The Margaret Thatcher Memorial.
Is there really no way of preventing it?
It would seem not.
It's all being paid for out of a foundation.
The site was earmarked 15 years ago.
For a time, there seemed some possibility
of putting it up in Grantham
where no one would have to look at it.
Except the unfortunate inhabitants.
Where is Grantham, anyway?
No one seems quite sure.
Couldn't the Arts Council do something?
You forget. We abolished it a year ago.
Yes. Department of National Heritage.
Not their pigeon, apparently.
The best we can hope for is to keep the scale of that thing down
and plan a larger memorial of oneself to stand nearby.
How is she to be represented?
- As the saviour of the Falklands. - A small war in a godforsaken place!
A small war, but very serendipitous.
- Lucky for some, but not for others? - Well, isn't that the way with wars?
A small war in Cyprus over 40 years ago,
and now the Cyprus settlement will inscribe my name in history.
And the Cyprus oilfields will provide my personal pension
if all our enterprises prosper.
The Urquhart Trust, a very comfortable retirement plan for when the day comes.
Not yet, of course. Lots more fun to be had before that.
Statement from the Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster.
Madam Speaker, it gives me the greatest pleasure to announce
that with the cooperation of the Ministry of Defence
I am raising the embargo
on a large number of War Office documents.
These documents date from the early '50s to 1956
and contain a lot of interesting material
about events in Cyprus, Egypt
and the Middle East generally.
Freedom of information is a hallmark of good, democratic government
and I'd just like to say I'm very happy to be able to add to its store today.
Mr Joe Badger.
If he's so keen on freedom of information,
will he tell us how he got his knees brown
and who paid for his last little trip to the Philippines?
As I'm sure the Honourable Member knows, my essential fact-finding trip...
My essential fact-finding trip was funded jointly by my department
and the Filipino government
in the interests of ethnically sensitive tourism.
Is that what they call it?
Fun without exploitation,
models of imaginative cooperation between the First and Third World
of economic and cultural benefit to all.
Surely the Honourable Member doesn't begrudge me a tan!
And in the strict interests of open government
and freedom of information,
I'm prepared to inform the Honourable Member
that I got a good deal more than my knees brown.
I bet you did!
And furthermore, furthermore...
if he plays his cards right, he might be allowed
to come along with me next time.
Order!
You might regret that.
Not from what I've heard!
Order! Order!
Mr Urquhart?
Hello. Do we know each other?
I believe you met my father once in Cyprus, 1956.
I wrote to you about the war graves. You said you'd help.
- Then I shall. What's your name? - Passolides. Maria Passolides.
How do you do, Miss Passolides?
- Phone my secretary for an appointment. - Thank you.
Well, goodbye for the present.
It was him. We prove it now, prove it for certain.
Dad, it was over 40 years ago. How can you be so sure?
I saw it happen.
I was there, but I couldn't stop it.
I saw him.
Those eyes. Pale, pale eyes.
But if you only saw him once...
That was enough. It was the same man.
I should have looked after my brothers.
You did your best, Dad.
They were my little brothers.
Nobody in the village said nothing to me.
But you could see what everyone was thinking.
"He should have looked after his brothers."
How could I stay after that?
Are you quite sure you want to find out?
Yes.
But when I know for certain it was that man,
what can I do to punish him?
Oh!
Yes?
Mr Booza Pitt would like to talk to you.
Yes, all right.
Come in, Geoffrey.
FU?
- All right? - Perfectly, thank you.
That was a rather louche performance you gave us this afternoon.
Yeah, it was a bit end of the pier, but the chaps liked it.
I've had a bit of a shock since then. Rather an unpleasant phone call.
- Newspapers? - Not yet.
Francis, I'm awfully sorry,
but I've got myself into a spot of bother.
- Sex or money? - Bit of both, I'm afraid.
Let's have it, then.
My local party chairman is divorcing his wife for adultery, citing me.
That's rather small beer for you.
You might have a slight reselection problem.
He says he's going to resign from the party
and take his story to the tabloids.
There are details, nothing too dreadful. It's a bit embarrassing, though.
Oh, erm...
Uniforms and so on. Doctors and nurses. Awfully harmless.
But there are photographs.
- Geoffrey, Geoffrey... - You know me.
Anything else?
Er, well...
He says he's going to say that I tipped off his wife
about some shares.
