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'And there I was hoping you would want to sleep your way to the top...' he said mournfully.
The Prime Minister read all the newspapers that morning. He smiled ruefully as he read the commentaries which a week before had been excoriating him and for the most part were now, in their fickle and inconstant fashion, lauding him for his statesmanlike and responsible action in allowing the Government to make a fresh start - 'although he must still resolve many outstanding personal and family issues to the public's satisfaction', thundered The Times. As always, the press had no shame in playing both sides.
He read the Telegraph particularly carefully, and twice. Their prompt polling of Government MPs had given them a lead over the other journals, many of which were forced to refer to the poll findings in their later editions. The consensus seemed to be emerging: it was an open race but Samuel was clearly the front runner.
He summoned his political secretary.
'Grahame. I want you to send an instruction to Lord Williams, with a copy to Sir Humphrey Newlands. Party headquarters are to issue a press release at 12.30 this afternoon for the lunchtime news that nominations for election as Leader of the Party will close in three weeks' time, on Thursday November 18, with the first ballot to take place on the following Tuesday November 23. If a second ballot is required it will be held as prescribed by the Party's rules on the following Tuesday, November 30, with any final run-off ballot two days later. Have you got that?'
He noticed his secretary's obvious anguish. It was the first time since his resignation announcement that they had been able to talk.
That means in exactly six weeks and one day, Grahame, you and I will be out of a job. Don't worry. You've been an excellent aide to me. I haven't always found time as I should to thank you properly in the past, but I want you to know I'm very grateful.'
The aide shuffled with embarrassment.
'You must start thinking about your own future. I'm certain that there are several newly knighted gentlemen in the City or any other part of industry who would be happy to make you a generous offer. Think about it for a few days and let me know what interests you. I still have a few favours to cash in.'
The secretary mumbled his thanks, looking much relieved, and made to depart
'By the way, Grahame. It's possible that the Party Chairman might seek to get hold of me and encourage me to shorten the period of the election process. I shall not be available, and you are to ensure he realises that these are instructions, not terms for negotiation, and they are to be issued without fail by 12.30.'
There was a short pause.
'Otherwise, tell him, I shall be forced to leak them myself.'
It is often written that time and tide wait for no man. They certainly did not wait that day for Michael Samuel. He had been as openly astounded and as privately elated by Collingridge's bombshell as the rest of his colleagues. His natural enthusiasm had quickly turned to the positive aspect of events, and the opportunities which they afforded him. He recognised that no one started the race as favourite, and that he had as good a chance as any, if he played his cards right.
He had consulted the redoubtable Lord Williams, who agreed on his assessment of his chances. 'Patience, Michael,' he had advised. 'You will almost certainly be the youngest candidate, and they will try to say you are too youthful, too inexperienced and too ambitious. So don't look too much as if you want the job. Show a little restraint, and let them come to you.'
Which was to prove excellent advice, but entirely irrelevant to the circumstances. The media had been having a busy day. No sooner had the Telegraph hit the streets promoting Samuel's name than Urquhart appeared in front of television cameras to confirm that he had no intention of standing, because he felt it was in the Party's best interests that the Chief Whip should be entirely impartial in this contest. These two events had the instant effect of getting the media hunt firmly under way for those candidates who would be standing, and promoting a wide degree of praise for Urquhart's unselfishness and loyalty. The release later that morning of the detailed timetable for nomination and election only added fuel to the flames. None of which helped the front runner.
By the time the television cameras had tracked him down to the Intercontinental Hotel off Hyde Park, which he was just about to enter for an early lunch meeting, they were in no mood to accept conditional answers. He couldn't say no, they wouldn't accept maybe, and after some considerable harassment he was forced into making a reluctant announcement that he would indeed be running.
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