First Among Equals (25 page)

“So what do you
intend to do about Hampton?”

“I’ve already
dealt with that little matter.”

Raymond was the
most talked-about backbencher in the House.

He made such a
penetrating speech during the second reading of the new Trade Union Bill that
the Whips put him on the standing committee-the perfect medium for him to
display his skills as the committee debated each clause, point by point. He was
able to show his colleagues where the legal pitfalls were and how to find a way
round them, and it was not long before trade-union leaders were calling him at
the Commons, and even at his flat, to learn his views on how their members
should react to a host of different legal problems. Raymond showed patience
with each of them and, more important, gave them excellent professional advice
for the price of a phone call. He found it ironic how quickly they chose it)
forget that he had written Full Employment at Any Cost?

Snippets began
to appear in the national press, ranging from laudatory comments from those
involved with the bill to a pointed suggestion in the Guardian that, whatever
had happened in the past, it would be insup209 portable ifRaymond Gould were
not made a member of the Government in the near future.

“If they were
to offer you a job, would it make any difference to our relationship?” Kate
asked.

“Certainly,”
said Raymond. “I shall have found the perfect excuse not to wear your blue
shirts.”

Harold Wilson
held the crumbling edifice together for a further six months before finally
having to call a General Election. He chose October 10,

1974.

Raymond
immediately returned to his constituency to fight his fifth campaign. When he
met Joyce at Leeds City station he couldn’t help remembering that his dumpy
wife was only four years older than Kate. He kissed her on the cheek as one might
a distant relative; then she drove him back to their Chapel Allerton home.

Joyce chatted
away on the journey home, and it became clear that the constituency was under
control and that this time Fred Padgett was well prepared for a General
Election. “He hasn’t really stopped since the last one,” she said. Undoubtedly,
Joyce was even better organized than the campaign manager and the secretary
joined together. What was more, Raymond thought, she enjoyed it.

Unlike his
colleagues in rural seats, Raymond did not have to make speech after speech in
little village halls. His votes were to be found in the High Street, where he
addressed the midday shoppers through a megaphone and walked around
supermarkets, pubs,
clubs
, shaking hands, and then
repeated the whole process.

Joyce set her
husband a schedule that allowed few people in the Leeds community to escape
him. Some saw him a dozen times during the three-week campaign.

Once the game
was over, Raymond was back trooping around the workingmen’s clubs, drinking
pint after pint of bitters. He accepted it as inevitable that he would put on
five or ten pounds (luring any election campaign. He dreaded what Kate’s
comment would be when she saw him.

Somehow he
always found a few minutes in each day to steal away and phone her. She seemed
so busy and full of news it only made Raymond feel downcast; she couldn’t
possibly be missing him.

The local trade
unionists backed Raymond to the hilt. They may have found him stuck-up and
distant in the past, but “he knows where his heart is.” they confided to anyone
who would listen.

They banged on
doors, delivered leaflets.
drove
cars to the polls.
They rose before he did in the morning and could still be found preaching to
the converted when the pubs threw them out at
night,
Raymond and Joyce cast their votes in the local secondary school on the
Thursday of Election Day, looking forward to a large Labour victory.

The Labour
Party gained a working majority in the House of forty-three over the
Conservatives, but only three over all the parties combined.

Nevertheless
Harold Wilson look – d set foranother five years when the Queen invited him to
form his fourth administration.

The count in
Leeds that night gave Raymond his biggest majority ever:

14,207 votes.
He spent the whole of Friday and Saturday
thanking his constituents, then prepared to travel back to London on Sunday
evening.

“He must invite
you to join the Government this time.” said Joyce.

“I wonder,”
said Raymond as he kissed his wife on the cheek. Jie waved at her as the train
pulled out of Leeds City station. She waved back enthusiastically.

“I do like your
new blue shirt, it really suits you,” were the last words he heard her say.

During the
election campaign, Charles had had to spend a lot of time at the bank because
of a run on the pound. Fiona seemed to be everywhere in the constituency at
once, assuring voters that her husband wasjust a few yards behind.

After the
little slips were counted, the swing against Charles to the Labour candidate
didn’t amount to more than I percent in his 22,000 majority. When he heard the
national result, he returned to London resigned to a long spell in Opposition.
As he began to catch up with his Tory colleagues in the House, he found many of
them already saying openly that Heath had to go after two election defeats in a
row.

Charles knew
then that he would have to make up his mind once again on where he stood over
the election of a new Party Leader, aadlihat once again he must pick the right
man.

Simon had a
glorious campaign. He and Elizabeth had started moving into their new cottage
the day the election was announced, thankful that her salary at the hospital
made it possible for them to employ a nanny for Peter and Lucy now that she had
to commute. A double bed and a couple of chairs sufficed as Elizabeth cooked on
an old wood stove from food still packed in tea chests. They seemed to use the
same forks for everything.

During the
campaign Simon covered the twohundred-square-mile constituency for a second
time and assured his wife that she need only take the final week off from her
duties at St. Mary’s.

The voters of
Pucklebridge sent Simon Kerslake back to Parliament with a majority of 18,419,
the largest in the constituency history. The local people had quickly come to
the conclusion that they now had a member who was destined to have a Cabinet
career.

Kate kept her
remarks very gentle as it became obvious by Monday night that the Prime
Minister was not going to offer Raymond ajob in the new administration. She
cooked his favorite rneal of roast beef – -overdoneand Yorkshire pudding in the
flat that night, but he didn’t commcnt on it; he hardly spoke at all.

A
FTER SIMON HAD BEEN BACK at the Commons for a week, he felt a
sense of djjd vu. The sense was heightened by finding everything unchanged,
even the policeman who greeted him at the members’ entrance. When Edward Heath
announced his Shadow team, Simon was not surprised that he wasn’t included, as
he never had been known as a supporter of the Tory Leader.