Brindox Chemicals.
- Ahead of the takeover? - Yeah, obviously.
Otherwise there wouldn't be much point in buying them. He should be grateful!
Francis?
I want you to write me a letter of resignation
and I want it on my desk within the hour!
Right.
I thought you might possibly...
Right.
Please, Francis, couldn't you just...
No, of course, you're right. I see that.
Please, Francis, I couldn't bear it, out there in the cold.
Sign the letter, but don't date it. What's this wretched man's name?
Tennent. Richard Porterhouse Tennent.
- Francis, I need hardly say... - Sit down and shut up!
Get me a Richard Tennent, local chairman, Hampshire Southeast.
Francis?
- You really are utterly contemptible. - I wouldn't go that far.
No background, no bottom,
absolutely no informing principle but the will to survive.
Just a plump little bag of squirming appetites.
- Francis, that's a bit harsh. - Shut up!
You thought you could endanger my government with impunity
just because I may find your company amusing
and smile at your little jokes?
I've been an utter fool. I am an utter fool.
But, Francis, I've always been for you.
You've been my guiding light, my hero, right from way back.
Look into your heart, Francis. You know, I'd do anything for you.
Yes?
- Mr Tennent, sir. - Good. Put him on.
Mr Tennent, Francis Urquhart.
Sorry to spring this on you, but I wanted a confidential word.
You know you've been put up for an honour for public
and political services?
No? Well, I think you deserve something a little better.
A knighthood, in fact.
Yes.
Well, special people don't always realise
how special they are.
There's a waiting list of about 18 months
and all this must remain confidential.
You do understand that?
Good, but I shall be inviting you and...Lady Tennent to dinner very soon.
Yes. Now, one last thing.
I'm sorry to have to ask you this,
but as this will be carrying my personal recommendation,
the Scrutiny Committee isn't likely to come across anything embarrassing?
Sadly, we've had one or two cases where honours have had to be withdrawn.
Excellent.
Goodbye, then, and my best regards to Lady Tennent.
We'll see you both very soon.
Bye-bye.
Francis, what can I say?
I still want that letter, Geoffrey.
I decide who comes and goes from my cabinet and when.
Not the tabloids
and not some dreary little constituency chairman.
All right, Geoffrey, off you go.
- Thank you, Francis. With all my heart. - Yes, yes.
Oh, and, Geoffrey,
that was your knighthood I bought him off with.
Oh, hello, Claire.
- You're looking gorgeous, as ever. - Thank you, Geoffrey.
- How is he today? - In cracking form. Never better.
Having a whale of a time.
Yes?
Claire!
- Do sit down. - Thank you.
Well?
Is Geoffrey Booza Pitt OK?
He usually looks like the cat that got the cream.
I think he just lost one of his nine lives.
Why do you want to be my Parliamentary Private Secretary?
I think I could do the job well.
I think I have the sort of cleverness you need.
What sort of cleverness is that?
The Prime Minister's PPS needs to be very well informed,
but a lot of it comes down to instinct, being clever about people,
screening out the self-seekers, lots more.
You realise that my PPS is a spare set of brains for me?
You wouldn't be able to be seen to have any political views of your own
and all your talents would be at my disposal.
That's one of the attractions.
I'm not driven by burning visions of a holy city.
I just love politics, you know.
I can't get enough of it.
Good.
Could I ask you something?
Why did you appoint Barry Crumb to this job
and why did you keep him on in it so long
when clearly he wasn't up to it?
As you're so clever about people, perhaps you'd like to suggest an answer.
My guess is that you're extremely wary about trusting people.
You prefer to appoint a fool to the job rather than risk appointing a knave.
Very good.
Very near the mark.
So, erm...
What should I do this time?
You know what I'm going to say.
Appoint someone both clever and trustworthy.
And trust her.
Could I trust you, Claire?
Yes, you could.
I'd like to take a little more time to think about this. One last thing...
Is there anything I should know about you
that might affect my decision?
Anything in your past life, anything in your personal life?
The kind of thing that if I found out about it later,
I might think I wish I'd known about that
when I appointed her.
I've been having an affair with Tom Makepeace.
Really?
Thank you for sharing that with me.
I felt in all fairness you should know. You deserve absolute honesty from me.
I said you could trust me and you can.
Being clever about people, you took the gamble that I knew already.
