Confessions of a minister - Volume three, Revelations 19

Sunday
That rag KullHadd is on my back again. Today not only are they accusing me of being corrupt, now it seems I am incompetent as well! I'd have thought you needed a degree of competence in order to be corrupt, but no matter. I shall instruct my lawyers to sue.

When I ask wifey for her opinion, she says: "Corrupt? Of course you are. Incompetent? Certainly. But I thought that's why you were hidden away in a backwater ministry." With allies like her... KullHadd seems almost supportive.

Monday
After Cabinet this morning the PM asks me what I think of his plans to curb public spending. I reply: Hmm, it's a double-edged sword, Prim. Cut spending and risk another recession... Encourage spending and you risk galloping inflation.

He snorts: "Thank you for that. I could have got that info out of any textbook on basic economics... the red primer... the one with the large bold print... and pictures on every page". It's nice to see he values my opinion.

Tuesday
The billboard outside the newsagent's reads: "New government sex scandal". In my office, I open my copy of The Times with trembling hands... but pheeeew, it's not me this time. Apparently the parliamentary secretary for sewage outflows has been photographed in flagrante with some Ukrainian slapper.

But... forewarned is forearmed. When I visit V this evening, I'll make damn sure there's no film in that camera I bought her.

Later to V's: No film, but V sees me checking and says: "Oh please! You think I'd stoop so low as to take stills of you doing... you know. Absolutely not! Oh no, you're on DVD and video". What?

Wednesday
Am invited to open new, updated IT facility at my old school.

When I tour round it, I see one young lad, sitting in front of a Website marked: TOP SECRET. He tells me his hobby is hacking into the unhackable... Fort Knox, The Pentagon, the Stasi files, the PN archives.

Really? He nods: "Yes, I've got some quite interesting stuff on you, actually". What? He smiles: "Give my love to V". Cheeky little bugger!

Thursday
PM: To my doctor for my regular health check. He gives me the once-over, sighs... then says: "You'll live, but you really must realise you're not 20 any more. All that er... extracurricular activity is putting quite a strain on your heart. Give it up, old boy... give it up". Give what up? Politics? No way... it's my life-blood, it's making me more healthy, not less. Or did he mean?... Oh no! These days that's the only exercise I get.

Friday
To an evening conference at one of those large hotels at St George's... that try to disguise the fact that they don't have any guests by switching the lights on in all the bedrooms.

We're to address the vexed question of "anti-Arab sentiment and perceptions in the West". The first speaker is a fat American who swears there is no anti-Arab feeling... as far as he's concerned: "They're all my brothers"... etc... Then the chairman calls on me to reply for the Semitic races. Semitic, moi? No you've got it all wrong... I've prepared a speech from the West's point of view... Help!

Late to V's: Who casually informs me she's four days late. What? She continues: "True... I'm four days late in taking back my library book". Don't... do that to me, Petal.

Saturday
For some unfathomable reason, wifey and I are condemned to attend a "performance" at the St James... Printing Press... or whatever it's called these days.

It turns out to be a totally forgettable play in cod Maltese, which comprises an interminable series of shouting matches and basic gymnastics. It's performed by a company of bright-eyed and totally talentless youngsters.

I am not amused and afterwards say so to wifey. She replies: "I don't know what you're complaining about, you were fast asleep on my shoulder just two minutes into it". Not true! It took me all of five minutes to drop off.