David Cameron is sat in his office in Downing Street. Opposite him sat the Chancellor of the Exchequer, George Osborne. The silence in the room did all the talking for both of the men. The night before David Cameron’s coalition government had suffered a terrible night in the local elections.
The local elections are seen traditionally as a test of how the incumbent government are doing in the eyes of the electorate. No MP’s seats are up for grabs so a government cannot be brought down. That said every local council up for election can feel the pressure on the party in power.
The local elections this year had been a disaster for David Cameron. The Conservative Party had lost a total of 405 councillors. His Liberal Democrat colleagues in power had lost 336 councillors whereas the main opposition party, The Labour Party, had gained 823. Now David Cameron and George Osborne sat waiting for the result of the final vote of the evening, the race for the Mayor of London. David looked across at his Chancellor, his disturbing dreams had tailed off slightly of late and no longer was he waking up in a pool of his own midnight sweat having been awoken by George Osborne standing naked before him but he still struggled to maintain eye contact with the man who sat across from him.
“Nervous, Prime Minister?” George asked of David.
“These elections have been a nightmare for us. We are relying totally on the London Mayoral election now” David replied.
“Now is not the time for wavering. We must be strong” George looked deeply into the eyes of David from across the desk, “we cannot let anything distract us.”
A bead of sweat trickled down the side of David’s head. It was moments like this, seemingly innocent ones to outsiders, that affected David more than anything else. There was just something in the way that his Chancellor spoke at times that, as ridiculous at it sounded, gave the impression that he knew the deepest and darkest secrets of David’s mind.
David tried to suppress such thoughts as the office fell quiet while waiting for news of the London Mayoral Election. The incumbent Mayor, representing the Conservative Party was Boris Johnson was going up against the former Mayor and Labour Party candidate Ken Livingstone. Boris was seen as somewhat as a liability by some within the upper echelons of the Conservative Party but he was also popular amongst the general public. David knew that this particular election was important not just for London but for his own Party. If Boris lost David knew that he would run for parliament and his popularity could spell problems for his own leadership. If Boris was in Parliament and David was seen to be in danger of losing the next General Election there was a possibility of a coup within his own Party and of Boris replacing him at the head. It had happened before with Thatcher it could happen again. Boris must win this election and stay out of Parliament.
The computer on the desk to the left of David beeped. He pressed a key and turned the screen so that it faced both he and George. The picture on the screen took a second or two to load. A white-haired gentleman appeared on the screen. It was Boris. He was dressed in a suit although the tie was skewiff somewhat and the left side of the collar was stuck up.
Boris was talking. “Hello? Hello? Anybody there? How do you get this blasted thing to work? Oh bother! Is there an on switch on this thing?”
David replied. “Boris, Boris, we are here”
Boris looked directly through the screen. “What? Oh yes, so you are. Spiffing!” As Boris spoke his hair moved around independently like some kind of sheepdog had made its home atop his head.
David continued talking. “Me and George are here waiting for news of the election”
Boris interrupted. “What? Ozzie’s there? Marvellous! How are you?”
George baulked at the nickname. “I’m fine”
David tried to continue. “Has the result been announced yet?”
Boris looked confused for a moment. “Result? Oh, er, ah, yes. I have it here somewhere” David and George sat patiently while they watched Boris Johnson rummage around his pockets “I have it here somewhere”, Boris took out a crumpled piece of paper from his trouser pocket, “ah, yes, knew I had it somewhere, now let me see” Boris unravelled the paper “sorry, it’s a bit hard to read as I spilt some foie gras on it before”.
Boris squinted his eyes, David tried to look patient while George could not hide his contempt. “Ah yes” Boris said “I won! Marvellous, what?”
David smiled “That is indeed marvellous news”
George looked directly at David. “Yes it is marvellous. Had Boris lost that election then we really would have had our bottoms spanked. Trousers down the lot and I for one do not fancy having my trousers pulled down, do you?”
David shuffled uncomfortably in his chair, “No, I do not want your trousers pulled down”
“My trousers?” George replied pulling that face that made him peer through the top of his eyes. “Why would you want my trousers pulled down indeed?”
“I meant mine of course!”
“Yes, yes, of course” George rose from his seat “now I’m afraid I must dash”
George went to leave the room, he opened the door and then turned back to David and spoke across the office “David, just to let you know I was just playing with you then, I know you meant your trousers just then, after all, who would want to see me naked eh?”
George left the room without waiting for an answer leaving David sat alone behind his desk sweat, pouring from his forehead. The only sound came from Boris Johnson who had not realised the meeting was over. “Champers? Most defo! Chin, chin!”