If I knew already and you lied about it, you'd be utterly sunk.
Coming clean would limit the damage at worst.
But what if I didn't know?
What if this were the first time I'd heard of it
and you've just blurted it out unnecessarily?
Well, that was the gamble, that was the risk you had to take.
At worst, I'd think this woman is a bit too open with herself,
a bit too honest to get on in politics.
But she's awfully sweet.
I don't want anyone to think of me as sweet.
- Or devious. - Don't you?
- Did you know I was having an affair? - Of course!
I should imagine half Westminster knows.
It's the common gossip of the House.
And you think I should engage you as my PPS
and make you privy to all my thinking and decisions
while you're conducting a liaison with the man who wants to chop me down?
You're clearly considering it seriously.
You're far too busy to get me up here simply to embarrass and humiliate me.
That's very good, Claire.
You're thinking of gambling too, that I might betray him to you.
And would you?
There's surprisingly little to betray.
He doesn't want to chop you down. He admires you very much.
Does he? That's awfully good of him.
He wishes you valued him more. He feels misunderstood.
Good God!
He's soft in the middle. He's weak and sentimental. He's a loser.
If it came to a fight, you could take him any time.
You could take any of them.
That's why I want to be with you.
But can I really trust her?
Why, with so much at stake,
should I feel this urge to put myself at risk?
Why don't I just ditch the pair of them now?
Unprofessional conduct, palpable security risk,
selfish pursuit of private pleasure at the expense of the public good
and the whole smug, hypocritical,
"Times" editorial slop bucket of morality.
Nothing simpler, nothing safer.
Two at a stroke. Finish.
Right...
Yes?
Claire Carlsen, Francis Urquhart.
I thought you'd like to know the job is yours.
That's absolutely confidential.
Don't tell anyone else for the time being.
No, of course not.
Thank you.
It's...
Forgive me, it's...rather a shock. I convinced myself I'd blown it.
Yes, I rather surprised myself. Goodnight.
Yes!
Sometimes the safe thing is just too safe and sensible.
Some games are just too interesting to resist.
You haven't picked the best year for record-keeping in Cyprus.
October 1956 was Suez and Cyprus turned into one big transit camp,
whole regiments coming through.
The last thing anyone worried about was paperwork.
You might be lucky, though.
- There. Troodos Mountains. - Are you sure?
- I was there. - We'd like to see this one.
7438. "Report on security situation and EOKA resistance interception
"in the Troodos Mountains, April to October 1956."
OK. The search may take at least an hour.
It's never been digitally referenced.
That's all right. We'll wait.
Go and have a coffee. I'll give you a bleep when we find it.
- Thank you very much. - All mod cons. Coffee shop's that way.
The coffee's a bit crap,
but they do lemon tea. That's quite good.
I thought I'd mention it. Cyprus and so on.
- Thanks. - You're very welcome.
- How long have you got? - Ten minutes. You didn't have to cook.
I love to cook. I love to cook for you.
This is about the only chance I get.
I wish we had time for a bloody great blowout!
There you go.
- What about you? - I'm fine. Go on, eat.
Look...
This is a bit awkward.
I think we ought to let this cool off for a while.
- What do you mean? - People know about us.
- Besides Hilary? - So I understand.
From whom?
- Geoffrey Booza Pitt hinted at it. - How does he know?
Does it matter? If he knows, everybody knows.
Hell!
If he's telling people about us,
it's best it isn't true, for the time being.
Or come out in the open. Let them do the worst they can.
You know I'd never leave Bjorn. I told you right from the start.
And you'd never leave Hilary.
I don't know. Might be the best thing for her,
as well as me.
- There's something else. - What?
It's absolutely confidential. I haven't told Bjorn.
What is it?
Francis Urquhart has asked me to be his PPS.
- And you've accepted? - Yes, of course.
Don't look at me like that, Tom.
I'm ambitious. It's the fast lane to promotion.
Is that all it is for you? I thought you wanted
to change things for the better.
I do. I just need to get myself a foothold.
It isn't easy for a woman, Tom.
This is the chance to make myself a power base
and when I've got it, I'll use it for good.
- You said you loved me. - I do.
And you couldn't imagine life without me. Cool off?
Tom, you're the best.
The very best for me.
You give pure gold.
It's just that it's a bit...