He was, however,
mystified but not displeased to discover that Charles Hampton was not among the
names to be found in the Shadow Cabinet.

“Do you regret
turning him down now the full team has been published?” asked Fiona, looking up
from her copy of the Daily Mail.

“It wasn’t an
easy decision, but I think it’ll prove right in the long run,” replied Charles,
buttering another piece of toast.

“What did he
offer in the end?”

“Shadow Minister of Industry.”

“That sounds
rather interesting,” said Fiona.

“Everything
about it was interesting except the salary, which would have been nothing.
Don’t forget, the bank still pays me forty thousand a year while I’m chairman.”

Fiona folded
her paper. “Charles, what’s the real reason?”

Charles
accepted that he could rarely fool Fiona. “The truth is that I’m Jar from
certain Ted will be leading the Party at the next election.”

“Then who will
if he doesn’t?” asked Fiona.

“Whoever’s got
the guts to oppose
him.
”

“I’m not sure I
understand,” said Fiona beginning to clear away the plates.

“Everyone
accepts that he has to run again for reelection now that he’s lost twice in a
row.”

“That’s fair
enough,” agreed Fiona.

“But as he has
appointed all possible contenders to the Cabinet or Shadow Cabinet over the
last ten years, someone he has selected in the past will have to oppose him. No
one of lesser stature would stand a chance.”

“
is
there a member of the Shadow Cabinet willing to run?”
asked FioDa returning to her seat at the end of the table.

“One or two are
considering it, but the problem is that if they lose it could easily end their
political career,” said Charjes.

“But if one of
them wins?”

“He will
undoubtedly be the next Prime Minister.”

“Interesting, dilemma.
And what are you going to do about
it?”

“I’m Dot
supporting anyone for the moment, but I’ve got my eyes wide open,” said
Charles, folding his napkin and rising from the table.

“Is there a
front-run tier?” asked Fiona, looking up at her husband.

“No, not really, although Kerslake is trying to rally support for
Margaret Thatcher.
But that idea is doomed from the start.”

“A woman leading the Tory Party?
Your
lot
haven’t
got the imagination to risk it,” said Elizabeth, tasting the
sauce.

“The day that
happens I’ll eat my one and only Tory hat in full view of all the delegates at
the party conference.”

“Don’t be so
cynical, Elizabeth. She’s the best bet we’ve got at the moment.”

“But what are
the chances of Ted Heath stepping aside? I always thought the Leader of the
party stays on until he is hit by the mythical bus. I don’t know Heath very
well, but I can’t ever imagine him resigning.”

“I agree,” said
Simon. “So the 1922 Committee made up of all the backbenchers will have to
change the rules.”

“You mean the
backbenchers will pressure him to resign?”

“No, but a lot
of the Committee in their present mood would be willing to volunteer as driver
for that mythical bus.”

“If that’s
true, lie must realize that his chances of holding on are slim.”

“I wonder if
any Leader ever knows that,” said Simon.

“You ought to
be in Blackpool next week,” said Kate, resting her elbow on the pillow.

“Why
Blackpool?” asked Raymond, staring up at the ceiling.

“Because, Red, that’s where they are holding this year’s Labour
Partv conference.”

“What do you
imagine I could hope to accomplish there?”

“You’d be seen
to be alive. At present you’re just a rumor in trade-union circles.”

“That’s not
fair,” Raymond said indig-nantly. “I give them mort.
advice
than I give my clients.”

“All the inore reason to go and spend a few days with them.”

“But if you’re
not a Minister or a trade-union leader, all you do at a party conference is
spend four days eating foul food, sleeping in seedy guest houses, and
applauding for other people’s second rate speeches.”

“I’ve no
interest in where you put your weary head at night, but I do want you to revive
your contacts with the unions during the day.”

“Why?” said
Raymond. “That lot can’t influence my career.”

“Not at the
moment,” said Kate. “But I predict that, like my fellow Americans at their
conventions, the Labour Party will one day select its Leader at the Party
conference.”

“Never,” said
Raymond. “That is and will always remain the prerogative of elected members of
the House of Commons.”

“That’s the sort
of crass, shortsighted, pompous statement I would expect a Republican to make,”
said Kate as she covered his head with a pillow. She lifted up a comer and
whispered in his ear,

“And have you
read any of the resolutions to be debated at this year’s Labour conference?”

“A few,” came
back Raymond’s muffled reply.

“Then it might
serve you well to note Mr. Anthony Wedgwood Benn’s contribution,” she said
removing the pillow.

“What’s that
crazy left-winger enlightening us on this time?”

“He’s calling
on ‘conference,’ as he insists on describing your gathering of the brothers, to
demand that the next Leader be chosen by a full vote of the delegates, making
up an electoral college from all the constituencies, the trade-union movement
and Parliament-I suspect in that order.”

“Madness.”

“Today’s
extremist is tomorrow’s moderate,” said Kate blithely.

“A typical American generalization.”

“Benjamin Disraeli, actually.”

Raymond put the
pillow back over his head.

As soon as
Raymond stepped off the train at Blackpool Station, he knew Kate had been right
to insist he attend the conference. He shared a taxi to his hotel with two
trade-union leaders who treated him as if he were the local Lord Mayor.

When he checked
into the hotel, he was pleasantly surprised that Jamie Sinclair, who was now a
Home Office Minister, had been booked into the next room. Thev agreed to have
lunch together the following day. Sinclai’r suggested an excellent restaurant
just outside of Blackpool, and it soon became clear that he regularly attended
the conference.

Although they
had both been in the House for ten years, it was the first time they discovered
how much they had in common.

“You inust have
been disappointed when the PM didn’t ask you to rejoin the Government,” began
Sinclair.