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News had just come in of a surprise verdict from the High Court. Back in March, the Foreign Secretary Geoffrey Howe had ordered civil servants at GCHQ in Cheltenham to give up their union membership, arguing that it presented a conflict with the national interest. The unions had tried to overturn the ban by bringing an action in the High Court, and today, much to everyone’s surprise, the judge had ruled in their favour. He said that the government’s actions had been ‘contrary to natural justice’. The provisional front page juxtaposed pictures of Mrs Thatcher and Mr Justice Glidewell, beneath the ba
‘I think you’ll find,’ said Peter, in measured tones, ‘that this is a major news story. Spare us your thoughts on the subject, will you?’
‘I’m serious,’ said Hilary. ‘Who wants to read about a bunch of civil servants and whether they can join a union or not? I mean, big deal. On top of that, why should we run a story that’s damaging to the government?’
‘I don’t care who we damage,’ said Peter, ‘as long as it sells papers.’
‘Well you’re not going to sell many like that.’ She looked at her watch. ‘I can get you a better front page in twenty minutes. Maybe less.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I’ll write it and give you the picture.’
Hilary went back to her desk and dialled the home number of her Cambridge friend. Among the subjects they had discussed after their interview was a mutual acquaintance – another actress – who had just given birth to her third child. Her body was no longer looking its best, but this had not prevented her, apparently, from doing nude scenes for a television film to be broadcast in a few months’ time. Hilary’s friend, who happened to be living with the film’s editor, had mentioned in passing that she had access to some of the footage, which made for interesting viewing.
‘Listen, be a darling, would you, and bike some stills over?’ said Hilary. ‘We’ll have a bit of fun.’
In the meantime she sat down and typed:
IT’S BOOBS AT TEN!
Saucy BBC bosses have got a raunchy treat in store for us this autumn, with a hot new play so sexy that it won’t be screened until well after the nine o’clock watershed.
The torrid drama stars——, whose three young children will certainly be in for a surprise when they see their Mum cavorting in an outrageous three-in-a-bed romp with American heartthrob——
It didn’t take long to make up the rest. Hilary’s story dominated the next day’s front page, with the High Court’s decision relegated to a small paragraph in the bottom corner.
Later that evening, Peter Eaves took her out to di
∗
From ‘Je
PRETTY WEDDING
On Saturday afternoon I went to St Paul’s, Knights-bridge, for the marriage of Peter Eaves, the well-known newspaper editor, to Hilary Winshaw, daughter of Mr and Mrs Mortimer Winshaw. The bride looked most attractive in a lovely parchment colour silk dress, with a pearl and diamond tiara holding her tulle veil in place. Her attendants wore very pretty peach silk dresses …
The reception was held at the Savoy hotel, and came to a most spectacular conclusion. The guests were all led out on to the riverside terrace, where the groom surprised his bride with a lovely present: her own private seaplane, a four-seater, tied up in an enormous pink ribbon. The happy couple stepped inside and took off along the Thames to start their honeymoon in tremendous style.
∗
So the government has published its White Paper on the future of television, and already those moaning mi
They would have us believe that deregulation would bring us American-style television (not that there’s anything wrong with that). But the plain fact is that there’s one word which terrifies this posse of Hampstead liberals more than any other.
That word is ‘choice’.
And the reason they don’t like it? Because they know that, given the opportunity, very few of us would ‘choose’ to watch the dreary round of highbrow drama and leftwing agitprop that they would like to inflict on us.
When will these self-appointed na
Roll on, deregulation, I say, if it means more power to the viewer’s elbow and more of our favourite shows with the likes of Brucie, Noel and Tarby.∗ (∗NB subs please check these names)
Meanwhile, next time you find that the only things on the telly are one of those boring documentaries about Peruvian peasants, or some incomprehensibly ‘arty’ film (with subtitles, of course), remember that there’s always one ‘choice’ they can’t take away from us.
The choice to reach for that ‘off’ button and head down to the nearest video store!
– ‘Plain Common Sense’, November 1988
∗
‘What the hell are you watching now?’
‘Bit late, aren’t you?’
‘I’ve been working, actually.’
‘Oh, spare me.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘You are so fucking transparent, darling.’
‘What is this rubbish, anyway?’
‘I don’t know, some game show. One of those hearty, down-to-earth pieces of entertainment you’ve been extolling in your column lately.’
‘I don’t know how you can watch this crap. No wonder you’re so in tune with the brain-dead morons who read your paper. You’re not much better yourself.’
‘Do I detect a little post-coital tetchiness, by any chance?’
‘Oh, for God’s sake.’
‘I don’t know why you keep shagging Nigel if it just puts you in a bad mood.’
‘It gives you a thrill to think that, does it?’
‘It gives everyone on the paper a thrill, I should imagine, since you’re not exactly discreet about it.’
‘Well, that’s just marvellous, coming from you. I suppose getting blow-jobs from a temp, in your own office – with the bloody door open – I suppose that counts as discretion, does it?’
‘Look, do me a favour, will you? Just fuck off and die.’
∗
From Hello! magazine, March 1990
HILARY WINSHAW AND SIR PETER EAVES
Husband-and-wife team are so happy with baby Josephine but ‘our love for each other didn’t need strengthening’
Maternal love shines out of Hilary Winshaw’s eyes as she lifts her giggling, one-month-old daughter Josephine high in the air in the conservatory of the happy couple’s lovely South Kensington home. They’ve waited a long time for their first child – Hilary and Sir Peter were married almost six years ago, when they met on the newspaper which he continues to edit and for which she still writes a popular weekly column – but, as Hilary told Hello! in this exclusive interview, Josephine was well worth waiting for!
Tell us, Hilary, how did you feel when you first saw your baby daughter?
Well, exhausted, for one thing! I suppose by most people’s standards it was an easy labour but I certainly don’t intend to go through it again in a hurry! But one glimpse of Josephine and it all seemed worthwhile. It was an amazing feeling.
Had you begun to despair of ever having a child?
One never quite gives up hope, I suppose. We’d never been to see doctors or anything, which was perhaps silly of us. But when you’re with someone who feels so right for you, when two people are as happy together as Peter and I have been, then you can’t help believing that your dream will come true in the end, no matter what. We’re both a bit starry-eyed that way.