The Complete Yes Prime Minister

THE KEY

February 27th

Dorothy Wainwright, my Chief Political Adviser, came to see me in the Cabinet Room this morning. Shes a very attractive blonde of about forty, slim, efficient, and very hard-nosed.

When I say my Chief Political Adviser, its hardly true. In fact she held that post for my predecessor, the previous Prime Minister, and it seemed a good idea to keep her on.

Humphrey Appleby had hinted that she wasnt awfully helpful -- so it seemed an even better idea to keep her on! After all, I do need people who are not strictly within Humphreys control. But since my first day here, when I asked her to stay, Ive hardly seen her. So I was thoroughly surprised not only when she strode purposefully into the Cabinet Room, where I was doing my paperwork, but also by her brisk opening remark.

Look, Jim, if you dont want me as Political Adviser, Id much rather you just said so.

I was amazed. Why did she think Id asked her to stay on? She was the only person that stopped my predecessor from losing all contact with the real world. But it seems that she has been given the impression that Ive arranged for her to be kicked out of her office and banished to the servants quarters.

I used to be in the office next door to this room, didnt I? Was it a rhetorical question or did it demand an answer?

I played safe. Yes.

And you asked for me to be moved to the front of the building, up three floors, along the corridor, down two steps, round the corner, and four doors along to the right. Next to the photocopier.

This was news to me. Id no idea where shed been. I thought you were on holiday or something, I explained. Actually, the job has been keeping me so busy that, to tell the truth, Id hardly noticed she wasnt much in evidence. [This was no coincidence Ed.]

I might as well be on holiday, she said sharply. I came back after your first weekend and found my office turned into a waiting room for Cabinet Ministers, officials and so on. All my things had been moved upstairs to the attic. Humphrey said it was on your instructions. Was it?

I tried to think. Had I given such instructions? No, I hadnt. And yet I had! You see, Dorothy, Humphrey came to me with a plan to rationalise things. Make better use of the space.

She shook her head in silent wonderment. Dont you realise that the Civil Service has been trying to get me out of my office for three years?

How could I have realised that? Why?

Because geographically its in the key strategic position. Its the best-placed room in the house.

I dont see what difference that makes, I said. Youre still in Number Ten.

Just, she said, tight-lipped.

You get all the documents.

Some, she acknowledged.

We can talk on the phone, I reminded her.

When they put me through, she said bitterly.

I thought she was being a bit paranoid and I told her so. Then she started talking about Albania and Cuba. She said Albania has very little influence on United States policy, whereas Cuba has a lot of influence. Why? Because Albania is remote and Cuba is near. She argues that, in Number Ten just as in the outside world, influence diminishes with distance. And Im distant, she finished balefully.

Youre not in Albania, I said.

No, Im in the bloody attic, she snapped. Look! And she started to move things around on my desk. This desk is a plan of Number Ten. This file is the Cabinet Room, where we are now. Through the doors here -- she placed a book at one end of the file -- "is your private office. This ruler is the corridor from the front door -- here. This corridor -- and she grabbed a paper knife and put it down alongside the file and the book -- "runs from the Cabinet Room and connects up to the locked green-baize door, on the other side of which is the Cabinet Office, which is this blotter, where Sir Humphrey works. This coffee cup is the staircase up to your study. And this saucer is the gents loo -- here. And this is -- was -- my office. She put an ashtray down beside the file that represented the Cabinet Room. Now, my desk faced out into the lobby and I always kept my door open. What could I see?

I stared at it all. You could see, I said slowly, everyone who came in from the front door, or the Cabinet Office, or in and out of the Cabinet Room, or the Private Office, or up and down the stairs.

She remained silent while I pondered this. Then, pressing home her advantage, she picked up the saucer and put it down again. And I was opposite the gents loo. I have to be opposite the loo.

I asked her if shed seen a doctor about this, but apparently I was missing the point. The gents loo, she reminded me. Almost everyone in the Cabinet is a man. I could hear everything they said to each other, privately, when they popped out of Cabinet meetings for a pee. I was able to keep the last Prime Minister fully informed about all their little foibles.

Was that any of his business? I asked.

When they were plotting against him, yes!

Shes brilliant! No wonder Humphrey turned her office into a waiting room and banished her to the attic.

I buzzed Bernard. He appeared through the large white double doors from the Private Office, immediately.

Ah, Bernard, I said, I want you to put Dorothy back in her office.

You mean, take her there? He pointed atticwards.

No, I said, I mean, take her to the waiting room, just outside here.

Bernard was puzzled. Before she goes back to her office, you mean?

I was patient. No, Bernard. I mean the waiting room, which used to be her office, will again be her office.

But what about the waiting room? he asked.

I told him to concentrate, listen carefully, and watch my lips move. The-waiting-room- I said slowly and clearly, will-become-Dorothys-office.

He seemed to understand, but was still arguing. Yes, Prime Minister, but what about waiting?

I lost my temper and shouted at him, No, Bernard, right away!

It still wasnt clear to him. Desperately he stood his ground. Yes, Prime Minister, I realise you mean at once, no waiting, but what I mean is, where will people wait if there is no waiting room to wait in?

I saw what he meant. It was just a simple misunderstanding, thats all. But his question was still pretty daft. The whole building is full of waiting rooms, I pointed out. All the state rooms upstairs, hardly ever used. And then theres the lobby, here! I indicated my desk.

Bernard looked blank. Where?

There, I said. Look. Between the ashtray, the cup and the saucer.

He looked at the desk, then back to me, wide-eyed with confusion.

Between the coffee cup and the saucer?

