David Waddington Memoirs by David Waddington

Author:David Waddington [David Waddington]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781849543194
Publisher: Biteback Publishing
Published: 2012-10-17T04:00:00+00:00

Also in that summer some crackpot decided that a government motion should be tabled incorporating a loyal address to the Queen drawing attention to the tercentenary of the Glorious Revolution of 1688. No one consulted me, the motion appeared on the order paper on a day on which the Party was not whipped – and the motion was debatable. Tony Benn seized what was an obvious opportunity to cause us maximum embarrassment and rose to speak on the motion, and after an hour or so it was clear that there was going to be a vote which could easily lead to a government defeat. Such a result would be construed as an insult to the Queen but would be even clearer evidence of the Chief Whip’s incompetence.

But where were the Conservatives needed to support the motion? Everywhere it seemed, except in the Palace of Westminster. A lot had, I knew, gone to the Carlton Club for the One Nation Group summer cocktail party. I could not leave the House but ready at hand were Gilly and Paddy Hunt, my deputy’s wife. Off to the Carlton Club they went and descended on the party goers. ‘Back to the House,’ they said, ‘quick, sharp,’ and back they came. One Tory MP was reported as saying: ‘The wives were brilliant. They sorted out the problem and were more competent at it than their husbands.’ Prudently he asked that his name should not be disclosed.

Leading up to the reshuffle Peter Brooke as Party Chairman and I had had three or four meetings with the Prime Minister over supper on a Sunday night. On one such occasion, we sat down to eat, but after a few minutes the Prime Minister said: ‘It does seem unfair; here are we enjoying ourselves and poor Denis is having supper all alone upstairs in the flat.’ Peter Brooke and I, taking what we thought was a pretty broad hint, told her to invite him down. The PM thanked us and said she could guarantee that Denis would not say a word when we were talking about the reshuffle. Denis then came down and on the whole was pretty good but at one stage he could not contain himself. ‘Oh surely not so-and-so. You were only saying the other day, Margaret, what a complete wimp he was.’

When it came to discussing ministerial appointments one thing was quite apparent and that was that the Prime Minister liked a pretty face; once or twice she had to be discouraged when she wished to see some good-looking fellow promoted who was known throughout the Parliamentary Party to be pretty useless. Indeed, there was a time when her eyes lighted on a minister who for a time she talked of as a possible successor. He was a fine-looking chap but no one else thought that he was anything like up to the job. I am talking of an interesting foible; I am not suggesting, for one moment, that she was not perfectly capable in the ordinary course of events of picking competent people to fill posts.

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