“We all agreed tonight that we detest the Prime Minister, deplore his lack of judgement, disapprove of his henchmen; and yet we can do nothing – yet!”
Not my words; an entry dated Thursday 26th February 1942 in Chips Channon’s diary. Many Conservative MPs will be confiding similar sentiments to their diaries this morning.
I have been commissioned to photograph the Prime Minister. Have I, in essence, captured him? Thanks, Bertie, for lending your toys for the photo shoot. I think Bertie would make a cracking PM. Why? He would charm and wouldn’t break the rules often because he’d get a short, sharp smack on his nose. Boris leads the Party (and apparently parties). Will his Party smack him?
Boris’s Cabinet colleagues take it in turns to squirm on the winkle pin of media interrogation, repeating the distinctly unconvincing mantra that the PM “implicitly” (“explicitly” would carry conviction) believed the party to be a business meeting and then contradicting this by saying the PM was unaware of the party until it happened. Then, cornered, they say “wait for the Independent Report” written by a civil servant without the power to examine all the evidence: emails, texts, interviews with police and junior staff, etc. I hope I’m wrong and she has a broad remit but it shouldn’t have come to this.
On the other hand, isn’t it splendid that a sausage roll and a glass of plonk will, perhaps, topple a Prime Minister? Britain lost a colony over a tea party. If I may digress, I had vegan sausages (3) and ketchup for lunch yesterday. Next time I will add mashed spuds, something green and half a bottle of the house red.
Something is happening … there’s nothing I can do.
Bertie for PM
HE HAS MY VOTE