intellectual impairment for example, and requiring that only those eligible for full-time work could be considered. We had also considered how the changeover to the new system would work, with half of the sitting MPs remaining in post for two years to work alongside the same number of new delegates and for this revolving system to continue ever after on a four year cycle.
We were also careful to offer financial compensation to any sitting MP who did not wish to continue as part of the new system and extended this offer to all the unelected political appointees and hangers-on that were being paid, in one way or another, from the public purse.
This, as it turned out, was the masterstroke. Any warm feelings the public and papers may have still had about their old system quickly evaporated when the pigs started rushing to the compensation trough, abandoning on the way any of the high minded principles they had individually espoused before.
Good riddance to bad rubbish was, in the end, the majority opinion.
To cut an already over-long story short, I’ve now got to a point in the tale which you all know about already, given that you represent the sixth intake of appointed MPs to the modern parliament.
My colleagues and I have to deliver this lecture many more times over the next few days as your fellow new members congregate. I hope it’s been useful to set everything into an historical context and remind you, if you didn’t already know, just how important your role here will be.
Perhaps now would be a good time to break for lunch. This afternoon, at two o’clock, I’d like you to meet George Ling, one of the people who founded the Campaign for True Democracy.’
The meeting broke up. Imogen joined the others in the now bustling cafe-bar and they all squeezed around a couple of tables with their drinks and sandwiches.
‘What do think of it so far?’
The question came from John Parker, but sufficed for them all.
‘Myself, I think it’s a whole lot better than crawling about on roofs in the rain and I’m really looking forward to the whole experience’ he continued. John represented Suffolk South and was, therefore, a relatively close neighbour to Imogen. ‘How about you Imogen-a bit different to the Dragon wouldn’t you say?
‘I thought I knew you from somewhere. John? isn’t it. I would have recognised you earlier if you hadn’t been wearing a suit and had your hair cut. God -it’s a small world. I suppose you’ve already marked out the best pubs round here? Where’s your ‘residence’, as they say’.
‘It’s quite a nice apartment down towards Chiswick, not far from the brewery, to answer both questions in one. Not quite Adnams but Fullers will do for a while, and I can always top up at weekends.
‘Am I the only one who’s going to be travelling in each day?’
The question came from a still very attractive, middle aged lady, the only one of the group that seemed genuinely relaxed and comfortable.
‘ Amelia St. Beuve by the way. Dagenham, for my sins. I had the choice to stay in town but thought it better to try and continue a normal domestic life if I could.’
A quick role call established that Rowley Hoare was a car mechanic from Hereford, Archie Turnbull and Caroline Goubault were both shop-workers from Solihull and Swaledale respectively, Guy Simmonds was a farm-worker from Lincolnshire, Indra Chowdary a call centre worker from Portsmouth, Leonie Chichester a civil servant from Neath and Julie Smyth a GP from Winchester.
‘So, what do we think of it so far?’
‘For me, being selected in the Lottery seems a lot like winning the Lottery, if you know what I mean.’
Guy Simmonds. Up to now he’d not said a word to anyone. He’d sat through the events of the day with the beginnings of a wry smile permanently fixed on his face. A thirty year old farm worker representing the Fenland area of Lincolnshire whose only real first-hand experience of the outside world before now had been his bi-weekly trips to Kings Lynn for the markets and the occasional day-out in Norwich.
‘I’ve been working on the land since I was fifteen. I love it. And when this is all over I daresay I’ll go back to it and love it all over again. You could never accuse my neighbours of being particularly open to the world and I’ve always thought it would be good to get out there and see some things. Do stuff. Now I’m being paid to do just that, and far more than I could ever expect to earn at home. I know it’s only temporary, but I think it’s great.
‘My dad told me a story once, about something that happened near me at the end of the last century. A school inspector arrived. He had to organise the amalgamation of two small village schools. Each was half way down its own drain, off the Dereham road, and only separated by about half a mile, line of sight across the fields. He knew he’d bitten off too much when he made his pitch at one of the village halls and someone stood up to say, ‘We don’t want nuthin to do with it, they’re a funny lot over there.’
‘He was proud of it. The world outside his drain was a very strange place indeed for my old dad. Thank God I’m not too much like him.’
The story drew smiles and laughter from around the tables and encouraged others to introduce the odd anecdote, so that in the end, although nobody had addressed the original question, it was clear that people were at least feeling comfortable. The ice had been broken, or at least cracked a bit.
___________________________________
’Good afternoon everybody’.
George Ling was a handsome old man with a full head of silver and an engaging presence. He looked like a little boy who had just been given ten pounds to spend on sweets and an airfix kit. And with good reason. He had been one of the architects of the new Parliament and had never grown tired of the pleasure it gave him. For him to deliver these little lectures every couple of years was a great honour and privilege, as it was to meet the product of his work.
‘My name is George Ling. I was one of the founder members of CTD. I know that John Parminter has been giving you his potted history of the new Parliament and I would now like to address you on other matters which I hope you will think important for the way you spend your time here. At some point in the next day or so you will be given a set of rules and procedures, and a provisional timetable for the work of the house. This will, of course, provide you with a diary of things you are absolutely required to do, but it will also describe how you can get involved in issues of particular interest to your constituents or yourselves. Although there are no longer ‘party politics’ there are plenty of pressure groups trying to promote one policy or another, and you will probably all develop your own sense of what you think is right or wrong with these proposals.
Everything that you do from now on must be down to you. If you feel strongly enough about something it is possible for you to present your proposal for change to your colleagues and, eventually, to have your idea presented for approval by the house or even by referendum to the country.
What I want to talk about is the relationship you have with your constituents, and to do that I need to talk about how things used to be done in what I think of as the bad old days.
Up until 2015 we had a party-political system. By some definitions it was a democratic government. About half of you here today will have voted in that system and have your own opinion of the value to you of that process. The method was that the voter was presented with a multiple choice of candidate, only one or two of which would have a chance of winning in their constituency. If you voted for a minor candidate who stood no chance of election you might think it a wasted