Title: Work Hard and Play Harder
Characters: Bernard Woolley & people who went to Oxford, mostly
Genre: General speculation
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: foul language, mild violence, sarcasm
Summary: Bernard Woolley might let his guard down a little, while in the company of equals and subordinates and be rather bold. His fairly extreme work-life is spiced up with fairly extreme social-life. In fact, he might be *much* less sound than he desperately wishes his superiors to believe. Side-story to canon, episodes from Official Visit to Ministerial Broadcast. Includes several minor characters from the show and also his family. Reading my earlier stories "Learning New Rules" and "Generating Ideas" is a recommendation.

Civil Service is all my life, probably. High ranks are a little poker table with strange rules and strange players around it. One thing I've always loved about civil service is that you are never lonely. The social life is very good. Even after you limit your circle of friends down to those who went to Oxford, which you eventually do. However, after having spent 15 years in civil service, you realize that you always hang out with the same people. And meet exactly the same people everywhere, sometimes in slightly embarrassing situations.

Official Visit
„This is the thin end of the wedge!" a Ministry of Foreign Affairs official sniveled, after having read the letter to Bernard. Bernard knew this official quite well. Very well in fact. She was the wife of Bernard's brother-in-law.
„Yes, that is gravely embarrassing." Bernard said and took the letter from her.
„What do we do now?"
„I would not do anything, if I were you, Mary. Figuring the way out of this fiasco is way above our pay-grade." Bernard said, and rushed to the train.

Visiting provinces makes me a little depressed. Sir Frederick Stewart, also known as Jumbo, nearly squashed me on train with his larger-than-life presence. While we waited for the Minister and Sir Humphrey to contain The President of Buranda, I was playing cards in the hotel lobby with him. Sir Frederick Stewart is overall nice, even though he is just too direct... even bordering on vulgar.

„So you are a high-flier. Some people gossip, that you are this sort of lad who works very hard and plays even harder. I've even heard that you have the nicest car in the whole DAA. Nicer than your bosses', in fact." Jumbo let out a hearty laugh. „You really are a bit of a wanker, Woolley."
„I beg your pardon?" Bernard frowned. He was, of course, used to being called names, but...
„Oh, that was not an insult, I'm just pulling your leg, boy." Jumbo lit up a cigar. „I am rather intrigued to ask, do you have career aspirations other than the acquisition of sportscars?"
„No, not really." Bernard gave him an innocent blank look.
„I must say, you have an excellent sense of humour." Jumbo said.

Economy Drive
Finally, peace and quiet. On top floor of a modern apartment building in central London, Bernard sat alone in a closed terrace, drinking Scotch. It was raining heavily outside. He was on the verge of tears.

I bought this apartment a few months ago. I was fantasizing about it obsessively, while doing my previous job, really. Back in the day, buying it seemed hopeless. Although, in the light of today's events, I'm starting to have heretic thoughts that my old job as the head of the procurement division was a lot more fun. The agony of choice... „Economy begins at home, says Jim!" Well, I wish he would tell this to my wife! That would be very funny. What an appalling situation! It is as if everyone was making rather cruel and unusual fun at my expense. It started off quite badly yesterday morning. There was this hilarious article in the newspaper and Hacker got his panties in a bunch. Then Weasel started hitting on my secretary Mandy. That kind of pissed me off... sending that schmuck to this ferreting trip was all my pleasure. In the afternoon, Sir Humphrey took an authoritarian decision to send my staff on a short vacation, in the context of teaching the Minister a further lesson. Rather extreme, if you ask me. Only my assistant Lloyd and Mandy were supposed to stay helping me. Today in the morning, another kicker: Lloyd called in sick. It was just too evident that it was a self-induced sickness from too much alcohol. So... today I was doing typing of all things. Typing?! Me?! This is just so wrong on so many levels, that words fail to describe it. Weasel started making fun of me. In the end of the day, I do not know, what possessed me, I was kind of stressed out... I asked Mandy for a dinner and guess what? She turned me down. Seriously? The last time this kind of humiliation fell upon me, I was a schoolboy. If she prefers Weasel over me, then this is „the thin end of the wedge" as the saying goes.

