LETTERS My hero

Sir: It is far easier and more fashionable these days to denigrate rather than praise public figures. Australians call it the 'Tall Poppy Syndrome'. In addition, the British are not by nature effusive. At the very least I will probably be called unfashionable for saying this, but I have a hero. He's an unlikely sort of hero; a truly unsung hero. His name is Sir Patrick Mayhew, the North- ern Ireland Secretary.

This is a personal story, and thankfully has not much to do with politics. Just over four years ago I came to London in search of work — an Australian on his first over- seas trip. Times were tough. The Gulf war had started, the recession had bitten deeply and the weather was freezing. By and by I managed to obtain a temporary job with a firm of solicitors. I spent my time sifting through large bundles of documents at the headquarters of the London Fire Brigade. It was not glamorous.

Also, through a fortunate series of events I managed to secure an appointment with the Attorney-General, Sir Patrick Mayhew. It was a courtesy call more than anything else; an unusual opportunity for a lowly Australian solicitor to meet the United Kingdom's first law officer.

On the day of the appointment it was snowing heavily. A very loud explosion rocked the building in which I was working. From my vantage point on the fifth floor I could just see the Houses of Parliament and Lambeth Bridge, but I could hear many sirens blaring.

Being in the Fire Brigade offices meant the news came through fairly quickly. The War Cabinet had been sitting at Downing Street and had been the victim of a mortar attack by the IRA. The sense of drama was palpable. I rang the Attorney-General's office immediately to see if he was all right. Not surprisingly, it was difficult to get through. I tried for about two hours.

Some time after midday I finally spoke to the Attorney's secretary. I told her about the appointment saying it would probably have to be deferred given the circumstances. She sounded relieved and said that the Attorney- General was unharmed but agreed the meet- ing would probably not go ahead. About 20 minutes later she rang back. I was amazed to hear her say that the Attorney-General was looking forward to seeing me. I couldn't believe what was happening. At about 2 p.m. I made my way through the deep snow of Birdcage Walk to Buckingham Palace. The Attorney-General's office was in Bucking- ham Gate. I sat in a grand and daunting wait- ing-room which was covered with the por- traits of former Solicitors-General.

His secretary greeted me and we walked upstairs. The line of former Solicitors-Gener- al stretched impressively up the stairs. Through a door marked 'Fire Escape', Sir Patrick Mayhew appeared; a large smiling man with a hooked nose and a pair of twin- kling eyes. He shook hands warmly and then motioned me to the other end of his large office and asked me to sit in the lounge chair. He relaxed opposite me, stretched out on a couch. His secretary sat a discreet distance away.

I was awed by the occasion but immedi- ately felt at ease. It was his manner. Think- ing it improper to ask him directly what had happened, I thanked him for seeing me in the circumstances. He appeared to brush my comment away. There didn't seem to be any 'circumstances'. He was simply pleased to meet me. He spoke fondly of Australia and told me that he had never been to my home state, Tasmania. He asked if I knew Peter Wright of Spycatcher fame and I said that Mr Wright lived in Cygnet, which was not far from where I lived. The, conversa- tion never seemed to flag. We spoke of Australian law, the former prime minister, Fraser, and industrial reform.

Then after about half an hour and with what appeared to be no real sense of urgen- cy the Attorney-General asked if he could be excused, saying that he was due back in the house at 3.30 p.m. for Prime Minister's Questions. 'They want to know what hap- pened this morning,' he said.

I have followed Sir Patrick's career close- ly ever since. I know that he was once presi- dent of the Oxford Union and performed national service in the Irish Regiment. I know that he is a Queen's Counsel who became an MP fairly late in life. I also know that he is the first Northern Ireland Secretary to have actually asked for the job.

I often see him on television walking in and out of Number 10. He always has time, whatever the situation, to wave or smile at the press. He answers questions with authority and sometimes with passion. But I have never seen an interview or a report about Sir Patrick Mayhew, the man. I have concluded that he is the sort of person who shuns personal publicity. He would proba- bly be embarrassed by this letter. He just gets on with the job.

In Australia we often talk about the British 'stiff upper lip'. It personifies the true British spirit; the 'business as usual' approach to life. I am not surprised that the Irish peace talks have progressed so far. The journalists and commentators are giv- ing credit to everyone except, it seems to me, Sir Patrick Mayhew. I'm sure he would not want it any other way.

As I walked from Buckingham Gate that day I wondered about what had just hap- pened and why he had taken the time to see me. After all, it was not an essential appoint- ment. I was not an ambassador or even a government official. If it were me I would have been settling my nerves in a pub.

The next day the papers told us that the Attorney-General, Sir Patrick Mayhew, had been sitting next to the window when the mortar shell hit, and had borne the full effects of the blast. The former Chief Sec- retary of the Treasury, Mr David Mellor, who had been speaking when the window shattered, is reported to have said, 'Thank God we had a big man there!'

I say the same about Northern Ireland.

Peter Lyons

30 Park Street, Trowbridge, Wiltshire