44 Scotland Street

doubt the whole Bertie project. Her thoughts had been dangerously seditious; perhaps it would have been better not to teach him Italian, nor the saxophone. She actively thought that, but quickly corrected herself: what a waste that would have been, what a criminal waste!

And so she had overcome those temptations – temptations of mediocrity, or ordinariness – and persisted. And now, quite unexpectedly, had come the reward: the recognition of Mr Dalyell in Valvona and Crolla.

“Did you read about him, Bertie?” she asked, her voice lowered lest Tam Dalyell hear them talking about him.

Bertie, who had been served a latte with a generous portion of chocolate sprinkled across the surface, took a sip of the creamy liquid, sucking in the chocolate froth with puckered lips.

“Don’t make that noise,” began Irene automatically, but stopped. Private noises were inevitable with children and she had read they should not be unduly inhibited. Those who were TAM DALYELL: Labour Party politician (born 1932) who was MP for West Lothian for more than 20 years before becoming MP for Linlithgow.

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Mr Dalyell’s Question

stopped from making these ordinary human noises took it out on the world later on – Irene had read that somewhere and had been impressed by the insight. It was so true, she thought.

Oppression was the preserve of the oppressed. The child who is scolded into silence makes others silent later on. It was so true, and yet it was so difficult to rid oneself of the censorious urge when it came to children. They made such a noise. They smelled.

And little boys were so brutal in their approach to the world, kicking and shoving and breaking things, just as men did; it was so tempting to subdue these little boys with rules and reproach.

“I know all about Mr Dalyell,” said Bertie, wiping the chocolate residue from his lips. “He asked a famous question.”

Irene listened to this without any great interest. Scottish politics were of no consequence to her – even Scottish politics in the Westminster context. Although she had been born in Scotland and had been educated there, her outlook transcended that background. She belonged to that sector of society which somehow did not regard itself as located anywhere in particular.

To be located, thought Irene, was to be provincial and narrow.

She was above location.

Bertie looked again in the direction of the man at the table.

Then he took another sip of his latte and turned to Irene.

“Or it’s Mr Harper,” he said.

Mr Dalyell’s Question

181

Irene looked puzzled. “Or?”

“Yes,” said Bertie, as if explaining something very simple to one who could not be expected to grasp the self- evident. “Mr Harper is the leader of the Greens. Mr Dalyell is one of the Reds. That man over there is either Mr Dalyell or Mr Harper.

It’s difficult to say, Mummy.”

Irene cast a glance over in the direction of the mysterious politician. Bertie was right: there might well be a strong resemblance between Tam Dalyell and Robin Harper, and certainly if one asked the average five-year-old to say which was which one would not expect a clear answer. But there was nothing average about Bertie, of course.

Now she was uncertain herself. It was very unsettling, really, not being sure whether one was confronted with Mr Dalyell or Mr Harper, and, really, should one find oneself in this position?

Robin Harper was younger than Mr Dalyell, who was a very senior politician, and one might be expected to distinguish on those grounds. But Mr Dalyell did not really show the years at all, and both had a rather, how should one put it, enigmatic look to them, as if they knew the answer to some important question, and we did not. And both, of course, were good men, of whom there was a very short supply.

She smiled. How was the matter to be resolved, short of asking him directly? But what would one say? “Are you, or are you not, Tam Dalyell?” sounded a bit accusing, as if there was something wrong in being Tam Dalyell. And if one were to be given a negative answer, would one proceed to say: “In that case, are you Robin Harper?” That sounded as if it was somehow second best thing to be Robin Harper, which of course it would certainly not be, at least if one were Robin Harper in the first place.

Presumably Robin Harper was quite happy about being Robin Harper. He certainly looked contented with his lot.

WEST LOTHIAN QUESTION: Raised by Tam Dalyell, an opponent of devolution for Scotland, over the issue of whether Scottish members of the Westminster parliament, after devolution, would vote on matters solely affecting England.

182

Playing with Electricity

It was Bertie who proposed a solution. “May I ask him, Mummy? May I ask him the answer to his question? If it’s Mr Dalyell, then he could give us the answer.”

Irene smiled. “Of course you may ask him, Bertie. Go and ask him what’s the answer to his famous question.”

Bertie immediately rose to his feet and approached the other table, where he stood on his toes and whispered something into the ear of the slightly surprised politician. There then ensued a brief conversation, during which Bertie nodded his head in understanding.

“Well?” pressed Irene when Bertie returned. “Who was it?”