..a bit bloody awkward at the moment, Tom.
That's all.
"From the information received, I arranged to meet my contact
"at the red rocks above Spilia village. I was attacked by rifle fire..."
- Bloody liar! - "There were two, possibly three men.
"I took cover, returned fire"
"and managed to shoot both the terrorists dead."
He murdered them in cold blood! My brothers.
"I was unable to identify the gunmen.
"They had nothing to enable me to make the identification.
"I had to consider the risks of reprisal,"
"so I buried the bodies at map reference..."
And there's no signature.
It was him.
- This is a photocopy? - Yes.
- So there'll be an original? - Probably at the Ministry of Defence.
They won't release it till well after everyone's dead
to protect the identity of British personnel still living.
They're keen not to upset people.
Yeah, I bet they are!
Update on the Cyprus talks, Tom.
Prime Minister, I thought you'd taken it off my hands.
No, you do the hard work and I take the credit.
I think we all know that.
It's an arrangement that works very well.
Well, I keep in constant touch with both sides and I remain optimistic.
Dimitri Nicolaou and Yassa Yunis
are exceptionally enlightened politicians,
both prepared to bury decades of bitter strife.
It's been almost 25 years since the Turkish invasion
and a Greek Cypriot can see a Turk living in what he regards as his house.
Nicolaou has to deal very tactfully
with a lot of very fierce nationalist opposition.
A lot depends on the final details of the border demarcation.
If that's seen by all sides as fair and equitable...
A British judge will make damn sure it is.
I trust and pray that he will.
This Cyprus settlement is very close to my heart.
In more ways than one.
Which reminds me
it's timeto do a little priming of the pension plan.
There he is over there.
Oh, yes, I remember now. Rather a nice man.
Rather a useful man, I hope. Be careful.
He's very sharp on the nuances and utterly incorruptible.
You go and chat to your new protégée. I can handle this.
Good hunting.
Hello.
I'm Elizabeth Urquhart.
We did meet briefly at a do at Mansion House,
but you probably won't remember me.
Of course I do. Clive Watling.
Oh, yes! It was on the tip of my tongue.
Now, you're the er...
Don't tell me, it's coming.
You're the judge, the international judge.
The most distinguished international judge in Europe,
my husband tells me.
Should I be frightened of you? Not unless I've done something wrong!
Exactly.
So...what's it like?
Are you actually doing any of it at the moment?
Judging, I mean.
I'm so frightfully ignorant about the law.
I sort of picture you sitting in judgment
over some frightful international criminal
like that chap in "Batman",
but I suppose it's rather more cerebral than that.
It can be like that,
but more typically one arbitrates in some international negotiation.
Just now it's Cyprus, finalising the sea boundaries,
fishing rights and so on.
Cyprus! That must be a tricky one.
Not especially. The area of difference is clear and not very large.
There's a certain amount of ritual posturing to endure.
The French are often prone to that and this case is no exception.
And all that oil must complicate things too.
What oil? There isn't any oil. Not in significant amounts.
We have the most recent seismic surveys. Oil's not part of the picture.
But didn't the French have another survey done,
all very hush-hush?
I'm sure I heard something about it. Perhaps I wasn't supposed to.
Apparently there's oodles of the stuff.
If it goes to the Greek side,
the French will have the exploitation rights.
Something like that.
But wouldn't that make things very difficult for a French judge?
You know, to remain impartial and so on?
Yes, it would. It should.
Oh, I do hope I haven't complicated things.
I was sure you would know all about it.
I've rather put my foot in it.
No, not at all.
I have to deal with the facts as they're presented to me as evidence.
And I shall. One or two things have just become clear.
Oh, I really am awful.
Still a blurter after all these years!
- Please say you'll forgive me. - Yes, of course.
You weren't to know.
I'd like to talk to you about Tom Makepeace, Claire.
Yes, I thought you would.
It's all right. Of course I'll stop seeing him.
I was ready to end it in any case.
Tom doesn't handle these things well
and if half Westminster knows about it...
I exaggerated.
If I said that I would prefer it
if you didn't cut off from him completely,
would that make life impossibly difficult for you?
Not impossibly difficult, no.
I haven't gone off him or anything. Not in the physical sense.
Quite the reverse, in fact.
We're extraordinarily well attuned in that respect.
You want me to spy on him?
I want to know what he really wants.