Suddenly the phone rang. It was Mrs. Hacker, asking Bernard to drive her home from the city.
„You won't go there! Only over my dead body!" his wife Catherine yelled at him.
„But she's the Minister's wife! I must help her out!" Bernard said.
„You're such a doormat!" Catherine said. Bernard ignored her. He picked Mrs. Hacker up and drove her home and she invited him in for a tea.
„Oh Bernard, you are so adorable! Your wife must feel really blessed to have you." Mrs. Hacker said.
„Well, Mrs. Hacker, this may not sum up the situation entirely correctly." He stayed there, keeping company to Mrs. Hacker till 2 AM.

Being flexible is my job, right...?

Big Brother
Department of Administrative Affairs is a strange place. When I took up this job, Tom Sargent was the Minister. He was rather clueless about everything and usually just did what Sir Humphrey advised and everything was very peaceful and quiet. I could freely have long lunches and play billiards. Although, for some reason he was very passionate about the National Database. Now this old trash has apparently resurfaced. James Hacker is a very different Minister. Full of ideas and energy. However, his rather nuanced sense of understanding, what such simple English words as „yes" and „no" mean, makes my job very complicated. His announcement on the television was, in fact, very smooth. Perhaps he has more gamesmanship in him, than I initially gave him credit for? Sir Humphrey seems to be angry with me and I have absolutely no clue what did I do wrong. By the way, I had lunch with Charles, the Principal Private Secretary to the Minister of Defence. We were good colleagues, when I was in MoD. I spoke about this girl Mandy with great potential and expressed my grave regrets I have no vacancies to promote her. He agreed to give her a better job in MoD. Perfect. I can get this humiliation out of my sight in a gentlemanly manner. Besides, Weasel will no longer have options to moon over her. I must figure out something to get even with this annoying little schmuck.

Writing on the Wall
Bernard took tranquillizers, which had been prescribed to his wife, and poured these down with vodka. Despite her doctor's regular warnings, Catherine never actually took her medicine, so those just always lay idle.

CRIKEY! Well, now THAT was a close shave today. PHEW. I was seriously panicking about the fate of DAA and my career... the situation was even more hellish than what happened while I worked in MoD. Cannot tell a word about this to Catherine. Although nothing happened, the mere thought of Swansea will drive her psychotic. Although, must admit, what I am doing right now is not entirely sound either.

Right to Know
Crikey. I think I just proved myself being hopelessly incompetent for doing this job. I asked some clarifications and Sir Humphrey got very upset with me. His yelling was extremely unpleasant. Though, I think I got his point and it is somewhat starting to make sense to me, what is expected in general management.

Bernard played squash with his assistant Lloyd. Doing this after work served as a good way for stress reduction.
„So, the Minister's daughter got naked in the street. Is she hot?" Lloyd asked and snickered.
„She did not really get naked, as far as I know. But I suggest you'd drop this topic and never mention it again, for your own sake, as this is highly embarrassing." Bernard said with a slight smirk.
„I was only joking, don't be such a bore, Woolley!"
„I only said it, so you could defend yourself from yourself."

On Friday night, I went to a restaurant with other Principal Private Secretaries, to celebrate the birthday of Charles, my friend from MoD. Everybody who is somebody wants to visit the same places on Friday night in London, alas. Apparently our big bosses were having some party of their own in the same restaurant. Charles, a hot-headed chap, was quite pissed and started complaining, that the Permanent Secretary to the Ministry of Defence is a real jerk. While he's right in principle, I advised him not to say such awful things. Then I went to the toilet and when I returned... oh man... Charles had gone to his boss and started picking a fight.

„Look, man, I'll get you a taxi, go home and sleep off!" Bernard pleaded to his friend.
„Shut up, Woolley, and mind your own crap!" Charles growled. The Permanent Secretaries were laughing at them. Bernard was feeling very desperate. He acted upon the only idea he had: dragged his friend behind the corner and knocked him out with a punch in the face.

