When Jeffrey went to Westminster
The coalition told through the eyes of Jeffrey Epstein
The year is 2010. After a stuttering election campaign the Conservative party has managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, failing to win a majority against the least charismatic Prime Minister in our post-war history.
The country is looking for leadership. But for all of his establishment pedigree, it is the puritanical streak of one David Cameron that is preventing a coalition from being formed.
Perhaps informed by his robust interest in the opposite sex, or some unpleasant memories of night-time frolicking at Eton, Cameron is refusing to give ground on his childish and unworkable manifesto commitment to investigate elite paedophile networks in Westminster.
8th of May 2010 - 30 Milbank Tower
Cameron’s top advisers gather to discuss the latest offer from the Liberal Democrats.
“Clegg’s lot have made it pretty clear to us David. Unless we agree to turn a blind eye to the ‘love that dare not speak its name’, we’ll only be able to form a minority government. We’ll never pass a budget without their help. Can’t we just go on turning a blind eye? It worked for Mrs T!”
“Look. Now I want to be clear on this. I believe in open government. Fair government. If we aren’t willing to turn over some pebbles, and see what is underneath, then how are we any different to the last lot? The policy stays.”
Later, in Cameron’s hotel room…
“I mean come on, David! I know we went in for all of that ‘compassionate society’ stuff, but we didn’t even win the election. Which, when you think about it, means we don’t have the mandate to hold an inquiry anyway. I really don’t see why you are making such a point of this when we are in scratching distance of power, when we could be getting on with introducing political instability with our unworkable austerity pledges…”
“You only went to a day school, George, you have no idea what it was like having to board. The sore bottoms, and not just from the spankings. I couldn’t sit down for my entire three years at Oxford. I promised Samantha that we’d put a stop to all of this. She’s put up with years of me waking her screaming about ‘prefects’ and pushing her out of the bed in a panic.”
Later…
‘Listen Nick we’ve done all we can on our end, but David just won’t hear it. Anything room for manoeuvre for you? Maybe a non-statutory inquiry?’
“You know I’m not the problem George. It’s Paddy. He says that ‘rumble and tumble’ goes to the irreducible core of our social democracy. That even a whiff of an investigation would be a constitutional outrage. Last time we tried to broach the topic he threatened to jump off the roof.”
Flashback…
‘Paddy no! Listen, even if we do get into bed with the Tories, there would still be room for boys in that bed too!’
“I wish it were so easy, but this David fellow is a heterosexual. The first we’ve had to put up with since Anthony Eden. Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in ilis…”
Back in the office…
“Cripes, well, sounds like there is nothing else for it, I’ll have to have a chat with ‘Mandy’. See if he can help. Hope he isn’t still too sore about that Oleg fiasco.”
No.10
Peter Mandelson, or ‘Petey Pops’ as he is known to journalists, is something of a sly dog. A chancer. A real character. You can’t help but love him. Anyway, he’s trying his best to keep the country ticking over after the country has failed to elect a government when he gets a text.
SMS: Hi P. Sry abt yacht cock-up. Cd u pls sort pedo rdblock re Cameron? Cntry b4 party, GO xxxx
Although tribally a man of the Labour party, Peter recognises how the country would suffer without proper leadership, as it negotiates its worst crisis since…the war. In need of outside help and a clean pair of hands, he turns to the best fixer that he knows. One Jeffrey Edward Epstein.
“Oh my darling Jeffrey, Jeffrey darling, I haven’t had a Cuban in weeks. It’s all just so stressful here. You couldn’t tear yourself away from your various business dealings for even a moment?”
“Ahhh you know me Petey, I gotta lot on my plate huhuhh.”
‘Oh pretty pumpkin please Jeffrey! I’ll send you anything you like, how about unpublished Treasury projections for sterling in Q3 2010? Of interest?’
“You know I never could say no to you Petie…”
Jeffrey’s driver then takes him to his private airstrip on Little St James.
“Go where you wanna go…
(and do) what you wanna do
(With) with whoever you wanna do it with, baby…”
“You don’t understand
That a girl like me can love just one man!”
