Downing Street Years - Margaret Thatcher [519]
When Norman left, Tim Renton, the Chief Whip, now back in London, came in. He had undoubtedly breathed a sigh of relief that Norman was not coming back. He now argued strongly that William Waldegrave — who was on the left of the Party — should join the Cabinet. William was slim, cerebral and aloof — a sort of Norman St John Stevas without jokes — and he seemed likely to be even less of an ally. But I had never kept talented people out of my Cabinets just because they were not of my way of thinking, and I was not going to start even now. I asked him to take on the Department of Health.
But I still wanted a new face at Education, where John MacGregor’s limitations as a public spokesman were costing us dear in an area of great importance. So I appointed Ken Clarke — again not someone on my wing of the Party, but an energetic and persuasive bruiser, very useful in a brawl or an election. John MacGregor I moved to Geoffrey’s old post as Leader of the House. The appointments were well received. Although my preferred strategy of bringing back Norman had failed, my objective of uniting the Party seemed to be succeeding.
Any prospect of a return to business as usual, however, was quickly dispelled. I spent Saturday 3 November at Chequers working with my advisers on my speech on the Address, which had, of course, now assumed a new importance in the light of Geoffrey’s resignation. That evening Bernard Ingham rang through to read me an open letter Michael Heseltine had written to his constituency chairman. It was ostensibly about the need for the Government to chart a new course on Europe. In fact, it was the first tentative public step in the Heseltine leadership bid. Sunday’s papers (4 November) were accordingly full of stories about the leadership. They also contained the first opinion poll findings taken after Geoffrey’s departure. Unsurprisingly, they were very bad. Labour was shown in one to be 21 per cent ahead. I spent the day working on another speech — on the environment — which I was to deliver on Tuesday in Geneva.
On as many Monday mornings as possible I used to meet Ken Baker and the Central Office team to look through the diary for the week ahead. Over lunch I would also discuss the political situation with Ken, the business managers and some other Cabinet colleagues. That Monday we talked about almost everything except what was on everyone’s mind — whether or not there would be a leadership contest.
This was still far from certain. A feeling was now evident in the British press that Michael had perhaps overplayed his hand in his open letter. If he did not now stand, he would be accused of cowardice. If he did stand, he would probably lose — despite the tremors over Geoffrey’s departure. Most people felt that he would have been better chancing his luck after a general election, which my enemies hoped and expected I would lose.
This was the background to the discussion I had with Peter Morrison, my PPS, and Cranley Onslow, Chairman of the ‘22, on Tuesday afternoon (6 November) after a short visit to Geneva to address the World Climate Conference. We were all concerned that the speculation about the leadership was doing the Party and the Government great harm. It seemed best to try to bring matters to a head and get the leadership campaign — if there was to be one — out of the way quickly. The contest had to take place within twenty-eight days of the opening of the new parliamentary session, but it was up to the leader of the Party in consultation with the Chairman of the ‘22 to name the precise date. Accordingly, we agreed to bring forward the date for the closing of nominations to