“For god’s sake, what is it with these people? How do they think we can go to the country and ask them to swallow all the cuts we’re going to have to make, to welfare, education, the NHS, if we can’t even make reasonable cuts to our own expenditure first?”
“Stand firm, you’ve told them you want more savings, make sure you get them. How they manage to do that is of no concern to you,” Nigel replied.
“Of no concern to me, how can that possibly be the case?”
“It’s the privilege of your position, you give the orders and let others worry about the detail,” Nigel shrugged as he spoke.
“That’s ridiculous, the Treasury is a team, I’m not some remote dictator sending my foot soldiers off to war.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that you were…calm down. You did the job for long enough to know how it is, directives filter down from above and responsibility is shared out. But you are the one the PM sees, and it’s ultimately your job on the line if some minion further down the chain screws up.”
“Very reassuring Nigel, thanks for that,” Andrew snapped.
“I’m going to choose to take that, rather sarcastic comment, as a compliment, thank you.”
“Urghh,” Andrew groaned once more. “I’m being unfair, sorry Nigel. I just know what’s coming, and arguments over staples seem insignificant when we’re going to be asking the public for pay freezes and redundancies.”
Andrew sat down at his desk, his body weary and his head thumping, and it was only midday.
“What time do you see the PM?” Nigel asked.
Andrew looked at his watch. “Two o’clock. I better get started on collating the material from this morning’s meeting.”
“I’ll leave you to it. I’m going out to grab a sandwich, you want something bringing back?” Nigel asked, heading for the door.
“Yes, please, the usual would be great. Thanks mate,” Andrew said.
Nigel waved a hand in acknowledgement. It had become part of their working routine, Nigel organising food, whether it was from the canteen or elsewhere, and Andrew was grateful to his friend for taking the lead. He would never have been able to ask Nigel to fetch his dinner because, well, because he was Nigel, his best friend, and it simply felt wrong. For all Andrew knew, Nigel probably left his office and simply asked one of the many cubicle workers to go and do his bidding. But it did at least paper over a potentially awkward moment.
Andrew flicked through the papers on the table, it wasn’t going to be enough, these meagre savings. He huffed inwardly, how had several million pounds become an insignificant amount? But that was indeed what it was, by the next financial quarter he had no doubt they would be officially in recession, with no glimmer of hope at the end of the tunnel. It was going to be a long and painful few years, for the government, for the economy, for the country and its people. Not to mention the rest of Europe, the USA and beyond.
Government was going through the motions just so they could say, look, we’ve put our house in order, we’ve decided to stick to staples instead of paper clips, now you, people of the UK, it’s your turn to economise. We all have to do our bit, after all, Andrew mused, we’re all in this together.
*****
The meeting had progressed much as expected with Prime Minister Blackthorn. The discussion over areas for future financial cuts, and how deep they would need to be, was terrifying. Andrew and his colleagues had argued back and forth, each cabinet Minister adamant that they could not take a further cut in funding. The Chancellor had lost count of the amount of times he and Blackthorn had told them that the cost cutting exercise was not optional, and that they needed to work together to ensure they economised wisely. If they refused to do so then they would simply impose a budget that they would have to make work. It had been an extremely long day, and almost impossible to believe that just two days earlier he’d been full of such joy and excitement as he married Molly. In fact, he was convinced, that it was the thought of eventually returning to her that had helped him survive it. As soon as he opened the door to their house he exhaled long and hard. Not that it had taken long for him to leave the Treasury and make his way back to the Chancellor’s residence, but he felt obliged to maintain a conversation with the special branch officer assigned to him, for the entire journey. Thus he couldn’t really switch off until he closed the door behind him, and even then it wasn’t technically their house. It was such a grown up place that he and Molly had been almost afraid to live in it for several months; they’d gently closed the fridge door instead of kicking it closed with their foot, and they’d felt obliged to puff up the scatter cushions on the sofa every time they moved, as if to eradicate their presence. But no more, just in time they’d realised the depth of their paranoia, when Andrew had knocked over a glass of red wine. They’d both clung to each other in shock as they’d panicked over what to do, until they’d dissolved into laughter at their own absurdity. Now, they were more relaxed, they’d never be completely comfortable as, after all, it was not their house, but they had at least started to treat it more like a home, no matter how temporary the arrangement.
