Original subtitles

A little pause... and we are back.

During this campaign, I have been called many things

by my good friends of the press and the media.

I have been called red scum, stark staring man, a political critic, a Trotskyite

loonie.

Not only on a pressing page.

Have you seen this morning's show?

I'm sorry.

In my excitement this morning, I forgot to read this up.

I forgot to Moscow!

And what's the look of red on your window, Moscow?

There have been suggestions.

Your campaign has been financed from the Andy Anker.

Moscow, my friend.

They'll probably read all my names before I do.

The duties are implying you're not a fit person to be per minister.

Well, I'm prettier than James Callum, I'm more musical

than Edward Heath, and I'm sexier than Margaret Thatcher.

Harry Perkins, third generation steel worker, trade unionist, socialist,

and leader of the Labour Party, left his mother's council flat here in

Sheffield a few minutes ago on a journey that will take him to the polling

stations, his party committee rooms, the declaration of the result,

and, as now seems distinctly possible, the Downing Street.

The total is 853.

And it came to pass that the oil money ran out.

An old mother of it went to the cupboard, and there was nothing left to privatize.

And the merchants and the money lenders in Yuppie land no longer collected two

million pounds for passing go, because most of them were in jail.

And among the patient charms of the poor and the sick and the dispossessed,

there were great rejoicing.

And behold, they looked at the rulers of the land, the aging city slickers from

fifth-rate public schools, and they said, gotcha!

And I don't think London can have witnessed

scenes quite as exuberant as this since VE day.

The mood of celebration really quite apparent

as the results continue to come through.

Ten seconds, studio.

The results now showing Brentwood, Elston, Colton, Allington, Kyle,

all the residents here, London South, Ipswich.

And so, front of Arliss Square, the people,

as you see, are quite literally coming to two.

It's back to the election line, studio.

Well, Mr Andrews, you've held on to your Surrey East constituency.

Congratulations.

But you're out of government now, if not out of parliament.

You misjudged this one a bit.

Well, the people have chosen.

That, of course, is their democratic right.

On to computer updates in 30 seconds.

Question.

How can you call them the loony left now?

Somebody just shifted the middle of the road.

Any advice for the new man?

He's certainly got a new style, and no one can doubt he's got new policies.

Well, as you know, Alan, Mr Perkins isn't a great one for listening to advice.

Sheffield Central's declaring OB6.

I think there are three lessons... Alan, we'll have to cut Andrew short.

On to OB6.

Yesterday's man, Mr Andrews.

As returning officer of a Sheffield Central constituency, I declare that the

votes cast in the general election were as follows.

Harry Clement Perkins, the Labour candidate.

32,000 votes.

And staff of City Hall, and of course the police.

During this campaign, I've been called many

things by my good friends from the press, media.

The Times, our great paper of record, called me a simple-minded fool.

Simple-minded fool.

Well, so be it.

Maybe they're right.

For if it's simple-minded to believe that people, all people, are entitled to food,

to warmth and shelter, to a good education, a free health service,

and a well-paid job, then yes, I am simple-minded.

If it's foolish to want to spend money on milk for children and care for elderly,

rather than on even more sophisticated bonds for military, then I am a fool.

If it is simple-minded and foolish to feel revulsion at the fact that millions of

men, women and children are forced to live in hells so

that a tiny bunch of fat cats can eat their free, then yes.

In fact, I am a simple-minded fool.

And I would like to thank the other millions of simple-minded fools who

indicated by their votes that they feel the same way.

They have given notice.

We have given notice to the outgoing government and to that

whole non-elected army that hold power in this country.

Now it's your turn to go to hell.

Now it's your turn to go to hell.

Now it's your turn to go to hell.

The following last night's dramatic victory, newly elected Prime Minister

Harry Perkins left Sheffield Station early this morning

on his way southwards to London and to Downing Street.

For the money markets preparing to open again after yesterday's dramatic slide in

the value of sterling informed city sources of predicting an even more

unsettled day to day as the financial world reacts sharply to Mr.

Perkins' election and...

Why do you always insist on travelling second class, Mr. Perkins?

I meet a better class of person that way.

You're a perfect example.

Do you intend to abolish first-class rail travellers?

No, no.

