Just over a week ago Laura Trott received a call from Rishi Sunak. Would she like to join the cabinet as chief secretary to the Treasury? Come the following Tuesday, she might have wished she had thought a little harder before taking up the offer. Instead, she was left to crash and burn on the morning media round. It turns out that Laura Trott is the unthinking person’s Helen Whately. That bad.
Mishal Husain began the BBC Today programme by asking for Trott’s thoughts on Patrick Vallance’s evidence to the Covid inquiry. What did she make of the discrepancy between what the former chief scientific adviser had said about the Eat Out to Kill Someone scheme and Sunak’s own account. That the then chancellor had not bothered to consult any of the scientific team before setting out to find how many old people he could let die before the inevitable next lockdown.
“Nothing,” said Trott. Er … sorry. What do you mean “nothing”? She meant “nothing”. She had only been a backbencher during the pandemic so had made it her business to know as little as possible about everything. She wasn’t going to fall into the trap of being a government minister who turned out to know something.
But surely someone in the Treasury must have briefed her. Nope. She had given all members of staff a day off. But she did know this: if Rishi had deliberately killed thousands of people, then she was sure he must have had a very good reason. These people had died so that the economy might live. Nothing wrong with that.
Husain moved on. Was the government going to do more than just cut business taxes in Wednesday’s autumn statement? “I’m so glad you’ve asked me that,” Trott said, clapping her hands in delight. She shouldn’t really give the game away, but she was too excited not to.
Yes, we are also going to cut personal taxes. That was a measure of how far the government had come in the last year. Look at it this way. Only two months ago, the chancellor had said it was too early for tax cuts. But now the polls were so desperate that the government was prepared to use any old trick to fool the punters.
Try to look at it this way, begged Trott. When inflation was going up due to global pressures, it was completely out of the government’s control. But now it has come down thanks to a fall in energy prices, it is all a result of Rish! and Jezza’s skilful handling of the economy.
So well done them! And well done me! It was all very thrilling. Now that we’ve beaten inflation because inflation was down to two-and-a-half times higher than the target for inflation, it was time to adopt some inflationary measures like cutting personal taxes.
“It sounds like chaos,” observed Husain.
“Vandalism,” Trott corrected.
“Sorry?”
“Vandalism. It’s not chaos. Chaos would imply it was all somehow random. It isn’t. It’s entirely deliberate. We’re actively trying to wreck the country so that we can blame Labour for not fixing it when they win the next election. Gosh, is that the time? I must go. I hope I haven’t said anything that will get me the sack.”
Nothing at all, Laura.
Elsewhere in SW1, Lord Big Dave was continuing to live his best life. In his own mind, he’s not just made a return as foreign secretary. He’s also reinvented himself as the de facto prime minister. The man pulling Rishi’s strings.
Rish! might be allowed out now and again to do the front of house chores – just to keep his spirits up, to give him a vague sense of purpose – but everyone in the Tory party now deferred to Lord Big Dave. He was the one who lifted morale at the 1922 Committee. Gave them the will to carry on for another year. Daddy’s back.
It was Lord Big Dave who had greeted the president of South Korea in Horse Guards Parade. He hadn’t meant to. Sunak had been at his side and had been poised to do the handshakes.
But then Lord Big Dave’s sense of entitlement had just taken over. The Pavlovian response of a man who had never had to try too hard. Just check out the photos. Totally at ease. Never apologise. Never explain. The same motto that had served him well when he had just abandoned the country after fucking up the Brexit referendum.
Later that afternoon, Lord Big Dave was to be found in the Lords chamber to make his maiden speech and to open the debate on the Comprehensive and Progressive Agreement for Trans-Pacific partnership (CPTPP).
He looked totally at home, delighted to be among his equals. Back where he had always belonged at the heart of government. Everyone deserved a second chance to wreck a country a second time. Laughing that he was a big fan of Giorgia Meloni. Not rightwing at all. Yup. We know exactly what you meant. You fancy her.
He wanted Rishi to serve under him. Sorry. To serve under Rishi. Everyone tittered. They all know the score. Who’s really in charge. It had been a surprise to get the call. A surprise that it had taken so long. And he apologised to the people of Chipping Norton for dragging their name through the mud. Not. It was the least they could do for him.
After insincerely schmoozing their lordships for a few minutes, Lord Big Dave moved on to the CPTPP. It was a truly wondrous thing, he lied. He knows it’s hardly worth the paper it’s written on. A near-pointless sop for leaving the EU. Something that would add 0.3% to the UK’s GDP in about 10 years. An accounting error at best.
“But who can overlook the importance of fruit juice from Peru or vacuum cleaners from Malaysia?” he smirked. No one does condescension better. And he would try not to take us out of the CPTPP with the same casualness he had the EU.
Hell, how much damage could he do in 12 months? Don’t tempt him …
Depraved New World by John Crace (Guardian Faber, £16.99). To support the Guardian and Observer, order your copy and save 18% at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
On Monday 11 December 8pm–9.30pm GMT, join John Crace, Marina Hyde and Pippa Crerar for a livestream discussion on another year of anarchy in British politics.
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