Everyone knew the pandemic was spreading. They knew it was spreading quite badly in London and among the ruling and celebrity class especially. Even Prince Charles fell victim to a mild attack. But the news that it was in Downing Street was a shock for sure, even though the good humoured prime minister assured the nation via twitter that he was okay and still working normally.
Gradually the list at the epicentre of government grew among staff, even the sinister Cummings. It included the PM’s pregnant fiancée. But the show stopper was news that Boris had been taken to hospital as a precaution, because he was not getting better. The pulse of the nation quickened. Uncharted waters bubbled up ahead.
Then it came. The moment when fluent correspondents stumbled for words, then went into a circular monologue repeating themselves over and over to update millions tuning in by the minute. The prime minister, our prime minister of the United Kingdom no less, was in intensive care. In intensive care in the midst of the greatest crisis the country has faced since the second world war, maybe the biggest health threat since the days of recurrent plague, which as a spin off has the power to wreck the economy.
But keep calm. Raab will take over.
Who?
The Foreign Secretary.
But isn’t he the one making an absolute horlicks of repatriating Brits trapped abroad, making them last line to get home days or even weeks after Americans, Germans, Swedes, whatever, set foot on their home soil?
Yes.
Oh.
That is the politics of it. But this is also a human story. Boris is struggling against a very nasty illness, which is life threatening. Everyone is hopping and praying that he will get better. People of every political stripe and none stand behind his family and friends in a time of great personal anxiety.