“Andrew, is that you?” Molly shouted, more to let him know she was in the lounge, than to actually enquire as to whom had just entered the house.
Andrew smiled, he was pleased she’d waited up for him, his mind was too wired, sleep would not be possible for several hours, no matter how exhausted he felt.
“Hey,” he said, taking just a moment to look at his wife, her eye’s slightly red, her hair at an odd angle, she’d obviously fallen asleep on the couch.
She stretched a hand over the back of the sofa for him to take, as he walked around it and sat down beside her. He kissed the top of her head as she snuggled down into his arms.
“You feel like work,” she murmured, “All cold and official.”
“Good grief, if you see me like that I hate to think what the voters view me as,” he laughed as he spoke.
She slapped him playfully on the chest. “You know what I mean, you’re chilled from outside and there is no comfort trying to cuddle into a shirt and tie.”
“Well, you feel warm and cosy, so I’m sure some of your body heat will rub off.”
Molly giggled. “Listen to us, an old married couple already. I should be suggesting all sorts of ways to heat you up right now.”
“Yes,” Andrew replied, “you should. But then the glow of your beauty is enough to light my fire.”
“Yeah, that must be it,” Molly answered, her silver laughter mixing with his guffaw. “As small talk has never been your strong part darling, might I suggest you take me upstairs and ravish me until we’re both suitably…glowing.”
“Yes, you may,” Andrew replied, as his wife slipped from his lap and led him by the hand upstairs to their bedroom.
Later that evening, or technically early the next morning Andrew lay and watched the rise and fall of Molly’s chest and felt an almost overwhelming need to protect her, care for her every need, and never to be found wanting in her eyes. The strength of his feelings for her, in that moment, had terrified him. What if something were to happen to her? His senses seemed to be in overdrive, his body fizzing with the need to be active, while his rational mind told him his perspective would be returned, undamaged, to him in the morning. Still, he couldn’t relax and decided to go downstairs for a cup of cocoa, or, more realistically, a brandy; but as he tried to slip form the sheets, Molly stirred.
”Where are you going?” she asked.
“Just downstairs for a bit, I can’t sleep, there’s just too much whirring around in here.” He touched his forehead.
Molly pulled him back in toward her and laid her head on his shoulder. “Can you talk about it?”
Tell her that he was afraid if he left her side something would happen to her and their life, their perfect life together, would end? Now that the night had been punctuated with speech clarity was returning to his mind and so he opened his mouth and a thought formed which had been there al
l day he supposed, it had just never taken shape, until now.
“Yeah, I suppose so, it’s not any one thing, it’s just…I’m not being very clear.” He started again, “When I met the Prime Minister, with the rest of the cabinet, this afternoon, I presented the proposed financial savings we could make as a government, in cutting red tape, disbanding the odd quango, and the like, and then we got down to the serious stuff-”
“What do you mean the serious stuff?” Molly interrupted.
“Well, those sorts of savings are really just all smoke and mirrors, it’s nothing in comparison with the vast savings we, as a government, have to make, but we do them because we have to be seen to be putting our own house in order, as it were.” Andrew paused to order his thoughts. “But then, we sat and it was like the deficit was shared out into chunks of billions of pounds and we kept shuffling the sums around, like pieces on a chess board. The funding for Education and the NHS has to be protected, because the public won’t stomach cuts there, so how do we make them anyway without it looking as though we are? They each have their own individual chess boards, with pieces fighting their way around. And then it’s like, well we still have to claw back this money, so let’s take X, Y, and Z, from here. And in the end it sort of becomes like a game, a puzzle to be solved, with no real attachment to the subject or any real consideration of the consequences. Do you see?”