“Three thousand miles, that’s how far you’ll go
And you said to me
‘Please, don’t follow…’”
After the Lolita express lands in Biggin Hill airport, Epstein wastes no time checking into a hotel, setting up a meeting with one of the key players in the Tory party at once.
“Gee, thanks for meeting me in the uhh, ‘Red Lion’ sport.”
“We’ve heard much about your thorough work on that island. Chin chin old boy. Did you know that it was Mrs Thatcher, framed behind me, who so artfully lost Geoffrey Dickens’s tawdry little dossier on paedophilia in Westminster? And this new boy, this Cameron fellow, an old Etonian no less, wants to put a stop to it all! It’s a disgrace!”
“Gee, that’s a real bummer. So he’s not into guys like most of you Brits right?”
“I’ve even tried having a fiddle with him myself, to see if the rumours were true. But they are. There was not even a flicker of excitement as my hand brushed his bottom. A heterosexual man is leading the world’s oldest political party. The Institution is in grave peril. As is the nation.”
“Man, that sure is a tricky one. Have you tried just getting him in a room and shouting at him together?
Cameron is summoned to a meeting with the 1922 committee. The mood in the room is volcanic.
“Look. I’m sure that like me, you think it is strange that the Royal Family has never commented on Lord Mountbatten’s apparent relationship with Kincora boy’s home. And, that like me, you didn’t come into politics just to cover-up elite misdeeds towards vulnerable children.”
“THAT IS PRECISELY WHY WE CAME INTO POLITICS!”
“HEAR HEAR”
Roars follow, drowning out Cameron’s speaking voice.
“Listen, listen. Listen! I want to be heard very clearly on this. I do not think it is acceptable, in a 21st century democracy, to have one specific island in the world which unaccountably practices patterns of paedophilic exploitation which are not replicated anywhere else in the world. Why is abuse so rife at our boarding schools? What on earth is going on with all of those children going missing from carehomes in London? Why do no other countries with immigration have grooming gangs? Why is our Royal Family the only one in Europe caught up in it? What on earth is going on?
“WE NEVER WOULD HAVE HAD THIS NONSENSE WITH DAVID DAVIS”
“HEAR HEAR”
“NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO UPSET THE APPLE CART.”
“HEAR HEAR”
“THE NEXT LEADER OF THE CONSERVATIVE PARTY MUST BE A BLACK WOMAN”
“HEAR HEAR”
In the corner, watching on…
“Gee, this Cameron guy just don’t quit…”
9th of May 2010 - The Tate Modern
Seeking more information, Epstein meets up with another key player – one of Britain’s most important broadcast journalists, Adam Boulton.
On the way he receives a text message from a number that he doesn’t recognise.
SMS: Jeffrey. I hear through a well-placed source that you are in town. By way of introduction I am Lionel Barber of the Financial Times. Would be good to meet up for a coffee, or diary allowing, a full lunch. Let me know ~ LB
Jeffrey puts his phone away and says hello.
“Great to meet ya Adam, uhh, thanks for coming to the Tate Modern with me and my pal. I just can’t get enough of this place!”
“Really, really great to meet you.”
“So uhhh, Adam, tell me, what do you make of these, uhh, coalition talks.”
“Well the way I see it, there’s more in common politically between Labour and the Lib Dems, but there is definitely more in common personality wise between Cameron and Clegg. Gordon, he’s an analogue man in a digital age, yeah? But listen, I just don’t know how you square that circle on spending cuts, especially on the tuition fees pledge. Really it’s a question of flexibility on policy.”
“Tuition fees? Like Sally Mae? What is this shmuck on about? Man, the journalists in this country are a total waste of time. No clue at all.”
Epstein is then on the move again, this time to talk to none other than Gordon Brown, the Prime Minister, in No.10.
“Soo, uhh, thanks for meeting with me Gordon, uhhh, Pete speaks very highly of you, y’know, uh…”
A buzzing on Jeffrey’s phone interrupts him.