We all abolish second-class rail travel.

I think all people are first class, don't you?

A bit more round this way, just a second.

It's a good one.

The Prime Minister, can you hold the bag up?

Mr. Perkins thinks we're all first class.

Sir George Fison, your newspaper chain and cable television network have run an

aggressive campaign against Harry Perkins during this election.

Now that the voters have rejected your advice, you've been proved wrong.

Have you changed your mind?

The man's charm and some useful one-liners, that makes him a comedian,

not a Prime Minister.

I might quote some of your newspapers.

Red scum, a political... You're lifting those phrases out of context.

That's the oldest trick in the world.

Come, Sir George, a term of abuse is a term of abuse, whatever the context.

Well, it can hardly be surprising that the Labour Party

manifesto contains the proposal, one man, one newspaper.

How do you view the prospect of having to dismantle your empire?

I started my working life selling newspapers.

And buying them?

I started selling newspapers.

Maybe I'll end up the same way.

On the other hand, I've been reading Labour Party manifestos since 1945,

and I'm still waiting for the election.

Chambers.

I am a businessman, not a politician.

Oh, God, I think I'm dying of boredom.

Can someone get me a coffee?

Two.

Thanks, darling.

Let's go to Bob for a state of the parties.

Give Alan a 10 seconds.

Well done, everybody.

DG's delighted.

We didn't put a foot wrong all night.

Thank you very much.

You're winding him up.

Five seconds.

I think someone already did.

Coming to three.

Cue Bob and cut.

Looks like we went down well in the prefect's room.

I wish I had time to watch television.

I'm sure this is a good idea.

This is a good idea.

I'm sorry.

Thank you.

It's all right.

The pleasure was all Her Majesty's love.

How was it?

Oh, you know, full of those stockbroker types Harry Perkins put away.

Apparently, you got a much better sell if you were in Bupa.

And there were the murderers, embezzlers, bank robbers.

In fact, it was very much like Fleet Street.

It's all right.

Force a habit.

My criminal mentality.

Have you finalised your cabinet, Prime Minister?

Yes.

Well, I'll keep you on mind for the first three short books.

Who's got one?

Can we have the list?

Please, aren't you breakfast?

Yes.

Two reporters and your newspaper.

Can we expect to see the end of the monarchy?

Ah, no referendum.

I always ask the people first.

This isn't necessary, Sir Frederick.

I mean, we could have taken 77 Bush.

With respect, sir, the King is expecting you.

There will be time for you to change.

Change?

Morning dress is optional on these occasions.

Good.

But I will attend to me, Emmett.

UGE, the giant American multinational, has hinted it

may close down its manufacturing operations in Britain.

A spokesman for the group said this was unconnected

with the result of yesterday's election.

In the city, share prices have again fallen sharply this morning.

The fourth consecutive day... Excuse me?

Excuse me?

Excuse me?

But Harry Perkins lives here.

That's why we're here.

You're breaking into his flight?

We're carrying out orders.

Mr. Perkins' orders?

Yeah, technically speaking.

The Prime Minister's orders.

We've blown up to fill top third.

Can Brad Harry pay the nurses?

Underneath, down two sizes.

Where's the cash gone, comrade?

Big picture of pretty nurse.

I want luck.

I want the word with orders.

Hello, hello.

How are you?

How are you?

Thank you very much.

How are you?

What did you say to the King, Harry?

Well, I told him I'd never lived in our regard.

He says if I behave myself, I can use this at weekends.

And it really does look as if he's decided to abandon the

official car and make his way to Downing Street on foot.

At this rate, he'll be assassinated before he's been in office a week.

I assume the guards wish to destroy this center Sheffield.

Well, this really is an extraordinary break with tradition.

But nothing changes.

Correct me if I'm wrong, David.

Why should anything change?

The sun's running a competition.

You have to predict the exact day and time the money runs out.

What's the prize?

A weekend in Paris with Rupert?

He's walking back.

Who is?

Perkins, he's walking back.

Nothing.

Here he is, yes.

Now that I'm Prime Minister, do you get more money for guarding anybody?

No, sir.

It's a standard rate, but I have more help.

Come here, Inspector.

Where would you say the danger lies?

Back there?

