Ministerial Diary: Day 1

It all started with a call from Sally in the PM's office.

"The man would like to talk to you," she said, "he'll be ringing in five minutes."

"Okay," I said, "I'll wait." I was about to go into a Select Committee hearing, so I went in, plonked my papers on the table, said hello to a few people on our side and said I had to "go and freshen up."

I went to freshen up while I waited for the call. What did the man want with me? I wondered. Was it about the Select Committee report. We had been rather critical of the government's plans to make the dead work for a week before they were entitled to claim burial costs. The Committee thought this requirement unrealistic, even the Conservative members agreed that there simply weren't enough
jobs for dead people to do. Our report had led to some unfavourable press in the Guardian and the Independent, but surely the man wasn't that angry with me, after all none of the real papers had picked the story up and the Sun had led with a survey showing that 99% of dead people supported the move.

It was twenty minutes before the call came and when it did it wasn't the man after all, it was Gavin, his PPS. "How would you like to be a Minister?" he asked.

"I'd like that very much," I replied, thinking of the ministerial car, the little red boxes and the £30,000 per year salary increase. "I didn't know there was a reshuffle," I said, "what job do you have in mind for me?"

"There's no reshuffle, I can't talk about the job over the phone. Come to Sir Robert's office at 2.00 and you'll find out everything you need to know."

I returned to the Select Committee just as the first witnesses were leaving. I mumbled apologies and received back jibes across the spectrum of wit, including the memorable line from David Harris, the Labour MP, who commented "You've never looked so fresh." At least someone was paying attention to me for once. Ah, but from now on they all will pay attention, I realised, I will be a Minister of State.

The hours passed slowly and the minutes slower still, the Committee was hearing evidence about benefit fraud, mostly from academics who enjoyed boring us with meaningless statistics. According to one 97% of all disabilities were fraudulent, a fact I shall retain for the next time my surgery is besieged by protestors demanding disability rights. Up to now I have been sympathetic, but
knowing that virtually all disability is bogus has hardened my position.

At last it was nearly two and I walked over to Downing Street. I waited another half hour outside Sir Robert's office before being called for. Sir Robert was one of The Man's staff, a party official, tasked with the day to day running of the government. Eventually I was called into his office. "Glad you could come," he said with a smile that made me forget the long wait, "have a seat, Minister."

So it was true, I really was a Minister. I decided to make the most of the opportunity. "If there's any choice in the matter I'd be interested in the Foreign Office," I said. Often with reshuffles the job is up for negotiation and I rather fancied a Foreign Office role, involving lots of free first class travel to interesting places, mainly 5 star hotels and conference centres that put the 5 star hotels to shame.

"There's no choice I'm afraid, this isn't a reshuffle it's a new post - take it or leave it."

"I'll take it obviously," I said hastily, rather too hastily as it happens, Sir Robert’s eyebrows dropped disapprovingly.

"I haven't told you what the job is yet," Sir Robert said. "We need a Minister for Tigers, someone deal with the emergency, you know, the tiger that escaped from the zoo yesterday. We need someone to handle the public order threat, the Home Secretary can't cope on her own."

I tried not to show my disappointment. "But the tiger will be caught in a couple of days, I'll have had the shortest ministerial career ever."

"Maybe," he said, "or maybe not. It might take longer than you think to sort out this whole tiger business, either way you'll get the chance to impress The Man. You'll be attending cabinet, so it will be a good chance for you to get your face known."

"Cabinet?" I couldn't hide my excitement, me a Cabinet member at just 36, I could be PM by the time I was 43 at this rate. "I thought we only had five places at cabinet," I said. (The coalition agreement guaranteed the Lib Dems five cabinet posts).

"You won't be a member of the Cabinet, just present at sittings to report on the tiger, there is a distinct difference."

"It's still an incredible honour," I said.

"Exactly. We've had our eyes on you for quite a while you know."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, the man has taken quite a shine to you. The problem is there are a limited number of ministerial posts we can give to Lib Dems and most of these are fixed by political niceties and necessities." He leaned forward as if in a whisper, though in fact his voice changed not a jot "Frankly, two of the Lib Dem members of the Cabinet are promoted way about their ability and won't last the next reshuffle."

"Alex Daniels was over-promoted when he got his first paper-round," I said, repeating a joke that had been doing the rounds every since he'd surprised everyone by getting a cabinet job.

Sir Robert looked at me sternly. "I didn't mention Alex Daniels," he said, "by all accounts Alex is doing a wonderful job. The Conservative backbenchers love him as does the man: he’s always willing to defend the undefendable. No, Alex is probably the safest Minister in the whole government, yourself included."

I left Sir Robert's office with my tail between my legs. I had almost blown the greatest opportunity of my life. Now that I was a Minister, a Minister who attended cabinet no less, I must make sure that I am more discreet.