Phase 2:
“…the apparent crucifixion of the girl, who only gave her name as Eulalia, was stopped personally by the Minister for Culture, James Wragg…” (the television picture showed a picture of Wragg walking stiffly and awkwardly to his car). Wragg turned off the set.
“Well,” said Wragg with a smile. “That showed them, eh, Bob? Decisiveness. Leadership. Minister steps in for British women and the defence of culture. I thought that went very well, although they could have chosen a better video clip of me. Even so, 'stopped personally by the Minister'. Sounds good.”
The door opened and Sir Jollyrei Appletree, the department’s Permanent Secretary entered. The Permanent Secretary is the person in charge of the whole department and all the public servants who work there. In a relationship where the Minister is appointed by the Queen to lead on certain issues, and the Permanent Secretary is supposed to manage the workings of the department, the political and administrative interests of the government did not always line up perfectly. Wragg always thought he was being carefully managed by Sir Jolly.
“Ah, Jolly,” said Wragg. “Did you see the news? I made a firm stand for the decency of British culture.”
“I did wonder what you were doing there, Minister,” said Jolly. “Only interference in cultural events is not normally seen as the responsibility of our department or our Minister. We leave that to the Home Office, or perhaps the Church of England.”
“Well, I stopped a barbaric and sexist display,” said Wragg.
“If you say so, Minister,” said Jolly. “I only hope we can deal with the consequences and repercussions.”
“Consequences and repercussions,” said Wragg. “What could those possibly be?”
“Well,” said Bob, “for any action, there is a predictable, or perhaps unpredictable reaction.”
“Thank you, Bob,” said Wragg.
“I think what Bob means,” said Jolly, “is that in politics, and indeed in government, the reaction one gets from a seemingly innocuous action may take on a proportion that is disproportionately larger than the seemingly and apparently insignificant proportion of the original action.”
“Say that again in English,” said Wragg.
“The press is likely to overreact to this in a difficult manner,” said Jolly.
“Well, I don’t see what sort of negative impact could come out of this,” said Wragg. “I stopped a girl being crucified, Jolly, not a village Morris dance.”
“Would that we could stop Morris dances,” murmured Jolly.
“Anyway, you’ll see,” said Wragg. “I’m having the girl come here today for an interview.”
“You’re what!?” asked Jolly.
“I meant to tell you, Sir Jolly,” said Bob. “The Minister thought it would be a nice gesture to meet the girl, a Miss Eulalia, himself.”
“For what purpose?” asked Jolly.
“To let her show her gratitude. Shows I’m a man of the people. Caring. That sort of thing.”
“Do you think that’s wise?” asked Jolly
“Well,” said Bob, “I really can’t see how just meeting her will cause problems.”
"Ah, so this is to be a learning experience as well then," said Jolly drily.
The door opened again and the communications director poked his head in the door. “The girl from the park and a couple of her friends have arrived, Minister.”
“Excellent. If you don’t mind me asking, Apostate, since you’ve reviewed the media about this crucifixion in the park incident, what’s your take on it?”
“Well, Minister, I personally thought it was a bit of an obscene display.”
“Steady on, Apostate,” said Bob.
“Oh, I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” said Apostate enigmatically. “Anyway, it’s an interesting problem, from a communications angle. Not something you get every day.”
“Thank you, Apostate,” said Wragg. “ Just show them up would you?”
A few moments later, the door opened and Apostate ushered in Eulalia and two of her male friends from the park. It looked like the man with the sporran and whip, Wragg thought, as well as another fellow with a red beard. He felt a little uncomfortable, but decided it was nothing.
“Ah, young lady,” he said smiling broadly. “So good to see you again, and you’re looking fit and well after that ordeal earlier today. Might I introduce the Department Permanent Secretary, Sir Jollyrei Appletree, and my Personal Secretary, Bob Inder.
“Well,” said Eulalia in a Scottish accent and tone of voice that could have set ravens circling over castle turrets in a thunderstorm, “I still don’t know what you’re playing at.”
