aims , but sooner or later we ’ ll be called in to clear up the mess they ’ ve left . As it was in the beginning , is now , and ever shall be .’
The young man had always hated this paternalistic bullshit . The ‘ steady on old chap ’ model of government . The belief that the people on the opposite benches were fundamentally decent sorts , if a little woolly-minded . The old man could think what he liked , but he was angry about what they were doing to his country – he didn ’ t just want to reign in their changes , he wanted to rip them up . ‘ You make it sound like we stand for nothing . Like we ’ re just there to preserve the status quo .’
‘ Preserve , conserve . That ’ s about the sum of it , yes . The clue ’ s in the name .’ As far as the old man could see , people voted for his party when they wanted someone else to do their political thinking for them . When they were tired of politicians who ranted and lectured and glued themselves to things , who told them what they ought to think and where they should and shouldn ’ t do their shopping . Where they ’ d gone wrong was allowing the membership to choose their leader for them . The other lot were mad about internal party democracy and bottom-up decision-making , but theirs was a party predicated upon the notion of a natural governing class . One shouldn ’ t let the servants determine the line of succession . This woman was not within their political tradition . She would either wreck the party or turn it into something unrecognisable .
The young man had turned surly and unresponsive . The old man changed the topic , ‘ It ’ s a marvellous place , this . Run by a Pakistani family who moved here in the nineties . They were my constituents , so I wrote to the Home Office supporting their right to remain – and they were successful ! I was as green as you back then .’ The young man seems unmoved by this . ‘ Anyway , the business is now in its third generation of family-ownership and they ’ re as true-blue as they come .’ ‘ Your point being ?’ ‘ My point being that it took a family of immigrants to open a quintessential greasy spoon in a city otherwise scourged by hipster coffee shops and bubble tea .’ He says these last words as though they personally pain him . ‘ That ’ s my philosophy . One nation under God .’ ‘ Yes , but which God ?’ The old man is briefly taken aback . He fancies that he sees a smirk cross the young man ’ s face , almost imperceptible ; a mark of contempt – towards him , towards everything . He remembers what his colleagues told him about the young man ’ s online persona –
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