The Complete Yes Minister полностью

And the figures are impressive. They have the lowest truancy record in the Midlands, the lowest administrative costs per council house, the lowest ratio in Britain of council workers to rate income, and a clean bill of public health with the lowest number of environmental health officers.²

And that’s not all. It seems that virtually all the children can read and write, despite their teachers’ efforts to give them a progressive education. ‘And,’ Cartwright finished up, ‘they have the smallest establishment of social workers in the UK.’

From the way he reported this fact I gathered he thought that this was a good thing. I enquired further.

‘Oh yes. Very good. Sign of efficiency. Parkinson’s Law of Social Work, you see. It’s well known that social problems increase to occupy the total number of social workers available to deal with them.’

It was at this critical juncture that Sir Humphrey burst into Cartwright’s office. I believe that his arrival in Cartwright’s office at that moment was no coincidence.

We had a pretty stilted conversation.

‘Oh, Minister! Good Heavens!’

‘Oh. Hello Humphrey!’

‘Hello Minister.’

‘What a coincidence.’

‘Yes. Indeed. What a surprise.’

‘Yes.’

‘Yes.’

For some reason he was making me feel guilty, and I found myself trying to explain my presence there.

‘I was just, er, passing.’

‘Passing?’

‘Yes. Passing.’

‘Passing. I see.’ He considered my explanation for a moment. ‘Where were you going?’

I was trapped. I had no idea what else was on Cartwright’s floor. I decided to be vague.

‘Oh,’ I said airily, ‘I was just going . . . past.’ I said it as if ‘past were a specific place to go. ‘Past the door,’ I added. I was aware that I sounded fearfully unconvincing but I blundered on. ‘Cartwright’s – Richard’s door. Dick’s door. So I thought “hello”!’

‘And then did you think anything further?’ He is relentless.

‘Yes. I thought, why should I just pass the door? I might as well . . . open it.’

‘Good thinking, Minister. That’s what doors are for.’

‘Quite.’ I summoned up my courage and finally got to the point. ‘And I’d remembered one or two points I wanted to clear up.’

‘Good. What points?’

I couldn’t see why I should tell him. Or why I shouldn’t be in Cartwright’s office. Or why he was successfully making me feel guilty? Or why he should consider that he had the right to approve everything that the DAA staff say to me. He behaves as though they are his staff, not mine. [They were – Ed.]

But I also couldn’t see how not to answer him.

‘Oh, just some odd points,’ I replied finally, making a suitably vague gesture.

He waited. Silence. Then he repeated it. ‘Just some odd points.’

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘How odd?’ he asked.

‘Well it’s not all that odd,’ I said, argumentatively, wilfully misunderstanding him. ‘We had a meeting yesterday, didn’t we?’

Sir Humphrey was now tired of the fencing.

‘Minister, may I have a word with you?’

‘Certainly,’ I said, ‘as soon as Richard and I have . . .’

He interrupted. ‘I mean now.’

Now it was my turn to embarrass him a little. ‘Okay. Go ahead.’ I knew he wouldn’t want to talk in front of one of his juniors.

‘Upstairs, Minister, in your office if you please.’

‘But I’m sure Richard doesn’t mind.’

‘Upstairs, Minister. I’m sure Dr Cartwright can spare you for a few moments.’

Cartwright missed the heavy sarcasm completely. ‘Oh yes,’ he said with an obliging smile.

Sir Humphrey opened the door. Having been made to feel like a naughty schoolboy, I marched out of Cartwright’s office.

I wonder how he knew I was in that office. I know Bernard wouldn’t have told him, so somebody must have seen me and reported it. I might as well be in the Soviet Union. Somehow I’ve got to get my freedom – but that involves winning the psychological war against Humphrey. And somehow, he always manages to make me feel guilty and unsure of myself.

If only I could find a chink in his armour. If I ever do, he’s had it!

Anyway, that tense little sparring match in Cartwright’s office wasn’t the end of the matter. A few minutes later, back in my office after an icy silent journey up in the lift and along the endless corridors, the row came to a head.

He told me that I cannot just go around talking to people in the Department, and expressed the sincere hope that such a thing would not occur again.

I could scarcely believe my ears. I ordered him to explain himself.

‘Minister, how can I advise you properly if I don’t know who’s saying what to whom? I must know what’s going on. You simply cannot have completely private meetings. And what if you’re told things that aren’t true?’

‘If they’re not true you can put me right.’

‘But they may be true.’

‘In that case . . .’ I began triumphantly. He interrupted me, correcting himself hastily.

‘That is, not entirely false. But misleading. Open to misinterpretation.’

I faced him with a straight question. ‘The fact is, you’re just trying to keep things from me, aren’t you, Humphrey?’