Hes so dense sometimes. The saucer is the gents loo, Bernard, I told him. Wake up!

I sometimes wonder if Bernards mind is agile enough for this job.

SIR BERNARD WOOLLEY RECALLS [in conversation with the Editors]:

Naturally I immediately acted upon the Prime Ministers instructions. I had no axe to grind, it was Sir Humphrey who had insisted that Mrs. Wainwright was moved away from her strategic position overlooking the lobby outside the Cabinet Room.

The following day Humphrey phoned me and instructed me to explain myself or withdraw the instructions. I told him that there was nothing to explain -- it seemed a matter of minor significance.

An hour later a note arrived from him, written in his own hand.

[Sir Bernard was kind enough to lend us the note from Sir Humphrey. We print it below Ed.]

Cabinet Office

28/ii

Bernard,

There is everything to explain. We have striven for years to get that impossible woman out of that office, and now you snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.

The fact that the PM requested it is neither here nor there. You do not have to grant every little request from the Prime Minister. You have to explain that some of them are not in his own best interests. Most of them, in fact.

Our job is to see that the PM is not confused. Politicians are simple people. They like simple choices, and clear guidance. They do not like doubt and conflict. And that woman makes him doubt everything we tell him.

HA

P.S. Please destroy this letter immediately.

[Fortunately for historians Bernard did not obey Sir Humphreys instruction to destroy the letter. Nor did he immediately withdraw the instructions to change Mrs. Wainwrights office Ed.]

SIR BERNARD WOOLLEY RECALLS [in conversation with the Editors]:

No, indeed I didnt. I felt it was my duty to argue the Prime Ministers case. So Humphrey popped over to the Private Office to discuss it further. He wasnt pleased that I was taking an independent view.

I told him, quite simply, that Mr Hacker liked Mrs Wainwright. This argument did not impress him. Samson liked Delilah, he commented. Fortunately, the Private Office was deserted. Humphrey had wisely chosen to come to talk to me at the end of the day when all the others had gone home.

I took a strong line with him. I told him that she was not dangerous, in my opinion. For a start, she didnt know very much of what was going on; we had always been careful to keep most of the important documents away from her.

This did not satisfy Humphrey. He reminded me, quite accurately, that we in the Civil Service were duty-bound to ensure the sound government of Britain. Whereas Mrs Wainwrights sole duty was to see that mr Hacker was re-elected.

I rather felt that if Hacker governed Britain well he would be re-elected, and that this was the nub of the disagreement. Appleby maintained, to the end of his days, that good decisions and popular decisions were not only not necessarily the same, but that they hardly ever coincided. His belief was that if Hacker took right or necessary decisions he would lose by a landslide. Therefore, every time we moved Hacker towards a right decision, she would inevitably respond by warning him of potential loss of votes, making our job impossible.

Briefly, therefore, Applebys thesis was that it was necessary to keep politics out of government. And, by extension, to keep Dorothy Wainwright in the attic.

As he explained this last point the double doors behind him opened and Dorothy Wainwright stepped out of the Cabinet Room. Sir Humphrey handled it with his usual aplomb.

Ah, good evening, dear lady, he said as he swung around. This is indeed a pleasure.

She was unimpressed. Hullo, Humphrey. Waiting to see the Prime Minister?

Indeed I am, dear lady.

Why arent you in the waiting room?

He had no answer. I thought it was extremely funny but, as always, I had to hold my amusement.

Humphrey turned on me, determined to exert his authority some other way. He informed me that an alien had been admitted to Number Ten the day before. The alien turned out to be the Prime Ministers constituency agent, who had been allowed in without a security pass.

He was simply being petty. The policemen outside all knew the man. There was no risk. Nonetheless, Humphrey reminded me -- in a slightly humiliating manner -- that it was my duty to ensure that everyone who came to the front door must either show their Number Ten pass or have an appointment.

Mrs Wainwright was listening to this conversation, and it did nothing to improve her opinion of Sir Humphrey. Excuse me butting in, Bernard, she said, but the Prime Minister asked me to make the necessary arrangements with you for moving my room back.

I was embarrassed. Humphrey gave me a penetrating stare and waited for me to refuse her. I couldnt see how I could refuse, if the PM had made the request.

I tried to prevaricate, and told her that I just had to deal with Sir Humphreys request concerning security passes. She said Humphreys request could wait. He said that it couldnt. She said that it could!

Humphrey turned his back on her and walked into the Cabinet Room to see the PM.

I must say that in all my years in Whitehall I have never seen such direct rudeness as I saw when Sir Humphrey was faced with Mrs. Wainwright. I wonder if it was because she was so forthright herself -- she certainly didnt pull her punches, as Hackers diaries reveal. Humphrey obviously disliked her very much indeed -- and, if he didnt have cause to initially, he certainly had eventually.

[Hackers diary continues Ed.]

February 28th

I was dictating letters in the Cabinet Room today after a meeting with Dorothy. She was a little fed up that her office had not been moved back downstairs yet, but it was only yesterday that I gave the go-ahead for it. She felt sure that there was opposition from the Civil Service and I felt she was being paranoid again.

No sooner had she left than I heard slightly raised voices in the private office. Then Humphrey appeared. I understand you are having second thoughts about our office reorganization, he said.

No, I replied. Ive simply decided to put Dorothy back in her old office.

That, alas, is impossible.

Nonsense, I retorted, and switched on my dictating machine preparatory to writing a letter.

But he didnt drop it. No Prime Minister, the whole reorganization hinges on her moving out.

I couldnt see why. I told him it was only a waiting room.

