It’s not enough, if you wanted a rare interview with Lady T, just to cosy up to her. This would only, in the parlance of formal logic, be a necessary but not sufficient condition. So first I took her out to lunch — at Scott’s. As we entered the restaurant, I observed to Lady T: ‘I am sorry there are so many men!’
‘But you seem to forget that I spent a lot of time in Parliament,’ she retorted, quick as a flash.
It was a jolly lunch. Lady T had a wonderful appetite and finished all three of her courses and a large coffee. We talked about a lot of things, including The Spectator. When we got up to leave, every table applauded spontaneously. It was an affectionate gesture that filled the room and the great lady with considerable warmth.
But after the cosy lunch, I still had to convince her office about my requested interview. I had written what I regarded as persuasive a request as I could. Lady T had not given an interview for over five years. Thankfully, an old friend put in an extra good word and providence proved kind, and confirmation of my interview (for a recently aired Radio 4 programme) came through. I was very chuffed that the sufficient condition obtained.
Essentially, I wanted to find out if Lady T had any regret over handing Hong Kong back. I remember a lunch I gave her at my house in Hong Kong just before the hand-over. Jacob Rees-Mogg, the precocious son of William, was a guest. He questioned Lady T about having to surrender Hong Kong. Lady T was particularly sensitive about any innuendos of a ‘sell-out’, and slapped Jacob down with a belligerent reply. Ten years on, at Chester Square in Lady T’s home, the ex-prime minister was a little less belligerent.
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