After years of hard slog in villas across Europe, the notorious ganglands of Oxford University campus, and some of Britain's fiercest think tanks, Peter finally made it within touching distance of a worker
With such impeccable credentials Peter could only ever have become an MP. Having a Marxist actress as a Mummy and the chair of the Fabians as a Daddy, Peter sucked up ideology along with his vegetarian rusks and soya milk. His earliest memories are of playing with his non-violent fuzzy-felt under the dining table whilst the grown ups above argued and debated the end of Capitalism, the outrage of Grunwick and 'this really rather fabulous Sancerre'.
A bit of a loner growing up, Peter never went to Scouts (right-wing youth militia), Sunday school (establishment brainwashing), or to watch the Arsenal (far too dangerous for one so sensitive as you dear), but instead broke bread with various Mortimers and Toynbees and learnt how to make fresh pasta from a Redgrave. He went to a progressive secondary school in Highbury but, sadly, was bullied on the bus and ended up at Highgate instead where he shone academically but attained almost complete social invisibility.
His summers would be spent in various rambling villas around Europe where Peter would sketch the landscape with an admirable lack of talent, read improving political works and, as time went on, begin to join the chat at dinner with the various house-guests invited from similar socialist backgrounds. Whilst his upbringing prepared a fertile seedbed for Peter's radicalism the first germination of his progressive outrage occurred when he found out that the workers’ households couldn't afford to take 8 weeks off in the summer. Until that moment Peter had assumed that the rest of Britain simply stopped during July and August and then went back to work in September.
On arriving at Oxford to take the inevitable PPE, Peter made strong friendship links with other metropolitan progressive thinkers, many of whom have subsequently become very strong colleagues in the party at Westminster. He shunned the sports field and the social arena preferring so much more an evening of intense discussion around a roaring radiator with some Fairtrade cocoa, a packet of vegan muffins and some like-minded folk from Somerville and St. Hilda's.
Post-University, Peter's work experience involved crunching numbers for a Left-Wing think tank, a stint as a SpAD for the then Home Secretary and writing the occasional, incomprehensible article for the Guardian.
'Selected' for an old mining constituency, Peter at last managed to travel further north than Hertfordshire by the time he was 27. Initially confused by the reaction he got from the selection committee (and thinking it was probably their accent he was misunderstanding), he was unsurprised yet still rather gratified to become their MP well before his 30th birthday.
Peter cares very deeply about the workers and knows that it's only a matter of time before he gets to talk to one.
Adrian Moss is a Contributing Editor to The Commentator and a screenwriter. The above in an extract from "MPs: A Spotter's Guide" - A humorous and scurrilous compilation of portraits of 48 different MP archetypes highly likely to be spotted hanging around the Westminster postcode, to be published this autumn. The content is satirical and the MPs are completely fictional creations…
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