If he'll remember anything about this evening, then he'll be thankful for this...

Jobs for the Boys
„Lloyd, book one-way ticket for Weasel... as far as possible and effective immediately! Buy him a fancy leaving gift. Through a strange, but favourable twist in fate, we are rid of that schmuck, as he just screwed himself majorly with his ridiculous quango paper and the Minister sent him away!" Bernard said, laughing.
„That's great news... where do I send him?" his assistant said.
„Use your creativity."
„But we didn't really get even with that schmuck, come to think of it..."
„Not as such, Lloyd, but as we are gentlemen, we always ought to be kind to stupid people who are incapable of defending themselves from themselves and have given themselves a solid footkick into the bridges."
„Alright, but in the other news, what happened to the Solihull project?"
„Well, I do not know much about this one in particular, as I never worked on it, but you know how things are here. If I might be so bold, then I quote the very vulgar, but nonetheless golden words of our previous Minister Tom Sargent: „Sometimes projects get fucked, then they get unfucked, then they get fucked again"."

Using foul language was acceptable up to a certain degree in my old job. Sometimes I miss it.

Bernard continued: „It's starting to look like our renovations debacle was not some one-time occurrence, Appleby's track-record in project management might be quite awful, in fact. But so you could defend yourself from yourself, you have no permission to gossip about it."

Compassionate Society
My elder son wrote us a letter from school that he wants to become a psychiatrist of all things, when he grows up. It was funny in my opinion, kids are kids and it simply will not happen, but Catherine got herself into a fit of rage. It was pretty awful. She was ranting till 4 AM. That's when I got fed up with it and started yelling back. Then I grew very embarrassed, excused myself and went to DAA. I fell asleep on a couch. Sir Humphrey woke me up at around 7 AM, saying I better get to working if I am already there. The level of insanity got one more twist in DAA today, alas. The Minister got himself worked up even more than usually over the St. Edwards Hospital. He's trying a little too hard, I think. I've entertained some thoughts of subtly pointing him into the right direction. Let's see, what happens.

Doing the Honours
„This is outrage! This is blasphemy! The Minister is a complete arse! What should I do, Woolley?" James, the head of procurement division angsted.
„Accomplishing savings of 5% is not too difficult, but I suggested you as my successor with an assumption, that you are capable of figuring such trivialities out on your own..." Bernard said with a slight smirk. The gambit had stirred up more controversy than he had expected.
„Yes, but a little hint perhaps?" James said.
„Alright man, no need to fuss too much, you are not in the Honour's list..."

Command-and-control works in a rather special way in civil service. It probably takes being a civil servant to be able to fully comprehend and appreciate this. So I pointed the Minister into the right direction. Alright, maybe this idea was heretic in the first place, but I did it to test the waters mostly, I guess. To see how much I can get away with. No particular motivation other than that. But I must admit, the hell that broke loose was much more spectacular than I had expected and quite honestly... it was fun. Apparently, The Cabinet Secretary got cross with Sir Humphrey and held him responsible for killing this initiative. I've also been thinking to suggest to my wife, that she'd make a 5% cut in her shopping, but with full honesty, I don't have balls for this. I'm not a doormat. Am I? Actually gave her even more money, that she'd buy us new clothes for the honours party. Not that there is anything in it for us, but I love this party. Must confess, when I was freshly made the Principal Private Secretary and went there with my ravishingly beautiful wife, dressed like dolls, this turned the heads of my friends and foes alike. This party is always a huge egotrip. Not that I'll ever admit this guilty pleasure to anybody.

Death List
These things just need to happen from time to time. Went to a little boys night out with George, Lloyd and some other chaps we went to Oxford with. Went to bars and bumped into some Cambridge schmucks of MI-5, which quite predictably, like always, escalated into a pissing contest, so to speak.

„Look, Woolley, the whole society would benefit, if your Minister were to be chopped off. Defending him is a waste of public resources!"

I clearly and obviously had no alternatives, other than decking the guy in the face for saying such thing.

