THE LONELY HUNTER
Anne McElvoy tells an everyday story of
ambition, betrayal, jealousy and failure in the Labour party
FIRST there was Anji, who met Tony long ago at a posh Scots teenage party, when he fancied her friend and/or maybe Anji. Then there was Cherie, who married Tony and didn't like Anji because Anji had known Tony first, or whatever. But Tony knew that Anji was very efficient and charming and could talk to anyone, unlike most people in the Labour party, who weren't even speaking to each other. So Anji, having worked for him in opposition, moved into Downing Street, where she was gatekeeper, adviser, ambassador and 'office wife', a phrase that set Cherie's teeth on edge.
Alastair, who was Tony's office husband not that you'd say it quite like that to his face if you valued your dentures — didn't much like Anji on his patch either. He tried to give her an office on the first floor, which is a bit like being sat behind the filing cabinet and next to the waste-disposal unit in terms of No, 10's internal geography. Anji fought back and sat outside Tony's office, from where she sallied forth with a radiant smile and one of those half-rah, half-gravel voices that turn men to jelly and women to envy, to spread the gospel of Tony.
Meanwhile Fiona, petite blonde partner of Alastair but much more frightening, had joined the team looking after the government's prize asset. Yes, she was working for Cherie.
There was, as insiders admitted, 'friction' between Cherie and Anji. One year, when Mr Blair was in his outer hotel room putting the finishing touches to his speech with Anji, Alastair and the gang, Mrs Blair emerged in her dressing gown and told Anji, in the sort of language that the little Blairs would be sorely upbraided for using, to go away out of her sight. A witness recalls that Anji stared straight ahead and did not move. Tony continued rewriting sub-clauses about the Third Way — which was very wise of him in the circumstances.
Labour's first term ebbed. Leo joined the cast. Anji did not share the nation's joy, worrying it would all be too much for Tony to cope with. Alastair ran Mr Blair's public image: Fiona ran Cherie's, rather successfully. Others made the decisions; sometimes Tony was one of them. Anji grew bored of being nice for a living. She made a play for Sally's job and a tactical alliance with Margaret, who was general secretary of the Labour party. Margaret goes off in a later episode to run Express newspapers, so we needn't worry too much about her But hang on, you haven't met Sally yet. Right, well Sally (kind face, primary headteacher's manner) was political secretary, which meant that she tried to save Mr Blair from being ambushed by his own party. Under her care, Tony would occasionally venture forth to National Executive meetings. She would then try to stop him leaving after ten minutes. Cherie sided with Sally in the turf war with Anji, murmuring that Sally was 'on the side of the angels' — whoever they may be in all of this, But Tony could not face life without Anji, the only woman except Cherie who could make him change his shirt when he didn't want to. So when Anji threatened to leave he offered her Sally's job with a grander title. Sally was distraught. Even more so when Tony offered her the general secretaryship of the Labour party. If there is one thing a Blairite would not wish on their friends, it's that.
Sally said, 'You must be kidding.' Oh dear,' said Tony distractedly. 'You'd better have a peerage and go to the women's unit then.' Yes, it was that bad. The election came and went. Anji was now called director of political and government relations, which sounds better in the original Russian. Alastair's title of 'chief of press' had been grade-inflated to 'director of strategy and communications', which sounds better in a FTSE company. But really they just carried on being Alastair and Anji. Well, what did you expect: alchemy?
At some point, Tony noticed that he had not the foggiest idea of what his backbenchers and ministers were really thinking. With a war on, a gathering job threat from Gordon and a party that has never liked him anyway, this did not seem like a good idea. He kept asking Sally why she wasn't at meetings. 'Because you sent me to the Cabinet Office to be in charge of the women's unit,' she said. 'Oh,' said Tony. Did I? Well you might as well pop in for meetings anyway.' So she did, and it was all very much like before, except that Sally had become Lady Morgan, a title she found faintly ridiculous because she could think of nowhere she would less like to be than in the Lords, and Anji nominally had Sally's job.
Anji was not happy. Cherie still didn't like her. Neither did Fiona. Remember Fiona? Well, she had also evolved from pure Cherie-management to organising Tony's forays outside Downing Street. This had been Anji's bag until she mis-organised that election launch at a school, which resulted in Tony reading chunks of the manifesto to a class of bored prepubescent girls, one of whom put her jumper over her head in despair.
That day, the first sliver of doubt penetrated Tony's faith in Anji. Alastair spoke loudly of festivities and breweries, Was it he who suggested that maybe Fiona could help out after the election to make sure it never happened like that again? Or maybe Cherie? I forget. Anyway, the next thing Fiona was 'liaising' with Anji about Tony as well as about Cherie. Except they couldn't stand one another, which makes liaising a bit difficult. By now, Anji was giving off what one recipient calls 'dangerous pheromones'. She also thought that Tony was naive about his neighbours, Gordon and Sarah. A couple of books sympathetic to Tony and hostile to Gordon appeared. Was Anji running a covert communications strategy? You bet your life she was. Alastair grew disgruntled As Fiona was wont to remark, 'This is turning into Peyton Place.' Phrases like `too hot to handle' started to attach themselves to Anji, and, as any woman in an office knows, this is the kiss of death. It was Tony who finally told Anji that it was all over. He wanted Sally back instead. It was agreed that this would not be said publicly, although everyone who wanted to get one over on Anji knew, and told the whispering grass to tell the trees.
Anji held a leaving party which, one guest reported. was 'like a wake'. Fiona was not invited, so Alastair refused to go. Sally started work in Tony's outer office on Monday. The answerphone still says 'Hi, it's Anji Hunter. I'm not in at the moment.' And they say there are no such things as ghosts.
Anne McElvoy is executive editor of the Independent on Sunday and an Independent columnist.
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