Not only a waiting room, he disagreed firmly, and strolled down the room towards me. A vital square on the board.

People can wait in the lobby, I said, unaware that my dictating machine was recording us. Or the state rooms.

Some people, perhaps, replied Sir Humphrey. But some people must wait where other people cannot see the people who are waiting. And people who arrive before other people must wait where they cannot see the other people who arrive after them being admitted before them. And people who come in from outside must be kept where they cannot see the people from inside coming to tell you what the people from outside have come to see you about. And people who arrive when you are with people they are not supposed to know you have seen must be kept somewhere until the people who are not supposed to have seen you have seen you.

I couldnt possibly have remembered all that, and I had great trouble later today trying to decipher it. But the implications were clear: You mean while Im quietly working away in here, theres an entire Whitehall farce going on outside that door?

[Whitehall farce was a term used to describe a series of theatrical farces produced over a period of about twenty years at the Whitehall Theatre. Whitehall was also, of course, the street that connects 10 Downing Street to Parliament Square, and on which can be found a number of major government departments Ed.]

Prime Minister, Number Ten is a railway junction. It cannot work without its proper component of sheds and sidings and timetables. Mrs Wainwrights office is a vital shed.

I challenged him. You want her out of the way.

Good heavens no, Prime Minister!

You think shes a nuisance. Be honest.

No, no. Splendid woman, Mrs Wainwright. Upright. Downright. Forthright.

Sometimes Humphrey has a certain natural poetry. But a nuisance? I asked again.

Well, he acknowledged cautiously, there have been occasions when her criticisms of the service have been, er, refreshingly outspoken. And when her conversations with the press have been breathtakingly frank and full. And sometimes her requests for information and assistance could have been a touch less abrasive and persistent. But most of my staff who had nervous breakdowns in the past three years would probably have had them anyway.

But I find her advice valuable, I reminded him.

Of course, Prime Minister. Humphreys tone was now full of understanding. And you shall have it. On paper.

Where you can all read it? I challenged.

Immediately I realised Id led with my chin. And why not? he enquired. Will it be secret from me?

Of course I had no answer to that. So I reiterated the main point of the argument. She needs to be where things are happening.

Think for a moment, Prime Minister. Is it fair to her?

I couldnt think what he was driving at. All the rest of us in this part of Number Ten are career civil servants. Loyal. Trusted. True. Our discretion proven over many years. If just one temporary civil servant is from the outside, then whenever there is a security breakdown the finger of suspicion will be pointed at her. It is too heavy a burden for one lady to bear. However gracious.

Is there any truth in this argument? It sounds plausible. Its certainly true that theyd take it out on her if they could! But I explained to Humphrey that she is valuable because of her political advice.

Prime Minister, he replied, you have the whole Cabinet to give you political advice.

They only advise me to give more money to their own departments. I need someone, Humphrey, whos on my side.

Humphrey was now positively sweetness and light. But Im on your side. The whole Civil Service is on your side. Six hundred and eighty thousand of us. Surely that is enough to be going on with?

He seemed to be winning the argument. I never should have got into it at all. I should have just held firm to my decision. But it was too late now. Id been sucked in to an argument I could never win. You all give me the same advice, I said hopelessly.

Which proves, replied Humphrey with triumph, that it must be correct! So now, please, can we revert to the original reorganisation plan?

I know when Im beaten. I nodded.

Humphrey tried to sweeten the pill with a compliment. Its such a pleasure to have a decisive Prime Minister who knows his own mind.

I asked Bernard to send for Dorothy. To my surprise she was waiting next door in my private office. She came right in. I waited for Humphrey to leave. He didnt. So I explained that I wanted a private word with Dorothy.

He still didnt leave. You can speak freely in front of me, he smiled.

Dorothy could see which way the wind was blowing. The Prime Minister may be able to, she snapped. I cant.

Im sure you can, Humphrey replied patronisingly.

This was a terrible situation, thoroughly embarrassing, and it really was my fault for not standing up to Humphrey properly. Dorothy turned on her heel and walked out. Bernard, perhaps youll let me know when the Prime Minister is free.

I stopped her, told her to come right back, and asked Humphrey to leave.

He didnt budge. If you think its necessary, Prime Minister. But I understand you have only a few brief words to say and we have many other matters of moment to discuss.

I couldnt think what. It was clear that Humphrey was determined to see that I denied Dorothy the office outside the Cabinet Room. While I was wracked with indecision, Dorothy turned on Humphrey.

Im sorry, Humphrey, she said with steel in her voice, I thought I heard the Prime Minister asking you to leave.

I kept silent. Humphrey realised that he had no alternative, turned and walked from the room. I signalled to Bernard to follow him.

The doors closed. Dorothy sat opposite me. She knew the whole situation only too well. She came straight to the point.

He has no right to behave like this, you know.

Trying to save face a little, I asked her what she meant. She explained that she meant barging in and out without so much as a by-your-leave, and telling me I couldnt spend too long talking to her.

He is Cabinet Secretary, I reminded her.

Precisely. Hes a Secretary.

Now I felt I had to save Humphreys face. Hes the most senior Civil Servant.

She smiled a wry smile. Its remarkable how people continue to consider you a civil servant when you behave like an arrogant master.

Now I had to save my face again. Im the master here, I said in my best no-nonsense voice.

Thats right! she said emphatically.

Encouraged, I told her that I am the Prime Minister, and that I shall be firm and decisive. As always, I told her that I wished to talk about her office, and that Ive changed my mind.

She asked, impertinently, if I had done so firmly and decisively.

