More Questions Than Answers
Lichfield Mercury Thursday November 28th, 2002
Reported by Alistair Harris, Photography by Allan Williamson
ANNE Widdecombe has just walked past.
She looks blonder, stouter and rounder than she does on Celebrity Fit Club, but there appears to be an aura of power around her nonetheless. It's 5pm, and we're sitting in a new, multi-million pound building connected to the Houses of Parliament by a nifty underground tunnel.
Sipping on a cappuccino, Michael Fabricant is explaining his views on the Lichfield constituency.
This is a welcome break from the day's hectic schedule - it's been a mad rush since we arrived at the extravagant, glass-roofed Portcullis House at 11am. We were greeted by Joanne Godwin, Michael Fabricant's secretary, who took us past the tight security and into the Thatcher Room on the second floor.
Michael and other members of the Department for Culture, Media and Sport Select Committee are sitting round a horseshoe-shaped table, shuffling papers and surreptitiously scribbling secret notes. Waiting to be 'grilled' are Tessa Jowell, Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport and others, including Kim Howells. The topic today is tourism: 'How to improve tourism in the UK as a whole.' Still not quite recovered from a journey on which we were packed sardine-like on the jostling, jolting and inevitably delayed 7.27 from Trent Valley station, we can't help feeling that improvements to the country's ailing public transport system would be a good place to start. But nobody brings this subject up. However, aware of our presence, Michael, anxious no doubt to bring tourist income to his constituency, does ask some probing questions on the Government's spending allocations.
At 1pm sharp, everyone shuffles out of the room. I was surprised that all the MPs we met that day, regardless of their political preferences, seemed to get along quite well when not toeing the party line. It's reassuring to see this sense of 'team spirit' (however contrived it may be) among the people who are, quite literally, running the country. Following the committee meeting, there's just enough time to dash back through the tunnel for a quick chat in Michael's office before the afternoon's Question Time session in the House of Commons.
After a fleeting glance around to take in his working atmosphere, I was immediately drawn to two large union flags, an American flag and a radio broadcasting kit. The latter piece of equipment a reminder of Michael's post-university days as a broadcast journalist for the BBC and his time as an entrepreneurial radio engineer. Piles of correspondence are scattered around his desk, hiding numerous House of Commons coasters. It looks a bit like a mini Parliamentary gift shop - there's even a House of Commons waste paper basket in the corner. Michael explains he is 'tabling' a question on health, ready for a debate in two weeks' time. Questions currently have to be given in, or 'tabled,' 14 days in advance, although there are moves in place to change this to three or four. He writes it up on his trusty PC, adding 'and will he give a statement?' at the end. "He'd just give me a yes or no answer otherwise," Mr Fabricant explains. "You learn that quite quickly." After 10 years as an MP, he has questions down to a fine art. Michael beams as he leans across his desk to pass me a copy of the parliamentary record, Hansard, from the day before. He explains that he asked an 'unprecedented' three questions in one sitting. Because of the number of MPs wanting to ask questions in the house, many get very little time on the floor to raise the issues that matter to their constituency. When they do, they often find that they are fobbed off, either with an unrelated answer, or with a bland and ambiguous statement. This is because any answer must not commit those giving it to fulfilling any promise. For example, if the question relates to a fiscal matter, unless Gordon Brown is answering it personally, ministers will not make any kind of spending promise or even give a guesstimated financial statistic as they will then be held accountable for the answer. This does not apply, of course, exclusively to the current cabinet.
Tabling questions is just one aspect of life at Westminster though. Michael tells me he was ranked as the country's fourth most active MP by The Times newspaper, and this is reflected by the long list of committees and groups that he sits on. He jokes that with his long hours, his £50,000 salary pans out at less than the Labour party's much-toted minimum wage. This, I suspect, is a remark which might fall a little flat among those earning considerably less. Especially as he goes on to explain that he lives in a Government-funded apartment in London during the parliamentary week (Monday - Thursday).
As the seconds tick by, we wolf down a modest lunch before ducking back along the tunnel to take our seats in the guest gallery at the House of Commons for the afternoon's questions on transport. Michael is due to ask a question on discount arrangements for locals using the new M6 Toll road. He is twelfth on the list, and doubtful that he will be allowed to get up due to his 'unbelievable' amount of questions yesterday. He does, however, get the chance to ask his question, although one seems to be totally misunderstood and deflected by the Minister for Roads, John Spellar. Following Michael's questions, it was good to see Tamworth MP Brian Jenkins and Cannock Chase MP Tony Wright also getting up to ask questions relating to their respective constituencies. The House of Commons is a funny place. I remember being told at school that you should always be quiet when someone else is speaking, and you should remain attentive in order to fully understand their point. This does not seem to apply to MPs. Constant whispering and jeering from the back benches is punctuated by the heavy wooden doors behind Speaker Michael Martin creaking open and slamming shut as politicians come and go from the debate. Every time the doors swing open, nearly everyone in the room shifts their attention to the far end, presumably to see who is entering the House. This is highlighted when the doors flap open and a blanket of silence envelopes the room as Home Secretary David Blunkett walks in to read the proposals for the Government's new Sex Offenders Bill. At 4pm, he finishes his speech, and photographer Allan Williamson and I, both suitably impressed with Blunkett's manner, leave the gallery to meet Michael in the Central Lobby.  We shoot off to Portcullis House for coffee and a chat. Michael receives a pager-message as we talk. He is to stand in as chair for the All-Party Film and Television Production Industry Group at 6pm. It really is all go, all day. We leave Portcullis House for a few more photos outside the building and then say a tired goodbye and thanks.
It's been a busy, busy day, and we're not going to get home until 10.30pm tonight. Our capital city remains bustling behind us, struggling to hold its banks as the swell of the early evening rush hour slowly drips away. It seems a world apart from the quiet Lichfield streets. As I wrestle to contain all the information that has permeated my head in such a short space of time, I wonder how our MPs can deal with all the issues which weigh heavy on the minds of their constituents and country on a day-to-day basis. Following my earlier comments on the country's public transport system, our train leaves Euston on the dot. London is full of surprises. |  | Daily Diary of an MP 
8.30am to 9am - In the office, Michael will go through his post, check appointments and prepare for the day's business.
10am - House of Commons for meetings and morning business. Including Culture, Media and Sport Select Committee hearings.
12.30pm or 1pm - Back to the office for more constituency work, answering mail and messages. Prepare for speeches for the afternoon.
2.30pm - Back to the Commons for Question Time at 3pm. Includes Prime Minister's Questions every Wednesday.
4pm - Could be taking part in an evening debate in the Commons or working back at the office. The evening usually includes a dinner or meeting of one of the many interest groups or committees of which Mr Fabricant is a
member.
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