House of Cards (11 page)

'Answer the bloody question,' came the irreverent growl from below the gangway on the Opposition benches, which was immediately echoed by several Members around the interrupter. Kendrick was no longer alone.

‘I
shall answer the question in my own way and in my own time,' snapped the Prime Minister. It is a pathetic sham for the Opposition to whine on about such matters when they know that electors have reached their own conclusions and only recently voted with their feet for this Government. They support us and I can repeat our determination to protect them and their hospital service
’

Increasingly rude shouts of disapproval began to rise from the Opposition benches, most of which would go unrecorded by Hansard but which were clearly audible to the Prime Minister. His own backbenchers began to shift uneasily, uncertain as to why Collingridge did not simply reaffirm often stated party policy.

The House will be aware that it is not the custom of Governments to discuss the specifics of new spending plans in advance, and we shall make an announcement about our intentions at the appropriate time
’

You
have. You've bloody dropped it, haven't you?' the Honourable and usually disrespectful Member for Newcastle West shouted, so loudly that even Hansard could not claim to have missed it.

The Opposition Front Bench smiled and chuckled, beginning to appreciate that the Prime Minister's increasingly taut smile hid inner turmoil. The Leader of the Opposition, not six feet from where Collingridge stood, turned to his nearest colleague and whispered loudly. T)o you know I think he's fluffed it. He's running away!' Opposition Members began taunting him from all around, slapping their thighs and chortling like old hags around a guillotine.

The tension and pain of a thousand such encounters in the House welled up inside Collingridge. He was unprepared for this. He could not bring himself to admit the truth, yet neither could he lie to the House, and he could find no form of words which would tread that delicate line between honesty and outright deceit. As he observed the sneers and smugness on the faces in front of him and listened to their jeers, he remembered all the many lies they had told about him in the past, the cruelty they had shown and the tears they had caused his wife to shed. As he gazed at the sea of waving Order Papers and contorted faces just a few feet in front of him, his patience vanished. He had to bring it to an end, and he no longer cared how. He threw his hands in the air.

‘I
don't have to take comments like that from a pack of dogs
’
he snarled, and sat down.

Even before the shout of triumph and rage had a chance to r
ise from the Opposition benches,
Kendrick was back on his feet.

'On a point of order, Mr Speaker. The Prime Minister's remarks are an absolute disgrace. I asked a perfectly straightforward question about why the Prime Minister had reneged on his election promise to patients and nurses, and all I have got are insults and evasion. While I understand the Prime Minister's reluctance to admit to the House that he has perpetrated a gigantic and disgraceful fraud, is there nothing you can do to protect the right of Members of this House to get a straight answer to a straight question?'

A roar of approval grew from Opposition members as the Speaker struggled to be heard above the commotion. "The Honourable Member, although he is new, seems already to have developed a sharp eye for parliamentary procedure, in which case he will know that I am no more responsible for the content or tone of the Prime Minister's replies than I am for the questions which are put to him. Next business!'

As the Speaker tried to move matters on, a red-faced Collingridge rose and strode angrily out of the Chamber, gesticulating for the Chief Whip to follow him. The very unparliamentary taunt of 'Coward!' rang after
him
across the floor. From the Government benches there was an uncertain silence.

'How in Christ's name did he know? How did that son-of-a-bitch
know?'

The door had barely closed upon the Prime Minister's .office just off the rear of the Chamber when the screaming began. The normally suave exterior of Her Majesty's
First Minister had been drawn back to reveal a wild Warwickshire ferret.

'Francis, it's simply not good enough. It's not bloody good enough I tell you. We get the Chancellor's report in Cabinet Committee yesterday, the full Cabinet discusses it for the first time today, and by this afternoon it's known to every snivelling creep in the Opposition. Less than two dozen Cabinet Ministers knew, only a handful of civil servants knew, but now every single Member of the Opposition knows. Who leaked it, Francis, who? I'm damned if I know, but you're Chief Whip and I want you to find out who the hell it was.'

Urquhart breathed a huge sigh of relief. Until the Prime Minister's outburst he had no idea if the finger of blame was already pointing at him, and the last couple of minutes had been distinctly uncomfortable.

It simply astonishes me that one of our Cabinet colleagues would want deliberately to leak something like this,' Urquhart began, implicitly ruling out the possibility of a civil service leak and narrowing the circle of suspicion to include each and every one of his Cabinet colleagues.

They've got us by the balls now, and it's going to hurt. Whoever is responsible had humiliated me, and I want him out, Francis. I want-I insist- that you find the worm. And men I want him fed to the crows.'

I'm afraid there's been too much bickering amongst our colleagues since the election. Too many of them seem to want someone else's job.'

‘I
know they all want
my
job, damn them, but who would be so - cretinous
...'
— the words were spat out — 'as to deliberately leak something like that?'

‘I
can't say for sure, Prime Minister.'

'Can't you even give me an educated guess, for Chris-sake?'

That would not be fair.'

'Life's not fair, Francis. Tell me about it.'

'But
...'

‘
No "buts", Francis. If it's happened once it can and almost certainly will happen again. Accuse, imply, whatever you damned well like. There are no minutes being taken here. But I want some names!' Collingridge kicked a chair in frustration.

If you insist, I'll speculate. But I hope
I’ll
not live to regret anything I'm going to say. I know nothing for sure, you understand
...
let's work from deduction. Given die time scale involved, it seems more likely to have leaked from yesterday's Cabinet Committee rather than from today's full Cabinet. Agreed?'

