until he was composed enough to open his office door.
“How many
people are still waiting to see me, Fred?” he asked.
“After the
Higginbottoms there’s only the mad major, still convinced that Martians are
about to land on the roof of Leeds Town Hall.”
“Why would they
want to come to Leeds first?” asked Raymond, trying to hide his growing anxiety
with false humor.
“Once they’ve
captured Yorkshire, the rest would be easy.”
“Hard to find fault with that argument.
Nevertheless,
tell the major I’m deeply concerned but I need to study his claim in more
detail and to seek further advice from the Ministry of Defense. Make an
appointment for him to see me during my next office hours, and by then I should
have a strategic plan ready.”
Fred Padgett grinned.
“That will give him something to tellhis friends about for at least two weeks.”
Raymond
returned to Mr. and Mrs. Higginbottom and assured them he would have their
housing problem sorted out within a few days. He made a note on his file to
ring the Leeds borough housing officer.
“What an
afternoon,” exclaimed Raymond after the door had closed behind them. “One
wife-beating, one electricity turned off by the Electricity Board with four
children under ten in the house, one pollution of the Aire River, one appalling
housing problem, never forgetting the mad major and his imminent Martians. And now the devaluation news.”
“How can you
remain so calm under the circumstances?” Fred Padgett asked.
“Because I
can’t afford to let anyone know how I really feel.”
After his
office hours Raymond would normally have gone around to the local pub for a
pint and an obligatory chat with the locals, which would give him a chance to
catch up on what had been happening in Leeds during the past few weeks. But on
this occasion he bypassed the pub and returned quickly to his parents’ home.
Joyce told him
the phone had rung so often that she had finally taken it off the hook without
letting his mother know the real reason.
“Very
sensible,” said Raymond.
“What are you
going to do?” she asked.
“I shall
resign, of course.”
“Whi do that,
Raymond? It will only harm your Y career.”
“You may turn
out to be right, but that won’t stop me.
“But you’re
only just beginning to get on top of your work.”
“Joyce, without
trying to sound pompous, I know I have many failings, but I’m not a coward, and
I’m certainly not so self-seeking as totally to desert any principles I might
have.”
“You know,
youjust sounded Re a man who believes he’s destined to become Prime Minister.”
“A moment ago
you said it would harm my chances. Make up your mind.”
“I have,” she
said.
Raymond smiled
wanly before retreating to his study to compose a short handwritten letter,
Saturday, November 18, 1967
Dear Prime Minister,
After your announcement this afternoon on devaluation and the stand I
have continually taken on the issue I am left with no choice but to resign my
position as Under Secretary of State for Employment. I’ would like to thank you
for having given me the opportunity to serve in your administration.
Be assured that I shall continue to support the Government on all other
issues from the backbenches.
Yours,
RAYMOND GOULD
When the red
box arrived at the house that Saturday night, Raymond instructed the messenger
to deliver the letter to Number 10 immediately.
As he opened
the box for the last time he reflected that his department was answering
questions on employment in the House that Monday. He wondered who would be
chosen to take his place.
Because of the red tape surrounding devaluation, the Prime Minister
did not get around to reading Raymond”s letter until late Sunday morning. The Goulds’ phone was still off the hook when an anxious Fred Padgett was heard
knocking on the front door later that day.
“Don’t answer
it,” said Raymond. “It’s bound to be another journalist.”
“No, it’s
“How many
people are still waiting to see me, Fred?” he asked.
“After the
Higginbottoms there’s only the mad major, still convinced that Martians are
about to land on the roof of Leeds Town Hall.”
“Why would they
want to come to Leeds first?” asked Raymond, trying to hide his growing anxiety
with false humor.
“Once they’ve
captured Yorkshire, the rest would be easy.”
“Hard to find fault with that argument.
Nevertheless,
tell the major I’m deeply concerned but I need to study his claim in more
detail and to seek further advice from the Ministry of Defense. Make an
appointment for him to see me during my next office hours, and by then I should
have a strategic plan ready.”
Fred Padgett grinned.
“That will give him something to tellhis friends about for at least two weeks.”
Raymond
returned to Mr. and Mrs. Higginbottom and assured them he would have their
housing problem sorted out within a few days. He made a note on his file to
ring the Leeds borough housing officer.
“What an
afternoon,” exclaimed Raymond after the door had closed behind them. “One
wife-beating, one electricity turned off by the Electricity Board with four
children under ten in the house, one pollution of the Aire River, one appalling
housing problem, never forgetting the mad major and his imminent Martians. And now the devaluation news.”
“How can you
remain so calm under the circumstances?” Fred Padgett asked.
“Because I
can’t afford to let anyone know how I really feel.”
After his
office hours Raymond would normally have gone around to the local pub for a
pint and an obligatory chat with the locals, which would give him a chance to
catch up on what had been happening in Leeds during the past few weeks. But on
this occasion he bypassed the pub and returned quickly to his parents’ home.
Joyce told him
the phone had rung so often that she had finally taken it off the hook without
letting his mother know the real reason.
“Very
sensible,” said Raymond.
“What are you
going to do?” she asked.
“I shall
resign, of course.”
“Whi do that,
Raymond? It will only harm your Y career.”
“You may turn
out to be right, but that won’t stop me.
“But you’re
only just beginning to get on top of your work.”
“Joyce, without
trying to sound pompous, I know I have many failings, but I’m not a coward, and
I’m certainly not so self-seeking as totally to desert any principles I might
have.”
“You know,
youjust sounded Re a man who believes he’s destined to become Prime Minister.”
“A moment ago
you said it would harm my chances. Make up your mind.”
“I have,” she
said.
Raymond smiled
wanly before retreating to his study to compose a short handwritten letter,
Saturday, November 18, 1967
Dear Prime Minister,
After your announcement this afternoon on devaluation and the stand I
have continually taken on the issue I am left with no choice but to resign my
position as Under Secretary of State for Employment. I’ would like to thank you
for having given me the opportunity to serve in your administration.
Be assured that I shall continue to support the Government on all other
issues from the backbenches.
Yours,
RAYMOND GOULD
When the red
box arrived at the house that Saturday night, Raymond instructed the messenger
to deliver the letter to Number 10 immediately.
As he opened
the box for the last time he reflected that his department was answering
questions on employment in the House that Monday. He wondered who would be
chosen to take his place.
Because of the red tape surrounding devaluation, the Prime Minister
did not get around to reading Raymond”s letter until late Sunday morning. The Goulds’ phone was still off the hook when an anxious Fred Padgett was heard
knocking on the front door later that day.
“Don’t answer
it,” said Raymond. “It’s bound to be another journalist.”
“No, it’s
Similar Books