SMS: Jeffrey. You may have missed my message. In London this week, can make my schedule work around you ~ LB
Jeffrey picks up his phone and puts it on silent.
“Shoot! Sorry about that Gordon. Anyway, uhh, am I right in thinking you are ready to step down if there is a coalition in place?”
“Aye, I am. If the boy is allowed to hold this inquiry there will be capital flight from the city immediately. We didn’t become Europe’s leading financial capital by investigating elite misdeeds, I can tell you that much. A lax approach to enforcement, added with some of the toughest libel laws in the world, these are the ingredients of the British economy’s success. To threaten this when we are teetering on the blink of a global recession would be grossly irresponsible.”
“Man. When you put it like that. Wow. Gordon, you’ve really got your head screwed on straight. No wonder world leaders looked to you to provide global leadership during the financial crisis. You may be making an ignominious exit from No.10, but you have earned yourself a place in History. Which, I suspect, will be kinder to you than the press of your own time.”
“Thank you Jeffrey. I appreciate your kind words.”
Jeffrey leaves No.10 and gives his old friend Peter a text. “Princess Peter, gorgeous girl, let’s meet tomorrow.” Before getting into his cab he blocks Lionel Barber’s number.
10th of May 2010 - The Churchill War Rooms
The two friends meet.
“Well Jeffrey, my darling, have you managed to crack it?”
‘You know Petey, you know I love you guys, the British. But the solution has been staring you in the face the whole time…’
“Is that right?”
“You know the trouble with this country, you let the Masons run it. They see the cattle as human, try to understand how they feel. That’s not how you rule. You think there is something wrong with..
A knock is heard at the window.
“JEFFREY. JEFFREY. IT’S ME. LIONEL BARBER. THE FINANCIAL TIMES IS A GLOBAL BRAND.”
Peter hops to his feet and rolls down the blind on the window.
“You were saying?”
“Thanks Pete. Yeah, as I was saying. The thing about Cameron, okay, Cameron doesn’t care for boys, but that doesn’t make him bad. He’s just different to you.”
“Different how?”
“Well Peter. He’s a heterosexual…”
“Yes Jeffrey, I’m well aware of that problem.”
“But that doesn’t have to be a problem, Petey, don’t you get it? Listen. I’ve got a new broad. A blonde. Early 20s. Bust is a 34C. Slim. She speaks Russian. A real dime piece. What I’m saying is, how about we fly out this David guy for a bit of face to face?”
“Well I can’t see blackmail value in that. But if you think it will help, I’ll make a call.”
11th of May, 2010 - 30 Milbank
“So you are telling me that Clegg wants to resume our negotiations, without any of our staff, on an island in the middle of the Carribean almost 5000 nautical miles away? And that unless we agree to meet him there, he will ask David Miliband to form a government with him?
“Yes. Look, I know it’s unorthodox David, but this deal is slipping away. The Cabinet Secretary has chartered you a private flight from City Airport. It’s departing in exactly one hour. Look up David.”
“It’s really now or never. For Queen and country.”
“Right. Well. If we’ve got to do it, let’s bloody well get on with it.”
Cameron is taken by police escort to London City Airport.
On the plane, waiting for him, there is a stranger.
“Pleased to meet you too. You know David, when you’ve got to make a difficult decision in life, or in business. Well it’s like my old friend Alan Dershowitz always says. You’ve gotta relax.”
“Guys like you, always running at about a thousand degrees. Here. Have a drink of this.”
A golden, summery haze descends over David Cameron.
12th of May, 2010 - London
On his return flight to London Cameron is shown a tape of his own exploits in Little St James. Suitably chastened, he is much more pliable when Clegg gives him another call.
“Well I’m so glad you are willing to drop this investigation brouhaha David.”
“Well, I don’t really feel like I had a choice in the matter, in the end.”
“I don’t think we ever do, in politics.
So. Are we in this together?”
“Together.”
And so these two strange bedfellows took up the mantle of power. With all of the responsibility that comes with it.
And the rest, as they say, is history.