Queening it

A week in Politics

24th May 2005

Signing on
The first thing a new MP has to do is sign on. This, like everything else at Westminster, is rather different to the usual and can only be done once the Speaker has been elected. But, until an MP has signed on, he or she, cannot be paid. More importantly, neither can his or her staff.

So, five days after the election, MPs, new and old, made their way to Westminster. Having persuaded Michael Martin to resume his role as Speaker, (convention obliges him to appear reluctant), we got down to the serious business of signing on.  This, the Speaker dictates, has to be done in strict, hierarchical order. First the Cabinet and Shadow Cabinet.  Then Ministers and Shadow Ministers. Then Privy Councillors and, finally, backbenchers.

But even backbenchers have a hierarchy. In this case it depends upon their length of service. So, somewhat to my surprise, I found myself ushered almost to the front of the long queue of MPs by a black stockinged doorkeeper when I went to sign on. Apparently, I am now a senior backbencher. I did not argue and just took my place in front of the bewigged clerk.

Taking the pledge
The clerk, as it happens, was a woman. She had a rather kindly face under the odd gray wig. Giving me a smile she handed me a copy of the Bible and asked me to raise my right hand and pledge that I would be faithful and bear true allegiance to her Majesty the Queen, her heirs and successors.  That done, she gave me a pen and asked me to sign the huge register lying on the table of the House.

As I signed my name, I felt a rush of pride. I was glad to be back and glad to be representing Stevenage again. Then the voice of another, this time male, bewigged clerk boomed out “Barbara Follett, Stevenage” and I went to the Speaker’s Chair and shook hands with the genial Michael Martin. After a few words about the election and a few kind enquiries about my husband and family it was over. I had signed on and I was an MP again.

Black Rod’s Reception
Six days later the Commons assembled again. This time to await Black Rod’s summons to attend the Queen in the House of Lord’s to hear her read out the government’s future programme of legislation.  If you want a seat on these occasions you have to get there early. So I esconced myself in my usual place on the green leather bench three rows behind the Dispatch Box.

As other MPs came in to take their places the noise level in the Chamber rose. Friends hugged and kissed. The hands of new members were shaken and much advice was given. All in all, it was more like a cocktail party than a Parliament. I rather liked it but the very senior backbencher next to me folded his arms disapprovingly and said that he did not hold with all this kissing in the Chamber.

At that moment the Prime Minister came in. He joined in the backslapping, hand shaking and kissing too. The senior backbencher next to me muttered “Heavens above, him too?” and then Black Rod banged on the door.

Up with the Lords
Parliament has 119 new members. It also has a new Serjeant at Arms. Resplendent in black knee breeches and a flowing lace jabot Major General Peter Grant Peterkin CB, OBE watched as Black Rod, equally bizarrely dressed but not quite as bizarrely named, strode into the Chamber, bowed and then demanded that “this Honourable House” follow him to the Lord’s. This we duly did.

Or rather, some of us did. There is not much room behind the bar of the House of Lords so only Cabinet and Shadow Cabinet members are guaranteed a place. As they leave the Commons Chamber  the big wigs pair up with their opposite number and walk towards the gold encrusted splendour of the Lords with their opposite number. Tony Blair with Michael Howard, Charles Clarke with David Davis.  Like the animals going into the ark, two by two.

I, and a few other backbenchers, make up the rear of the crocodile. But, once we reach the Lords I break away and wriggle through the crowd towards the front. Being small, despite the overindulgences of the election period, helps and I generally manage to get a place at the front. This year was no exception.

So, I could see Her Majesty, in her full coronation regalia, with the Duke of Edinburgh at her side, as she talked about respect and reform. I almost expected her to break into a rap and end with a high five. Perhaps someone will when the government gets down to proper business next week.

Barbara Follett MP