Greasy Pole
I've met many awfully direct project managers and usually we could reach an understanding, but, Gosh, that Sir Wally McFarlane schmuck is... bordering on vulgar! Some people just do not understand the principles of tactful negotiations, I guess. So much crap was pulled on The Minister, he became awfully desperate and I started feeling quite bad for him.

Devil You Know
Hung around in Brussels. Ugly and dirty little town. Got myself elegantly wasted with some heretics. Those independent thinking people, who had decent civil service jobs, but decided to take u-turns in their careers and became eurobureaucrats. Perhaps they were possessed by evil spirits. They have neat salaries, but extremely boring jobs. For some reason I cannot fully comprehend, Sir Humphrey got disproportionately cross with me over speaking to the heretics. Yelled at me worse than ever in a hotel lobby, of all places. Quite frankly, I wanted to die that very moment, it was so humiliating. I said that I have no intention of becoming eurobureaucrat, as these people are obsolete in London, besides, if I only cared about salary, I'd just damn well get a job in The City. Unfortunately, that did not... fully sedate him. Then I suggested to leave this theatre until we are in the office, as he was quite honestly making himself look inadequate. He still did not get the point. Then I resorted to escaping at the first opportunity. It was a complete non-event, why this farce? What did I do so wrong anyway to deserve such treatment, degrading beyond any sensibility, really just beats me this time.

Quality of Life
Most evenings right after work, Bernard played tennis with his brother-in-law George. He thought he'd have no quality of life whatsoever without sports. Occastionally, George's boss Sir Frank also visited the tennis club. While normally ignoring George, one evening he quite unexpectedly requested George to play with him. This type of games always followed a certain script: never beat anyone, who's higher in hierarchy. George, being a good player, struggled hard to lose it. After the game, Sir Frank decided to humour Bernard as well, with some provoking conversation.
„I've always been intrigued to ask, Woolley, why didn't you join The Treasury in the beginning of your career? Surely, your father-in-law must have suggested this. I've heard that you are quite dumb, but then again – I know for a fact that George is very dumb, but that did not stop him from trying." Sir Frank said with a big grin.
„Well, MoD was, what really inspired me at that time, besides my intellectual capabilities were good enough for them, Sir Frank." Bernard replied politely.
„Yes... the intellectual standards of MoD are notorious of course, DAA is the only place which can beat them. Funnily enough a strange twist in fate made you an administrator and this is where you found the full outlet for your talentlessness." He laughed at his joke.
„I'm not sure my comprehensive capabilities are any match for your wit, Sir Frank." Bernard said.
„Do not pay attention to this." George said to Bernard. „He's a big provocateur, but not really a bad chap. Besides, everybody knows that had my dad not given him a chance to let his supreme brightness shine, he'd not be a player. He'd be just some schmuck who talks too much."
„No big deal, insults are part of the game." Bernard shrugged.
„Oh, don't tell me, Bernard, that you are actually still pissed off that your division went under DAA...?"
„Uhuh... ahem... George, don't be ridiculous... one must play with the cards dealt to him."

Question of Loyalty
„So, I heard from Catherine, that there was another disgraceful spectacle in DAA with the PM himself getting his panties in a bunch and everything... I'm curious to ask, have you reached any conclusion to your dilemma of the Minister and Permanent Secretary being pain with their non-stop bickering?" George asked with a smirk. They were playing golf this time.
„Funny that you ask such question. I'm telling you the same thing I told Catherine actually: in the end there is not much to this one way or another. My family is who I am ultimately loyal to and I expect the same in return." Bernard said.
„Sound man. But changing the subject completely – assuming that MoD is gone for you forever, have you figured out corrections to your career plans?" George asked.
„That one's more difficult... but something just needs to come up, I guess."
„Yes, well, strangely enough this rather chaotic career strategy seems to be working in your case." George laughed. „Or more precisely, you make it work."
„What about yourself – still having your eyes firmly set on taking over The Treasury one day?" Bernard asked.
„But of course." George replied.