No one could be as selfless as he purports to be.
- What does he say to you? - We don't talk about politics much.
- That's not what we're about. - Claire, what does he say about me?
The whole truth, now!
He doesn't like you, but that won't surprise you.
He admires your ability, but thinks you've used it to wrong ends.
He thinks your policy on Europe could lead to England's isolation.
He thinks you're past it, in decline.
Too old to cut the mustard.
Only one question remains.
Is he going to challenge for the leadership and if so, when?
- I don't know. - Find out!
Oh, you know...
I really thought I'd lost you.
I couldn't...
I couldn't bear the thought of not doing this,
not giving you all...
It feels so good.
So this is cooling off?
Being sensible, is it?
Don't mock me!
I can't help it if I'm hooked on you.
Oh, God!
You're so lovely.
I'm so lucky.
We are.
Oh, we are lucky!
Does he know about us?
I really don't think I care.
I'm sure he doesn't have much interest.
He's so cold-blooded, he's like an old lizard on a rock,
those pale eyes flickering!
I think he's quite scared of you, Tom.
He's never shown me much sign of it.
You're far less dangerous to him inside the cabinet than outside.
He'd love to sack you, but he's scared that if he did...
I'd go for the party leadership?
Everyone knows you could win the next election.
You're far more popular now than he is.
You know what?
Foreign Secretary.
That's all I ever wanted.
But if he continues to interfere,
if he undoes all those patient achievements,
if he stops me doing my job,
then I'll bloody well have his!
Yes!
And you might communicate that to him
in that...tactful way
you PPSs...cultivate.
I'll try.
Oh, Tom!
I'm so glad you said that.
I think you should challenge, and the sooner the better for all of us.
I really thought you'd gone over to his side.
How could I do that?
You're in my heart, Tom.
You're in my bones.
- Mrs Carlsen, have you a moment? - Later.
He'll take any shit you hand out so long as he can keep his job.
What if I take his job away from him?
He might feel he had to fight you then.
What should I do, Claire?
Don't ask me that about Tom. Not after all we've had together.
What would you do in my place?
Get rid of him.
Elizabeth?
Oh! Thank you.
Forgive me, Francis...
Is what you're considering wise?
I haven't made up my mind yet.
Francis, you might do something on a whim or in a flash of temper.
- All the more fun. - Think, Francis. Remember Stamper.
You underestimated him,
his capacity for malice, resentment, revenge.
You thought he was your creature, but he turned against you.
Ultimately Stamper underestimated me, but this case is entirely different.
Makepeace was never my creature.
He's a disruptive influence, totally isolated in the cabinet.
Not in the parliamentary party or in the country.
If you humiliate him in the reshuffle, he'll turn against you.
Leave him where he is and he has to make supportive noises.
In public at any rate.
Wait until he does something
to make himself less popular, then be rid of him.
That would be sensible.
One wonders if your new girl is giving you the best advice.
She's not just telling you what you want to hear, I hope?
One doesn't detect the tiniest trace of jealousy, does one?
Hardly, Francis.
A little pique perhaps because I didn't choose her for you.
But overwhelmingly concerned for your welfare, your security.
These final years should be a triumphant consolidation, not a desperate struggle.
You're not suggesting that a contest between Makepeace and myself
would be a desperate struggle?
I can take the man any time I like.
Of course you could.
What thrillingly pugnacious language!
But why put yourself to all that trouble?
After all, it's not as if you had anything to prove.
I think I'll go up, Francis.
Well, I won't be very long.
Of course she's right.
I have nothing to prove and I have nothing to fear.
No one can threaten me now. No one is left who can threaten me now.
Mattie gone, Stamper and Sarah gone,
Roger O'Neill, with his brave, terrified smile, gone.
All gone.
No one knows anything that could possibly damage me,
except Corder and Elizabeth.
And myself.
So what do I have to fear...
..but fear itself?
You're very privileged. I don't know anyone else who's invited up here.
- I'm still waiting for my invitation. - It's his own private roof garden?
Not quite. In theory, any MP can use it,
but the Prime Minister comes up here when he needs to be alone
to think something through, and doesn't welcome any intrusions.
There's a tragic story.
A young journalist he befriended killed herself up here.
Jumped off the roof. He saw it happen, couldn't stop her.
That was before he was Prime Minister.