This was infuriating. I asked her precisely what her question meant. Unfortunately, she told me. Have you changed your mind or has someone changed it for you?

I told her we need the waiting room. She asked why.

Well, I began, and realised that I was unable to reproduce Humphreys argument. Im afraid my version came out rather differently. Because, if people come to see people who people dont know people are coming to that is, if people saw people before other people saw them seeing them and other people see people well, the whole ship goes off the rails.

I ground to a halt, embarrassed. She gazed at me, her cool blue eyes appraising me. Did you work all that out for yourself? she enquired.

Look, be fair! I defended myself as best I could. I cant go into everything. I have to rely on advice from my officials.

She acknowledged the truth of this. But her view is that I have to rely on advice not only from officials. She believes that Humphrey is trying to shut off all my sources of information and advice except the Civil Service. And, furthermore, she insists he wishes to make himself the only channel for Civil Service advice.

This sounds a little fanciful to me. But she has more experience of Number Ten than I have, and I do know that shes on my side -- or at least shes not on Humphreys side, which may not be the same thing.

But how can Humphrey make himself the only channel for advice when I have the whole Cabinet every Thursday, and lots of Cabinet committees?

Thats a question I can answer for myself. My Cabinet mostly argue their Civil Service briefs. Thats what I always found I was doing. And Humphrey meets their Permanent Secretaries informally the day before Cabinet -- presumably they agree on their briefs. Thats why Im having such trouble with my Grand Design -- the Civil Service is against it.

However there is also the Think Tank. [The colloquial term for the Central Policy Review Staff, known for short as the CPRS Ed.] I reminded Dorothy that they report to me.

She looked sceptical. I wouldnt be surprised if Humphrey suggests having them report to him instead. Then hell ask for more space in Number Ten.

Why? I asked. The Think Tanks supposed to be in the Cabinet Office. [The Cabinet Office was a separate building which adjoined 10 Downing Street. It was entered from Whitehall Ed.]

Hell say, predicted Dorothy, that they need more space. Hell gradually encroach on your territory here. Why? Because it will give him the right to treat Number Ten as his own, as well as the Cabinet Office. Then you know what hell do? Hell start getting you out of the way.

Ive begun to think that Dorothy is a little crazy. Are you suggesting, I asked, that he wants to be Prime Minister?

No, no, she said impatiently. He doesnt want the title or the responsibility. He only wants the power. So, having made himself the focus of all information and advice, hell start encouraging you to go off on long overseas trips. Then hell have to take a number of decisions in your absence -- sorry, recommend them to Cabinet -- and youll have to follow his advice if youre not there. And Cabinet will follow his recommendations because theyll be getting the same recommendations from the Permanent Secretaries.

This seems a hideous scenario. I really cant believe it. However, I think Humphrey has to be curbed a little and, on reflection, I think that tomorrow Ill give Dorothy her office back.

March 1st

Today I really was firm and decisive. What a feeling! I have established my authority well and truly.

First I summoned Dorothy. I told her, firmly and decisively, that I had changed my mind again! She was to get her office back.

Then I asked Dorothy for her advice about Humphrey. Not that I would necessarily have taken it! But I wanted to know if she was recommending that I sack him.

She shrank from such a response. But she wondered if I might want to clip his wings. And she had a very good suggestion as to how to do it. As well as being Cabinet Secretary, he is Joint Head of the Home Civil Service. He is responsible for the Personnel side -- appointments and so on. Pay and Rations are in the hands of Sir Frank Gordon, Permanent Secretary of the Treasury. So the job of the Head of the Civil Service is effectively split between Sir Humphrey and Sir Frank.

Dorothys suggestion, brilliantly simple, is to take Humphreys half of the job away from him and give it all to Sir Frank!

The danger of such a move, of course, would be that it might make Sir Frank as powerful as Sir Humphrey is now. Would that be any better for me? Hard to tell. I dont know Sir Frank all that well. But I dont have to commit myself yet. All I had to do today was put the frighteners on Humphrey! And that I certainly achieved!

I sent for him. He arrived while Dorothy was still with me. I began by telling him that I had definitely decided to give her her old office.

He started to protest, but I wouldnt let him speak. He asked for a private word about it. Dorothy smiled unpleasantly and said he could speak freely in front of her.

He seemed reluctant. I asked him if he were about to dispute my decision.

Not once it is a decision, no, he replied carefully.

Good, I said, closing the matter. Now, I have another important matter to discuss with you. And I indicated to Dorothy that she should now leave. She smiled sweetly at me, and departed in triumph.

Before I could mention my threat to give some of Humphreys responsibilities to Sir Frank, he spoke up. And I could hardly believe my ears.

I think we should think about the Think Tank, he began. My God, had Dorothy known this was coming? Or was it an inspired guess, based on her knowledge of the man? In any event, I realised at that moment that I could no longer risk dismissing her fears as paranoia.

Cant the Think Tank think about themselves? I asked casually.

Im worried that their lines of communication are unclear, he said.

I looked surprised. How can they be? They report to me.

Operationally, yes. But administratively they report to me.

Humphrey was claiming that this was a serious anomaly. So I pretended to misunderstand him. I see, I said. So you want them to report to my office administratively as well.

He hadnt foreseen that interpretation. No, no! he answered hastily. It would be quite wrong to burden your office with administration. No. I suggest they report to me operationally as well.

I pretended to be open to this new plan. Inwardly I was seething. So they should deliver their reports to you?

Humphrey clearly felt hed won. Yes, well, just for checking and so on, he replied, leaning back in his chair and relaxing a little. To see that you get them in an acceptable form.

