UK Politics
The Brown new year is full of surprises
Published 08 January 2007
Tony looks for inspiration in a Bee Gee mansion, while Gordon rediscovers his Scottish roots
Scene 1: Florida. Robin Gibb's beachside mansion. Tony is busy on his laptop. Having spent the morning deleting emails, he's now completing a press release. Cherie dozes beside him in a face pack made of purified dolphin blubber.
Tony: Darling?
Cherie: Mmmmsleeeepy.
Tony: Is this statement any good? "At last the world has rid itself of a vile and corrupt dictator who terrorised the Middle East with illegal wars, and tore his country apart while cowering in luxurious palaces paid for by the sweat of others."
Cherie: But you're still in power.
Tony: No, you twit. I'm talking about Saddam.
Cherie: Oh. Well, hang on to it. Might do for your resignation speech.
Tony: Thanks.
Scene 2: Outer Hebrides. A hurricane has blown the roof off the Browns' holiday cottage. They crouch around a peat fire as Gordon gleefully pulls out a roast potato.
Gordon: Nothing quite like the magic of Christmas, eh Sarah?
Sarah: Loving every minute, darling. Er, can we go home now?
Gordon: Home? We are home. Let's stay for Burns Night.
Sarah: Oh God. That's not till the end of January.
Gordon: Ah, but it's wonderful. There's haggis and whisky, and I'll recite the whole of Tam O'Shanter and -
Sarah: But darling, the press mustn't find you being all Scottish. You've got to be English.
Gordon: I don't care any more.
Sarah: Well, you can't bank on getting the leadership. You know how slippery Tony is.
Gordon: I doubt we'll be hearing from him again.
Sarah: Why?
Gordon: There's a little surprise in store for him.
Scene 3: Florida airspace. A British Airways 747 has just reached cruising altitude. In First Class, Tony and Leo are playing snap. Cherie stands in the aisle auctioning the family Christmas cards.
Cherie: Lot Six is an exceptionally valuable item. "Peace and goodwill to all mankind. George and Laura Bush." Do I hear 50 pounds? [Pause] 25? [Pause] A tenner? [Pause] No? 50p anyone? [Pause] OK, that didn't reach the reserve price. Next up is Lot Seven. "It's not as bad as you think in there. Love, Mary and Jeffrey Arch-" Er, sorry. Forget that one.
Straight on to Lot Eight, signed by Sir Paul. Oh, and Heather too. Must be last year's. A collector's item. Do I hear 500?
She moves down the aisle, pushing up the prices with fake bids.
Leo: Can we say hello to the captain, Daddy?
Tony: Come on then.
Leo: Then I can fly the plane.
Tony and Leo approach the cockpit door. Tony knocks. No answer. He opens it and finds the pilot, in a parachute and life jacket, about to bale out through the window.
Tony: Oh my God.
Pilot: Sweet dreams, Mr Blair!
He leaps out and disappears. The plane goes into a nosedive.
Leo: Oh goody, let me fly, Daddy.
Tony: Wait. I'll do it.
Tony hits the Autopilot button and the plane pulls out of its descent.
Tony: Phew! Thank God. I think we're OK. These things can land in any conditions.
Leo: Let me sit in the captain's chair.
Tony: OK. But first we'll have a word with the passengers. Push that.
Leo presses the Public Address button. Tony clears his throat.
Tony: Hello everyone. This is your prime minister speaking. Sorry about that sudden downward plunge but, true to form, I've pulled us out of trouble just in time. At the moment we seem to be flying without a pilot - just like the John Major years - but the automated guidance systems are working perfectly so there's no need to panic. I expect the "forces of Conservatism" on board will want me to turn back. But I have no reverse gear. And nor does this plane. Now, there's clearly been a breach of security at the airport, which underlines how vitally important it is that we introduce biometric identity cards without delay. And while I'm talking about our exciting new legislative programme, let me correct some misapprehensions about city academies. Far from being havens of crack dealing and knife crime, these centres of excellence will foster such idyllic communal activities as skipping, British Bulldog, and "Who's Got the Lurgy?" . . .
Unknown to Tony, the passengers have mutinied. They storm the cockpit and grab Tony by the ears. He is frogmarched the length of the plane and dumped in Economy. Cherie is forced to sit beside him.
Tony: Goodness me, it's cramped in here. Stewardess? Glass of Chardonnay, please.
Scene 4: Eight hours later. Still chafing in Economy seats, Tony and Cherie sip Blue Nun from plastic cups. Leo is at the controls and lands the plane too fast. It slews to a halt on a grass verge.
Cherie [peers out]: Oh Jesus. We've overshot the runway.
Tony: At least we're safe.
Cherie: It's a disaster. I'll have to walk to the gift shop.
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