Or across the road?

Or in there?

I have no opinion, sir.

You're a wise man, Inspector.

I have opinions, and look what happens.

How do I get in?

Nobody's given me a key.

Tweed.

I'm sorry?

Horace Tweed, your permanent private secretary.

Ah.

Sir James Robertson, cabinet secretary.

Oh, we've met before.

Not as colleagues.

I look forward to working with you, Prime Minister.

And your staff, sir.

What does everybody do?

Your secretary is from the General Office, telephonists and switchboard operators,

filing clerks, butlers, domestic and cleaning staff.

Well, I'm delighted to meet you all collectively.

And I look forward to getting to know you individually.

I'll be bringing in one or two of my old people,

but there'll be no compulsory redundancies.

And, of course, we're all on the same side.

I must have visited Number 10 on many occasions.

Oh, yes, but I've now been allowed to angle the silver.

In this day and age, the world's ever-changing, the world's ever-changing,

the world's ever-changing, the world's ever-changing, the Cabinet Room, sir.

It's quite impressive.

Yes, it is.

You can almost touch the history.

And there's the odd whiff of betrayal.

We must do something about that.

Your living room, Prime Minister.

And the bedroom is this way?

Those are my books.

There's my miner's lamp.

And the bathroom and dressing room.

And my clothes.

Both suits.

We got the key of your flat from your secretary, Prime Minister.

It's custom and practice.

Plain and pressed.

Custom and practice.

I press that bell, do I get a butler?

Of course.

Good God.

There is one immediate letter for signature, Prime Minister.

To the outgoing Prime Minister placing checkers at his

disposal until he has time to make alternative arrangements.

And there's a flat in Knightsbridge, a farm in the Cotswolds and friends in the city.

I suppose he could do with the help he earned.

The Governor of the Bank of England would like to see you.

I've arranged an appointment at four o 'clock.

I'll run on Stirling.

He gave no details.

It's custom and practice.

And the White House will now be telephoning at 4.45.

The President would like to congratulate you personally on your election.

Should I believe him?

Well, this is a free and democratic office in a free and democratic country.

You're allowed to express your opinion.

You should regard the message from the President as, so to speak, a courtesy call.

And I shall thank him with all due courtesy.

And thank you, Sir James.

Oh, it's all right.

One question will ask you.

If I pick up receiver and press buttons, I make telephone call.

How many of my own intelligence people will be listening in?

None, Prime Minister.

I can assure you of that.

Independent radio news at 1pm.

The headlines.

After his triumphant journey from Sheffield and arrival at Downing Street,

it's down to serious business this morning for incoming Prime Minister Harry Perkins

as he faces the first major tests for his new government.

The dramatically worsening financial situation.

Yeah, that's better.

I can actually hear you now.

I'm seeing you tonight.

Yes, yes, yes.

We're invited to a party.

What time?

Where?

Uh, what time?

Eight o'clock.

Who's on the phone?

Um, do I bring a bottle?

Prime Minister?

Yeah?

Are you serious?

Mr. Prime Minister, may I offer my personal congratulations on your election

success and the good wishes of the American people for a constructive term of office?

Oh, thank you, Mr. President.

That's very decent of you.

I know that you're a skilled and experienced politician, Harry.

And you'll understand me when I say that there appear to be areas of potential

misunderstanding between your stated policies and those of my administration.

Well, I'm third generation socialist.

I believe you're not.

Is that right?

That's correct.

And that being so, I'm asking my Secretary of State, Mr. Morgan, to fly to London

next week to discuss these areas of potential misunderstanding before they're

allowed to, shall we say, sour at the friendship between our two great nations.

Tell Marcus I'm looking forward to seeing him again.

I'll take him to another football match.

And if he's very good, I'll show him King's Garden too.

What the hell kind of a Prime Minister is that?

Not good.

Not congenial.

I thought your people told us he was a busted flush.

We had the full media campaign.

What was all that stuff about a football match?

Oh, when I was over there last year, he took me to a football game.

His team was playing in town.

Sheffield Tuesday.

Political parties.

You know why it might be in here?

It's a bit public, isn't it?

Don't worry, you're looking at the Masters now.

Apparently, I'm a man of power and influence.

