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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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1,801
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1/1
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Sometimes It Doesn't Pay to be Prime Minister

Summary:

Jim Hacker/Humphrey Appleby -- When the women in Jim Hacker's life aren't happy, nobody's happy.

answer to challenge to use the line "No, Sir, you ain’t seen bad yet, but it’s coming."

Work Text:

Prime Minister Jim Hacker went up to his residence after a long day filled with hostile newspaper reporters. The backbiting members of his cabinet weren’t any better. Whenever any of them came near him, he felt stabbing pains in his back.

All he wanted was a hot meal, a warm bath, and possibly a willing Humphrey (If he wasn’t still dead on his feet.). He shut the door and leaned against it. He put his head back, closed his eyes, and loosened his tie.

“Is that you, Jim?” Annie’s cheery voice called from another room.

Hacker pushed away from the door and set his briefcase on a nearby stand. “Yes, it’s me,” he called back wearily.

Annie rushed in from the bedroom with a big smile. She kissed his cheek. “How was your day?”

He hugged her. “Long.”

She patted his back. Her voice was soothing yet patronizing at the same time. “Poor baby.”

He rolled his eyes. //Yes, I wanted to be PM. Yes, I asked for all this aggravation. That doesn’t mean it’s all fun and games.// His stomach grumbling was loud enough for both of them to hear. “What’s for dinner?”

She pulled away and elbowed him. “We’re going out tonight with Lucy, remember? She’s made a special trip into the city to come and see us.”

His shoulders slumped and he tiredly rubbed his eyes. “Oh, yes.”

She walked back into the bedroom. “You do remember her boyfriend’s name, right?”

He followed and sat on the front edge of their bed. He watched her put her earrings on. He frowned, trying to remember. “Is this the sociology student? The one that she was going to do the nude sit-in with?”

She clicked her tongue between her teeth. “No, Jim. That was the last one. Don’t you pay attention when Lucy speaks to you?”

“All she does is yell. I tend to tune her out.” Hacker sat forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and his face in his hands. For once, he wanted peace and quiet, not the press that followed him around whenever he left Number 10.

“That’s partly your own fault, Jim. You….”

He didn’t want to, but he had to ignore her. He just let her voice wash over him. He loved his wife, but she had no idea what it was like to be him. Being the Minister for Administrative Affairs (and he remembered her complaining about his hours then) was a walk in the park next to being Prime Minister.

“Jim, are you paying attention?”

He looked up with a start to find her facing him. He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. I’m knackered.”

“Knackered? Is that a word the Prime Minister should use?” Annie laughed quietly and knelt behind him on the bed. She rubbed his shoulders. “I know you’re tired, but Lucy really likes this boy.”

“I’m surprised she wants to go out.” Hacker paused and waved an arm. “With all the…” His voice trailed off with a yawn.

Annie wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her chin on his shoulder. “With the circus that tends to follow you around.”

“Yes.”

She gave him a squeeze and then went back to the mirror to put the finishing touches on her hair. Her reflection smirked at him. “Lucy may not admit it, but she’s just like her father. She loves the spotlight. It’s not surprising that she has a degree in sociology but is trying to be an actor in a repertory company.”

He covered his mouth with the back of his hand to hide another yawn. “So, who is this young man, then?”

“His name’s Peter Mitchell.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. Maybe he could take a short nap before dinner. “Is he a Commie, too?”

Annie’s reflection eyed him, silently warning him to be polite when he met the boy. “I believe he’s also a Trot, but she met him in the play she’s doing.”

“Ah.”

She turned back to him and took his arm. She pulled him to his feet and straightened his tie. She grinned. “Come on, Jim. For Lucy.”

He managed a smile. “For Lucy.”

They ate in the restaurant’s private dining room with no reporters watching them. The conversation was light. The food was superb and the atmosphere quiet.

Hacker was actually comfortable for the first time that day. Lucy was being civil to him. Mitchell seemed like a nice, stable chap despite his liberal politics.

Annie patted Lucy’s hand. “You haven’t told us much about this play, dear.”

“It’s an update of the Trojan women.” Mitchell put an arm around her. “She’s great. She plays Cassandra, an American single mom.”

“Cassandra who warned the Trojans?” Annie asked. “And no one believed her?”

Mitchell inclined his head and grinned widely. “Exactly, Mrs. Hacker. I have to say it again. Lucy is great!”

Lucy blushed. “It’s only a bit part.”

Mitchell winked at her. “But important.”

Lucy gazed at Mitchell in open admiration. “Peter’s the lead.”

Mitchell waved that off and continued to focus his charm on Annie. “You should hear her American accent.”

//This is a modern play but Lucy’s Cassandra? No, a character like Cassandra. I’ve never been much of a classicist. At least Annie understands. I’ll get her or Humpy to explain it to me.// Hacker could feel himself zoning out. He really needed to pay attention. He didn’t want to give Lucy any more reason to be upset with him.

Mitchell gave Lucy a squeeze and nodded to Annie. “Do a bit for them.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Lucy protested.

