Has Nick Clegg seen a ghost? The pallor of the Lib Dem leader continues to excite comment in Westminster. At Monday’s half-time presentation by the coalition, he was looking as anaemic as a jellyfish. ‘Either he’s lost four pints of blood or he’s been given his latest polling figures,’ said one hack. A friendly spin doctor explained the mystery. The Prime Minister, standing beside Clegg, had meticulously plastered his face with a thick coating of bronzed grease before coming out on to the podium. And his sun-lounger look made Clegg’s au naturel complexion appear even more washed out than usual.
James Harding, the ousted Times editor, left with a £1.3 million payoff in his pocket and the praise of Fleet Street ringing in his ears. But why did he go? A chap who polishes the executives’ shoes at News International tells me that just before the hacking scandal blew up, Rupert Murdoch was planning major changes at the Times. He’d decided to pull the newspaper out of the Press Complaints Commission, just as Richard Desmond had done with the Express. Then he’d pull it out of the Audit Bureau of Circulations, which he felt didn’t reflect the new digital world. And he’d put an end to its softish editorial line, directed by George Osborne’s close friend Danny Finkelstein.
Murdoch, my mole tells me, concluded a while ago that Cameron bends to pressure — so he wanted the Times to pile on the pressure, as the Sun has done. Instead, to his dismay, it has acted like a propagandist for the taxman — understandably, given Finkelstein’s role as unofficial chief adviser to the Chancellor. All this was interrupted by the Leveson inquiry, but Murdoch — like the papacy — thinks in decades rather than years. The Dirty Digger may be about to resume Plan A.
Strange days for London’s Catholic community. Worshippers in the provinces have long been puzzled by talk of ‘gay masses’ being held at Warwick Street in Soho. But it’s true. The Archdiocese of Westminster has a large community of lesbian, gay and transgender Catholics. They apparently observe the sacred teachings of the Roman church. They solemnly accept its strict rulings on celibacy outside marriage. And they know that to receive Holy Communion with an unconfessed sin on their consciences (e.g. wearing purple sequins with a turquoise frock) would earn them eternal hellfire.
This is about to change, however. Archbishop Vincent Nichols, the church’s ambitious leader, has announced the cancellation of so-called gay masses in Soho. The Vatican will be delighted by this affirmation of its conservative agenda and there are rumours that the pushy prelate will receive a cardinal’s hat, no less, as his reward. Dig a bit deeper, though, and a different picture emerges. The Jesuit stronghold of Farm Street in Mayfair is to hold special masses for gay and lesbian congregants, and the services will include ‘pastoral care’. Meanwhile, Soho has told its flock their masses are being ‘moved but not cancelled’. Admirers of the wily archbishop tell me he’s pulled off a classic ecclesiastical dodge: appearing to bow to the Vatican while secretly subverting it. But the status of ‘gay masses’ remains unclear. Let’s hope the confusion doesn’t impede the delivery of the longed-for red hat, along with the automatic eligibility for the papacy that it brings. Friends of the archbishop insist, of course, that no such fantasy has ever entered his mind. I’m sure they’re right. The Pope, after all, is still only 85.
Sobs and ululations greeted the news that Tom Strathclyde has quit frontline politics. He led his party in the House of Lords with distinction, with dynamism, and with champagne. Backbench Tories now worry that their favourite conference bash — ‘everyone back to Tom’s room for a bath full of Bolly!’ — may be a thing of the past. Banned for years from glugging bubbly in public, MPs would repair to the annual free-for-all and sip without fear of being rapped over the knuckles by a puritanical spad. One MP is organising a whip-round for a final champagne knees-up this October. In secret, of course.
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