Diary of a Notting Hill Nobody
By Tamzin Lightwater MONDAY OK, OK, I was wrong. (It does happen you know.) I may have been a teensy bit oversensitive about the whole 'marriage' thing. But I am now prepared to admit that it does seem that it may, after all, be the answer to everything. I cannot argue with statistics showing that hardly anybody on these south London housing estates is married. And everyone is getting shot. Contrast that with the situation in, let's say, Witney, where 95 per cent of people are married. And gun crime is nonexistent. Also, as Jed explained to us at Strategy Hub, there are no end of political problems you can apply the marriage formula thingy to and with the added benefit that banging on and on about it buys off a huge chunk of the grassroots! How clever is that?
Maybe I was being a bit touchy because I have failed to 'Be the Change' as far as this particular diktat — or should I say Dave-tat! — is concerned. But now I'm all briefed up and ready to go. Obviously the war on single mothers is over. The weapons have been put beyond use. But let us be clear: we cannot allow single mothers to continue bringing up children on their own. So we are going to offer tax breaks for couples who stay together. Because couples who stay together for cash are going to be more committed parents. Actually, that doesn't sound right. This is obviously going to take a bit of practice.
TUESDAY Panic stations. It's chaos in here. We don't want to take anything for granted but let's face it, we are going to win the next election. Mr Maude gave a v interesting presentation on how 42 per cent does not in fact translate into a 144-seat majority — 'very far from it!' — but rather lands us in the wilderness for another ten years. Something to do with marginal boundary change slippage.
Unfortunately nobody would stay quiet and listen, and Poppy and Tom were singing 'We're coming home, we're coming home, we're coming ... Tories coming home...' Mr Maude got v upset and stormed out with his presentation slides flapping all over the place. Then Jed got cross and told us all we better 'raise our game or they'll be some lastminute substitutions round here...' He's been sitting in his office all afternoon typing furiously. The 'Policy Makers at Work' sign is hanging on the door. He hasn't had that up since the police questioned Blair.
WEDNESDAY Jed didn't go home last night. He was still in his office this morning, sleeping under a mountain of ripped-up paper. Poppy says it's the latest draft of Dave's First 100 days, his Master Plan. Nobody is allowed to go near him until he's nailed it. We even have to leave his skinny mochas outside the door.
Everyone tickled pink at my marriage conversion. Nigel said, 'Welcome to the smug club!' Been working flat out and have come up with a heap of new evidence. For example, only one in four drug dealers is in a committed relationship. Is it any wonder they've turned to crime? They probably don't know what it is to come home to a hot meal in the evening. It is too, too shocking. (God, it feels good to be back on message. Now I just need a husband.) THURSDAY Have discovered the Master Plan! It was underneath a Scooby Doo yoga mat in the Tranquillity Room. Day One: Overturn hunting ban. Day Two: Abolish stamp duty on shares. Day Three:' The rest of the sheet was blank. Jed can't have printed it off properly.
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