Humphrey, I said, smiling my most insincere smile, this is very generous of you. Wont it mean a lot of extra work?

He assumed his brave, British, Cruel Sea look. One must do ones duty, he grunted.

I decided to put Dorothys theory to the test. But gosh I said innocently, how will you manage for space?

I was just coming to that, he said. We shant be able to accommodate the extra staff in the Cabinet Office. But I think we can probably find a few rooms here in Number Ten.

She was right again, damn it!

Here? I asked.

Well, there is some space, he explained.

In that case, I asked, why did we have to move Dorothys office?

He was only fazed for a moment. Well if shes staying here we could move a couple of them into her new office. Her old office. Her old new office.

Go on, I said, playing with him.

Is that agreed? he enquired.

No, its not agreed, I replied pleasantly, but its fascinating. Anything else you want to propose?

Just some overseas visits, he said, producing some sheets of paper. I nearly fell off my chair. You ought to consider them.

I read the list he gave me. It included a NATO conference, the United Nations Assembly, the EEC Parliament, negotiations in Hong Kong about the future of the colony, Commonwealth meetings in Ottawa, and summits in Peking and Moscow. I marvelled at Dorothys knowledge of the system and the people who operate it.

But to Humphrey I said: If Im away all this time, wont it mean an awful lot of extra work for you?

I think, Prime Minister, that its very important for you to take your place on the world stage.

I agree, I said enthusiastically. But its asking too much of you. I really must try to lighten your load.

He eyed me with much suspicion. Oh no, theres no need.

I exuded crocodile sympathy at him. Oh, but there is, Humphrey, there is. Ive been thinking too. On top of everything else, youre Head of the Civil Service, arent you?

He was evasive. Well, the Treasury handle pay and rations.

But you are responsible for promotion, appointments and so on. Isnt that a bit much for you?

He laughed off the notion. No, no, not at all. Takes no time at all. A doddle.

I was enjoying myself. The promotion and appointment of six hundred and eighty thousand people is a doddle?

Well, I mean, its delegated, he explained carefully.

I smiled cheerfully. Oh good, I said. So if its delegated anyway, thered be no problem in moving it to the Treasury.

He was getting rattled now. Quite impossible, he replied firmly. The Treasury already has far too much power -- er, work.

I was relentless. You see, I said, with you doing promotions and them doing pay and rations, the lines of authority are unclear. Its all rather unsatisfactory. A serious anomaly.

Humphrey saw an opening. His eyes lit up. Well, in that case I could take over pay and rations too.

Nice try, Humphrey, I thought. I shook my head sorrowfully. On top of all your other burdens? Plus these you plan to assume? No, Humphrey, I cant allow you to make that sort of sacrifice.

He was getting desperate. Its no sacrifice. No trouble at all!

For once in his life he was probably telling the truth. Humphrey, you are too noble, I replied. But I can see through your arguments.

He eyed me like a frightened ferret. You can?

Youre trying to sacrifice yourself, I said gently, to save me from worry, arent you?

He was nonplussed. He couldnt figure out the safe answer, the answer that would get him what he wanted. Oh, he said. Er yes. Um, no, he went on. Its really no sacrifice, he concluded.

I was now bored with my game. So I told him a final no.

But Humphrey needed to know the answers to his other proposals, chiefly those concerning the Think Tank.

The more I think about it, Humphrey, I said, the more I realise that you already have too much on your plate. In fact, I dont want to keep you here any longer when you must have so much to do in your office.

He couldnt quite believe his ears. Had he been dismissed? I decided to clarify his position. You may now leave. If youre needed again in Number Ten, youll be sent for.

He stood up, then paused to correct me. You mean when.

I smiled apologetically. I mean when, I agreed. He turned towards the door. And if, I added mischievously.

He froze for a moment, then walked to the doors. As he left the room I made sure that he heard me pick up the intercom and ask Bernard to get Sir Frank over to see me as soon as possible.

March 2nd

Sir Frank was tied up yesterday, so I spoke to him on the phone.

Frank, I said, I just want to sound you out about something. Its about Humphrey. Im wondering if hes got too much on his plate.

As I expected, Frank assured me that Humphrey could manage splendidly, is tremendously able, is not overstretched, and has everything perfectly under control with no problem at all.

Then I indicated that the reason I was asking was because of Humphreys role as Head of the Civil Service. I wondered, I said, if Frank could do some of Humphreys job.

It will come as no great surprise to any reader that Frank said not one single word more about Humphreys great ability. Instead he remarked that such a proposal could make a lot of sense.

I asked him to come to meet me tomorrow and, meanwhile, would he note down on paper his precise thoughts as to whether or not Humphrey is overstretched and send them over to me.

An hour later his thoughts arrived, duly noted. These are they:

HM Treasury

Permanent Secretary

March 2

Dear Prime Minister,

When I said that HA was not overstretched, I was of course talking in the sense of total cumulative loading taken globally rather than in respect of certain individual and essentially anomalous responsibilities which are not, logically speaking, consonant or harmonious with the broad spectrum of intermeshing and inseparable functions and could indeed be said to place an excessive and supererogatory burden on the office when considered in relation to the comparatively exiguous advantages of their overall consideration.

Yours ever,

Frank

I read it carefully several times. My conclusion: he could do part of Humphreys job.

March 3rd

Frank came to see me today. But we never had the meeting.

When he arrived, I instructed Bernard to see that Humphrey did not interrupt us. I wanted complete confidentiality.

Bernard said: Ill do my best.

Your best may not be good enough, I told him. Oh, my prophetic soul!

