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.