Westminster Corridors
Since i made some Reflections upon the general Negligence used in the case of Regard towards Women, or in other words since I last wrote of Wenching. I have had many Epistles upon the subject as well as a long discourse from my old friend Sir Simon cl'Audley.
Sir Simon says that the Lobby Journalists at the Club, whose antipathy for the fairer sex is well known and of which I have had occasion to talk before, have positively taken Mrs Margaret !Harmony Hair Spray' Thatcher to their hearts — which is no mean thing as so very few of them have them.
Forsaking the Duchess of Falkender, Mrs Secretary Castle (who is now known as the Grand Old Dame of the Club), Mr 'Ruby Lips' St John Stevas (whom everyone agreed was a Drag), these Lobby men have started inviting Mrs Thatcher for tea or chocolate each Thursday afternoon.
At these informal soirges, Sir Simon avows, her charm and graciousness of manner come across (whatever that may mean) very strongly. She is furthermore in the happy position of being able to provide bountiful tins of goodies from her ample larder for the delectation of the Lobby men.
One thing above all causes Sir Simon alarm and that is the behaviour of the Chairman of the Lobby Men, one Mr John 'Why-should-Iuse ten words when a thousand will do' Egan, an elected official of the Group. It is alleged that this Mr Egan is being overprotective to Mrs Thatcher and not allowing her to blossom as she might.
Only the other day he is reported to have said to her at one such meeting that she need have no fear that the Lobby Men would probe deeply for information as they were only there for a secret, background briefing (and, of course, the tea and Joseph 57 spaghetti rings on toast). One or two of the scribes mOrmured rebelliously that it was not for Mr Egan to determine the length or style of meeting.
At this he waved an imperious hand (having taken lessons from the Duchess) and banged his gavel (which must have been painful) to close the meeting. My readers will be delighted to hear that worse was yet to come.
There followed a briefing with Mr 'Rip Van' Maudling, a retired businessman of great charm and sensibility. Finding himself, after a hundred years, back on the Front Bench at the Club, Mr ,Maudling with a degree of pertinacity hitherto unsuspected, managed to remain awake long enough to say that he would be delighted to answer the Lobby Men's questions.
Not unnaturally, the Scribes wanted to know about certain former business associates of Mr Maudling; whereupon Mr Egan banged the Shadow Foreign Secretary with the gavel (which also served to wake him up) and deemed the questions out of order. "No, no," protested Rip Van M, clearly keen to answer. But the odious Mr Egan would have none of it and moved on to something called "other business."
This talk of business puts me in mind of a conversation Sir Simon and I had with the new chairman of the Tory Party in the Smoking Room. While declaring that offshore funds were a good thing, Lord 'Peter Wimsey' Thorneycroft insisted that funds were even better in the bank at Smith Square.
For that reason he refused to resign any of his directorships and had instituted a special drive in the Midlands to raise funds for the Party. He confided in us that a campaign would be mounted by our old friends Lord Trysull, Sir Tetton Hall, Sir Charles Freeport and his brother Sir Frederick Longpocket.
These Tory dignitaries were charged with 'cleaning up' in the Midlands (which Lord Peter regards as a deprived area) while he set new brooms to work in the South.
When asked if she wished to visit the Russian capital to discuss Foreign Affairs, Harmony Hair Spray replied that she knew nothing about those. But she did want to buy a fur hat like Mr Wilson's. She thought it looked 'chic.' "Don't you mean sheik," gurgled the irrepressible Mr William Whitelaw at a Shadow Cabinet meeting. She fixed him with a stony stare and deprived him of seconds of Co-op Rice Pud.
Tom Puzzle
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