Annie smiled encouragingly. “Go on, dear. We’d love to hear you.”

Like her father, Lucy couldn’t resist being the center of attention. She stood and set her chair to the side. She took a couple steps back. She planted her feet, squared her shoulders, and stared out. “No, Sir, you ain’t seen bad yet, but it’s coming.”

Lucy’s accent was terrible but neither of her parents could tell her that. Hacker jerked in his seat. He cleared his throat. “Well done, Lucy,” he lied convincingly.

“Really?” Lucy asked hopefully.

“Oh, yes. I’m sure any American would not be able to tell the difference,” Annie added.

Lucy looked at her father. “You’ve been there. You really think I could fit in?”

Hacker really hated lying to her, but he liked her not spewing venom at him. It was a nice change of pace. //How my daughter ever ended up a Commie is beyond me. I…No. This is not the time.// Besides, there was a month left of rehearsal. She was bound to get better. He did his best to sound sincere. “Yes.”

A month later, Hacker woke up in a good mood. Annie was visiting Lucy, so she could watch Lucy’s opening night. He couldn’t go because it was the new Russian ambassador’s first night in London and it wouldn’t look good if he wasn’t there to meet with him.

Entertaining the diplomat was easier than Hacker thought. All the Russian wanted to do was drink. All he wanted to talk about was drinking and Western women. He did attract quite a few of the latter.

Hacker knew the man wouldn’t always been that easy to get along with. Still, he enjoyed himself. He could still smell Appleby’s scent on the sheets.

Hacker made his way downstairs a bit later than usual. He found Appleby and Woolley waiting for him. They stood stiffly upon seeing him. He nodded to them. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

“Good morning, Prime Minister,” they chorused, but it was subdued.

Hacker went to a stand near the wall where a tray with a pot of coffee waited. He poured himself a cup and took a sip before speaking. “All right. What is the new crisis?”

Neither answered. He turned to see both of them with their hands clasped behind their back. They stared at each other and then at the floor. He sat down at his desk. “You remind me of two guilty school boys. What’s wrong? Don’t tell me we bombed somebody?”

“Nothing of that magnitude,” Appleby answered quietly.

Hacker wasn’t sure what to make of the normally verbose Appleby’s silence. “What has you two so upset? Did someone die?”

Woolley rubbed his hands together nervously. “In a sense.”

“Bernard,” Appleby hissed.

“What kind of answer is that?” Hacker leaned back in his seat and stared at them. “How long are we going to play these guessing games.”

“This has nothing to do with the nation. It’s more of a personal matter.” Appleby sighed and nodded to Woolley. “Show him, Bernard.”

Woolley bit his bottom lip and put a newspaper in front of Hacker. “I’m sure they’re wrong.”

Hacker put his glasses on. Nothing jumped out at him. “What am I looking at?”

Woolley pointed to a story halfway down the page. “This.”

Hacker took one look and slipped his glasses off in dismay. “Oh, no, and I was having such a good morning.”

“I’m sure that your daughter’s performance could not have been that bad,” Appleby offered.

“And it’s not just her they criticize, but the whole play,” Woolley added helpfully.

Hacker rubbed his chin. “That will not matter to Lucy.”

“What do you mean?”

Hacker pushed the paper away. He didn’t need to read the article to know what would happen. “She’ll say that the paper was hard on her because she’s my daughter.”

Woolley shrugged. “There could be a grain of truth in that. That editor has never been very positive towards you.”

Hacker glared at him. “Thank you, Bernard. That will be all.” He had the satisfaction of seeing Woolley gulp and rush out.

Appleby sat down across from Hacker. He gave a wry smile. “It’s only one bad review. She might not have seen it.”

Hacker laughed but there was no humor in it. “As Annie always points out, Lucy’s like me. She’s seen it.”

“We have not seen any of the other papers. I’m sure there are some positive reviews.”

Hacker didn’t answer. Lucy was going to be upset which meant Annie would be also. When the women in his life were not happy, nobody was happy. “Does the review mention Lucy’s American accent?”

“I believe so.” Appleby glanced at the paper. “Ah, yes. Horrible. Almost unintelligible. An insult to our American cousins.”

Hacker winced. “I know.” He drummed his fingers nervously over the desk top and muttered, “I should have told her.”

Appleby touched Hacker’s hand and lowered his voice to just above a whisper, “Jim, are you all right?”

Hacker was in trouble and he knew it. There was going to be no way out of it. “No, Sir, you ain’t seen bad yet, but it’s coming.”

Appleby arched an eyebrow. “What?”

Woolley tentatively stuck his head in the door. “Prime Minister, your wife and daughter are on the phone and they sound upset.”

Hacker straightened the paperweights on his desk. Then he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Might as well get it over with. Hopefully, my execution will be swift and relatively painless.”

“Yes, Prime Minister,” Woolley said solemnly and disappeared.

Appleby cleared his throat and started to stand. “I’ll leave you alone.”

“Humpy, would you stay?” Hacker asked suddenly.

Appleby nodded and resumed his seat. “Yes, Prime Minister.”