Holly stared at the Prime Minister like a zoo visitor spying an iguana
HAROLD Macmillan, when prime minister, would start his Monday with a spot of Trollope and a stroll in Birch Grove’s gardens before a languid savoury for elevenses. Chillaxed Harold would then have had Perkins motor him up to London in the Alvis, a brace of pheasant in the boot.
So long as he was in Westminster by the time the House convened at 2.30pm.
David Cameron, being made of springier, zingier stuff, zipped along early yesterday to the studios of ITV’s This Morning, there to discuss matters of state with those two philosophers Phillip Schofield and Holly Willoughby, the show’s presenters. Did you SEE Holly’s top? Phillip plainly had. His hair was standing on end.
Holly was in a short-sleeved tennis jersey affair, its cleavage bay much embellished. A cat’s cradle of white spaghetti work and lacy crocheting was further defended by a white necklace and, I think, pearls.
There has been stuff in the papers about how modern men can undo women’s garments with one twang. Any bloke laying fingers on Holly’s top half yesterday would have ended up in a terrible snaggle. The German U-boat pens at Brest were easier to get into than Holly’s topknot.
Mr Cameron sat opposite his interrogators, on edge, literally – barely half a buttock can have been properly supported on that sofa. He was full of adrenalin, bouncing up and down to the extent that he could have been trotting on a pony.
Modern politicians know that one miscalculated phrase, one error of emotion on daytime telly is more damaging than a misjudged hour in front of a parliamentary committee. The mid-morning TV interview is, for today’s statesman, a combination of high-wire and minefield.
The premise for this visit was a discussion about adoption policy, subject of a government announcement yesterday.
Mr Cameron, a-quiver to the instincts of his audience, clipped on his caring, concerned face and spoke more than once of ‘warm and loving families’. Holly returned service with a caring, concerned look all of her own. In terms of an empathy match this was vintage Borg v Connors. Hard to separate two masters of their craft.
To open-necked Phillip and his gel-quiffed hairdo fell the role of the more quizzical party. Before long the interview broadened. Viewing figures do not brook unlimited discussion of adoption, no matter how worthy that issue. We soon heard that a viewer called Loretta (a very This Morning name) wanted to know ‘how can families afford to adopt when you’re making it impossible to live out of poverty?’ Mr Cam- eron correctly identified this as a segue to the tax credits row. Before long we were on to the House of Lords, international terrorism, state surveillance powers and Dave’s disinclination to seek a third term as PM.
All this was achieved without rancour or talking over one another, as happens, ahem, on certain radio programmes. MR Cameron produced statistics on jobs created since 2010, increased childcare benefits and rising tax allowances. On tax credits, he somehow kept his temper, even when Phillip came out with stuff about how he had ‘this great stone around the Conservatives’ neck that you just don’t care’. ‘Well we do care,’ said Mr Cameron with the smoky patience of one who has been on anger-management training. Holly, who stared at Mr Cameron like a zoo visitor watching an iguana, seemed better disposed to the visitor.
Later Mr Cameron joshed with the programme’s showbiz correspondent, a slightly familiar young fellow called Rylan.
Some may pooh-pooh the Prime Minister’s priorities in doing this daytime show but I suspect Mr Cameron was shrewd to grasp that his Government’s case could do with a kickstart and needs, in particular, to reach the reasonable, not-particularly political households of Middle Britain.
The past few weeks have seen worrying drift in the Cameroon cause as shrieky Leftist propaganda about the ‘wicked Tories’ has taken root. If yesterday morning’s interview was the start of a Cabinet fightback, it is not before time.