Broken Vows by Tom Bower

Lane, was an unashamed millionaire who since his election as an MP in 1976 had attached himself to Gordon Brown as an adviser on finance and industry. Both Brown and Blair had accepted hospitality in Robinson’s five homes around Europe and were grateful for his financial help in maintaining their parliamentary offices while in opposition. Neither suspected the murky source of his fortune nor knew that he had deposited millions of pounds in a secret offshore account.
    To reward his help, Blair had agreed to Brown’s demand that Robinson be appointed paymaster general, a sinecure to be used as the chancellor required. Presented by Brown as a key member of the Treasury team, Robinson assumed he had the authority to roam across Whitehall as a problem-solver. His methods were unconventional. In telephone conversations he demanded loyalty and reminded officials, ‘We’re here for a long time, so why don’t you get on with me and do it our way.’ One Treasury official muttered, ‘It’s a sad day. We’ve never previously allowed spivs to set foot inside this building.’
    Like others in Brown’s entourage (known as the ‘Hotel Group’ for enjoying the hospitality at Grosvenor House), Blair seized on Robinson’s invitation to spend part of his 1997 summer holiday at the millionaire’s neoclassical villa in Tuscany. He and his wife Cherie would then move on to a French chateau owned by a High Court judge. Theydid not conceal from their friends a fondness for life as guests of the super-rich. The only requirement for a prime minister was to be certain that his host was honest. If Blair had made any enquiries, he would have discovered that Robinson failed his own test set in 1994 about those people who ‘just by hiding money in the right places can avoid paying tax altogether’. There were other skeletons in Robinson’s career that were about to rattle Blair’s ‘pure’ image.
    Blair returned to London at the end of August 1997 in some despair. His holiday at Robinson’s Italian estate had been interrupted by an ugly spat caused by him leaving Peter Mandelson in charge of the government. Mandelson’s lofty self-portrayal as acting prime minister attracted newspaper headlines such as ‘Who’s in Charge?’ and accusations that the minister was hysterically rude. John Prescott had aggravated the problem on camera by holding a jar containing a crab next to his smirking face and addressing it as ‘Peter’. ‘Peter has let his ego run out of control,’ noted Alastair Campbell somewhat gleefully about a ‘disastrous’ summer, and temporarily stopped talking to Mandelson.
    Blair walked into 10 Downing Street fretting that after his first hundred days he was at a loss what to do. The mood has changed, he told Brian Bender. The quality of his ministers, he complained, was dire. The bad ones, his officials had already noticed, were ignored. The only ones Blair could unhesitatingly rely upon were Brown and Mandelson. They at least understood how to sell New Labour. ‘No. 10’s bright new young things have brought huge enthusiasm,’ thought Bender.
    Three days later, Princess Diana’s midnight death in Paris provided Blair with an unexpected opportunity to cure his frustration. Those hearing the news as they awoke in Britain and across much of the world on 31 August were deeply shocked by the senseless death of a beautiful icon. Many were traumatised by the pictures of the crashed car, the vigil outside the Paris hospital where Diana’s death was confirmed and the anticipated reaction after her two young boys were told the news.
    During the morning, the nation’s emotions intensified. Britons needed a leader who could express the country’s grief. Neither theQueen nor Prince Charles was prepared to speak. Blair was the natural alternative. After consulting Campbell, he composed his eulogy on a piece of paper and stood in front of the church in Trimdon, in his Sedgefield constituency. ‘She was the people’s