I had seen Dorothy first thing this morning. She had reminded me that, technically, Sir Humphrey is supposed to phone us from the Cabinet Office before coming through the green-baize door to Number Ten.

I checked this with Bernard. He was hesitant. Perhaps that is right in theory, Prime Minister, but in reality its just a formality.

Good, I said. Humphrey likes formality.

Bernard agreed, but with reluctance. Yes, Prime Minister, but as they say it is a custom more honoured in the breach than in the observance.

I am really fed up with Bernard, Humphrey, Frank, the lot of them. Why must they all express themselves in such a pompous and roundabout manner? All this rot about customs being honoured in the breach Why do they distort and destroy the most beautiful language in the world, the language of Shakespeare? [Hacker was apparently unaware that Bernard was quoting Shakespeare: Hamlet , Act I, Scene iv Ed.]

SIR BERNARD WOOLLEY RECALLS [in conversation with the Editors]:

That day was a turning-point in my life and my career. I had never realised that my new post as Principal Private Secretary to the Prime Minister gave me the opportunity to assert my strength and independence from my old boss. It came as a revelation, a blinding flash, the road to Damascus!

I had just shown Sir Frank Gordon into the Cabinet Room and returned to the Private Office.

I dialled Humphreys number on the phone.

I heard Humphreys voice, loud and clear. Yes?

Ah, Sir Humphrey, I said.

Yes, he said again, and I realised that the reason his voice was so loud and clear was because it was right behind me. He had entered the room.

Bernard here, I said stupidly. Well, I was flustered.

So I see, he replied. I replaced the receiver.

Just the person I wanted to talk to, I said, still very worried by his close proximity to Mr Hackers secret meeting.

Well here I am, in person. Even better, he said.

Yes and no, I said. I was chattering on meaninglessly, saying that I wanted to have a word with him, which was why I was telephoning him, why else? And finally I managed to say that the Prime Minister had asked me to remind him that it might be more convenient if he were to phone through from the Cabinet Office before popping over to see us in Number Ten.

Humphrey assured me that it was not inconvenient.

Yes it is, I said.

No its not, he said.

And, much too firmly, I said: Yes it is!

He stared at me. Then, suddenly very cool, he asked if the PM was busy.

I had to say that he was. Humphrey wanted to know with what. I tried being vague, and muttered that he was doing his paperwork. Humphrey really frightened me, you know, in those days.

Humphrey said that if it was only paperwork he could pop in and have a word with the PM. I was forced to admit that the PM was doing his paperwork with somebody.

Sir Humphrey eyed me carefully. It was clear to him that I was being less than frank with him, and perhaps completely mendacious. You mean, hes having a meeting? I nodded. With whom, Bernard? he rasped.

I think he knew already. Its been in the air for two days now. No sooner had I admitted that the PM was meeting the Permanent Secretary of the Treasury than Sir Humphrey was through the doors into the Cabinet Room like a ferret up a pair of trousers. I couldnt possibly have stopped him -- my reflexes just werent quick enough.

[Hackers diary continues Ed.]

However, immediately I started to talk seriously to Sir Frank Gordon, Humphrey barged in. I asked him what he wanted. I was not welcoming. He said he was checking to see if he could be of service. I asked him if Bernard had told him I was in a meeting. Bernard nodded vigorously in the open doorway. Humphrey admitted this was so.

So what do you want? I asked impatiently.

He clearly had nothing to say to me. He was just checking up on me. Well, he said, since it was a meeting with one of my professional colleagues, I though -- hello, Frank -- that I might have a contribution to make.

He smiled effusively at Frank who, I noticed, hardly smiled back.

I see, I said. No, thank you.

I waited for him to leave. He didnt move.

Thank you, I said, quite clearly.

Thank you, Prime Minister, he replied, and still didnt move a muscle. He just stood at the door, waiting, listening, defying us to divest him of any of his responsibilities.

Humphrey, I said, feeling the irritation rising in me, this is a private meeting.

Ah, he said. Shall I shut the door?

Yes please, I said. Imagine my amazement when he turned and shut the door from his side. No, Humphrey, from the other side please.

He was angry and defiant. May I ask why?

Meanwhile Frank was getting distinctly nervous. He rose and offered to leave. I told him to sit down, and Humphrey to leave.

Humphrey seemed prepared to pretend that he was the village idiot rather than leave. In what sense of the word do you mean leave? he asked, as if it were a sensible question.

I shouted at him to get out. I told Frank to go as well -- I was now too upset and angry to continue a rational conversation with him.

Bernard was creeping away. I shouted at him too, telling him to come back. We were alone together.

I asked him, Why did you allow Humphrey in when I explicitly told you not to?

I couldnt stop him, he replied with a helpless shrug.

Why not?

Hes bigger than me.

Then, I said with grim determination, he must be confined to the Cabinet Office.

How? he asked.

It was obvious. Lock the connecting door, I said.

But he has a key, whimpered Bernard.

Then take his key away from him, I said.

Bernard couldnt believe his ears. Take his key away from him? he asked incredulously.

Take his key away from him, I repeated.

You take his key away from him! said Bernard.

Ive never heard such impertinence and open defiance. What? I exclaimed.

Bernard took a deep breath, stopped, and tried again. Im sorry, Prime Minister, but I dont think its within my power.

Bernard is very academic and well educated, but so inhibited and constricted and highly trained to do things they way they have always been done, that sometimes he cant see the wood for the trees.

Im giving you the power, I explained. Im authorising you.

He appeared to be on the verge of a complete crack-up. But I dont know if I I mean crikey. Hell go completely potty.

