The Complete Yes Minister полностью

Equally, you have to be careful that, in their eagerness to find something, they don’t cook up anything too damn silly. After all, I’ve got to actually get up and say it.

Most civil servants can’t write speeches. But they can dig up a plum for me (occasionally) and, without fail, they should warn me of any possible banana skins.

Today I planned to make a sort of generalised speech on the environment, which I’m doing a lot of recently and which seems to go down well with everyone.

Hacker was persuaded to pose for the above photograph against his better jugement, because he was unwilling to appear ‘a bad sport’ in public. He subsequently had the photograph suppressed but it was released under the Thirty-year Rule (DAA Archives)

At the City Farm we were met by a brisk middle-class lady called Mrs Phillips. She was the Warden of the City Farm. My party simply consisted of me, Bill Pritchard of the press office, and Bernard.

We were asked to drive up to the place two or three times in succession, so that the television crew could film us arriving.

The third time seemed to satisfy them. Mrs Phillips welcomed me with a singularly tactless little speech: words to the effect of ‘I’m so grateful that you could come, we tried all sorts of other celebrities but nobody else could make it.’

I turned to the cameraman from the BBC and told him to cut. He kept filming, impertinent little man. I told him again, and then the director said cut so he finally did cut. I instructed the director to cut Mrs Phillips’ tactless little speech right out.

‘But…’ he began.

‘No buts,’ I told him. ‘Licence fee, remember.’ Of course I said it jokingly, but we both knew I wasn’t joking. The BBC is always much easier to handle when the licence fee is coming up for renewal.

I think he was rather impressed with my professionalism and my no-nonsense attitude.

We went in.

I realised that I didn’t know too much about City Farms. Furthermore, people always like to talk about themselves and their work, so I said to Mrs Phillips — who had a piglet in her arms by this time — ‘Tell me all about this.’

‘This is a piglet,’ she replied. Asinine woman. Or perhaps I should say piginine.[34]

I told her to tell me about the farm. She said that there are over fifty such City Farms, built on urban wasteland to give children who seldom see the countryside a chance to understand livestock and food production. A wonderful idea.

I was photographed with Mrs Phillips, meeting the staff, with the children and with the piglets. [Everybody’s a ham — Ed.] Then it was time for my speech.

There was a moment of slight embarrassment when I realised Bernard had given me the wrong speech, but that was soon overcome.

SIR BERNARD WOOLLEY RECALLS:[35]

Slight embarrassment does not begin to describe the general reaction to Hacker’s speech.

There was confusion over who had the copy of his speech, I or he. I distinctly remembered giving it to him. He denied it, and demanded I look in my briefcase. There was indeed a speech for him there. And he grabbed it and read it.

[The speech has been found in the DAA archives, and we reprint it below — Ed.]

Yes, indeed, Hacker had insisted on reading the speech that we had put into my briefcase after his address to the Architectural Association on the issue of high-rise buildings.

There was an embarrassed pause, while I whispered to him that he had today’s speech. He felt in his inside pocket, found the City Farm speech, and began to read.

Unfortunately, this only increased the already considerable embarrassment.

[Hacker’s diary continues — Ed.]

After my speech I was interviewed by Sue Lawley for Nationwide, surrounded by kids and animals as previously arranged with Bill.

While they were positioning everyone for the cameras, Mrs Phillips asked me if she could really rely on my support. I told her that of course she could. She then explained that their lease was running out at the end of the year, and they needed to get it extended.

I couldn’t involve myself too directly. I had gone there to get some personal publicity, and I’m not fully acquainted with all their circumstances. So I pointed out that this lease was not really within my sphere of influence, but that I would do what I could to help the City Farm movement flourish. This I was careful to state only in the most general terms.

Then the interview began, just as a very grubby smelly child of indeterminate sex with a sticky lollipop in its mouth was placed on my knee. I tried to show pleasure instead of disgust — which I fear would have been my natural expression.