“I’m afraid I don’t, I’m not sure what you mean.” He could just make out the frown on her face in the semi-darkness.
“It became a paper exercise, without any link to reality. All I saw were figures, amounts, not people.”
“But surely that’s what it has to be, or how would you ever be able to make the tough decisions,” Molly argued, fully awake now.
“You’re right, I know, I just swore I’d never be one of those politicians.”
“What politicians?”
“You know, the sort that is charged with not living in the real world, and having no idea what it’s like for ordinary people.”
“Darling, I think the fact that you are worried about becoming like that shows that you never will. You have too much warmth and empathy,” Molly reassured him.
Andrew held her a little closer. “You think so?”
“I do, because if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be you, and you are you, because that’s why I love you.” She finished off the statement with a kiss on his chest. “Now go to sleep.”
“I love you Molls,” he whispered into her hair, receiving a grunt in response.
Chapter twenty-three
“Sorry I’m late Josie,” Andrew said, as he quickly kissed his sister on the cheek and sat down opposite her, throwing a smile out to a hovering waiter. Josie shared Andrew’s fair colouring and sturdy features, the combination making her rather striking to look at. She was also almost six foot tall, fiercely competitive and capable of making grown men shrivel up in compliance.
“Don’t worry, I’ve been well watered with numerous cups of tea, soaked up by the most delicious scones,” she replied. Andrew had chosen to meet his sibling in an exclusive restaurant just a stone’s throw from parliament. Many MPs from both parties frequented the establishment, and as such it was well versed in adapting its own time table to that of its clients.
“I’ll have the veal please, Josie what would you like?” Andrew said, handing his menu back to the waiter.
“I’ve already ordered the quail, about an hour ago,” she teased him.
“After demolishing all those scones, you must be hungry,” he grinned as he spoke. “But I am sorry, my meeting with the PM ran over.”
“Now you’re just showing off,” his sister replied. “If I’m late for an appointment it’s usually because my car has broken down, or something equally mundane.
“Believe me, you have no idea how mundane these meetings can be. Besides, I’ve never known you to be late for anything.”
It was true, whereas his time keeping had always left a lot to be desired, Josie never arrived more than a minute late for anything. She was organised, confident, and hardworking, having built up her own PR firm over the last twenty years, until it was now one of the most successful in the city. Andrew had commented on several occasions that she would have made the better MP, people had the decency to laugh when he said it, but he was in fact deadly serious.
“Okay, what’s up?” she asked, once the waiter had left. They were seated in a small alcove at the side of the restaurant, where privacy could be guaranteed from other diners and discretion was assured from the waiting staff.
“What makes you think anything is the matter?” Andrew asked.
“Because Chancellor,” she teased, knowing Andrew hated it when she used his official title, “I know my baby brother, and Molly phoned me this morning shortly after you did, to tell me you were a bit out of sorts.”
“Ah, I see. You know it’s unfair when you two combine forces,” he said, and then paused as the waiter brought over the plates of food. They specialised in getting their customer’s orders out quickly because they were often on a very tight timescale. Andrew ordered them both a glass of wine, and then turned his attention back to his sister. “I don’t know if I’d say I was out of sorts as such, I think it’s more a crisis of confidence Josie.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound great either. What is it you’re unsure of, not your political beliefs surely?”
“No, no, of course not, I believe completely in what we’re doing as a government, I couldn’t carry out my duties if I didn’t.” Andrew frowned as he took a sip of wine, it was heavy, oaky and a perfect accompaniment to the meat.
“So, what is it then?”
“I’m just not sure if I’m the right man for the job,” he spoke, his tone hushed, even though there was no one close enough to overhear. Whatever reaction he’d expected from Josie, it wasn’t for her to burst into peals of laughter. “I’m pleased my discomfort is entertaining you,” he said, irritation lacing his voice now.
