I blame the scapegoats (18 page)

Like any pensioner, the Queen Mother had
acquired a few bits and bobs over the years. Much of her fortune was tied up in
a vast collection of coupons cut out of magazines, promising savings such as 10p
off a tub of Asda own-brand margarine. A constitutional wrangle is developing
over who gets the bundles of
£5
notes
that were discovered rolled up under the mattress. The old lady also had an
impressive art collection, with such paintings as
Kitten
Playing with Ball of Wool,
and on top of the
telly were several porcelain figurines as advertised in the
Sunday
Express
colour supplement (including the hand-crafted
and individually numbered statuette
Man's Best Friend-
three
monthly instalments still to be paid). There was one piece of abstract artwork
that could not be explained: a small Haitian doll bearing a vague resemblance
to Wallis Simpson with a lot of pins stuck in it.

But while most families squabble over who
gets the carriage clock, the royal family have the additional matter of a
number of palaces and castles that have to be divvied out as well.

'I think I should get Clarence House, the
Royal Lodge at Windsor and her house at Balmoral, because, er - it's what she
would have wanted.'

'Well, I think we should respect her last wishes,
the ones expressed privately to me which were that, um
...
I should get the whole lot.'

Charles will now be moving into the granny
flat known as Clarence House. It was about time he got his own pad; he was
getting a bit old to be tiptoeing past his mother's bedroom at night,
whispering to Camilla to skip the third step because it creaks a bit. The Queen
Mother's Castle of Mey near John O'Groats has been suggested for Edward and
Sophie.

'Ya, like a sort of
holiday home thingy?' asked Edward.

'Well, kind of. . .' said the other royals.
'But don't feel under any pressure to hurry back.'

Meanwhile, second-tier royals such as
Viscount Linley and Princess Michael of Kent are being asked to leave
Kensington Palace. Two tattooed men in sheepskin coats with a couple of
Rottweilers will be round with the sledgehammers first thing Monday, telling
them to clear their stuff out pronto. Kensington Palace will then be let on the
open market; Posh and Becks have already been round to measure up for curtains.

The
Queen Mother's estate is reckoned to be worth around £50 million, a figure
which could double once they take all the empties back to the off-licence.
Normally the Treasury could expect to get about £20 million out of this, but
apparently the royals won't be paying a penny in inheritance tax.

Presumably
the Queen just has a very creative accountant who's somehow proved that the
firm is operating at a loss. He's spent the last two weeks with Her Majesty
trying to think up more and more elaborate expenses, while Philip sits in the
corner scribbling random amounts on to a pad of blank taxi receipts.

'I know, Liz, how about we say you have to
spend a grand a week on flowers? That's a business expense innit?'

'Urn, well, one's
public does tend to give one a lot of flowers for nothing . . .'

'Yeah, but the taxman ain't gonna know that,
is he? Now how much shall I put down for crown polish?'

In fact, the Treasury will not be getting £20
million in death duties because of a so-called 'sovereign to sovereign' deal
that was struck by John Major's government in 1993. Of course, it would be very
easy for cynics to say that there was one rule for the rich and another for the
poor. And the reason that it would be so easy is because it's true.

But
the fact that Her Majesty isn't legally obliged to hand over the money means it
would be a greater PR gesture if she did so voluntarily. Or why not donate the
money to a specific social project which could bear her mother's name? The
Queen Mother Crack Addicts Drop-In Centre? The Queen Mother Refuge for
Bangladeshi Lesbians? It's what she wouldn't have wanted. But sadly the royal
family will be too busy fighting amongst themselves over all those little
incidental possessions, like Caithness, to think about giving any money away.
The truth is that they have made millions out of her sad passing. No wonder
they were always creeping up behind her and shouting 'Boo!'

18
May 2002

.In
last month's sizzling edition of
Big Ones
there
was something familiar about one of the Readers' True-Life Confessions. Mr TB
from Westminster wrote, 'It was my party and everyone kept giving me presents,
but the biggest treat was more than I bargained for! I hadn't had an election
for four years and suddenly this porn star with these big wads came up and
offered to give me a good funding, just like that! Well, I was desperate for
it, I can tell you. I've never had any cheques like it and I didn't feel
guilty, even when everyone found out.'

On Thursday night
Newsnight
viewers were treated to the sight of Jeremy Paxman
listing the titles of the pornographic magazines that were published by Richard
Desmond, such as
Asian Babes, Spunk Loving Sluts
and
Big Ones,
and then asking the
Prime Minister if he was familiar with these magazines. Just off camera,
Alastair Campbell was waving at his boss mouthing 'No!' and shaking his head
vigorously. Oh, that's cheating, thought Paxman. Just when Tony was about to
tell us who were his favourite porn models and mime the most distinguishing
features of the girls in
Big and Busty:
'I
tell you what, mate, that bird who was the centrefold last month - phwoar! Know
what I mean, Jezza? Phwoar! Eh? I've got Busty Brenda pinned up in the cabinet
office next to that list of New Labour's Aims and Values and no mistake!'

The PM pointedly refused to condemn the
publications of the most embarrassing donor to give money to the Labour Party
since Robert Kilroy-Silk resigned his membership. But the association with
Richard Desmond finally caused the Prime Minister some grief at home when
Cherie was sorting out Tony's old jumpers at the back of his wardrobe and
discovered a grubby, well-thumbed copy of the
Daily
Express.

