The Complete Yes Minister

‘Yes,’ I replied smoothly, ‘but then something else would have to go by the board. And the other thing that’s taking my time at the moment is forcing through this increase in Councillors’ expenses and allowances. I can’t put my personal weight behind both schemes.’

I waited. There was silence. So I continued. ‘I mean, I suppose I could forget the increased allowances for Councillors and concentrate on the legal obstacles of the art gallery sale.’

There was another silence. This time I waited till one of the others broke it.

Finally Wilkinson spoke. ‘Tricky things – legal obstacles,’ he remarked. I saw at once that he understood my problem.

So did Humphrey. ‘This is a particularly tricky one,’ he added eagerly.

‘And at the end of the day you might still fail?’ asked Wilkinson.

‘Every possibility,’ I replied sadly.

Wilkinson glanced quickly at his fellow Councillors. None of them were in disagreement. I had hit them where they lived – in the wallet.

‘Well, if that’s the way it is, okay,’ Wilkinson was agreeing to leave the art gallery standing. But he was still looking for other ways to implement our scheme because he added cheerfully, ‘There’s a chance we may want to close Edge Hill Road Primary School at the end of the year. That site could fetch a couple of million, give or take.’

The meeting was over. The crisis was over. We all told each other there were no ill-feelings, and Brian and his colleagues agreed that they would make it clear locally that we couldn’t overcome the legal objections.

As he left, Brian Wilkinson told me to carry on the good work.

Humphrey was full of praise. ‘A work of art, Minister. Now, Minister, you have to see the PM at Number Ten to be officially informed of your new responsibilities. And if you’ll excuse me, I have to go and dress.’

‘Another works’ outing?’

‘Indeed,’ he said, without any air of apology.

I realised that, as Minister responsible for the Arts, the Royal Opera House now came within my purview. And I’ve hardly ever been.

‘Um . . . can I come too?’ I asked tentatively.

‘Yes Minister,’ he replied with great warmth.

And we had a jolly good evening – good music, great singing, smart people and some delicious little smoked salmon sandwiches in the Crush Bar.

Maybe I was wrong. The middle classes are entitled to a few perks, aren’t they?

¹ In conversation with the Editors.

² As soon as possible.

21

The Skeleton in the Cupboard

November 16th

An interesting situation emerged today from another meeting to which my old friend Dr Cartwright came.

It was a fairly dull routine meeting to start with, all about local government administration. As Humphrey predicted, our Department was increasing in size, staffing and budget. He is plainly in his element. So far, however, it hasn’t involved much in the way of policy decisions, which is where I come in.

We’d reached item seven on the agenda, and so far it had been pretty uneventful. The only interest had been in Bernard’s pedantic linguistic quibbles, about which he is becoming obsessional.

‘Item seven,’ I asked, ‘what’s it about?’

‘If I may just recapitulate,’ began Sir Humphrey.

Bernard made a little sign and caught my eye.

‘Yes Bernard?’

‘Um – one can’t actually recapitulate an item if one hasn’t started it yet,’ he volunteered.

Sir Humphrey, who doesn’t like to be corrected by anyone, let alone a mere Private Secretary, thanked him coldly and proceeded to complete his sentence, thus demonstrating to Bernard that the correction was both impertinent and unnecessary.

‘Thank you, Bernard, where would we be without you? Minister, may I just, recapitulating on our last meeting and on our submissions which you have doubtless received in your boxes . . .’

I was thoroughly amused, and not paying full attention. ‘Doubtless,’ I interrupted cheerfully, and then realised that I didn’t know what he was talking about. After all, they give me mountains of paper to read virtually every day, I can’t remember everything.

‘Which minutes?’ I asked.

‘On the proposal to take disciplinary action against the South-West Derbyshire County Council.’

I still had no idea what the proposal was. But I didn’t like to admit it, it’s always better to make them think that one is completely on top of the job. So I casually asked Bernard to remind me.

The problem was that the council in question had failed to complete their statutory returns and supply us with the statistical information that the DAA requires.

I asked what we were going to do about it. Apparently a policy decision was required from me. Sir Humphrey offered me assorted alternatives. ‘A rebuke from the Minister, a press statement about their incompetence, withholding various grants and allowances, or, ultimately, as you are no doubt fully aware . . .’

‘Yes, yes,’ I interrupted helpfully.

‘Good,’ he said, and fell silent.

Again I was in a bit of a hole. I had no idea what he’d been about to say. But clearly he was waiting for my comments.

‘I’m fully aware of . . . what?’ I prompted him.

‘What?’