First Among Equals Read online

  “This question has nothing to do with what I said to the House on that occasion,” retorted Raymond angrily. His last few words were lost in Opposition shouts of “Resign, resign!”

  Simon was up in a flash and the Speaker called him for a third time.

  “Is the Honorable Gentleman telling the House that he has one set of moral standards when he speaks, and yet another when he writes?”

  The House was now in total uproar and few members heard Raymond say, “No, sir, I try to be consistent.”

  The Speaker rose and the noise subsided slightly. He looked about him with an aggrieved frown. “I realize the House feels strongly on these matters, but I must ask the Honorable member for Coventry Central to withdraw his remark suggesting that the minister has behaved dishonorably.”

  Simon rose and retracted his statement at once, but the damage had been done. Nor did it stop members from calling “Resign” until Raymond left the Chamber a few minutes later.

  Simon sat back smugly as Gould left the Chamber. Conservative members turned to nod their acknowledgment of his professional demolition of the Government’s Under-Secretary of State. The Chancellor of the Exchequer rose to deliver his prepared statement on devaluation. Simon felt sick as he listened with horror to the Chancellor’s opening words. “The Honorable member for Leeds North handed in his resignation to the Prime Minister on Saturday evening but graciously agreed not to make this public until I had had an opportunity to address the House.”

  The Chancellor went on to praise Raymond for his work in the Department of Employment, and to wish him well on the back benches.

  Andrew visited Raymond in his room immediately after the Chancellor had finished answering questions. He found him slumped at his desk, a vacant look on his face. Andrew had never considered Raymond a natural friend but he wanted to express his admiration for the way he had conducted himself.

  “It’s kind of you,” said Raymond, who was still shaking from the experience. “Particularly as you would have demolished the lot of them.”

  “Well, they’re all demolished now,” said Andrew. “Simon Kerslake must feel the biggest shit in town.”

  “There’s no way he could have known,” said Raymond. “He’d certainly done his homework and the questions were spot on. I suspect we would have approached the situation in much the same way given the circumstances.”

  Several other members dropped in to commiserate with Raymond after which he returned to his old department to say farewell to his team before he went home to spend a quiet evening with Joyce. There was a long silence before the Permanent Secretary ventured an opinion: “I hope, sir, it will not be long before you return to Government. You have certainly made our lives hard but for those you ultimately serve you have undoubtedly made life easier.” The sincerity of the statement touched Raymond, especially as the civil servant was already serving a new master.

  It felt strange to sit down and watch television, read a book, even go for a walk and not be perpetually surrounded by red boxes and ringing phones. Within forty-eight hours he missed it all.

  He was to receive over a hundred letters from colleagues in the House but he kept only one.

  Monday, 20 November 1967

  Dear Gould,

  I owe you a profound apology. We all in our political life make monumental mistakes about people and I certainly made one today.

  I believe that most members of the House have a genuine desire to serve the country, and there can be no more honorable way of proving it than by resigning when one feels one’s party has taken a wrong course.

  I envy the respect in which the whole House now holds you.

  Yours sincerely,

  Simon Kerslake.

  When Raymond returned to the Commons that afternoon, he was cheered by the members of both sides from the moment he entered the Chamber. The minister who had been in the middle of addressing the House at the time had no choice but to wait until Raymond had taken his seat on the back benches.

  CHAPTER TEN

  SIMON HAD ALREADY left when Edward Heath called his home. It was another hour before Elizabeth was able to pass on the message that the party leader wanted to see him at two-thirty.

  Charles was at the bank when the Chief Whip called, asking if they could meet at two-thirty that afternoon before Commons business began. Charles felt like a schoolboy who had been told the headmaster expected him to be in his study after lunch. The last time the Chief Whip had phoned was to ask him to make the winding-up speech and they had hardly spoken since. Charles remained apprehensive; he always preferred to be told what a problem was immediately.

  He decided to skip lunch at the bank and join his colleagues in the House, to be certain he wouldn’t be late for the afternoon appointment.

  Charles did not enjoy eating at the House as the food, with the exception of the hors d’oeuvres trolley, was only a little better than Paddington station and rather worse than London airport.

  He joined some of his colleagues at the large table in the center of the Members’ Dining Room and took the only seat available, next to Simon Kerslake. The two men had not really been on good terms since the Heath-Maudling leadership contest. Charles did not care much for Kerslake: he had once told Fiona that he was one of the new breed of Tories who tried a little too hard and he had not been displeased to see him embarrassed over the Gould resignation. Not that he allowed anyone other than Fiona to know his true feelings.

  Simon watched Charles sit down and wondered how much longer the party could go on electing Etonian guardsmen who spent more time making money in the City and spending it at Ascot than they did working in the House—not that it was an opinion he would have expressed to anyone but his closest friend. The discussion over lunch centered on the remarkable run of by-election results the Tories had had at Acton, Meriden, and Dudley. It was obvious that most of those around the table could not wait for a general election, although the Prime Minister did not have to call one for at least another three years.

  Neither Charles nor Simon ordered coffee.

  At two-twenty-five Charles watched the Chief Whip leave his private table in the corner of the room and turn to walk toward his office. Charles checked his watch and waited a moment before leaving his colleagues to begin a heated discussion about entry into the Common Market.

  He strolled past the smoking room before turning left at the entrance to the library. Then he continued down the old Ways and Means corridor, passed through the swing doors, and entered the Members’ Lobby which he crossed to reach the Government Whips’ office. He put his head round the secretary’s door. Miss Norse OBE, the Chiefs invaluable secretary, stopped typing.

  “I have an appointment with the Chief Whip,” said Charles.

  “Yes, Mr. Seymour, he is expecting you. Please go through.” The typing recommenced immediately.

  Charles walked on down the corridor and found the Chief Whip blocking his own doorway.

  “Come on in, Charles. Can I offer you a drink?”

  “No, thank you,” replied Charles, not wanting to delay the news any longer.

  The Chief Whip poured himself a gin and tonic before sitting down.

  “I hope what I’m about to tell you will be looked upon as good news.” The Chief Whip paused and took a gulp of his drink. “The leader thinks you might benefit from a spell in the Whips’ office, and I must say I would be delighted if you felt able to join us …”

  Charles wanted to protest but checked himself. “And give up my Housing and Local Government post?”

  “Oh yes, and more of course, because Mr. Heath expects all Whips to forgo outside commitments. Working in this office is not a part-time occupation.”

  Charles needed a moment to compose his thoughts. “And if I turn it down, will I keep my post at Housing and Local Government?”

  “That’s not for me to decide,” said the Chief Whip, “but it is no secret that Ted Heath is planning several changes in the run-up to the election.”

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