Flirty favourite of Tory big hitters with a canny feel for being in the right place at the right time
Now she has been linked to Boris Johnson, it may not be easy for Carrie Symonds to blend into the crowd
The sight of Boris Johnson, Michael Gove and Sajid Javid bopping to Abba songs on a dance floor largely populated by millennials rang alarms in Downing Street long before young Carrie Symonds was linked to the former foreign secretary.
Eyebrows were raised in March when social media revealed the trio went to her 30th birthday bash. Mr Johnson and Mr Gove were rumoured to have delivered gushing speeches at her family home in north London.
“The feeling inside Number 10 at the time was very much along the lines of ‘What on earth were they doing there?’” said one former aide. “Did they regularly turn up at children’s parties? It seemed very odd indeed.”
Delve inside the SW1 bubble and it emerges that privately educated Miss Symonds is something of a “Marmite” figure within the corridors of power.
Joining the Conservative press office in 2009 straight out of Warwick
‘What on earth were they doing there? Did they regularly turn up at children’s parties? ’
University where she graduated with a first class degree in theatre studies and history of art, her swift rise up the greasy pole appears to enthral and antagonise in equal measure.
While some happily paint a picture of a shrewd political operator with a passionate desire to make Britain a better place, others are rather less complimentary, putting her progress down to an unparalleled ability to win the hearts and minds of the more senior statesmen. One well-placed source told The Daily Telegraph: “Carrie is not what you’d describe as a girlie girl. She’s more of a man’s woman. And by that, I mean an older man’s woman.”
Having first encountered Mr Johnson, 54, while working at the Conservative campaign headquarters, she got to know the former mayor of London while working on the 2012 Back Boris campaign. A staunch Brexiteer, she tweeted her support for his articles and speeches.
Appointed special adviser to John Whittingdale, the former culture secretary, she apparently took pity on the newly divorced minister, insisting the 58-year-old father-of-two go with her to parties as her “plus one”.
One insider told how she would “flirt, flatter and bat her eyelids” to “get ahead”, adding that “a lot of people were like that in Westminster”.
With her penchant for immaculate designer dresses and vertiginous high heels, it’s perhaps unsurprising the former Godolphin and Latymer pupil, nicknamed Apples on account of her rosy cheeks, fell victim to catty gossip.
According to a former colleague: “Carrie stood out because of the way she looked and the fact that she wasn’t afraid to ingratiate herself with the highest echelons of the party. She had a knack of identifying the key players and making sure she was alongside them. She was always in the right place at the right time.” Some suggest her attraction to working for “father figures” may have stemmed from her relationship with her father, Matthew Symonds, 64, one of the founders of The Independent.
Miss Symonds was brought up by her mother Josephine Mcaffee, 70, in a three-bedroom townhouse in leafy East Sheen and though her father lived close by, he appears to have had little influence on her life, being married with his own family.
A Tory insider said: “She fits the pattern for Boris because she is vulnerable. It was the same with Petronella [Wyatt]. They all need rescuing and Boris sees himself as their knight in shining armour.”
After a stint with Mr Whittingdale, who will still not have a bad word said about her, she went on to advise some of the party’s biggest names, including Amber Rudd, then home secretary, Sajid Javid, her successor, and Mr Gove, the Environment Secretary. Her close relationship with Zac Goldsmith has long set tongues wagging in Westminster, though there is no evidence they have ever been anything other than good friends.
The multi-millionaire Tory MP for Richmond Park seems to have been instrumental in supporting her in the aftermath of the revelations about her private life, lending her one of his London flats to escape the media frenzy.
A source close to Mr Johnson said he had twice been spotted in Richmond Park recently, giving rise to speculation that some of their meetings may have been facilitated by Mr Goldsmith. Not that they have always sought privacy. On Valentine’s Day, they are understood to have had a meal at Rules in Covent Garden, while the week before they were photographed giggling at the Tories’ Black and White Ball. But the suggestion Mr Johnson sent a car to collect Miss Symonds from a wedding when he was foreign secretary to bring her to Chevening, his grace and favour residence, set the cat among the pigeons. While everyone heard rumours of her secret assignations, no one could believe someone so ambitious would risk a high-flying political career for an alleged fling with Westminster’s most high-profile philanderer. Many could be forgiven for wondering how the couple managed to keep their friendship secret for so long.
The answer perhaps lies in the fact that Miss Symonds’s formidable social tentacles reach well beyond elected politicians and into Fleet Street. With a reputation for being eager to impart front-page gossip, she appears to have built up a bank of allies on Right-wing publications that have been keen to jump to her defence in the face of the latest allegations. But a former colleague who claims to have been “forced out” of her job by Miss Symonds claims she went on holiday when there were important pieces of work to be delivered. “She could be incredibly ruthless and take credit for other people’s work,” she said. “I think she’ll be revelling in this and all the very best to her on that score.”