Bertie and the Kinky Politician by Mike A Vickers Page A

findings to the Cabinet. Reviews have so often in the past been diluted by internal politics and diverted by vested interests, but I can assure you no such prevarication will occur this time. I have asked for a meticulous investigation into the costs of running all Ministry of Defence administrative departments and operational agencies, starting here in Whitehall, and those that cannot justify their existence in these rapidly changing times may well fall by the wayside.’
    The Prime Minister dropped his files in shock, a reaction not entirely lost on the Opposition, nor missed by the cameras. Viv Bell perked up and grinned like a Cheshire cat. James forged on regardless. This was his moment. ‘Since the end of the Cold War, the continually swelling levels of expenditure of these shadowy departments have remained largely unchallenged, but for no longer. This penetrating examination has already begun and will concentrate on identifying those areas where profligate bureaucracy runs unchecked, and will commence with – Ow!’
    James jerked to a halt with a squeak of surprise at the sharp pain in the back of his thigh. There was a sudden collective gasp of shock in the chamber followed by a deathly silence. James looked down and to his utter amazement discovered he’d been stabbed.
    By the PM!
    Nonplussed, he gaped at the magnificently engraved golden shaft of the pen protruding from his thigh, then raised his eyes and stared into a face white with fury.

Chapter Six
    â€˜So what happened next?’
    Celeste relaxed on the sofa with Bertie perched behind. He sat quietly with eyes half closed, floating along in that deliciously pleasant limbo-land between consciousness and slumber, a wing occasionally twitching.
    â€˜Well, there was a bit of a stunned silence,’ said James.
    â€˜I can imagine.’
    â€˜Unusual for the House of Commons – more often than not there’s some pompous twit shouting his mouth off or blustering in outraged froth about something pointless.’
    â€˜That’s so true.’
    â€˜The PM literally dragged me back on to the front bench. He nearly pulled my trousers down in his haste!’
    â€˜How embarrassing. Were the cameras rolling?’
    â€˜Absolutely. I take it you missed the evening news?’
    â€˜Yes. Sebastian sneaked in to frighten Barnstaple and Bertie caught him red-handed. It took a while to calm things down.’
    â€˜Pity. It was the main headline. I hate being so high-profile. Anyway, Viv called the serjeant-at-arms, which created no end of fuss and a fair amount of shoving and gesticulating in the lobbies.’
    â€˜Not gesticulating in the lobbies!’
    â€˜I’m afraid so. He seems to think I should prosecute the Prime Minister for assault with a deadly weapon.’
    â€˜The pen is indeed mightier than the sword.’
    â€˜But not as pleasant as the whip, and losing my trousers would have been particularly humiliating since I was wearing a nice pair of leather briefs.’
    â€˜You do enjoy yourself at work, don’t you?’
    â€˜In addition, the stripes from my last visit were still proudly flying their banner.’
    â€˜Yes, I recall I was rather keen with the crop.’
    â€˜I’ve no complaints, Mistress.’
    â€˜I should hope not!’ Celeste protested with mock severity. ‘Did the official Parliamentary nurse get your trousers off?’
    â€˜She did, but fortunately I managed to change out of my leathers and into something more conventional before reaching the medical room.’
    â€˜That was lucky.’
    â€˜Hello,’ Bertie said cheerfully, emerging from his snooze and hopping down onto the sofa arm. ‘I’m a plumber.’
    â€˜Is he on twenty-four hour call-out?’ asked James, accustomed to such genial interruptions.
    â€˜This is BBC One,’ the macaw announced gravely in received English. ‘And now the news.’
    â€˜Bertie,