So who

are the other Masters?

Who's here?

Anyone in the Cabinet?

Lawrence Wainwright, Chancellor of the Exchequer,

token moderate, a voice of common sense and reason.

He's there to reassure the international bankers.

Very smiley, though, Harry.

Seems like a nice boy.

Joan Cook, Home Secretary, feminist, unilateralist and street fighter.

Not a bad little disco dancer to boo, neither.

Tall guy at the back.

Tom Newsome, Foreign Secretary, National Union of Teachers.

He speaks four different languages.

Which I should imagine makes him unique for British Foreign Secretaries.

Most of them can't even speak English.

Any more questions?

Yes.

May I have this donk?

That was two years ago.

We must be seen to be friends.

Unity is strength.

That's what I said in my cornflake packet.

But Lawrence Wainwright down.

You don't know where he's been.

He's the only silver person in the room.

Apart from the Prime Minister.

May he please dance with my wife while I vote me constituency.

My pleasure.

I thought you'd be hard at work on the King's speech.

I've got to leave in 20 minutes time.

I'm still here at midnight.

I turn into a running dog of capitalism.

We won't get it wrong this time, will we, Harry?

Couple of people like you and Tom on our side.

It can't fail.

I promise.

Give it a few days for the excitement to die down.

Yeah.

See you soon.

You too.

Listen, there's no difference between this darling

and one of your daddy's old Italian biscuits.

Rubbish.

People here are much better dressed.

Do you realize, if your father had gone to

Winchester, he'd be probably running the BBC by now.

I know he probably is, but he doesn't even know it.

Shut your... Excuse me.

Ah, four o'clock Tuesday.

Four o'clock Tuesday what?

Four o'clock Tuesday.

Informed White House sources have confirmed that Lawrence Wainwright,

as expected, is the next Chancellor of the Exchequer.

Mr Wainwright, who lost a bitterly fought campaign through Labour leadership two

years ago, now has the job of keeping the economy in good

shape and countering the fears of money men at home and abroad.

Mr Wainwright, a familiar figure now from his many years on Labour's front benches,

is being seen as the only concession for more moderate factions in the party.

Otherwise, the cabinet is dominated by new faces,

predominantly left-wingers like Foreign Secretary Tom Newsom.

Mr Newsom, a former Bradford school teacher and NUT activist, is best known

for his swashbuckling speeches and a style as individual as the Prime Minister's own,

as is Home Secretary Joan Cook.

Mrs Cook has been called Labour's radical conscience and is

generally regarded as unofficial deputy to Mr Perkins himself.

Now, you will find in front of you copies of the

full draft of the King's speech to Parliament.

You will see that it covers health, education, public ownership, worker

participation, housing, minimum wages, and our non-nuclear strategy.

Now, I assume that we're all agreed that we should honour our election pledges.

It has a certain novelty value.

And the roof will fall in.

Exactly.

His Majesty proclaiming power to the people and yanks go home.

Can't wait to hear it.

Yes, but as Tom says, the roof will fall in.

Now, each of you has a programme to fulfil, and each of you will be surrounded

by civil servants telling you that it can't be done.

I imagine this will apply particularly at the Treasury.

I'm well acquainted with all the pertinent answers.

You do better with pertinent questions.

I'm sure you'll all cope admirably.

I mean, if you can handle the Labour Party, then

the civil service shouldn't be too difficult.

And, of course, my harsh words about the

civil service do not apply to Sir James here.

This could be a difficult time for all of us.

We have to respect democracy.

We have also to respect the nation.

I give my apologies to George tonight.

I'm afraid I'm a little weary of Mozart.

Any man's weary of Mozart is weary of life.

Sir Percy, I would like you to confirm that nobody is topping the telephones I use.

I understand you've already been given that assurance, Prime Minister.

You're the coordinator of intelligence.

I want to hear it from you.

Because somebody else has been topping my telephone for years.

I mean, I know why.

It's because I mix with people that are trade unionists and peace campaigners.

Damn it, I am a trade unionist and a peace campaigner.

I won't try to deceive you.

There have been times in the past when the security service...

When the security services have maintained files

upon you and other members of your cabinet.

I appreciate your honesty.

I would like to see those files first thing in the morning.