Collingridge nodded his assent.

'And apart from you and me, who is on that Committee?'

'Chancellor of the Exchequer, Financial Secretary, Health, Education, Environment, Trade and Industry.' The Prime Minister reeled off those Cabinet Ministers who had attended.

Urquhart remained silent, forcing Collingridge to finish off the logic himself. 'Well, the two Treasury Ministers were scarcely likely to leak the fact that they had screwed it up. But Health bitterly opposed it, so Peter McKenzie had a reason to leak it. Harold Earle at Education has always had a loose lip. And Michael Samuel has a habit of enjoying the company of the media rather too much for my liking.'

The shadowy suspicions which lurk in a Prime Minister's mind were being brought into the light, and Urquhart relished the spectacle as he watched the seed of accusation grow alongside Collingridge's insecurity.

There are other possibilities, but I think them unlikely,' Urquhart joined in. 'As you know Michael is very close to Teddy Williams. They discuss everything together. It could have come out of party headquarters. Not from Teddy, I mean, but one of the officials there. They can be as tight-lipped as drunken Glaswegians on a Friday night.'

Collingridge pondered this possibility for some moments in silence. 'Could it really have been Teddy?' he mused.
'Et tu, Brute!
Could that really be, Francis? He was never my greatest supporter - we're from different generations - but I made him one of the team. Now surely not this?'

Urquhart was delighted at the effect his words were having on his battered leader, who sat grey and tired in his chair, staring ahead, lost in surmise and suspicion.

‘P
erhaps I have relied on him too much recently. I thought he had no axe to grind, no real ambition in the House of Lords. One of the loyal old guard. Was I wrong, Francis?'

‘
I
simply don't know. You asked me to speculate. I can do no more at this stage.'

'Make sure, Franci
s. I want him, whoever he is.'

With that the Prime Minister announced open season, and Urquhart felt himself back on the heather moors of his childhood, gun in hand, waiting for the bucks to appear.

FRIDAY 16
th
JULY -THURSDAY 22
nd
JULY

The life of the House of Commons is arduous and little appreciated. Long hours, heavy workloads, too much entertaining and too little respite ensure that the long summer break beckons to all Members like an oasis in a desert. As they approach closer to the oasis during the dog days of July, their thirst and their irritability increase, particularly after the exhaustion of an early summer election campaign.

During the next couple of weeks, Urquhart was prominent in moving steadily around the corridors and bars of the House, trying to bolster morale and calm the doubts of many Government backbenchers about Collingridge's increasingly scratchy performance. Morale is easier to shatter than to rebuild, and some old hands thought that Urquhart was trying perhaps a little too hard, his high profile serving to remind many that the Prime Minister was in especial need of support at a time when he should have been dominating events. But if it were a fault, it was one they recognised as aggressive loyalty in the Chief Whip. In any event, the end of the Session was only a week hence and the grapes of the South of France would soon be washing away much of the parliamentary cares.

It was because of this safety valve of August that Governments have developed the knack of making difficult announcements on the last day of the Session by means of Written Answers published in Hansard, the voluminous official report of parliamentary proceedings. Statements of Government intent can be placed openly and clearly on the public record, but at a time when most Members are packing up their desks rather than poring over the endless pages of Hansard, and when in any event there is little time or opportunity to make a fuss. The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth - so long as you read the fine print.

Which is why it was most unfortunate that a photocopy of a draft Written Answer from the Secretary of State for Defence informing the House of substantial cuts in the Territorial Army on the grounds that they were increasingly less relevant in the nuclear era should have been found, a full ten days before it was due to be published, lying under a chair in Annie's Bar where Members and journalists congregate to exchange views and gossip. It was still more unfortunate that it was found by the lobby correspondent of the
Independent,
because everybody liked and respected him, and he knew how to check the story out. When the story was reported as the lead item in the
Independent
four days later at the start of the final full week of the Parliamentary Session, people knew that it was reliable.

Stories of 'cuts' are nothing new for Governments to deal with. If they maintain spending at existing levels while new and inevitably more expensive techniques for performing the task are discovered, they are accused of 'cuts'. If they increase expenditure in vital areas, but not as much as the self-appointed 'experts' require, they are still accused of 'cuts'. If they shift resources from one area to another, once again the accusations of 'cuts' fly. But should they dare make actual 'cuts' in any area other than their own salary levels, retribution is swift.

Retribution on this occasion came from unusual sources. While Territorial Army pay is not large, their numbers are great and they represent important votes to Government Members of Parliament. Moreover, throughout the higher echelons of the Government's constituency parties up and down the country could be found prominent figures with the initials
‘
TD' after their names - Territorial Decoration' - someone who has served in, respects and will defend The Terrors to their last drop of writing ink.

Thus it was that, when the House gathered next to discuss forthcoming Parliamentary Business with the Leader of the House, the air was heavy with the midsummer heat, made more oppressive by the accusations of betrayal and emotional appeals for a change of course which on this occasion were corning from the Government benches, while the Opposition sat back like enthusiastic and very contented Roman lions watching the Christians do all the work for them.

The Right Honourable Sir Jasper Grainger, OBE, JP, TD, was on his feet. The old man proudly sported a carefully ironed regimental tie along with a heavy three piece tweed suit, refusing to compromise his personal standards in spite of the inadequate air-conditioning. And as the elected Chairman" of the Backbench Defence Committee, his words carried enormous weight.