- He still likes to go there? - He's not like other people.
Your connection with him is Cyprus?
I'm trying to help my father find out about his brothers
who were killed there in '56.
He'll help you. He's very interested in Cyprus.
Prime Minister! Here's Miss Passolides.
- Thank you, Claire. - Thank you.
Miss Passolides! I hope you didn't mind all those stairs.
No, not at all.
What an extraordinary place this is!
One likes to get away now and then, get above it all.
I like to imagine that the air is a little purer up here.
I was born in the Highlands of Scotland.
One could stand on the rocks,
see ten miles and not another living soul!
Sometimes I think I was a complete fool to come into politics,
but, well, here we are.
I'm very grateful for this. Very surprised too.
I'm not one of your supporters.
I guessed something of the kind and it's completely immaterial.
It's my privilege and my pleasure to serve you,
whether you voted for me or not.
Whatever else you may have done or not done,
the Cyprus settlement was a wonderful achievement.
Thank you. It's very close to my heart.
I love Cyprus, the island, the people.
I didn't always meet them in the happiest of circumstances.
Some of my memories of that place are rather painful to recall now.
Did you go there on national service?
No, I took a short service commission - three years instead of two.
I was only 19 when I first went out there.
Very naive, idealistic, passionate about Greek culture and language.
- You speak Greek? - It's a bit rusty now.
- That's very good. - One or two bits stick in the mind.
Did you gather information on EOKA resistance
or did you capture them?
No, nothing so dramatic, I assure you, Maria.
Someone who spoke Greek would have been useful in interrogation.
No, I was lucky enough to miss all that kind of thing.
Our problem... I don't know if you can help...
We're trying to locate my uncles' graves.
They were killed in a skirmish in the Troodos Mountains above Spilia.
- I see. - We went to the Public Records Office.
We found a copy of the official report on the incident,
but the name of the officer in charge was blanked out.
Yes, I see.
The clerk said it's likely there is a more detailed account,
perhaps on a secret file at the Ministry of Defence.
We don't want to stir up trouble.
I just want to set my father's mind at rest.
I understand.
So much unfinished business from that time.
And later in 1974 when the Turks invaded.
- That's when I lost my mother. - So much blood.
So much sorrow.
- Will you let me see what I can do? - Yes. You're very kind.
It's the least I can do. I wish it could be more.
Yes, I believe you. Thank you.
I've just had a telephone call from Mr Nures.
The judges have decided on the sea boundaries. They split 50/50.
And Sir Clive has given his casting vote to the Turkish side.
Excellent. Thanks in no small measure to you.
- To the future. - To the Urquhart Trust.
- To our personal pension plan. - Happy days.
Sorry. Frightfully sorry, Prime Minister.
Was that a political point, Polecutt?
Good God, no. A spasm of cramp, Prime Minister. Sorry.
Spasm of cramp.
Order! Questions to the Prime Minister.
Mr Hugh Pugh.
Does the Prime Minister have any thoughts to share with us
on the eve of another crucial European summit,
particularly about when he'll do something practical
to make Europe work efficiently?
For example, if he believes in a single market as he says he does,
why does he turn his back on a single currency?
When is he going to put his money where his mouth is?
The Honourable Gentleman makes an excellent point
and I agree with him.
We all want an effective single market in Europe.
I'm not sure that destroying the image
of our young king on the coin of the realm,
with all the disrespect to the monarchy
that implies, will bring Utopia any closer,
but the Honourable Gentleman believes it and who am I to argue him
into common sense and sanity?
Let me say this to him, however.
It is my conviction that we can do most good for Europe
by being resolutely British,
by showing Europe the way to go, rather than trotting at Europe's heels.
Europe has a great deal more to learn from the cradle of democracy
than it has to teach us,
and if the Honourable Gentleman doesn't believe that,
perhaps he should be rustling sheep in the border country
like his ancestors.
Order! Order! Order!
Prime Minister.
If we want to build a really efficient single market,
here is a proposal I intend to suggest to my fellow leaders at the summit.
A single language for Europe.
The waste of money in dealing in a multitude of languages
must run into billions, measured in whatever currency you will,
waste, confusion, misunderstanding.
Clearly we need to be able to speak with one voice.
I suppose it's just one of those accidents of history
that the only possible language is English.
Order! Order!
- How was I? - I've never seen anything like it.
