This Was A Man (12 page)

‘I, Emma Elizabeth Clifton, swear by Almighty God, that I will be faithful, and bear allegiance to Her Majesty the Queen, her heirs and successors, according to the law, so help me
God.’

The table clerk turned the page of a large parchment manuscript so the new member could add her name to the test roll. He offered her a pen which she politely declined in favour of one that had
been given to her by her grandfather, Lord Harvey, at her christening almost sixty years ago.

Once Emma had signed the test roll, she glanced up at the Distinguished Strangers’ Gallery, to see Harry, Karin, Sebastian, Samantha, Grace and Jessica smiling down at her with
unmistakable pride. She smiled back, and when she lowered her eyes, saw a lady from the Commons standing at the bar of the House. The Prime Minister gave her a slight bow, and Emma returned the
compliment.

The Baroness Clifton followed her brother along the front bench, past the Woolsack on which sat the law lords, until she reached the Speaker’s chair. The clerk of the house stepped forward
and introduced the new peer to the Lord Speaker.

‘Welcome to the House, Lady Clifton,’ he said, shaking her warmly by the hand. This was followed by cries of ‘Hear, hear’ from all sides of the chamber as her fellow
peers added their traditional welcome to a new member.

Giles then led his sister past the throne, where several members who were sitting on the steps smiled as she continued out of the east door and into the Prince’s Chamber. Once they were
outside the chamber, she removed her tricorn hat and breathed a long sigh of relief.

‘It sounded as if the lions rather liked the look of you,’ said Giles, as he bent down to kiss his sister on both cheeks, ‘although I did notice one or two of my colleagues
licking their lips in anticipation of your first appearance at the despatch box.’

‘Don’t be fooled by your brother,’ said Belstead. ‘He’ll be among those licking his lips when the time comes for you to face the opposition.’

‘But not until you’ve delivered your maiden speech, sis. However, after that, I’m bound to admit, you’ll be fair game.’

‘So what next?’ asked Emma.

‘Tea with the family on the terrace,’ Giles reminded her.

‘And once you’re free,’ said Belstead, ‘may I suggest you slip back into the chamber and take your place on the end of the front bench. For the next few days, I would
advise you to observe the workings of the House, accustom yourself to our strange ways and traditions, before you consider delivering your maiden speech.’

‘The only speech you’ll make when no members will even consider interrupting you, and whoever follows will praise your contribution as if you were Cicero.’

‘And what then?’

‘You must prepare for your first questions as Under Secretary of State for Health,’ said Belstead, ‘and try not to forget there will be several senior members of the medical
profession in attendance.’

‘When the gloves will be off,’ said Giles. ‘And you needn’t expect any brotherly love, even from your kith and kin. The gentle smiles and “Hear, hear”s will
only be coming from your side of the House.’

‘And you won’t always be able to rely on them,’ said Belstead with a wry smile.

‘Nevertheless, sis, welcome to the House. I confess, I feel a glow of pride whenever one of my fellow peers says, “Did you know, that’s Lord Barrington’s
sister?”’

‘Thank you, Giles,’ said Emma. ‘I look forward to the day when one of my fellow peers says, “Did you know, that’s Lady Clifton’s brother?”’

Tap, tap, tap. Karin was the first to wake. She turned over, assuming she must be dreaming.

Tap, tap, tap. A little louder.

Suddenly she was wide awake. She climbed slowly out of bed and, not wanting to disturb Giles, tiptoed across to the window. Tap, tap, tap, even louder.

‘Is that what I think it is?’ said a sleepy voice.

‘I’m about to find out,’ said Karin as she pulled open the curtain and stared down at the pavement.

‘Good God,’ she said, and had disappeared out of the bedroom before Giles could ask her what was going on.

Karin ran down the stairs and quickly unlocked the front door to find a young boy hunched up on the doorstep, shivering.

‘Come in,’ she whispered. But he seemed reluctant to move until she put an arm around his shoulder and said, ‘I don’t know about you, Freddie, but I could do with a hot
chocolate. Why don’t you come inside and see what we can find?’

He took her hand as they walked along the hall and into the kitchen, just as Giles appeared on the landing.

‘Do sit down, Freddie,’ said Karin, pouring some milk into a saucepan. Giles joined them. ‘How did you get here?’ she added, casually.

‘I took the train down from Edinburgh, but I hadn’t realized how late it was by the time I arrived in London. I’ve been sitting on your doorstep for over an hour,’ he
explained. ‘I didn’t want to wake you, but it was getting rather cold.’

‘Did you tell your headmaster or Lord Fenwick that you were coming to see us?’ asked Giles, as Karin opened a tin of biscuits.

‘No. I sneaked out of chapel during prayers,’ he confessed. Karin placed a mug of hot chocolate and a plate of shortbread biscuits on the table in front of their unexpected
guest.

‘Did you let anyone know, even a friend, that you planned to visit us?’

‘I don’t have many friends,’ admitted Freddie, sipping his chocolate. He looked up at Giles and added, ‘Please don’t tell me I have to go back.’ Giles
couldn’t think of a suitable reply.

‘Let’s worry about that in the morning,’ said Karin. ‘Drink up, and then I’ll take you to the guest bedroom so you can get some sleep.’

‘Thank you, Lady Barrington,’ said Freddie. He finished off his hot chocolate. ‘I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble.’

