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.