“I’m sorry?” said the Minister. “I meant, you know, after I came in and rescued you, from…” he looked uneasily at the large Scottish men beside her. She didn’t look like she needed rescuing from them at the moment.
“I think,” said Bob, “that the Minister is trying to express his satisfaction that you are in good health.
“We had permit, and everything,” said the large Scottish man with the beard.
“Aye,” said Eulalia, “and we weren’t doing anything wrong. It’s part of what we do. It’s not our fault that they gave us a permit for our crux event within sight of the motorway, is it?”
“Aye,” said the other man who didn’t have a whip with him, “we normally get assigned to more isolated areas.”
“Well it’s all over now,” said Wragg. “We’ll clear that up and nobody will have to get crucified.”
“But I wanted to,” said Eulalia.
“You what?” said Wragg.
“Aye, it’s a great experience. Physical, sensual, like.”
“Naked in a public park in Britain?”
“We had a permit,” said the Scottish man with the beard. He seemed to be there solely to emphasize this point.
“But why do naked crucifixions?” asked Wragg. “Surely there are other cultural and, er, sensual things that young people like you could be doing.”
“Oh,” said Eulalia, “we don’t just do crux. We sometimes do whippings.”
“Whippings,” said Wragg tentatively.
“Like this,” said the large man who suddenly did seem to have a whip. The man with the beard was bending Eulalia over a large armchair and taking down her dress.
Wragg looked stunned as the young woman’s body was bared in his office.
“Thank you very much,” said Bob, stepping in to salvage the situation. “I think we get the idea. And in any case, the Minister has to be in Parliament in 20 minutes.” He helped Eulalia pull her dress back up. He was pleased to note that her breasts were indeed of the satiny sort.
“Weel anyway,” said the large bearded man, “I just want to make it clear, y’ken, that we had a permit.”
“Oh, come now,” said Wragg. “We don’t give permits for these sorts of things. Britain is a decent civilized society. Just show me that alleged permit, would you. We’ll soon clear this up.”
The man handed the paper to Wragg. He read it. He read it again.
“Bob,” said Wragg.
“Yes, Minister.”
“Would you have a look at this?” said Wragg.
Bob read the permit as well. “Oh dear,” he said.
* * *
“I did warn you about repercussions,” said Sir Jollyrei.
“But that permit was issued by our department!” said Wragg.
“Indeed, Minister,” said Jolly. “We issue permits for all sorts of cultural activities in public spaces. Ladies Auxiliary Teas, cricket matches, Shakespeare in the park…”
“And apparently the crucifixion of naked young girls,” said Wragg.
“Culture is a very interesting thing, Minister,” said Sir Jolly. “Very hard to get a firm handle on, and even harder to regulate.”
“Well, what am I supposed to do about this?” asked Wragg. “If it gets out that my department routinely issues permits for crucifixions in the park, it’ll be a scandal. Profumo might have let things leak to the Russians, but he didn’t crucify naked girls.”
“No,” said Bob, “I think he was far too busy doing other things with them.”
“What was that, Bob?”
“Nothing, Minister,” said Bob hurriedly. “Anyway, I can’t see how this would get out. It’s a single incident. You did apologize to the girl for, er, rescuing her. I expect that’s the end of it.”
The press officer, Mr. Apostate, chose that moment to poke his head in the door. I think you’d better take a look at the telly,” he said somewhat urgently.
Bob turned on the TV. There was a rather attractive brunette in a severe, yet form fitting, lady’s suit. It was tailored to highlight the fact that she had a very nice bottom. “…and I think,” the brunette was saying, “that the British people will be interested to know that the Ministry of Culture and Sport has been issuing permits for these sexist and humiliating displays.”
“Who is that?” asked Wragg.
“Dr. Barbara Moore,” said Apostate. “She’s a visiting American sociology professor at the LSE.”
“Much more attractive than the professors I had at school,” said Sir Jolly.
“Did you go to the LSE?” asked Apostate.
