she has the right to be our candidate. No.

This isn't Tsarist Russia or the fucking Dimblebys!

What do we do? Send everyone to support Liam Bentley, including the Prime Minister.

You want to send Tom up there? He'll be all right as long as he doesn't do the smile.

You hit the phones.

I'll be with you in two shakes of a crying baby.

Wow! The black widow.

Malcolm. Congratulations. First Cabinet.

I heard you wowed them.

The meeting's just finished. How would you know that?

PM texted me. He was very impressed.

You could be nominated for best newcomer. Really?

No.

You knew Jim Leighton, didn't you?

The dead fucker. God rest him. Yeah, I did a bit, back home.

Very sad. All those weeks on life support. Nice chair.

Sad? Lying on your back getting fed nutrients through a tube? It's my idea of a fucking holiday.

How would you like to go to Leamington?

When?

This morning.

It's never too soon to go to Leamington. I've just taken over a department.

I have a hell of a lot... You're being asked by the PM specifically

to pop along to Leamington and do some photo-ops with Liam Bentley, supporting him, yeah?

I don't really have any choice, do I?

Of course you have a choice. You can decide exactly how you say yes.

You can do with a voice. Have fun with it.

Yes. In my own voice. I look forward to toasting your success.

Have a lovely time in Leamington, yeah?

Can I go? Of course, you can fucking go.

Jesus. Never easy.

Never fucking easy.

Yeah. Hi. Come in.

Um, yeah. Glynn. Glenn. What do you think of Glenn?

Well, it's sort of like asking what do I think of skirting boards.

I assume that we need them, but I'm not sure why.

I'm finding him very old school.