I smiled at Bernard. And he smiled back at me. Then his smile faded and he licked his lips nervously. He still didnt quite have the courage, I could see. Its up to you, Bernard, I said gently.

Yes, but

Freedom, Bernard, I said softly.

Yes, but

Im giving you the power, Bernard, I reminded him gently.

Yes, but

You, alone, will have access to the Prime Minister, I encouraged him cunningly.

But even that didnt quite convince him.

But but He was unable to formulate his objections. His whole world was being turned upside down.

But me no buts, Bernard. Shakespeare. I thought it was time for me to demonstrate a little learning.

But a little learning is a dangerous thing. Bernard immediately sought refuge in useless and irrelevant pedantry. No, Prime Minister, but me no buts is a nineteenth-century quotation, circa 1820. Mrs Centlivre used the phrase in 1708, I believe, but it was Scotts employment of it in The Antiquary which popularised it.

I thanked Bernard, and asked if we could stick to the point. He misunderstood me -- willfully, I think -- in a further attempt to evade the issue of Sir Humphreys access.

Yes -- the point is, Prime Minister, that I think you are confusing Mrs Centlivre with Old Capulet in Romeo and Juliet, Act III, Scene v when he said, Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds.

I thanked Bernard again, and told him to say that to Sir Humphrey.

He looked blank. Say what?

Proud me no prouds, Sir Humphrey.

Yes, Prime Minister. He was not looking at all happy. Um theres only one problem: if Im to deprive him of his key, what reason can I possibly give?

I lost my temper. Hes a born Civil Servant -- the man can only see problems. But with every problem theres also an opportunity. For Gods sake, Bernard, I snapped. Find a reason!

He retreated. Yes, Prime Minister. Thank you, Prime Minister.

I beamed at him over the top of my glasses. Thank me no thankings, Bernard.

[Dorothy Wainwrights memoirs, The Prime Ministers Ear , were a bestseller two or three years after the event described here. In this extract we see, from her point of view, what happened later that day when Bernard Woolley exercised the authority which Hacker had given him Ed.]

I was just contemplating my hoped-for move back into my old office, when I heard Bernards raised voice coming out of the Private Office on the other side of the lobby. I said no, Sir Humphrey, he said -- and then he said it again.

Intrigued, I popped in on the Private Office. Bernard was on the phone. His face was pink and he looked very agitated. I did say no, he was saying. The Prime Minister is busy.

Sir Humphrey, at the other end of the phone, must have offered to come to see Bernard because Bernard then said: Im busy too.

There seemed to be some abuse crackling down the line for a moment. Then Bernard drew himself up to his full five foot ten and a half, took a deep breath and said: Sir Humphrey, you may not come through. You do not have permission.

Humphrey shouted, Im coming anyway -- that could be heard across the room -- and slammed down his phone. Bernard rang off and sank into his chair, half delighted, half appalled. He looked at me with a dazed smile. He couldnt believe his ears, he said with delight.

What did he say?

That hes coming anyway.

Are you feeling strong enough? I asked with sympathy.

Bernard sat back and relaxed. Its all right, he cant come. I instructed Security to take the key from his office.

At that moment the door flew open. Sir Humphrey strode in. He was angrier than Ive ever seen him. There was literally steam coming out of his ears. [Literally, there could not have been Ed.]

Bernard leapt to his feet. My God!

No, Bernard, snarled Humphrey, its just your boss.

[Technically this description may have been correct, as Sir Humphrey Appleby was Head of the Home Civil Service. However, since moving to Number Ten Bernard Woolley no longer reported to Sir Humphrey. As the Principal Private Secretary to the Prime Minister he now had virtually as much power and influence as the Cabinet Secretary -- hence the row Ed.]

How did you get through a solid door? asked Bernard.

Where has my key gone? asked Sir Humphrey.

You must have a spare! deduced Bernard.

Where is my key? snarled Sir Humphrey.

Bernard took his courage in both hands. I was instructed by the Prime Minister to have it removed.

I thought I should come to Bernards rescue. Thats quite correct, I added.

Humphrey turned viciously. Would you mind, dear lady? he snarled. This has nothing to do with you. He turned back to Bernard. The Prime Minister does not have it in his power to deprive me of my key.

Its his house, said Bernard bravely.

Its a government building, said Sir Humphrey.

Bernard didnt panic or lose his nerve. I believe it is the PMs decision as to who comes into his house. After all, I dont give my mother-in-law the key to my house.

I almost laughed out loud. The analogy caused Humphrey to look as though he might explode with rage.

Im not the PMs mother-in-law, Bernard.

Bernard didnt reply. He didnt need to. He simply stood there in silence. After a moment Humphrey walked to the window and did some quiet slow deep breathing to calm himself down. Then he turned back to Bernard with a crocodile smile.

Look, Bernard, I dont want us to fall out over this. Its so petty of the Prime Minister. You and I have to work together for some years yet. Prime Ministers come and go -- whereas your career prospects depend on those who have power over promotions and appointments on a long-term basis.

Lets stick to the point, I said abrasively, and Humphrey flashed another vicious look in my direction. If looks could kill!

Bernard, to his great credit, did stick to the point. I must insist that you tell me how you came in.

Sir Humphrey immediately pursed his lips. It was his familiar my lips are sealed look.

You must have a personal key, said Bernard. Humphrey stayed silent. Are you telling me that you havent? Bernard asked.

Humphrey half-smiled. Im not telling you that I havent. Im simply not telling you that I have.

Bernard held out his hand. Hand it over!