“Good Lord, no!” said Sir Jolly emphatically. “Good point.”
The Minister switched off the TV. “I want options for how we respond to this,” said Wragg. “I mean, now the public knows we sponsor naked girls on crosses.”
“We do not sponsor them,” said Sir Jolly. “We do not even endorse them. The department merely issues a permit for a lawful activity in a public space.”
“Lawful?” asked Wragg.
“Technically,” said Bob, “there is no law specifically against crucifixion, because that would infringe on the rights of bondage practitioners.”
“Bondage practitioners?” asked Wragg. “You mean, people who tie each other up and whip each other, and…” he took out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead.
“Indeed,” said Sir Jolly. “We can’t be seen to intrude upon the bedrooms or recreation rooms of the nation.”
“And,” continued Bob, “if they state that it’s a cultural activity, its usually easier to issue the permit than to argue. We don’t really have the staff to spend time arguing. It would get in the way of client service.”
“Well,” said the Minister, “I think it’s high time to stop this. I agree with Professor Moore. I can be the Minister who took a stand for women and the decency of British society. I want draft legislation to ban this.
“If you say so, Minister,” said Jolly. “We will put together a dossier of the number of cultural events and their type, that were granted permits in the past year, and…”
“No, Jolly,” said the Minister. “I want a concrete proposal, with press release. I’m taking a stand and ending these permits, now.”
“I really must caution you on this, Minister, and advise against any precipitate action…” said Jolly
“Now, Jolly.”
“Very well, Minister,” said Jolly. “We shall, of course endeavour to do our best to fulfil your policies.”
“Thank you, Jolly,” said Wragg.
* * *
The Minister walked into his office the next morning feeling jaunty. In fact, he was humming a cheerful little tune. His driver followed quietly, carrying the Minister’s red boxes of documents from the evening before. Bob was already there waiting.
“Just put those on the desk, please, Jim,” said Wragg.
“Yes, Minister,” said the driver. The boxes were set down and the driver made his exit to wherever drivers go when they’re not actually driving the car or carrying something.
“Good morning, Bob,” said Wragg. “Lovely day out.”
“Er, yes, Minister,” said Bob, “I can see how you might say that…”
“Couldn’t be better,” said Wragg. “We’re ending the subsidy of useless old cathedrals, and ending the outdated cultural abuse of women. Lots of cost savings to the nation there.”
“I think the department actually made a bit of a profit from the permit fees for cultural events,” said Bob.
“And the department can still make those fees, just not from the crucifixion of naked girls,” said Wragg. He picked up the morning paper.
GOVERNMENT CUTS HERITAGE FUNDING: CATHEDRALS FACING BANKRUPTCY – or so the headline read.
“So it’s hit the papers already,” said Wragg. “Well, we must all bite the bullet when we’re faced with the firing squad.”
“I don’t think you can actually do the firing squad if someone is biting the bullet,” said Bob. “Anyway, I’m not sure whether they don’t think the government is the firing squad in this case, rather than tight budgets.”
“Good heavens!” said Wragg. “Did you read this? ‘Minister Wragg and this government have no plan for the preservation of culture and our heritage, said a spokesman for the Bishop of St. Alban’s. I suppose it’s a sign that he is consistent when he ends permits for certain types of lewd displays in public parks, but I would say that this move to cut cathedral funding is simply treating the crucifixion of our Lord like a fun and games crucifixion of a naked girl in a park. That’s just not on and I think serious questions about the Minister’s morality might be asked.”
“Good heavens!” said Wragg. “I actually move to stop crucifixions of young girls, and he still makes out that I’m immoral! You can't win in this country! What do you make of that?”
“I suspect equating the biblical crucifixion to the crucifixion of a naked girl might improve cathedral attendance,” said Bob.
“This isn’t funny, Bob,” said Wragg. “I’m being crucified in the press between a rock and a hard place.”
“I can see how that would be uncomfortable, Minister,” said Bob.
to be continued...
