The Complete Yes Minister

[Appleby Papers NG/NDB/FX GOP]

October 11th

Good news and bad news today. Good on balance. But there were a few little crises to be resolved.

I was due to have a meeting with my local committee about the Aston Wanderers/Art Gallery situation.

But Humphrey arrived unexpectedly and demanded an urgent word with me. I told him firmly that my mind was made up. Well, it was – at that stage!

‘Even so, Minister, you might be interested in a new development. The government reshuffle.’

This was the first I’d heard of a reshuffle. A couple of weeks ago he’d said it would be just a reorganisation.

‘Not just a reorganisation, Minister. A reorganisation. And I’m delighted to say it has brought you new honour and importance. In addition to your existing responsibilities, you are also to be the Cabinet Minister responsible for the Arts.’

This was good news indeed. I was surprised that he’d been told before I had been, but it seems he was with the Cabinet Secretary shortly after the decision was taken.

I thanked him for the news, suggested a little drinkie later to celebrate, and then told him that I was about to start a meeting.

‘Quite so,’ he said. ‘I hope you have considered the implications of your new responsibilities on the project you are discussing.’

I couldn’t at first see what rescuing a football club had to do with my new responsibilities. And then the penny dropped! How on earth would it look if the first action of the Minister for the Arts was to knock down an art gallery?

I told Bernard to apologise to the Councillors, and to say that I was delayed or something. I needed time to think!

So Humphrey and I discussed the art gallery. I told him that I’d been giving it some thought, that it was quite a decent little gallery, an interesting building, Grade II listed, and that clearly it was now my role to fight for it.

He nodded sympathetically, and agreed that I was in a bit of a fix. Bernard ushered in the Councillors – Brian Wilkinson leading the delegation, plus a couple of others – Cllrs Noble and Greensmith.

I had no idea, quite honestly, what I was going to say to them. I ordered Humphrey to stay with me, to help.

‘This is my Permanent Secretary,’ I said.

Brian Wilkinson indicated Bernard. ‘You mean he’s only a temp?’ Bernard didn’t look at all pleased. I couldn’t tell if Brian was sending him up or not.

I was about to start the meeting with a few cautious opening remarks when Brian plunged in. He told me, with great enthusiasm, that it was all going great. All the political parties are with the plan. The County Council too. It was now unstoppable. All he needed was my Department’s approval for using the proceeds from the sale of the art gallery as a loan to the club.

I hesitated. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Well – um . . . there is a snag.’

Wilkinson was surprised. ‘You said there weren’t any.’

‘Well, there is.’ I couldn’t elaborate on this terse comment because I just couldn’t think of anything else to say.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

My mind was blank. I was absolutely stuck. I said things like ‘apparently . . . it seems . . . it has emerged,’ and then I passed the buck, ‘I think Sir Humphrey can explain it better,’ I said desperately.

All eyes turned to Sir Humphrey.

‘Um . . . well. It just can’t be done, you see,’ he said. It looked for a dreadful moment that he was going to leave it at that – but then, thank God, inspiration struck. ‘It’s because the art gallery is a trust. Terms of the original bequest. Or something,’ he finished lamely.

I picked up the ball and carried on running with it, blindly. ‘That’s it,’ I agreed emphatically, ‘a trust. We’ll just have to find something else to knock down. A school. A church. A hospital. Bound to be something,’ I added optimistically.

Councillor Brian Wilkinson’s jaw had dropped. ‘Are we supposed to tell people that you’ve gone back on your word? It was your idea to start with.’

‘It’s the law,’ I whined, ‘not me.’

‘Well, why didn’t you find this out till now?’

I had no answer. I didn’t know what to say. I broke out in a cold sweat. I could see that this could cost me my seat at the next election. And then dear Bernard came to the rescue.

He was surreptitiously pointing at a file on my desk. I glanced at it – and realised that it was the gobbledegook amending Regulation 7 of the Amendment of Regulations Act regulating the Regulation of the Amendments Act, 1066 and all that.

But what was it all about? Cash for Councillors? Of course!

My confidence surged back. I smiled at Brian Wilkinson and said, ‘Let me be absolutely frank with you. The truth of the matter is, I might be able to get our scheme through. But it would take a lot of time.’

Wilkinson interrupted me impatiently. ‘Okay, take the time. We’ve spent enough.’