First Among Equals

“If that gets through the House my boys are in deep trouble.”

“Why?” said Raymond.

“Because those bloody Frogs know only too well that there’s a Channel between us and them, and if my lads are forced by law to sleep a night each side the only people who’ll end up making money on the deal will be the guest-house proprietors.”

“What’s behind it?” asked Raymond.

“They want us to drop the stuff our end, so they can pick it up on the other side.”

“But wouldn’t that also be true when they need to deliver goods to us?”

“No. Their journeys are much longer to the coast, and they have to stay overnight anyway, not to mention the fact that there are eight of them to one of us. It’s diabolical, nothing less.”

Raymond studied the wording in detail while Edwards helped himself to another vodka.

“The clause doesn’t stop you from going over the next day.”

“And how much do you think that will add to your costs?” asked Raymond.

“I’ll tell you, enough to make us uncompetitive, that’s how much,” replied the trade union leader.

“Point taken,” said Raymond. “So what’s wrong with asking your own member to put the case?”

“Don’t trust him. He’s pro-European at any price.”

“And what about your sponsored trade union representative in the House?”

“Tom Carson? You must be joking. He’s so far to the left that even his own side are suspicious when he supports a cause. We lost the ‘tachograph’ clause because he championed it. In any case I only put him in the House to get him off my back.” Raymond laughed. “Now, all my General Purposes Committee want to know is: would you be willing to fight this clause in the House for us? Not that we can afford the sort of fees you’re used to at the bar,” he added.

“There would be no fee involved,” said Raymond, “but I’m sure you’ll be able to repay me in kind sometime in the future.”

“Got the picture,” said Edwards, touching the side of his nose with a forefinger. “What do I do next?”

“You go back to Liverpool and hope that I am better on an away pitch than your team.”

Norman Edwards put on an old raincoat and started to button it up. He smiled at Raymond. “I may have been appalled by your book, Ray. But it doesn’t mean I didn’t admire it.”

The Speaker looked down at the front bench. “Mr. Andrew Fraser.”

“Number seventeen, sir,” said Andrew.

The Speaker looked down to check over the question, seeking a Home Office answer.

Simon rose to the dispatch box, opened his file, and said, “Yes, sir.”

“Mr. Andrew Fraser,” called the Speaker again.

Andrew rose from his place on the Opposition front bench to put his supplementary.

“May I thank the minister for agreeing to an inquiry so quickly, and ask him that, if he discovers an injustice has been done to my constituent Mr. Paddy O’Halloran, that the Home Secretary will order a retrial immediately?”

Simon rose again.

“Yes, sir.”

“I am grateful to the Honorable Gentleman,” said Andrew, half-rising from his place.

All over in less than a minute, but older members who listened to the brief exchange between Fraser and Kerslake in the House that day had no doubt that considerable preparation had gone into that minute from both sides.