Humphrey stared at Bernard for a few moments, then turned on his heel and walked out. Bernard sat down abruptly and hyperventilated for a bit. I told him hed done well.

He nodded. Then he reached for one of his phones. He called Security, told them to change the locks on the door connecting the Cabinet Office to the house, and told them to bring all the keys to him.

[Later on the same day, 3 March, there took place the weekly meeting of the Permanent Secretaries in Sir Humphrey Applebys office. A most instructive note was recently found in Sir Frank Gordons private diary, relating to a brief conversational exchange that happened informally after the meeting Ed.]

On my way out Humphrey asked me about my meeting with the PM. Didnt tell him that it shuddered to a halt after Humphreys unwelcome intrusion. Instead, told him it was v. successful.

He asked if any particular subject came up. I asked him if there were any particular subjects he was interested in. H asked me if the PM raised the issue of Service appointments, of if the PM foreshadowed any redistribution of responsibility. Since nothing was discussed by the PM I merely hinted that the topics may have cropped up, and that we had had a wide-ranging discussion.

Interestingly, he asked if it had moved towards any conclusion. He must be v. worried. I said that there were arguments on both sides, perhaps tending slightly one way more than the other way, but certainly nothing for me to worry about.

[Hackers diary continues Ed.]

March 6th

My plan was a total success. Humphrey knows his place at last. As I suggested to Dorothy only a day or two ago, it was time to clip Humphreys wings. [Alert readers may recall that, in an earlier entry in this diary, Hacker acknowledged that the suggestion to clip Applebys wings came from Dorothy Wainwright. Ed.]

Apparently Bernard changed the locks on the door between Number Ten and the Cabinet Office, so that Humphrey had to seek permission. When Humphrey phoned for permission to come through this morning, Bernard denied it.

Shortly afterwards, he and Dorothy heard thumps and bangings on the other side, accompanied by shouts of suppressed frenzy: Open the door! Open the door!

Humphrey then ran out of the front door of the Cabinet Office into Whitehall, round the corner, and up Downing Street to Number Ten. The two policemen wouldnt let him in because he had no appointment card and no Security pass -- only a Cabinet Office Security pass.

Bernard had instituted new security rules last week, apparently on Humphreys own instructions: no one may now be admitted unless they have the Number Ten pass or are on the daily list.

The policeman knows Humphrey well, of course, and apparently buzzed through to the Private Office for permission. But by then Bernard and Dorothy had come into the Cabinet Room for a meeting with me.

Humphrey must have run back into his office, jumped out of the window into the garden of Number Ten, run across the lawn and the flower beds and clambered up the wall cat-burglar style to the balcony outside the Cabinet Room.

Certainly the first I knew of all this was when I saw a muddy and dishevelled Sir Humphrey balanced precariously outside the French windows. I smiled and waved at him. He grasped the handle of the window and tried to open it -- and immediately we were absolutely deafened by bells and sirens. A moment later uniformed police and dogs and plain-clothes detectives rushed into the Cabinet Room.

We all shouted above the din that we were okay, and that we didnt need protecting from the Cabinet Secretary, however angry he was or however hurt his feelings.

The sirens were switched off.

Sir Humphrey stepped forward and handed me a letter, in his own handwriting.

Humphrey, I said, whats this?

He was speechless, fuming, fighting back tears, trying to retain his dignity. He couldnt speak -- he just indicated the piece of paper. I read it.

Cabinet Office

Dear Prime Minister,

I must express in the strongest possible terms my profound opposition to the newly instituted practice which imposes severe and intolerable restrictions on the ingress and egress of senior members of the hierarchy and will, in all probability, should the current deplorable innovation be perpetuated, precipitate a progressive constriction of the channels of communication, culminating in a condition of organisational atrophy and administrative paralysis which will render effectively impossible the coherent and co-ordinated discharge of the function of government within Her Majestys United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

Your obedient and humble servant,

Humphrey Appleby

I read it carefully. Then I looked up at Humphrey.

You mean youve lost your key? I asked.

Prime Minister, he said desperately, I must insist on having a new one.

Im ashamed to say I played games with him. In due course, Humphrey, I replied. At the appropriate juncture. In the fullness of time. Meanwhile, we have another decision to take. A more urgent one. About Dorothys office.

Quite! said Dorothy, aggressively.

Humphrey tried to brush this aside, as he always does. But I wouldnt let him. No, Humphrey, I explained with great patience, it has to be resolved now. One way or the other. Like the question of your key, really.

I could see from his face that the penny had finally dropped. While he wrestled with himself, I tried to give him a face-saving opening. I was wondering what your views were. They are, in a sense, the key to our problem. What do you think?

He gave me what he hoped would seem like a considered opinion and a dignified compromise. I think -- on reflection -- that Mrs Wainwright does need to be nearer this room, he said.

We were all relieved. So well move her back, shall we? He nodded. At once? He nodded again.

I told Bernard to give him the new key, I thanked him for his help and co-operation, and dismissed them all.

Later today, Bernard tells me, Sir Humphrey rang to ask if he could see me privately. I said Of course! Bernard magnanimously invited him over. Humphrey entered my study deferentially, and asked whether the other matter was resolved.

Other matter? I couldnt think what he meant.

He cleared his throat. May I, er, enquire who is to be the Head of the Home Civil Service?

You -- perhaps, I said. He smiled. Or, maybe, Sir Frank, I added. His smile faded. Or maybe share it like now. I havent decided yet. But whatever happens, its my decision, isnt it, Humphrey?

Yes Prime Minister, he replied, a sadder but wiser man.