Cecil, Cecil, Cecil...

CECIL, CECIL, CECIL...

Wondering if something altogether very different had been worth it was Conservative government minister Cecil Parkinson, who after details were released to the press of his extramarital affair with his secretary and a subsequent unwanted pregnancy, was forced to reluctantly resign from office.

Parkinson had somewhat inexplicably been a member of Thatcher's select War Cabinet during the Falklands crisis and had been the architect of the Conservatives' election campaign earlier in the year. Viewed by some as having 'matinee idol looks' and for some reason a firm favourite of Thatcher, at heart he was little more than a bounder and a cad. And a right fucking bastard.

Parkinson chose to scorn his secretary lover and their unborn child and stick instead with his wife, supported in his decision by Thatcher who had suddenly forgotten all about her Victorian values. His lover, however, was not going to be so casually denied and launched a scathing attack upon Parkinson, telling of his promises to marry her which in the end caused his ministerial position to be untenable. From that day on he chose not to take the slightest interest in the child, not once even casting his eyes upon her.

Cecil Parkinson was a prime example of Tory hypocrisy whose Lotharion antics would always hang over him, leading even to a whole new chant made on marches and demonstrations: “Maggie, Maggie, Maggie! Out, out out! Cecil, Cecil, Cecil! In, in, in! Cecil – out! Cecil – in! Cecil, Cecil, Cecil! In out, in out, in out, in out, in out...”

Well, on a wet Saturday afternoon trudging through the streets of London on another protest march it seemed amusing, at least.