UK Politics
The mystery of the mole is solved
Published 12 March 2007
Tony dares David to do something naughty and David dares Tony to do something naughty, while Leo is persuaded to say that he did something naughty
Scene 1: No 10. Evening. Tony and David Miliband are sharing a post-supper drink. Tony sips Chardonnay. David has warm milk and a rusk.
Tony: It's obvious, David. Gordon is the new Clause Four. If we don't get rid of him we'll be sleepwalking into electoral disaster. And all this renewal business, it's cobblers. He was the wrong man when the time was right, so how can he be the right man now that the time's wrong? Action is what we need, David, and I don't mean Noddy and Big Ears and their stupid bloody website. They might as well hand out anti-Gordon leaflets at the door of the Co-op. And then hold a flipping jumble sale. Useless! The party's on the brink. Our future's in the balance. What we need is a man of guts and integrity to sneak up and stab Gordon in the back. So . . .
Miliband: Nice talking to you, Tony. Ooh, quarter to ten. Past my bedtime.
Tony: You disappoint me, David. Please! Stand for the leadership.
Miliband [blanching]: He'd kill me. [Beat] Slowly. He'd rip my limbs apart and stuff curry paste into the gaps.
Tony: Oh come on. He's not some invincible psychotic robot.
Miliband: That's exactly what he is.
Tony: Take the plunge. You've got an excellent chance of winning. You really have.
Miliband throws down his rusk defiantly.
Miliband: All right, damn it. I will stand.
Tony: Fantastic!
Miliband: On one condition.
Tony: What?
Miliband: Sack Gordon.
Tony: Right . . .
Miliband: And make me chancellor.
Tony: Hang on. I can't do that.
Miliband: See? Not so easy, is it?
Tony: Yes, but I'd look completely absurd. I've spent ten years telling him, and everyone else, that he's the best chancellor we've ever had.
Miliband: Right. So you congratulate him on having brought the economy to a peak of perfection, and tell him his invaluable talents are now required in, say, Work and Pensions.
Tony: You want me to tell him that?
Miliband: Sure.
Tony [blanching]: He'd kill me. [Beat] Slowly. He'd rip my limbs apart and stuff curry paste into the gaps . . .
Scene 2: Downing Street. Tony is bringing his monthly press conference to an end.
Tony: . . . And finally I'd like to clear up a couple of questions. A certain email has been the subject of great speculation lately. I'm afraid the whole thing is just froth and bubble. Perhaps not many of you realise that Lord Levy likes to throw weekend house parties at his home, which is called "Ta Ketherap", from an Aramaic phrase meaning "health and happiness". Of course, we can't all sacrifice an entire weekend for a party, and someone who'd been invited might well express regret that Levy had asked them to "Ta Ketherap". I hope I've put that one to bed.
The second question surrounds the Downing Street mole. It's alleged that a computer whizz-kid inside No 10 has been circulating emails in all directions. At one point, the finger was even pointing at me! But as we all know, I'm about as quick at the computer as David Cameron is at denying a drug story. Ha! Anyway, I've tracked down the mole. And here he is. Bring on the whizz-kid.
He turns. The doors open and Leo is shoved into the room clutching a chocolate bun and a scrap of notepaper.
Tony: Hi, Leo. Here are the nice people I told you about. You've got something to say to them. Yes? Go on.
Leo [reading]: "Hello everyone. I have been very naughty. I was playing with the computer in Daddy's big room and I was fiddling with the buttons and I think I rot things . . ."
Tony [sotto voce]: "Wrote things."
Leo: ". . . I wrote things that were not true and I sent emails to people that I shouldn't of and I am very sorry. Count to three. Start crying."
Tony [snatching paper away]: Very good, Leo. So, mystery solved. Naughty Leo. Thanks, everyone. See you next month.
Michael White: Can I ask Leo a question?
Tony: Please, Michael. My child is not a political pawn. Thank you.
Leo: Daddy, can we -
Tony: Shut up, Leo. Wave the nice people goodbye.
The journalists start to leave.
Leo: Can we go to Disneyland now?
Tony: Not just yet.
Leo: You said we could go to Disneyland.
Tony: Yes. Eat your bun.
He shoves the bun into Leo's mouth. Leo spits it out.
Leo: You said if I said I was playing on your computer we could go to Disneyland.
The journalists halt.
Tony: Er, rubbish, Leo. I never said that.
Leo: You promised.
Tony: Actually, that was an aspiration. But instead, we've all been invited to Ta Ketherap by Lord Levy. Not that we have to accept just yet.
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