Equal Opportunities
My wife's extremely ambitious. She's been a head of division in The Bank of England for past 4 years. Her wet dream is, of course, running the whole place. Not that she is over-optimistic without caution, but she really is the one, who has taught to me that whatever happens, never ever lose courage. But in DAA, we are short-staffed on temporary secretaries, you know. I spoke about it with my assistant and we came up with a cunning plan, which is a win-win for everybody. For 45 minutes, I was patiently listening to Sir Humphrey's rant. Not that he used any bad words, not his style, but he was really quite upset over Mrs. Harrisson's curveball. But eventually he calmed down and signed my little project without going into detail.

„Bringing more chicks into DAA is an awesome idea, if you ask me, a real stroke of genius from Hacker's side! The cleverest thing he has ever come up with! But alas..." Lloyd said. „I am so sad that Mrs. Harrisson left." He sniffed.
„Actually, it's yes and no. I've told you what the rules are: chicks within higher ranks are off limits... no matter what." Bernard said.

In principle, I could chase her now, as she no longer is a civil servant.

„However, Lloyd, I have some great news! I want you to put up an advertisement that we are hiring 10 new temporary secretaries. And I want you to filter through their résumés and invite only those chicks, who are... you know... sound."
„This is so awesome, Woolley."

So. This week we interviewed 20 candidates. Not that the soundest ones are impressed with the salary DAA can offer, but my job-satisfaction has somewhat improved, at least for now.

Challenge
When Sir Humphrey goes having lunch with The Cabinet Secretary, there is usually some new cunning scheme invented, which means that I have to work till midnight in extreme cases. One the other hand, while he's away, I am free to play billiards for about 3 hours.

Lloyd said with a snicker: „I was teasing Dr. Cartwright with some gentle jokes, but he did not understand and took everything literally... he's that kind of a chap who is a complete moron in everything that falls outside his narrow speciality. Not a very fun chap."
„Who cares, Lloyd? He's that kind of a not very fun chap, who'll never be a player. No need to bother with him, or he develops ill-placed sense of self-importance." Bernard said.
„Alright, I see your point, but I would have really expected you to say that he's that kind of a not very fun chap, that places The Minister into a situation, where he needs to be defended from himself."
„Sigh... that might seem somewhat hopeless, as I am starting to suspect that when the concept of defending oneself from oneself was discussed, then The Right Honourable James Hacker MP was obviously sleeping on the back benches."

Skeleton in the Cupboard
„Really, Catherine, my brain hurts. I'm telling this to you in complete and absolute confidence, noone should hear about this, no gossiping... I do not even know, how to put this politely... but it might appear so that Appleby's talents do not exactly lie in project management. I am surely not the sharpest knife, but I would have never committed such a foolish mistake... I honestly would laugh, if it were not so pathetic... this fiasco was SO stupid I wanted to shoot myself for the sheer stupidity of it. Coincidentally, a strange and disturbing thought occurred to me, that maybe Appleby's not that infallible."
„Oh shut up. This speculation gets you nowhere." Catherine rolled her eyes.
„Listen to me for once! I stayed at work till 11 PM to make sense, whether this is embarrassing or compromising. I found out that this is one of those unfortunate special cases, which are not compromising, as no technical violations of procedural rules were involved as such, but might get him fired nonetheless, if ever came out. So this is a sub-category of very gravely embarrassing, which I from now on shall call omega-level embarrassing!"
„I assume you feel a lot better now."
„Yes."

Moral Dimension
Bernard was sitting in his study late at night and shivering, even though it was nicely warm.

Brilliant, Woolley, flipping brilliant! Many people say that throughout my career I have had more luck than I could ever deserve and they are right. Crikey... I was a mere inch away from following the path of my first boss in MoD, which leads to a humiliating axing with a major scandal all over London. I have been way too proud in my belief that I am capable of defending myself from myself. Be it as it might, what happened in Qumran, never truly happened. I've refused to meet Mrs. Hacker outside of the official context in London. Things got very humiliating, when she discovered, that I had started a new affair. She acted more jealous than my wife has ever acted. Gosh... the worst thing was that blasted vase. I've already had more trouble from this lady than I bargained for. I'm feeling a little sick right now. What I did with the vase essentially is... sigh... compromising. Me of all people committing... technical violations of procedural rules. No excuse for this, nothing whatsoever. It was just sheer stroke of blind dumb luck that this crisis got a new twist, which killed it to death before it got anywhere and saved my sorry butt. Otherwise... I do not want to think about it.