‘You haven’t,’ said Karin. ‘But now let’s get you off to bed.’ She took his hand once again and led him out of the room.

‘Goodnight, Lord Barrington,’ said a far more cheerful voice.

Giles switched on the kettle and took a teapot down from the shelf above him. While he waited for the kettle to boil, he picked up the phone, dialled directory enquiries and asked for the number
of Freddie’s prep school in Scotland. Once he’d made a note of it, he checked to make sure he had Archie Fenwick’s home number in his phone book. He decided that seven a.m. would
be a sensible hour to contact them both. The kettle began to whistle just as Karin reappeared.

‘He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, poor fellow.’

Giles poured her a cup of tea. ‘You were so calm and reassuring. Frankly I wasn’t quite sure what to say or do.’

‘How could you be?’ said Karin. ‘You’ve never experienced someone knocking on your door in the middle of the night.’

When the Baroness Clifton of Chew Magna rose to deliver her maiden speech in the House of Lords, the packed chamber fell silent. She looked up at the Distinguished
Strangers’ Gallery to see Harry, Sebastian, Samantha and Grace smiling down at her – but not Jessica. Emma wondered where she was. She turned her attention to the opposition front
bench, where the shadow leader of the House sat, arms crossed. He winked.

‘My lords,’ she began, her voice trembling. ‘You must be surprised to see this newly minted minister standing at the despatch box addressing you. But I can assure you, no one
was more surprised than me.’

Laughter broke out on both sides of the House, which helped Emma to relax.

‘Lord Harvey of Gloucester sat on these benches some fifty years ago, and Lord Barrington of Bristol Docklands sits on the other side of the House as the opposition leader. You see before
you their inadequate granddaughter and sister.

‘The Prime Minister has allowed me this opportunity to continue my work in the health service, not this time as a member of the board of a great hospital, its deputy chairman or even
chairman, but as one of the government’s undersecretaries of state. And I want members of this House to be in no doubt that I intend to carry out my duties as a minister with the same
scrutiny and rigour that I have tried to bring to every position I have held, in both public office and private life.

‘The National Health Service, my lords, is at a crossroads, although I know exactly in which direction I want it to go. In me, you will find a devoted champion of the surgeon, the doctor,
the nurse and, most important of all, the patient. And as I look around this chamber, I can see one or two of you who might well be in need of the NHS in the not-too-distant future.’

Emma had considered the line added by her brother a little risky, but Giles had assured her that their lordships, unlike Queen Victoria, would be amused. He was right. They roared with laughter
as she smiled across the despatch box at the leader of the opposition.

‘And to that end, my lords, I shall continue to fight overweening bureaucracy, the fear of innovation, and overpaid and overrated special advisors who have never wielded a scalpel or
emptied a bedpan.’

The House roared its approval.

‘But just as important,’ said Emma, lowering her voice, ‘I will never forget the sage words of my grandfather, Lord Harvey, when as a young child I had the temerity to ask him,
“What’s the point of the House of Lords?” “To serve,” he replied, “and keep those knaves in the Commons in check.”’

This statement brought cheers from both sides of the House.

‘So let me assure your lordships,’ Emma concluded, ‘that will always be my mantra whenever I take a decision on behalf of the government I serve. And finally, may I thank the
House for its kindness and indulgence towards a woman who is painfully aware that she is not worthy to stand at the same despatch box as her grandfather or brother.’

Emma sat down to prolonged cheers and the waving of order papers, and those members who had wondered why this woman had been plucked out of obscurity were no longer in any doubt that Margaret
Thatcher had made the right decision. Once the House had settled, Lord Barrington rose from his place on the opposition front bench and looked benignly across at his sister before he began his
unscripted speech. Emma wondered when she would be able to do that, if ever.

‘My lords, if I display a fraternal pride today, I can only hope the House will be indulgent. When the minister and I squabbled as children, I always won, but that was only because I was
bigger and stronger. However, it was our mother who pointed out that once we both grew up, I would discover that I had won the battle, but not the argument.’

The opposition laughed while those seated on the government benches cried, ‘Hear, hear!’

‘But allow me to warn my noble kinswoman,’ continued Giles, sounding serious for the first time, ‘that her moment of triumph may be short-lived, because when the time comes for
the government to present its new health bill, she should not expect to enjoy the same indulgence from this side of the House. We will scrutinize the bill line by line, clause for clause, and I do
not have to remind the noble baroness that it was the Labour Party under Clement Attlee who founded the National Health Service, not this jumped-up bunch of bandwagon Tories, who are temporarily
sitting on the government benches.’

The opposition cheered their leader.

‘So I am happy to congratulate my noble kinswoman on a remarkable maiden speech, but advise her to savour the moment, because when she next returns to the despatch box, this side of the
House will be sitting in wait for her, and let me assure the noble baroness that she will no longer be able to rely on any fraternal assistance. On that occasion she will have to win both the
battle and the argument.’

The opposition benches looked as if they couldn’t wait for the confrontation.

Emma smiled, and wondered how many people in the chamber would believe how much of her speech had been worked on by the same noble lord who was now jabbing an index finger at her. He had even
listened to it being delivered in his kitchen in Smith Square the previous night. She only wished their mother could have been seated in the public gallery to watch them squabbling again.