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Dearest Gentle Reader,
This Author had barely lifted her second cup of tea to her lips this Tuesday morning when the dispatches arrived, and she found herself setting it down again almost immediately – for a cold cup of tea is, at least, a manageable disappointment, whereas the state of the Kingdom’s public finances is quite another matter entirely.
Let us consider the arithmetic of misery. The Kingdom borrowed a mere £16 billion in June – a figure described by one economist as “a rare piece of good news” for the fresh-faced premiership of Lord Burnham and his newly appointed Chancellor, Lord Healey. Rare, indeed. One does not typically celebrate arriving only slightly later than expected to one’s own ruin. Total debt remains near £3 trillion, which is to say: close to the entire annual value of the Kingdom’s economy. Lord Burnham has pledged faithfully to honour Lady Reeves‘ fiscal rules, and one can only wish him the very best of British luck with that particular vow when the autumn Budget arrives with its parade of “tough choices.”
And yet Lord Burnham has not even completed his first full day in office before the daggers were drawn – and not from the Opposition, but from a man who was, merely yesterday, seated at the very same table in the Prime Minister’s Residence. Lord Jones, the former Chief Secretary to the Prime Minister under Lord Starmer, posted a photograph on Elon’s Lair Monday evening: a beer in hand, captioned “thank you and good night.” A gracious exit, one might have thought. Then came Tuesday breakfast, and with it, a pointed observation that the new government’s Digital ID programme is, in the assessment of the Crown Fiscal Watchdog, unfunded to the tune of some £0.6 billion annually. Lord Jones was, of course, a champion of this very programme until approximately twelve hours prior. This Author notes the irony, and trusts the Gentle Reader does too.
On a matter of far graver character, This Author must pause. An inquest has opened into the death of Lady Widdecombe, the formidable former minister and political firebrand who served the Southern Kingdom in one form or another for decades, and who was found with visible injuries at her home in Devon on the ninth of July. The cause of death has not yet been established to the coroner’s satisfaction, and the inquest has been adjourned pending criminal proceedings. A man of eight-and-twenty stands charged with her murder, and counter-terrorism officers remain involved. Whatever one’s politics – and Lady Widdecombe was not a woman who invited neutrality – she was a figure of considerable substance, and the circumstances of her passing are both grave and deeply troubling. This Author records the matter with all the solemnity it warrants.
To somewhat lighter, if still deeply damp, affairs: Thames Water’s lenders have arrived bearing gifts. Specifically, they have arrived bearing a “golden share” – that is to say, a government veto over major decisions – in a bid to forestall nationalisation by the new administration. The lenders have sweetened their £10 billion rescue proposal with hundreds of millions in additional funds, and have proposed greater involvement for local authorities, modelled upon the arrangement Lord Burnham himself oversaw in Greater Manchester. One does admire the cheek of presenting a man with a scheme based upon his own prior work, as though he might not recognise his own furniture. The water industry regulator must review any new proposal, and the government has observed, with diplomatic understatement, that it “stands ready for all eventualities.” This Author stands ready for her water bill.
And finally – for no edition of This Author’s column is complete without at least one tale that defies the ordinary boundaries of credibility – a marmoset monkey was discovered on Friday aboard a number 302 omnibus in north-west the Capital, abandoned inside a laundry bag, which itself concealed a small metal bird cage. The creature, now named Oyster after the Capital‘s celebrated travelcard, had been left with a single piece of apple and was, understandably, both stressed and dehydrated. She has since been transferred to a sanctuary and presented with a male companion, which is, frankly, a better outcome than most passengers enjoy after a journey on that particular route. The Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals fears this may be the first of many such abandonments, following new legislation requiring primate owners to obtain licences. The Gentle Reader will note that when faced with paperwork, some among us choose compliance, and others choose to leave a monkey on a bus. Society, as This Author has long maintained, contains multitudes.
I am, as ever, your most devoted observer – Lady Whistledown.