Will that involve paying somebody overtime?

You have the files.

Good.

Do you know I got here, Downing Street?

Will of the people.

Three years ago, I exposed major crime in our financial institutions, and that

caused a crisis of confidence in the Tory government

that had placed its faith on those institutions.

But what's important is, I did it by discovering secrets.

And you know what?

It were easy.

Morning, girls.

There are 12-year-old kids in Sheffield who can tunnel their way into top security

information systems as easily as shelling peas.

I mean, so why do we bother?

This country hasn't kept a secret that mattered a damn in the last 25 years,

despite all your departments.

And the Americans and the Russians know everything within 24 hours.

True or false?

I would prefer to reserve judgment by myself.

I'm not trying to put you out of work.

There must be plenty of useful things you could do.

But I've given orders that I intend to run open government.

I'm answerable to the people.

I'm not going to keep secrets from them.

Here endeth the lesson.

Perhaps you'll be good enough to collect a couple of tinbooks.

I'm sorry?

Likes for shaving, please.

Now he's attacking the freedom of the press.

One man, one paper.

This isn't some jumped-up banana republic.

I fear we may be becoming a jumped-up democracy.

There's a job for you if you want it, now that you're out.

Don't tell me it's a black bloody time.

Well, I did, but you were drunk.

Come here.

So what's the job?

My new press secretary.

Well, what about Bill?

Well, you've gone to Walworth Road in search of a quiet life.

I need you here to keep the press sweet.

No more lobby correspondents.

No more whispering behind hands.

No more unattributable leaks.

We stand on our own two feet and we tell the truth.

Original, don't you think?

What do I do in my spare time?

Keep an eye on the bastards that work here.

You won't need to be a spy.

I imagine you ran the names through the computer.

Good evening.

Good evening.

Good evening.

Yes, three communists, two trotskouts.

Good evening.

Good evening.

Le Quere.

That's par for the course in any cabinet during my lifetime.

Principal.

Plus a senior minister is screwing a young lady from Hampstead Labour Party.

I always assumed that was more or less why

young ladies joined the Hampstead Labour Party.

Is there anything else we should be doing?

Where else should we do anything?

And a glimpse there of His Majesty as the state coach turns once again into

Whitehall, flanked by the sovereign's escort.

And so the King returns now to the palace after announcing what many are already

calling the most radical legislative program of this century.

Perkins is dangerous and quite possibly psychotic into the bargain.

Voters disagree with you.

There are three ex-communists in his cabinet.

There is no hurry, Mr. Fiends.

Perkins is enjoying his honeymoon.

Who'd want to spoil anyone's honeymoon?

The man is lethal.

I believe Caligula was pretty well liked in the early days of his administration.

The White House is in touch with the situation.

And we are very sensitive about freelance activity,

Mr. Fiends, for obvious historical reasons.

You don't mind if I eat between cigars, do you?

Bad for your health?

Ladies, gentlemen, thank you for coming.

Good morning.

Well, I'm sure...

I'm sure you're all as pleased as I am to say farewell to your off-the-record

briefings and to have in our place a daily on-the-record televised press conference,

which I myself will be attending at least twice a week, workload permitting.

Now, I promised you open government, and as part of the effort to fulfill that

promise, I want to give you the chance to ask

openly any questions on any topic of topic interest.

The main business of the week outside of the House, Marcus Morgan, the US Secretary

of State, arrives for frank and free discussions of matters of mutual interest.

These matters include unilateral nuclear disarmament and withdrawal of NATO.

Yes, well, I'm interested in those matters, and I understand the White House is too.

Now, the Chancellor of Exchequer will be meeting with the International Monetary

Fund to discuss the implications financially for our legislative program.

The moment of truth.

And the Foreign Secretary will be flying out on a goodwill

mission to Stockholm, where I've asked him to pick a few Swedes.

Fancy a Phoebe to Stockholm, then.

I'll have to remain non-nuclear.

When was there ever a decent use to Sweden?

You're on board.

He was a bloody boring one all the time.

You'll find a summary of all this on the press releases in front of you, ladies.

Now, before I invite questions, one tiny moan.

I mean, I believe passionately in free speech.

I will fight for your right to say that I'm a lousy Prime Minister.