Bed of Nails
Got one rather unusual request from Sir Humphrey, which beats my job-description by a large margin. On Saturday evening, our in-laws came to our place and we started drinking. George has squirmed for two months already over his hopes of being promoted to a Deputy Secretary. I see no obstacles to this, as Sir Frank owes big time to his father. Then Sir Humphrey called me and told me to pick him up from the theatre and drive him home. Not that I am unhelpful, but I was sort of... not in a proper condition to drive a longer distance. However, with full honesty, I did not have balls to send him to hell. Also, I had a bad feeling, that he's itching to make theatre again and therefore should be defended from himself and not be allowed to make it while actually in theatre, or he becomes a laughing-stock. So I figured, risking a car accident is lesser of two evils. He appeared very depressed and started complaining that Sir Arnold was being „a bitch" again (alright, I nearly crashed my car when I heard him saying such thing), just like during this DAA buildings renovation debacle. It's perhaps because I'm not as bright as him, but I was not able to follow his trail of thought entirely, I'm afraid. At least in my case, curveballs are thrown at me every single day, frequently by himself... so what, it's not always such a big deal to get upset about. Then the conversation got more interesting. He sort of implied, that his career is standing still and not advancing. I was finally starting to get the point, that the only position he can advance to is occupied by his best buddy. Certainly not an enviable situation and I hope I'll never find myself in it. I said the only thing I could figure out: some opportunity just comes up out of thin air, because they simply must and always do! It didn't make him any happier, but what can I do, this is the only career strategy, I have ever been able to formulate, really. Although... now that this topic is suddenly on the table again, the truth is, my own career is also standing still and not advancing! Crikey!

Whisky Priest
This is just so odd. The Minister asked that Catherine and I would come to their place for a dinner. I'm just an underling. Why invite us, seriously? But I did not have balls to refuse, really. It was deeply humiliating. The Minister drank a lot and was in a jovial mood. Mrs. Hacker got quite snappy and started making fun on me. Oh Gosh... I almost never get angry with ladies, this is simply not what gentlemen do, but she was really pushing me. She posed a „very clever" question: do I end up as a moral vacuum, the way Sir Humphrey Appleby is? With all due respect... for everything I've ever learned, this is not appropriate for dinner table discussion. My wife nearly choked on this. Mrs. Hacker is not exactly a saint in the first place, to pass moral judgement over me. The only time throughout my career, when I have almost committed compromising acts... it was only because of her. I replied with a quote from the Greek New Testament, but put into English for her favour, as she has no education: let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone. She blushed heavily and was looking for words. For a moment I was mortified, that now she drops some nasty bomb that ruins the lives of all four of us. And let's face it, somehow everything would end up being my fault, because it always does. She already opened her mouth and I shivered, but through a sheer stroke of luck, The Minister, who most fortunately was clueless about the subtext, interrupted. He started a nasty rant over Sir Humphrey and the recent events in DAA. Equally inappropriate for a dinner table, but this time I could only feel thankful to the old fool. Somehow I need to return the favour in a subtle manner, I guess. We left shortly after that and went to George's place.

„Ah, my husband just wants to please everybody. What a ghastly dinner it was, what a shame we could not leave earlier. Bernard's Minister drinks like a horse and his wife is an awful woman with no table manners." Catherine remarked drily to her brother.

