Raymond did not reply and leaped into his car. He drove off so quickly that the pursuing journalists were left with no chance of catching him.
Twelve minutes later, at five to eight, he was seated in the anteroom of No. 10 Downing Street. As eight struck he was taken through to Harold Wilson’s study. He was surprised to find the Secretary of State for Employment seated in the corner of the room.
“Ray,” said the Prime Minister. “How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you, Prime Minister.”
“I was sorry to receive your letter and thoroughly understand the position you are in, but I hope perhaps we can work something out.”
“Work something out?” Raymond repeated, puzzled.
“Well, we all realize devaluation is a problem for you after Full Employment at Any Cost? but I felt perhaps a move to the Foreign Office as Minister of State might be a palatable way out of the dilemma. It’s a promotion you’ve well earned.”
Raymond hesitated. The Prime Minister continued. “It may interest you to know that the Chancellor of the Exchequer has also resigned, but will be moving to the Home Office.”
“I am surprised,” said Raymond.
“What with the problems we are about to tackle in Rhodesia and Europe your legal skills would come in very useful.”
Raymond remained silent as he listened to the Prime Minister; he knew what decision he must now make.
Monday usually gets off to a quiet start in the Commons. The Whips never plan for any contentious business to be debated, remembering that members are still arriving back from their constituencies all over the country. The House is seldom full before the early evening. But the knowledge that the Chancellor of the Exchequer would be making a statement on devaluation at three-thirty ensured that the Commons would be packed long before that hour.
The green benches, accommodating just 427 members, had deliberately been restored as they were after the Germans had bombed the Palace of Westminster on 10 May 1941. The intimate theatrical atmosphere of the House had remained intact. Sir Giles Gilbert Scott could not resist highlighting some of the Gothic decor of Barry, but he concurred with Churchill’s view that to enlarge the Chamber would only destroy the packed atmosphere of great occasions.
The Commons filled up quickly, and by two-forty-five there was not a seat to be found. Members huddled up on the steps by the Speaker’s canopied chair and around the legs of the chairs of the clerks at the table. One or two even perched like unfed sparrows on the empty petition bag behind the Speaker’s chair. The galleries to the side and above the Chamber, which normally resembled empty benches at the Oval on a rainy day, had taken on the look of a crucial last Test match against Australia.
The chief doorkeeper checked his supply of snuff that it had been his office to keep since those days when “unpleasant odors” wafted through London.
Raymond Gould rose to answer question number seven on the order paper, an innocent enough inquiry concerning supplementary benefits for women. As soon as he reached the dispatch box the first cries of “Resign” came from the Tory benches. Raymond couldn’t hide his embarrassment. Even those seated on the back benches could see he had gone scarlet. It didn’t help that he hadn’t slept the previous night following the agreement he had come to with the Prim
e Minister. He answered the question, but the calls for his resignation did not subside. The Opposition fell silent as he sat down, only waiting for him to rise for a further question. The next question on the order paper for Raymond to answer was from Simon Kerslake; it came a few minutes after three. “What analysis has been made by his department of the special factors contributing to increasing unemployment in the Midlands?”
Raymond checked his brief before replying. “The closure of two large factories in the area, one in the Honorable member’s constituency, has exacerbated local unemployment. Both of these factories specialized in car components which have suffered from the Leyland strike.”
Simon Kerslake rose slowly from his place to put his supplementary. The Opposition benches waited in eager anticipation. “But surely the minister remembers informing the House, in reply to my adjournment debate last April, that devaluation would drastically increase unemployment in the Midlands, indeed in the whole country. If the Honorable Gentleman’s words are to carry any conviction, why hasn’t he resigned?” Simon sat down as the Tory benches demanded, “Why, why, why?”
“My speech to the House on that occasion is being quoted out of context, and the circumstances have since changed.”
“They certainly have,” shouted a number of Conservatives and the benches opposite Raymond exploded with demands that he give up his office.
“Order, order,” shouted the Speaker into the tide of noise.
Simon rose again, while everyone on the Conservative benches remained seated to ensure no one else was called. They were now hunting as a pack. Everyone’s eyes switched back and forth between the two men, watching the dark, assured figure of Kerslake once again jabbing his forefinger at the bowed head of Raymond Gould who was now only praying for the clock to reach three-thirty.
“Mr. Speaker, during the debate, which he now seems happy to orphan, the Honorable Gentleman was only echoing the views he so lucidly expressed in his book Full Employment at Any Cost? Can those views have altered so radically in three years, or is his desire to remain a minister so great that he now realizes that his employment can be retained at any cost?”
“This question has nothing to do with what I said to the House on that occasion,” retorted Raymond angrily. His last few words were lost in Opposition shouts of “Resign, resign!”
Simon was up in a flash and the Speaker called him for a third time.
“Is the Honorable Gentleman telling the House that he has one set of moral standards when he speaks, and yet another when he writes?”
The House was now in total uproar and few members heard Raymond say, “No, sir, I try to be consistent.”
The Speaker rose and the noise subsided slightly. He looked about him with an aggrieved frown. “I realize the House feels strongly on these matters, but I must ask the Honorable member for Coventry Central to withdraw his remark suggesting that the minister has behaved dishonorably.”
Simon rose and retracted his statement at once, but the damage had been done. Nor did it stop members from calling “Resign” until Raymond left the Chamber a few minutes later.