But, a bit slow.

I mean, give the latter a chance.

Now, any questions?

One at a time.

One at a time.

Nice pictures, Bob.

Love the Zeke, Kyle.

Run it on page one.

Headline, Harry blows his top.

Box at the bottom.

Time runs out for the nurses.

Put the conference on page five.

Hmm.

Nice picture.

They are bastards.

You did not blow your top.

Oh, you're blowing yours.

That reduces your level.

Besides, I've got a much more important job for you to do.

All that.

What's this?

Oh, I've asked for security files on the cabinet and my staff.

Suppose you give me mine.

Jesus Christ, there's miles at the dance hall.

Oh, I press a button that rolls off the computer.

You're there.

So I see.

I think very highly of you, which proves that's a cleaned up version.

By the way, isn't your girlfriend a computer programmer at the Ministry of Defence?

Or did I imagine it?

It is all right for this material to leave the premises?

Certainly not.

It doesn't make sure it doesn't fall into the right hands.

And US Secretary of State Marcus Morgan arrives at Heathrow for talks that are

crucial to future relations between Great Britain and the United States.

We talked to Mr. Morgan about how he sees the profits of the Western alliance.

What was the question again?

Your question was, has this material been

sub-edited, laundered or otherwise cleaned up?

The answer is yes.

How do I find out what's been cut?

burglary?

I'll tell you what's needed here.

Cheerful Baden-age, Marcus.

The Prime Minister and Secretary of State exchanged pleasantries before the meeting.

Looking well, Harry.

How about that for a pleasantry?

Fine, fine.

I've been working on my public image.

I was thinking of ordering a new air of air.

What do you think?

I mean, doesn't the White House have a... Harry, stop tampering with perfection.

Shouldn't we be taking the photos down in the lobby?

Item 2, your international policies.

Now, according to the King's speech, you want to remove all foreign bases from

British soil, you want to scrap nuclear weapons and go neutral.

Not a lie.

I will do it by negotiation, not by force.

I'm authorized to warn you.

If you jeopardize the Western alliance, my government

will be forced to regard that as a hostile act.

Neutrality equals hostility.

Isn't that a peculiar use of a language?

Don't misunderstand me.

Now, your industry is in a shambles.

It's not your fault, it's what you inherited.

But you need help to put it back together again.

You need dollars.

And nothing is for nothing.

Go back three spaces, Marcus.

The message I'm hearing from you goes like this.

If we want the cooperation of the United States, we must change all our policies.

Grumwell, try this for size.

We have an overwhelming mandate from the people in plain language.

They are sick of being an aircraft carrier for the United States.

Now, what we have in mind is a phased withdrawal over two years.

That can't be done.

Has to be done.

It's the will of the people.

The will of the people is sacred.

We hold that truth to be self-evident.

Oh, bullshit.

You get rid of those bases.

It's an open invitation to the enemy.

Come on in, comrades, the door is open.

Are you saying that without nuclear weapons, a small

nation like ours is defenseless against aggression?

That's what I'm saying.

You need the damn things.

Vietnam didn't.

Is this an adjournment?

No more to be said.

I was going to take you to see Chapel Wednesday.

That's right.

It was Wednesday.

The State Department spokesman went on to say that although the talks have been

frank and businesslike, there remain substantial areas of disagreement over

Britain's role in the Western alliance, which must, he said, call into question

the British government's commitment to the defense of basic democratic freedoms.

I indicated on election night that I viewed Harry

Perkins as catastrophic from the nation's point of view.

A charming man in many ways, but you can't pay the bills with charm.

Now, I get no pleasure of saying I told you so.

Tiny, tiny word in everybody's ear.

The BBC mustn't be seen to be encouraging the idea.

There's a crisis.

Good morning.

Am I still probably going to be number one?

With Vlad the Impaler a really bad second, yes.

Do you want some coffee?

Which of them need immediate answers?

Well, the Times says that without a massive international loan, you're going

to run out of money to pay for pensions, sickness benefit,

unemployment benefit, et cetera, all within one month.

Well, I can answer that.

That's true.

Have the others checked?

It's definitely been washed clean.

The trouble is, we don't know how much has been edited out.

I also found this in your mail.

