Shropshire Star

Peter Rhodes on Boris's whoppers, Putin's threats and keeping calm Oop North

From the latest Private Eye magazine: “Tories to bring back integrity, professionalism, accountability and Boris Johnson.”

Published
Pants on fire?

We laugh out loud at that headline, and nothing demolishes political careers faster than laughter and ridicule. That's why the current talk of a political come-back for the former Prime Minister needs nipping in the bud. Boris Johnson may have all sorts of admirable traits and election-winning qualities, but he is also inextricably linked with whoppers. A few weeks ago the Independent newspaper published no fewer than 22 Boris lies.

When Johnson told us a few weeks ago that Putin had threatened to kill him, the Kremlin immediately issued a denial and the British population was left scratching its head over which was more likely – a Boris lie or a Putin lie. Who knows?

The best line in Sally Wainwright's script for Happy Valley (BBC1) came after Tommy, the serial-murdering psychopath, tried to burn himself to death in the kitchen and Sgt Cawood stifled the flames. Or as she explained to her sister: “I may have scorched one of your crochet blankets.”

It was a line that not only injected a much-needed laugh into the bleakest of plots but stamped this crime-drama clearly and profoundly as a Northern masterpiece. That line could have been written and delivered by Victoria Wood, Alan Bennett or Les Dawson. In the midst of bewildering tragedy the North Country virtues shine through: don't make a fuss, don't draw attention to yourself and, above all, cling on to normality and the simple, familiar things.

Thus, Wood's advice in a crisis was “turn up the wireless and carry on.” Dawson joked about sardines and septic tanks. Bennet sought comfort and company in coconut macaroons. And Sgt Catherine Cawood fretted about a scorched blanket, like the ones my grandmother used to make patiently in Yorkshire, even though nobody liked them. Keep calm and crochet on. It's a Northern thing.

“Pay us what we're worth,” declared one of the banners held by striking teachers a few days ago. This is clearly not the time to point out that, according to government figures, more than 200,000 pupils leave primary school each year unable to read properly.