Ministerial Diary: Day 4

Chloe welcomed me into the office this morning with an urgent piece of paper; an emergency requisition request for properties in the Westminster area, that would allow empty properties to be taken over to provide accommodation for the 132 staff working in my department.

“It’s so that staff don’t have to travel far to work, these are dangerous times with the tiger on the loose and we owe a duty of care to our employees.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, “this is using emergency powers under my Bill.”

“That’s right,” she said, “it’s why your Bill is so important.”

“But my Bill isn’t passed yet. How can you create new powers using legislation that isn’t passed?”

“It’s an emergency measure, of course, the usual rules don’t apply.”

“Just as long as it’s legal,” I said, adding my signature to the document. “I wouldn’t want to undermine the parliamentary process.”

I had also been given emergency accommodation near to my offices, another requisitioned property. It wasn’t first class accommodation by any means, I had taken over the flat above a corner store, with just a bedroom and kitchen to live in, though I did have my own personal shop to hand in case I needed anything. It came in very handy when I needed needle and threat to replace a button on my suit last night. I couldn’t’ resist taking a kit-kat while I was in the shop, am keeping a strict note of everything I use so that I can repay the storeholder should he or she return.

To the House for the Committee Stage of my Bill. Because of the sensitive nature of the Bill the meeting was held in secret and wasn’t recorded in Hansard. Another first for me, the first ‘secret debate’ since an emergency session of parliament during the second world war. Quite what that discussed I don’t know, it’s still regarded as secret sixty plus years later, it must either be some nuclear secret or some really naughty scam to line Winston’s pockets. I wonder - you notice how all Winston’s descendants are remarkably wealthy, without any of them ever seeming to do anything.

The Committee is packed with our supporters, just three Labour MPs and they are all front bench, not wanting to rock the boat at all. It ended up being a pleasant chat. I mentioned my shop, seized under the emergency powers. Apparently the Labour Shadow Home Secretary has got an entire hotel to herself, which she plans to use for running left-wing conferences once the emergency is over. At the moment she’s sleeping in a different room every night, and doesn’t always bother to tell her husband which room she’s sleeping in. “Last night I heard him prowling around the third floor, he’s worse than the tiger sometimes,” she said.

Just as well the Committee were all sympathetic to the Bill, as I had failed to notice that one of the latest round of Government amendments included a grant to a London university to experiment by mixing tiger genes with children, creating a new race of ‘tiger children’ that would “increase our understanding of the tiger threat” and “help us defeat the tiger.”

I didn’t like this amendment at all, but luckily it went through unchallenged. Thank goodness for a sympathetic Committee, though I do wonder how we’re going to get this section past the Lords, who always latch onto this sort of thing.

All in all a very tough day. I returned home to find that my shop had been looted, the police were everywhere, seizing the remaining stock as evidence. It made no sense to me, but I left the forces of law and order to get on with their essential work.

I texted The Man about my problems and he is going to move me up the security traffic light to red/amber, which means there will always be a guard on my house even when I’m in the Ministry.

Am about to go to bed, happy to know that Buster is standing guard outside my door. With the looters and tigers, not to mention the stress caused by my Bill, I shall be lucky to sleep a wink. Sometimes I think my ministerial salary is nowhere near enough to compensate for everything I have to go through.