It seems personal, sort of highly personal.

It is.

The Downing Street press office is silent tonight, but a sense of impending crisis

has been fueled here in London by reports that the French and German governments

have followed America's lead in refusing to bail out the Perkins team.

Somebody loves you, Conrad.

Or dead once.

Sorry.

What have you got?

I'll show you mine if you show me yours.

Don't be so disgusting.

One for overbait.

You recall Thompson was jailed for contempt?

Wrote the Guardian piece on the MOD.

Yes, it was very unfortunate.

Refused to reveal his sources.

We think we've identified one of them.

Elizabeth Fane.

She was one of their computer programmers.

Three meetings with her so far.

Yes, I think we should, too.

Troy,

can you just tell me the fourth story?

How did the IMF talks go, Chancellor?

Very constructive.

What would you tell the Prime Minister?

Everything.

How true is the reports of the serious cabinet spin?

You should know, you wrote them.

Even I can't answer ten questions simultaneously.

Now, we're in court.

Apologies from the Foreign Secretary, whose flight from Stockholm has been delayed.

Now, items one to ten on the agenda inclusive, the Chancellor's report on his

meeting with the International Monetary Fund.

Well, are you bearing tablets from the mountaintop, Comrade?

They've made an offer.

I recommend its acceptance in broad principle,

though we may well argue about the fine detail.

The IMF is prepared to make the loan that we've asked of them.

That's the first point to note.

Obviously, they're setting down various terms and conditions.

We may not like it, but that, of course, is their right and responsibility.

I'm afraid we shall have to trim our public spending program in the next two years.

Trim?

By how much?

By a little less than ten thousand million.

That's not trimming, that's butchery.

Our Comrade will observe the democratic process.

The Chancellor will present his case, and then there'll

be as much time for debate as any of you require.

In your own time.

Thank you, Prime Minister.

Now, if you'd like to turn to page three,

we have to realize that we're living in the real world.

The books have to balance.

Bills have to be paid.

Ultimately, we have to stand on our own feet and obligations have to be met.

My God, what sort of language is that?

What happened to get on your bike, moaning minis, the enemy within?

You're in the wrong party, Lawrence.

Must be that expensive school you've fairly sent here.

Prime Minister, I'd like the Home Secretary to withdraw those remarks.

Oh, in South Yorkshire, they'd be considered pretty mild.

I'm not sure it's worth continuing the debate.

I feel I'm wasting my time.

Democracy takes time.

Dictatorship is quicker, but too many people get shot.

Yes?

I'm sorry, Prime Minister, but there's an urgent telephone call.

Probably my tailor.

Excuse me, Comrades.

Comrades, I've got someone to tell you.

The Foreign Secretary has just returned from his goodwill visit to Stockholm.

Now, while he was there, he also met officials

from the International State Bank of Moscow.

Now, here are the terms.

He and I drew them up some time ago.

The Russians are lending us the money?

Well, they're a commercial bank, just like Barclays.

The money will come from oil countries outside the Western Bloc.

The Arabs?

And others.

They're a very reputable bank.

I believe they've got money from Japan and Hong Kong lying in their vaults, too.

May we have time to read this small print?

Yeah, of course, but I assure you, there is nothing even

in the small print that would in any way betray our voters.

Prime Minister?

Lawrence, before you go on, I owe you an apology.

All this is the proper concern of the Chancellor of the Exchequer.

But all this was planned months ago when we were in opposition.

It was necessary to maintain the charade for

the sake of the Americans and the IMF and so on.

I was used?

Yes.

And for that, I apologize.

But the truth of the matter is that if we play by their rules, we lose.

If we create our own rules, we have a chance.

Wait for the Cabinet Foreign Secretary.

What can it tell us about the Stavros?

It's the capital of Sweden.

Do you not have a computer program to tell us when the

Foreign Secretary is negotiating secret agreements?

We underestimated Perkins.

The Americans want blood, but that, of course, is their style.

They watch too many Westerns in their formative years.

On the other hand, I think several of my own

kith and kin would appreciate a token corpuscle.

Ladies and gentlemen of the Free Press, I give

you tomorrow's headline with my compliments.

Perkins saved by Kremlin gold.

Thank you.