The Prime Minister's Christmas diary*
(Photo by Jeff J Mitchell/Getty Images)
It’s nearly Christmas and I’ve decided to get in festive spirit. For one week only, I’m transforming myself from boring old Geography teacher Theresa, to Theresa: Master of Fun.
Monday
Last night, I decided to cancel the meaningful vote on The Deal. 112 of my own MPs have publicly admitted it’s crap, and there’s not a hope in hell it’ll get through Parliament.
Geography teacher Theresa would have told her cabinet of her change of heart immediately and briefed the press ASAP to soften tomorrow’s headlines. But where’s the fun in that?
Instead, I told Govey the vote is “100%” going ahead as planned, and made him tell the country so on the wireless. Then, just to put the cherry on the cake, I got my spokesperson to tell the Lobby the same thing.
Just imagine how they’ll all laugh when they find out I was only joking! Politicians and journalists love it when the Prime Minister makes mugs of them.
Tuesday
The old bores didn’t see the funny side, and now everyone’s saying there’s going to be a vote of No Confidence in me. Sad. But it’s OK, I’ve got a plan.
I’m in Brussels now, so I’ll change my flight home to a late one, grab a few clothes from Downing Street in the dead of night, and then get the red-eye back to Europe before Graham [Brady] can catch me.
They’ll stamp their feet for a while, but if I hide out here for a few days they’re sure to forget all about me.
Wednesday
Small hiccough. Graham was lying in wait for me when I got back. He’d been on the doorstep for five hours, apparently, and had Larry wrapped around his neck for warmth when I arrived. So now that pesky No Confidence vote is going ahead this evening after all. Not very Christmassy.
On the bright side, good old Jeremy was a darling in PMQs. Hardly brought up the B word at all, and didn’t say a single word about the vote later. Must remember to buy him a drink.
Thursday
I won! I won! Only 117 of my own MPs want me gone immediately! And the Guardian’s has declared I’m only the second worst Prime Minister of all time! Victory for Theresa!
I’m going to go to Brussels now to celebrate and flex my muscles. With that sort of mandate behind me, surely EU leaders won’t dare refuse me anything.
Friday
Oh. They did dare. I’ve been sent packing. They weren’t even impressed when I told them I’m not as unsuccessful as Anthony Eden. Honestly, is nothing enough for these people?
So it looks like the transformation didn’t go exactly as planned. But never mind, Christmas is around the corner. And if I wait it out and keep telling people nothing has changed, this Brexit malarkey is bound to have sorted itself out by January…. Isn’t it?
*as imagined by Olivia Utley