“Oh, now, don’t be like that. It’s just that, well, a politician with self-doubt, you may be the first. In my experience, and I’ve dealt with a few, that’s not something they suffer from. In fact their absolute, and often arrogant, belief in themselves can make them very difficult clients.”
“Yes well, if my self-doubt makes me unique, it also makes me question my choice of career.”
“You really are serious, aren’t you?” Josie had ceased laughing.
“Yes, I am, I don’t think-”
“Have you mentioned your concerns to Nigel?” she asked, interrupting his thread.
“No way, Nigel does not do uncertainty; besides his father isn’t well, he’s gone to see him and the prognosis isn’t good.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Josie said. “What happened?”
“A sudden, massive, heart attack,” Andrew drew a deep breath as he spoke, he’d been there when Nigel had received the urgent call to go home. His friend had stood, quiet and posed and then relayed the news to Andrew, he knew the exterior show to be just a defensive front, he knew Nigel must be devastated really, because it was his father and so you would be, wouldn’t you?
“I didn’t know his father had heart problems.”
“Neither did anyone else, it just came out of the blue,” Andrew replied.
“Sad. But getting back to your dilemma,” his sister continued, “just answer me these questions. No ifs or buts Mr Politician, just a simple yes, or no. Okay?”
“Well, I don’t know, possibly…”Andrew mumbled.
“Very funny Chancellor now, first, are you a 100% Republican?”
“Yes.” Andrew also nodded for good measure.
“Second, is the government’s economic policy the only way to get the country out of this financial crisis?”
“Of course, yes.”
“Third, do you still have the thirst to be an MP?” This time she waggled a fork in his direction, as he hesitated before answering.
“Yes, I thi
nk I-”
“A simple yes or no Chancellor,” she interrupted him.
“Yes.”
“Fourth, wasn’t part of the reason you became an MP a bizarre wish to help and make the country a better place?”
“You make my idealism sound rather…sorry, yes,” he answered and popped a piece of veal into his mouth, as he wondered how long the question and answer session was going to take.
“And finally, isn’t being in government, as part of the cabinet, the best way to fulfil that desire?”
“Ah, I see, that would be a yes my clever sister. Perhaps you too should have been a politician,” he joked.
“Well the perks are rather good; I’d love to claim a hot tub on my expenses.”
“Ouch, let’s not go there.” Andrew gave a mock wince in response to his sister’s torment, the continuing scandal of MP’s expenses being too much of a current and raw subject to laugh about. “But thank you,” he continued, “you and Molly are right, I am exactly where I wanted to be, admittedly a little quicker than I thought, but yes, it’s where I need to be.”
“Of course it is, just keep on being you, if you feel disconnected to the real world, acknowledge that as a good thing, because it means you recognise the need to experience what happens outside of government, in order to govern more effectively. Keep worrying over where those cuts are going to fall, and then you won’t forget the human cost of your endeavours. Be prepared to be unpopular or even loathed by some in society, but know even then that you are doing the right thing.”
“Wow, would you consider a job as my speech writer?” Andrew grinned at his sibling.
“Baby brother,” she joked in return, “you couldn’t afford me.”
“You’re probably right. Now, enough of my issues how are you and Ned?”
Ned was Josie’s partner in both business and in her personal life. They’d been together as long as the company, but had never expressed any desire to wed or have children. Their relationship could be tempestuous, they were far too alike for it to be a comfortable ride, but Josie often stated that it was their somewhat fiery relationship that kept it interesting. Andrew had never been completely comfortable in Ned’s presence; he always made him feel inferior in some way, without Andrew actually knowing why. He was also extremely embarrassed by his exclusion from his wedding day ceremony and following celebration because he and Josie were going through a non-speaking faze at the time and she had barred him from attending. Andrew had thought about phoning him and asking him to come anyway, he knew the present frosty climate between the pair would soon thaw but Molly had told him just to let them get on with it and sort it out between themselves; but the residual guilt had added to his discomfort in the man’s presence.
An Ordinary Working Man Page 11
