'The whole Rex thing has reminded me. I'm getting increasing concerned about security here in Number 10. Remember last year those two bikes that disappeared from the hallway by the kitchen?' The PM reached for a teacake and waved at Jeff to take away the pile of newspapers that had a few minutes earlier so affected his sensibilities.

'PM we've been through this -they were on loan for World Bike Day so you and Thelma could have a photo opportunity outside for the press. They were not stolen; they were collected by Anomalous Rex's people.' sighed Icebalde.

'That can't be right, Thelma remembers that when they were delivered she asked if we could keep them and Rex's man assured them they were ours.'

'PM. I'm sure she make a mistake, they had been built by Anomalous Rex himself. They were just on loan.'

'I doubt she made a mistake. Thelma never would make a mistake like that. I'm sure they were stolen .They were never recovered were they?'

'PM,' Icabalde said,' they are in the Tate gallery, if you'd like to see them. I should think now Rex is dead their value has soared beyond belief.'

'Well I'd like to know how they got hold of them. Find out will you Icabalde. I'll make a note. Hold on. Where's my pen?' The PM picked up his pen box and turned it upside down to demonstrate to all that it was empty. 'It was here this morning. I had it. I must of.' The PM began frantically pushing the newspapers around the table.

Dolores pulled up the collars of her blouse to check down her cleavage then started shaking out bits of paper to add to the general air of panic.

'It's not here. Look Icabalde it's disappeared. That pen was a present from the President of Botswana. It was diamond encrusted. I can't believe it someone's got into the Cabinet room and stolen my pen.' The PM's voice had raised an octave.

Jeff now joined in the paper shaking, looking round the floor in case it had rolled off the desk. Jenny looked on bemused while Hugo used the impending panic as cover to pack his papers into his briefcase.

'Christ Icabalde. Aren't you going to do something? Call in security, lock the doors, search everyone before they leave.'

'Have you looked it the inside pocket of your suit jacket PM?' suggested Icabalde.

'We'll I never put it there,' said the PM rummaging into his jacket pocket, 'Oh wait a minute it's here. I'm sure I didn't put it here.' The PM looked suspiciously around the room.

'Well, crisis averted PM .Was there anything else?' Icabalde hoped this little diversion had made the PM forget what he was going to say.

'Yes, that's it. You can all go.' The PM flipped his pen case closed and slipped the pen back inside his jacket.

There followed an undignified scramble for the door.

'Hold on everyone I haven't finished. I need to talk to you all about a serious matter that Thelma has bought to my attention.' The PM waved them back to their seats.

Jenny, who had almost made the door turned around, mouthed, 'For Fucks Sake,' at Icabalde, stormed back to her seat, slapped her handbag on the table and threw herself into her chair. 'I'm sorry PM, did I miss anything?'

'As you will all know, Thelma had installed a few months ago, two bay trees, in planters outside the door of Number 10. Her intention, which was rather admirable I think you'll agree, was to make the house look rather more homely to the Nation. To make us look, well like, normal people if you see what I mean.'

'PM, Thelma needn't worry I'm sure they see you both as normal,' reassured Jeff eagerly.

'Do they Jeff? I am the leader of this Country you know?' The PM sounded distinctly displeased.

'Well err. When I say normal, I mean special normal. You know in an extra normal sort of way,' Jeff continued somewhat shakily, 'really much more special than normal... What I mean to say...'

'The Bay trees PM. You were saying,' Icabalde cut off Jeff. The blathering idiot, can't he keep his mouth shut.

'Well, yes. Anyway, yesterday she noticed a strange smell when she was at the front door. Upon further investigation it appeared that a cat has been doing it in the planters. In fact, there seemed to be a considerable amount of cat's do-do in both planters. And this when we are expecting a visit from our good friend the French President.'

This revelation bought a murmur from the assembled personages of the Cabinet. Icabalde found himself wondering why this would be a particular problem to the French President unless he was intending on his official visit to ostentatiously drop his baggy Gallic breeches and have a dump into the planters in front of Number 10 and would be offended to find the cats had beaten him to it. Mon Dieu!

Icabalde wrote in his note book in large capital letters-CAT or possibly CATS. He did not know much about cats. His chauffer had reversed his official Jag over a cat when leaving an RSPCC function he had attended a few years back. There was what he would have once referred to as one hell of a hullaballoo. The PM was not best pleased. Icabalde failed to see what all the fuss was about. Anyway cats could not be considered to be by any stretch of the imagination to be his problem so he wrote on his pad.

List of things to do on official visits to Barbados Police Force over Christmas.

Day 1 Morning. Shake hands with all police officers in Barbados.