Middle-Class Rip-Off
Probably zoned out and started daydreaming. The debate was really boring. Somehow subsidizing sex entered discussion and I showed perhaps inappropriate enthousiasm about it. Crikey. My bosses were not too impressed by my insight. I got this sort of looks, one should reasonably assume to get only if he's shagging strippers on-stage. Why do I even think such thoughts? It was also Lloyd's birthday. Chaps thought that I am right and sex should be subsidized. As a complete coincidende, the night ended in a stripclub. Not that I frequent such establishments, of course. Gosh, but perhaps it's true that I'm quite a... wanker and not entirely sound? Gosh. I do not even know how, but I pulled myself together for the day after and gave a bolder try to defending The Minister from himself. Unbelievable, but this time I could eventually make it work and he took a clue to be a little more creative negotiator.

Party Games
I made an off-hand prediction a while ago that some opportunity will just materialize out of thin air. Well, well, well, strange and disturbing things started happening again when Sir Humphrey moved up and became the Cabinet Secretary. Being de facto in charge of DAA for a short period was truly the happiest time of my entire life. It was reasonable to assume that I can keep this position, as there were no real competitiors, but apparently I managed to do something – and I do not even have much clue what – that majorly pissed him off. I was invited to The Cabinet Office. Sir Humphrey was acting very aggressively even by his standards. Throughout the whole conversation I was having strange and disturbing thoughts that, hypothetically, if a gentleman were to be punched in the face then he clearly has no alternatives other than punching back.

„BERRNARRRDDD. I should have told this to you about 30 times: a department is NOT run the same way a division is. These things have nothing in common, in fact. If you keep up with your silly little middle-manager antics, then you make a laughing-stock out of... yourself."
„But, Sir Humphrey, I do not understand you. I have done everything you have told me to do and the Minister has been kept on a short leash – no outrageous initiatives or anything." Bernard squeaked.
„Oh, my dear Bernard... you really are a moron. It appears so, that you are not the least sound and in your case this is simply hopeless. I put so much efforts into coaching you, but you learned nothing! Not a thing. You're just getting... more and more impudent with me! May I remind you that I created you? If I had not promoted you, you'd be a virtual nobody. Although, I'm starting to regret ever promoting you! You are such a bad boy!"
„Oh please! Whatever I did wrong, Sir Humphrey, please just tell me and I shall fix it!" Bernard was getting desperate.

I did not get any smarter after this nearly direct conversation. Only got more insults. Went to a party in The Bank of England later. For the first time, people were actually speaking to me and referring to me by my name, not as the husband of Mrs. Woolley. Also met Sir Frederick Stewart, whom I had not met for a while, as he had retired last year.

„Listen, you silly little Woolley boy, I'm saying this for your own good: you are a wanker. Personally I can respect that, as quite frankly, I also was, when I was younger." Jumbo said.
„Thanks, I guess..." Bernard said.
„But I strongly suggest you to back down and not to take your gambles any further this time, or some people might start reflecting on your soundness. You see, Woolley, should you try flying too high, you'll be set up for a painful fall."
„Aa."

Slow as I am, I too finally started seeing the light. There was silence for a while. The next time I saw my former boss, he was nice to me again. He was with Sir Arnold and they had come up with a spectacularly strange and disturbing scheme.

„I don't know, Lloyd... the idea of making Hacker the PM is just so stupid, I'm having suspicions that it's a ploy to make me screw myself up so badly that I am forced to resign."
„Maybe you have started developing paranoia, Woolley?" Lloyd said. „The Oxford Gentlemen generally should not do such things to other Oxford Gentlemen. Or if it were truly a ploy to get rid of you, perhaps they would not have invented anything so obviously retarded?"
„Good point. If this is serious and I push this through, then I have hopes of gaining favour again, of course... but you ought to know one thing, Lloyd: in case I screw this one up, I'll resign indeed. And do the unthinkable: step through The Revolving Door. Make some screw-you-cash in banking or big oil or something. Or if lifetime in civil service has lobotomized me completely, then I become eurobureaucrat. Making an extended trip to the countryside, where chicks are fat and uneducated and you need a tractor for driving is not really an option for the civil service ex-high-flyer."
„Don't be such a pessimist, you'll figure something out, man! Some wonderful opportunity just comes up, they always do!"