You were completely bloody impossible!
Thank you. It pays to be completely impossible from time to time.
Put a bit of stick about, show them what's what, just for badness!
- So you don't want a single language? - It wouldn't be a bad idea.
But it was just a bit of mischief.
It'll hold up that single currency nonsense for a while
and be worth a few per cent in the polls and it'll make some people angry.
Not bad for five minutes' work!
All right, let's be serious.
I'd like to run a few thoughts past you on the reshuffle.
Who wins, who loses,
how we stick it to them, placing the leaks.
Liaise with Geoffrey.
Hello, Tom. How's tricks?
Francis, I'd like a few words in private.
That won't be necessary, Tom.
My PPS is very discreet, as I'm sure you know.
- Look, I think it would be better if... - Stay where you are, Claire.
You have a job to do.
Sorry about that, Tom. What was it you wanted exactly?
What the hell were you playing at?
For the sake of a few cheap cracks,
you put everything we've done in jeopardy!
What will our European partners think of that performance?
You make it impossible for me to do my job.
I build up relationships of trust over years patiently
with serious professionals,
international statesmen, and you throw it away! What for?
To get on the front page of the "Sun"?
Don't take it so seriously.
And it's not all Queensberry Rules in Europe.
Occasionally, one needs a bit of pepper on the gloves.
That's not good enough.
You can't screw around with foreign policy
without consulting me!
It seems I can, but in future the problem won't arise.
I have come to a momentous decision
and I'm glad you're the first to hear the news.
- You're resigning? - No, Tom, you are.
As Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs.
I want to keep your talent in the government,
but you're a bit too influenced by your continental chums
with their baccalaureates and their Mercedes.
I thought you might like to take a stab at Education.
Some might see that as a step down, but it's right up your street.
You could have long chats with teachers about the meaning of life
and Plato's "Republic" and all that.
I should imagine you would enjoy that, Tom.
You bastard!
Education doesn't appeal, then?
- Did you think I'd accept? - No, but it was worth a try.
- It's that or nothing. - I choose nothing.
Up to you.
Tom...
You will put it in writing, won't you?
- You'll regret this, Francis. - Well, now, I wonder if I shall.
- Sorry. - No good in knocking the press about.
It wasn't our fault this time. What did you think of his performance?
Unnecessary?
Don't fancy a comment, do you, on or off the record?
Yes, I thought it was outrageous. The last straw, in fact.
I've just given him my resignation.
Good one, Tom. One day, eh?
- You're not serious? - Dicky, get your chaps together.
Meet me in the lobby room in 15 minutes. I'll be making a statement.
- Right. - Tell them it'll be well worth it.
Right!
Thank you all for coming along at such short notice.
This afternoon I resigned as Foreign and Commonwealth Secretary
and the Prime Minister accepted my resignation.
I shall make a full statement to the House next week,
but the reason for my resignation
is that "areas of disagreement on policy,
"in particular in Europe,
have made it very difficult for this government
"to maintain a consistent position vis-à-vis our neighbours
"and have made it impossible for me to do my job as Foreign Secretary,
"a job I've always aspired to and which I relinquish with bitter regret."
That's all.
And you're not moving to another government post?
- That's right, I'm not. - Were you offered another post?
- Yes. - Which one?
- No comment. - You sound bitter and angry, Tom.
Would that be fair comment? Are you angry?
Yes, I'm extremely...
bitterly disappointed.
OK, I'm angry that I've been forced to resign
from a job I've loved doing.
- So what are your plans now? - Go home and relax.
Enjoy my first weekend in ten years with no red boxesI
But in the longer term, well, I shall make a full statement next week.
Tom, it's known that your major areas of disagreement
are with the Prime Minister.
You said some of his speeches have been irresponsible
and embarrassing to our European neighbours.
Would you say it's time for Francis Urquhart to step down now?
That's really not for me to say.
Come on, Tom. Should he go?
Well, in his own words, you might very well think that.
- I could not possibly comment. - You bastard!
Thomas Makepeace commenting on his shock resignation today
from the post of Foreign Secretary.
Bastard! He'll be dangling in the wind before I've done with him!
- I did warn you. - What can he do? He's not a fighter.
He's soft in the middle. He's a sentimental dreamer.
I can take him any time I like.
Of course you can, my dear. Of course you can.