First Among Equals

“The damn man missed another three-line whip, Charles. It must be the last time. You’ve been protecting him for far too long.”

“It won’t happen again,” promised Charles convincingly. “I would like to give him one more chance. Allow him that.”

“You’re very loyal to him,” said the Chief Whip. “But next time I’m going to see Kerslake myself and get to the bottom of it.”

“It won’t happen again,” repeated Charles.

“Hm,” said the Chief Whip. “Ne

xt problem is, are there any clauses on the European Bill that we should be worried about next week?”

“Yes,” replied Charles. “This haulage clause that Raymond Gould is fighting. He made a brilliant case on the floor of the House, and got all his own side and half of ours backing him.”

“He’s not the sponsored MP for the Haulage Union,” said the Chief Whip, surprised.

“No, the unions obviously felt Tom Carson wouldn’t help the cause and he’s hopping mad at the slight.”

“Clever of them to pick Gould. He improves as a speaker every time I hear him, and no one can fault him when it comes to a point of law.”

“So we’d better face the fact that we’re going to lose the clause?”

“Never. We’ll redraft the damn thing so that it’s acceptable and seen to be compassionate. It’s not a bad time to be the defender of the union interests. That way we’ll keep Gould from getting all the credit. I’ll speak to the PM tonight—and don’t forget what I said about Kerslake.”

Charles returned to his office and realized that in future he would have to be more careful about telling Simon Kerslake when he was paired for the European Bill. He suspected he had carried this ploy as far as he could for now.

Simon had read the final report prepared by his department on the O’Halloran case while Elizabeth was trying to get to sleep. He only had to go over the details once to realize that he would have to order a retrial and institute a full investigation into the past record of the police officers who had been involved in the case.

When Andrew heard the news, and that the retrial would be held in London, he asked Raymond Gould to represent O’Halloran.

“Praise indeed,” said Raymond, who still considered Andrew among the Commons’ finest orators. He somehow managed to fit O’Halloran into his busy schedule.

The trial was in its third day when Mr. Justice Comyns, after listening to Mrs. Bloxham’s evidence, stopped proceedings and instructed the jury to return a verdict of not guilty.

Andrew received praise from all quarters of the House, but he was quick to acknowledge the support given him by Simon Kerslake and the Home Office. The Times even wrote a leader the next day on the proper use of influence by a constituency MP.

Some months later the court awarded O’Halloran £25,000 in compensation. The only drawback Andrew’s success caused was that every convict’s mother north of Hadrian’s wall queued to tell him about her innocent son at his fortnightly surgery. But during the year he took only one seriously and once again began to check into the details.

During the long hot summer of 1972 clause after clause of the European Bill was voted on, often through the night. On some occasions the Government managed majorities of only five or six but somehow the bill remained intact.

Charles would often arrive home at Eaton Square at three in the morning to find Fiona asleep, only to leave again before she had woken. Veterans of the House, both servants and elected, confirmed they had never experienced anything like it since the Second World War.

And, just as suddenly, the last vote was taken and the marathon was over. The European Bill was through the Commons and on its way to the Upper House to receive their lordships’ approval. Charles wondered what he would do with all the hours that were suddenly left him in the day.

When the bill finally received the Royal Assent in October the Chief Whip held a celebration lunch at the Carlton Club in St. James’s to thank all his team. “And in particular, Charles Seymour,” he said, raising his glass during an impromptu speech. When the lunch broke up the Chief Whip offered Charles a lift back to the Commons in his official car. They traveled along Piccadilly, down Haymarket, through Trafalgar Square, and into Whitehall. Just as the Commons came into sight the black Rover turned into Downing Street, as Charles assumed, to drop the Chief Whip at No. 12. But as the car stopped the Chief Whip said, “The Prime Minister is expecting you in five minutes.”

“What? Why?” said Charles, as he joined his colleague outside No. 10.

“Timed it rather well, didn’t I?” said the Chief Whip—and headed off toward No. 12.

Charles stood alone in front of No. 10. The door was opened by a man in a long black coat. “Good afternoon, Mr. Seymour.”

The Prime Minister saw Charles in his study and, as ever, wasted no time on small talk.

“Thank you for all the hard work you have put in on the European Bill.”

“It was a tremendous challenge,” said Charles, searching for words.

“As will be your next job,” said Mr. Heath. “I want you to take over as one of the Ministers of State at the Department of Trade and Industry.”