'Oh that!' blushed Tony. 'Well, um, there's
actually some very good interviews . . .'

Meanwhile, round at Richard Desmond's house,
the pornographer's wife was equally upset. 'What are you doing associating
yourself with these people, Richard? Have you heard some of the titles that New
Labour have published?
Towards a Public
Private Partnerships.
Ugh -it's appalling!
No
Benefits without Responsibilities^.
It sounds obscene!'

During an awkward discussion in cabinet,
ministers admitted that Desmond's porn mags were not the sort of family
publications with which the Labour Party ought to be associated. 'These
magazines, they never show the love involved in sex,' said Robin Cook. 'And all
the others that I researched - they didn't show any love either; very little
sign of any love in over a hundred publications, which I thoroughly checked and
rechecked.'

In the old days they used to say that the
Labour Party tended towards financial improprieties while the Tory ministers
would get caught out with sex scandals. Now New Labour have shown what is meant
by the Third Way with a story that manages to combine both. The whole sordid
episode raises many questions. Why did Desmond want to give this money? Why did
the Labour Party accept it? And just who is that weirdo that goes into the
woods and scatters pornographic magazines everywhere?

Clearly the decision to accept the cash was a
political decision, not a financial one. To send the donation back would have
stuck up two fingers to the owner of a major newspaper in the run-up to the
General Election. It is quite possible that Desmond gave the money with exactly
this test in mind. Perhaps he hoped that the association would make people see
him as a respectable mainstream publisher. (Desmond does not like to be called
a pornographer, according to people close to the pornographer.) Once upon a
time Clare Short strode into W. H. Smith and took the pornographic magazines
off the top shelf. Now the government has effectively marched back into the
shop and put them back on the shelves lower down.

But
if the Labour Party are going to take donations from a pornographer, why don't
they cut out the middle man and just raise the money this way themselves? 'It's
ladies' night at Spearmint Rhino. Live pole-dancing with Stephen Byers! You
simply won't believe it!' Or 'Live on tour - The Full Monty, starring Jack
Straw and John Prescott. Watch those dark suits come off to the tune of the Red
Flag!' Soon the telephone boxes around Westminster will be full of little cards
stuck up with Blu-tack, featuring pictures of eager young-politicians with
black bars across their eyes: 'Young politician - fresh in town - Lobby Me!'
'New Labour MP - I'll do whatever I'm told!' Or how about a live website:
'"Tony-cam", featuring X-tremely X-citing X-certs of the PM's bedroom
action, featuring Tony sitting up in bed reading "Whither the Euro"'?
They might never need to have another Labour Party fundraising dinner ever
again. Or is the depressing truth that more people are turned on by pictures of
naked women than they are by our politicians? I suppose there will always be a
fundamental difference between pornography and politics. With the magazines you
only imagine you're getting screwed.

25
May 2002

Two
major educational problems emerged this week: truancy and exclusions. It seems
that if children are refusing to turn up for lessons, it makes it very
difficult to expel them.

'Listen, lad, if you keep being absent from
school like this, you won't be allowed into school, do you understand?'

'No.'

'No, neither do I.'

The
DFES says that exclusions are only being used in extreme circumstances, such as
when children are dealing in hard drugs or bringing weapons into the
playground. Honestly, did these ministers never play swapsies when they were at
school? 'I'll swap you my plastic snake for your Bobby Moore Esso Cup Coin,' or
'I'll swap you this kilo of heroin for your Kalashnikov semi-automatic' Yet
another innocent playground pastime banned by the do-gooders of the political
correctness brigade!

Apparently some of these schools are so rough
that the few kids having music lessons have to smuggle their violins into class
hidden inside machine-gun cases. Last week an eleven-year-old girl was excluded
for punching a teacher, which might be worth bearing in mind when they come to
update
What Katy Did Next.
This
week's figures represent the first increase in school exclusions since Labour

came to power. And the number looks set to
rise further, with whole classes expected to be sent home next month. The fact
that this will happen to be on the days of England World Cup matches will be
pure coincidence.

It
is a bit hard to know what to do when teenagers have already strayed so far
outside the system. Iain Duncan Smith has come up with a few tough suggestions
of his own to punish Britain's errant schoolkids: officer cadets will be denied
permission to wear their uniform on St George's Day and boarders won't be
allowed to read the lesson in chapel. But it's possible that this may not be
enough.

One
mother was recently sent to prison because her daughters were consistently
missing school. Except the prison governor suddenly-spotted her with her
daughters in the Arndale Centre. 'Hang on -you're supposed to be in jail - what
are you doing coming out of Asda?' To which her daughters replied, 'Nah, she
had to come shopping with us today. She might be in later in the week . . .'

Being
teenage daughters, the girls were probably not too concerned that their actions
had sent their mother to prison. 'Oh god, why's there no food in the fridge?
Honestly, she's so selfish!' Suddenly teenagers have another means of bullying
their parents. 'Right - either you let me get my eyebrow pierced or I'm skiving
off school today and you'll be back inside. It's your choice, Mum.'

Obviously many of these problems start at
home. My old English teacher told me that when he took a class on a school trip
round the local police station his most disruptive pupil glanced into the cells
and said a cheery 'Hello, Dad!' The way things are going, this might be the
only way for truants to see their parents, but at least they'll be taking part
in school trips.