But I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that the PM just wants to make absolutely sure. Frank told me not to be paranoid, but I think
‘We’re on your side, Minister.’ Sir Humphrey was trying to be comforting. Life is full of surprises!
Then I had an idea. I suddenly realised that Martin will be on my side. I can’t imagine why I didn’t think of it before. He’s Foreign Secretary – and, to my certain knowledge, Martin is genuinely pro-Europe. (Humphrey calls him ‘naïf’). Also I ran his campaign against the PM, and he only stands to lose if I’m squeezed out.
We’ve arranged a meeting with him on Monday, at the House. I can’t think
All is well. The battle is won. My career, Humphrey’s career, and the DAA have all been saved by a brilliant piece of political opportunism, of which I am extremely proud. Plus a little bit of luck, of course. But it’s been a very satisfactory day.
We all gathered conspiratorially at Martin’s office. He was full of his usual second-rate witticisms.
‘You’ve done a Samson act, Jim.’
I, presumably, looked blank.
‘You see, you wanted to reduce the Civil Service, and you’ve done it. You’ve pulled the whole superstructure down – and buried yourself.’
I didn’t know whether I was supposed to smile, or congratulate him on his wit, or what.
Sir Humphrey, of course, couldn’t wait to join the analogy game. ‘A Pyrrhic victory,’ he intoned mournfully, presumably to remind us all that he is a classicist.
‘Any ideas?’ I asked Martin.
He had none. So we all had another of our tremendous gloomy silences.
Frank, fortuitously as it turned out, continued worrying away at the puzzle of why the PM wanted to introduce a Europass. ‘I don’t understand it. It doesn’t make sense. Why can’t the PM see the damage it’s going to do to the government?’
I agreed, and remarked that this Europass thing is the worst disaster to befall the government since I was made a member of the Cabinet. [
Martin was quite calm about the Europass. ‘Everyone knows it won’t happen,’ he said.
Who does he mean by ‘everyone’? I certainly didn’t know it wouldn’t happen – but then, I didn’t even know it
‘The PM,’ continued Martin, ‘has to play along with it till after the Napoleon Prize is awarded.’
Apparently the Napoleon Prize is a NATO award, given once every five years. A gold medal, big ceremony in Brussels, and £100,000. The PM is the front runner. It’s awarded to the statesman who has made the biggest contribution to European unity since Napoleon. [
‘The award committee meets in six weeks,’ said Martin, ‘and so obviously the PM doesn’t want to rock the boat until it’s in the bag.’
I think I caught Bernard mumbling to himself that you don’t put boats in bags, but it was very quiet, I might have misheard, and he refused to repeat what he’d said which makes me think I didn’t mishear at all.
‘And,’ said Martin, reaching the point at last, ‘once the prize is won, the PM will obviously dump the Europass.’
I had this wonderful idea. I couldn’t quite articulate it. It was slowly forming in the back of my mind. But first I needed some answers.
‘Martin,’ I asked. ‘How many people know about the winner of the Napoleon Prize?’
‘It’s top secret,’ he said. Naturally, I was disappointed. Top secret means that everyone knows.
But not this time, apparently. ‘
I was now so excited that I was becoming incoherent. ‘Don’t you see?’ I said. ‘Backbenchers . . . leaks . . .’
A puzzled Humphrey asked me if I were referring to the Welsh Nationalist Party.
And at that moment God was on my side. The door opened, and in stepped Dr Donald Hughes. He apologised, and said he’d return later, but I stopped him. I told him that he was the very man I wanted to see, that I wanted his advice, and invited him to take a pew.
He pretended that he was eager to help me. But he warned that if it were a case of shutting stable doors after horses have bolted, even he would be powerless to help. I said, flatteringly, that I’m sure that he would not be powerless. I put it to him that I was in a serious moral dilemma – which, of course, I invented at that very moment.
My dilemma was this, I said. I told Hughes that I knew that a backbencher was planning to table a question to the PM about whether or not the Europass is to be adopted by Britain.
Hughes was immediately jumpy. ‘Which backbencher? The Europass is top secret.’
‘Like the winner of the Napoleon Prize?’ I asked.
