bloody rumour about another big scandal in the City.
So when Humphrey joined us I told him that I had decided to respond to all this press criticism. The press are demanding action about the scandals in the City. They shall have it!
Humphrey looked interested. What kind of action?
I shall appoint someone, I said firmly. I was glad he didnt ask me who, or for what, because I havent yet worked that out. As a matter of fact, I shall eventually need him to help me work that out.
Instead, he asked me a question that I didnt expect. Prime Minister, when did you make this momentous decision?
This morning, I replied with pride. When I read the papers.
And when did you first think of it? He was courteously cross-examining me.
This morning, I said, suddenly aware that the suddenness of my decision made me look slightly foolish. When I read the papers.
For how long, may I ask, did you consider the pros and cons of this decision? He is sometimes so obvious! He was trying too hard to make me feel that the decision was hasty.
Not long. I was defiant now. I decided to be decisive.
He could see that my decision, though hasty, was right, for he dropped the subject. [A fascinating example of the power of the experienced politician to believe what he wanted or needed to believe Ed.]
Bernard tried to comfort me. Prime Minister, I must say that I think you worry too much about what the papers say.
I smiled at him. How little he knows. Bernard, I said with a weary smile, only a Civil Servant could make that remark. I have to worry about them, especially with the Party Conference looming. These rumours of a City scandal wont go away.
But Humphrey was unflappable. Lets not worry about it until theres something more than a rumour. May I show you the Cabinet agenda?