Afternoon. Shake hands with all police officers wives in Barbados

Evening. Go to High Commissioners Party (Shake more hands)

Day 2 Morning. Lie on Beach

Afternoon. Lie on Beach

Evening. Go to High Commissioners Beach Party

Day 3 Morning. Lie on Beach

Afternoon. Lie on Beach

Evening. Go to High Commissioners Barbecue Party

Day 4 AM. Make press statement expounding success of visit

Afternoon, fly home to Blighty.

Icabalde reviewed his list carefully. Considering each line he ticked if off and then added.

Things to take-

Sunglasses

Shorts

Books for the beach

Things not to take-

Wife

Icabalde checked his list and then added under, Things to take.

Miss Timble????

It had occurred to Icabalde that he did not know if his PA, Miss Timble would be accompanying him on his trip. She hadn't come on his trip to visit the Maldives for the Earth Summit a few months earlier but then her father was seriously ill in hospital.

Icabalde admired Miss Timble; she had taste, not like his wife Betty. He had asked Betty to pick up a few things for his Barbados visit. Betty had picked out a Hawaiian shirt, a pair of sandals to be worn with socks and a book on foreign foods and what to avoid. Disappointed he had turned to Miss Timble .Within an hour she had returned with a rather smart linen suit, a roll up Panama hat, designer sunglasses, shorts, flip flops for the beach and Bevan's biography. She even completed his expenses form- £1,501.45p for, 'Official Trip to Barbados. Sundry Items'.

He wondered what Miss Timble looked like in a bikini.

Aware that everyone was now staring at him he said,' Sorry PM, I was just making some notes on your previous point. What was that you said?'

'I said Icabalde. What are you going to do about it?' the PM asked.

For a moment Icabalde thought he'd been asked to go and sort it to himself, 'Well it's hardly a security issue PM, more of a health and safety problem.'

'Hugo here has stepped up even though it's not his responsibility. He's volunteered to get the planters sorted out for Thelma.'

'Oh, well done Hugo.' said Icabalde with mock sincerity. 'But PM, seriously, it's not a security issue.'

'I beg to differ Icabalde,' the PM stood up.' This is clearly a security matter. We have to consider how, with one of your men standing outside 24/7, how an animal has been able to do its business right in front of Number 10,' he said stiffly. 'What's more, is it really acceptable for a member of the public to show their dissent for this Government's policies by allowing their animal to undertake this sort of dirty protest? We are a democracy, Icabalde. If someone's got something to say then I'll be the first let them stand up and say it. But this sort of behaviour it's... Well, it's despicable.'

'I'm not sure what it is you want me to do, PM?'

The PM causally positioned himself at the end of the room. He flipped his hair back, unbuttoned his suit jacket and smiled at his reflection in the mirror over the fireplace. 'I would have thought it's obvious Icabalde,' Strutting down the length of the room and returned to capture his reflection in the mirror. 'What is required is a complete review of our security. After all my wife and family could be at risk here. I expect you to bring the full force of the law against the perpetrator of this contemptible act.' For a moment the PM stood silently to allow this to sink in and then he frowned at his reflection. Having caught the look he needed, he continued. 'We must crush this insurrection Icabalde. Crush it!' The PM punched his fist into his hand, ground it furiously and looked around the room. 'What do you say? Are you with me?'

'Hear, hear,' cried Hugo enthusiastically thumping the table with one hand whilst clicking his briefcase shut with the other.

'I'll get right on to it, PM. Let me make a note. Oh Poo! Icabalde laboriously wrote in his notepad. He drew a little picture of Hugo being shat on by a giant poodle to make himself feel a little better and nodded to the PM to assure him he'd captured all he needed to in order to deal with the phantom crapper. He collected his papers and joined the scramble for the door turning just in time to catch a conspiratorial wink from a smiling Hugo.

Outside, on the steps of Number Ten, the rush was so that he found himself briefly jammed in the door between Jenny and the duty policeman.

'Fuck, that was awful, Icabalde. Seeing him preening himself in front of the mirror making those crappy little speeches, going on so. Thelma this, Thelma that. Can't you do something with the fucking twat before I fucking kill him.' Jenny fumed.

The Police Constable looked confused at this exchange and stepped down on to the street out of earshot.

'Exactly which convent did you go to Jenny, remind me?' said Icabalde.

'Spin on it, my little fuckeroo,' said Jenny giving him the finger as she sprinted off down the steps to her waiting car.

Icabalde stood for a moment on the top step, waved after her, forced a flicker of a smile and nodded casually to the Police Officer- after all you could never be sure if you had a camera on you. As PM he would have to get used to that.