Grand Design
Bought myself a new car to celebrate my new job. I suggested Lloyd as my successor in DAA. I assumed that Sir Humphrey will give a big battle over this, but strangely enough, the contrary happened.

„Lloyd Prichard: incompetent and intemperate thoroughly useless bubblehead, who cannot tell his knee from his elbow, but has one special distinguishing talent: a sixth sense for gossip. Excellent, Bernard! Couldn't have thought of a sounder man myself!" Sir Humphrey said and signed the proposal.

Went on a short vacation before starting in No 10. Wrong move. Planned going to Italy, but the night before, my wife got hysterical and pointed a loaded gun to my forehead. Not sure, what is less sound – that she actually did this thing or that I started laughing and dared her to pull the trigger. Sent her to a sanatory, so she could recover and be defended from herself under appropriate care. First day home alone, I hung around in pyjamas and drank all day. It was fun. On the second day, drove around in my new baby. Got bored quickly, as all my friends were at work. On the third day I was already quite desperate and went to see, how Lloyd was coping with his new responsibilities.

„While distinguishing between right and wrong is important in principle, then in doing this job, you virtually never encounter anything that is right. In practise, what is far more important, is distinguishing between different kinds of wrongs. First – there is compromising. Everything that includes technical violations of rules, is absolutely out of the question. Do not ever go there, no matter what, no matter how small violation. Second, there is also embarrassing. But you may soon find out that there are many subcategories of embarrassing, such as: very slightly embarrassing, slightly embarrassing, embarrassing, gravely embarrassing and very gravely embarrassing. There are also subsubcategories, but we will not go into that much detail this time. Doing very slightly embarrassing and slightly embarrassing is negotiable. Doing embarrassing depends on the risk-return calculation. Doing gravely embarrassing is discouraged, but if you must, then hide all evidence. Doing very gravely embarrassing is strongly discouraged, as while not compromising, may get you fired nonetheless." Bernard said.
„Oh for cripes sake, I'm not smart enough for your groovy algorithm! But what goes under very gravely embarrassing?" Lloyd asked.
„Above all – shagging wrong broads and displaying supreme incompetence. Also, in your case specifically, gossiping about the wrong people, but you probably already learned it the hard way."
"Really... funny that you mention gossiping about the wrong people, because the new Permanent Secretary, who was sent here from The Ministry of Education, is the most incompetent schmuck ever seen in The Commonwealth. He is that sort of a fellow, who makes Ministers look smart in comparison. It is that bad." Lloyd said.
"Be kind, for everybody you meet is fighting a hard battle."

In the evening of the third day I was already going mad from silence and inactivity. Lack of adrenaline, if you insist. In the morning of the fourth day, called to Sir Humphrey and inquired, whether there's some crisis, which would require my earlier start of work. He appeared very amused and declined at first, probably just for the sake of proving that he can, but eventually gave in. So I went to work to No 10 and remembered why I abhor vacations. Things got quite a strange twist, as we went to MoD shortly after. Oh memories, sweet memories! Sigh... I had an opportunity to educate the Prime Minister on the realities of MoD procurements very thoroughly. Not that he understood much, but I felt quite bright while doing this. Then in the evening went to a reception, where I met some rather decent ladies.

Ministerial Broadcast
On Friday evening I had a little boys night out with Lloyd and a couple of chaps from MoD. We got pretty pissed. On Saturday morning my wife woke me up at around 10 AM. I had to drive her to a shopping trip. We spent around 6 hours going through boutiques. Then I went playing tennis with George. After that we met with our wives and went to a restaurant. On Sunday, we all went yachting. On Monday, that is today, I was feeling rather sick. Obviously, the Prime Minister had a field day and let all his talents, or more precisely, the absence of them, truly shine on the televison. Business as usual. Crikey... this job is almost exactly like my previous job, except that in No 10 I have no friends around to lunch with. The major positive sides are salary and getting some of the best tables in top-notch restaurants. And some people have started greeting me, as if I actually were a somebody... player... sound.

FIN.