The Trial Of David Cameron

Chapter 1

We ought to do something about Henry's oral history project."
"I'd forgotten. Why us?"

Penny said, "Now he's back at a school they want to catch things before they're forgotten. They say grandparents are suitable. We have a longer perspective."

"It doesn't make us more objective. I suppose you mean this." He gestured widely. "The garden a vegetable plot, mud on the floors, rationing, power cuts, Barnes wrecked and two biscuits a week." He ate one. "And coffee only on Fridays."

They were sitting in the conservatory at the back of the house, planks across some of the roof struts where once the glazing had been. They were wearing heavy pullovers and boots.

"He's going to record what we say if they can charge up a machine. I think we should make some notes, Julius, rehearse a bit. I don't want to let him down. We must sound sensible, not garrulous. Go and find some paper."He stood up and went out to the hall past their dirty bikes and walked into the room they'd used as a study. It was gloomy. Some of the windows were smashed and boarded up. It was a tip of books and boxes and stacked paintings taken off the walls. There was a path through the piles to a desk itself covered with files and old batteries, a torn blotter, scattered pencils and pens. Peering closely into a drawer half open he pulled out a pad. "This'll do."

When he sat down again opposite Penny he said, "Where should we start?"

"It's the everyday they want. You know, what it was like for us who lived through it all."

"And worked until they purged me. Not committed enough to the will of the people."

"They'll have you back now or pay you off." She looked into the teapot. "There's another cup. Do you want it?"

"Weak as dishwater. I'd better have it. Waste not want not."

She poured. "I have to eke it out. The supplies aren't coming through yet. It's still rationed."

"So much for grow British," he said and made a note. "I'll have to mention the deficit, and borrowing on the markets, the currency, massive household debt and confidence." He put the pencil down, then picked it up and crossed out what he'd written. "No, bugger that. We simply couldn't pay our way and no one would lend to us anymore. We can't grow enough to feed ourselves, we don't have enough fuel and we don't sell enough to buy what we don't have. He should grasp that." He wrote quickly.