Open Writing

Here in the garden of No 10 on this quiet summer's evening I am thinking about a matter which could do me a great deal of harm as Britain's first black prime minister, after an easy first six months during which even the tabloids have been kind to me.

The problem stems from something that arose this morning when I was taking part in a prerecorded interview for the BBC's Teen Show which will be on air shortly.
All was going well until the cockney girl asking the questions threw this one at me: 'Whenever England play West Indies, which side do you support?'

Now, hours later, I still cannot believe that I was so witless as to reply, even jokingly: 'The side with the most black players in it, of course.'

Well, need I say that all hell will erupt when that gem hits the screens? So, what is to be done? I suppose I'd better let my press secretary do a briefing to the effect that my remark was 'just one of those little jokes with which the PM keeps us all in stitches inside No 10.'

But I'm afraid she's just as likely to yell at the assembled journalists: 'The prime minister can't understand what all the blasted fuss is about.'

Anyway, she is coming towards me now, no doubt swearing to herself like a fishwife - not that I heard many fishwives swearing in Surrey, where I grew up. Yes, ironic, isn't it? The Tories had the first woman prime minister and now they have the first black prime minister, but the first might be the last unless ...

Angelica stands in front of me, a strapping blonde ex-Roedean girl who fears neither man nor hack. 'Now look here, Angelica,' I say, 'this is the line that - '

'Oh, stop faffing about, prime minister,' she cuts in. 'I'll sort the buggers out for you, as usual... Why d'you think you've had such a good press so far, uh?'