Suddenly he became his old evasive self. He told me it wasn’t awfully interesting. Again I asked to see it. He held it behind his back like a guilty schoolboy.
Then I had an extraordinary insight. I asked him if the story were true. He claimed he didn’t understand my question. So I asked him, again, clearly, if there had been one word of truth in that amazingly convenient story which he had just told Lucy.
He eyed me, and then enquired slowly and carefully: ‘Do you really want me to answer that question, Minister? Don’t answer hastily.’
It was a good question. A very good question. I could think of no advantage in knowing the truth, if my suspicions were correct. And a huge disadvantage — I would be obliged to be dishonest with Lucy, something I have never done and will never do!
‘No,’ I said after a few moments, ‘um, Humphrey, don’t bother to answer.’
‘Quite so,’ he said, as smug as I’ve ever seen him. ‘Perhaps you would care to note that there
7 Jobs for the Boys
[
I arrived at the office in a rather good mood today. I’d done all my boxes. I was feeling thoroughly on top of the job. I’d handled all my PQs [
I asked Bernard what the broadcast discussion would be about. NATO, I thought. Bernard said that, in fact, it would be about co-partnership in industry.
I knew it was something like that. Some sort of partnership, at any rate.
The discussion would contain the usual compulsory BBC ingredients — one politician, one employer and one trades unionist.
I noticed that the trades unionist in question was Joe Morgan, who had been the TUC representative on the Solihull project. I remarked that this was good, because it meant we could talk about the project on the air.
To my surprise, this rather non-controversial remark was greeted with much anxiety by Sir Humphrey.
‘Minister, you’re not proposing to refer to the Solihull project on the air?’
‘I certainly am,’ I said. ‘It’s a shining example of a successful collaboration between government and private industry.’
‘Why do you say that?’ he asked.
For a moment, I couldn’t think why. Then I remembered. ‘Because you said it was,’ I pointed out. ‘Why? Have you changed your mind?’
‘No,’ he said carefully, ‘but… I would be much happier if you omitted such references from the broadcast.’
‘Why?’ I asked.
He said it was premature. I pointed out that work started on the project six months ago, so it could not possibly be described as premature.
‘Precisely,’ he said, ‘rather out of date in fact.’
Remarkable! Premature
Humphrey amended this foolishness instantly. He simply meant ‘untimely’, he claimed. So again, I asked him
‘What I mean is, don’t you think it will be rather uninteresting to the general public?’ he whined.
I couldn’t see why. It’s an example of partnership in industry that is really happening. Now.
Humphrey seemed to be getting desperate. ‘Quite so, Minister,’ he said. ‘It is
‘What is my main point?’ I asked, suddenly unable to remember.
Humphrey also seemed to go blank. ‘Bernard, what is the Minister’s main point?’
Bernard reminded us. ‘That private projects are more socially responsible with government money, and government projects are more efficient with private investment.’
This was precisely my main point. And reference to the Solihull project will obviously underline it. Humphrey really is a wet blanket. He just goes around stirring up apathy.
But he was still not satisfied. ‘Minister,’ he persisted. ‘I must advise you very seriously with all the earnestness at my command that you do not refer to the Solihull project on the air tomorrow.’