Robert Marshall-Andrews

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I am a toolbox (from The Guardian)

I have a contract. I got it last month. It was drafted by a minor literary genius in Labour Party Headquarters at Millbank Tower in order to regulate my activities as an MP between now and the next election. With a fine sense of metaphor, the contract refers to itself as a "Toolbox". Now in 30 years as a lawyer dabbling at the edge of commercial jurisprudence I have never seen a contract which is also a toolbox. Intrigued, I read on and it all became clear, as you will see.

The point of this contract (which I was asked to sign at the top and bottom) was to ensure that I did certain things to my constituents in Medway. The most impressive was to visit 26,000 of them personally by the next election. I was suddenly gripped by a sense of enthusiasm. What a wonderful prospect for them and me! I read on, but quickly discerned an apparent flaw in this otherwise luminous and poetic document. It contained no instructional help in what I should do to the 26,000 citizens of Rochester and Chatham and the Hoo Peninsula. I searched for a hidden appendix. There was none. Then suddenly I had it. There was a code. It explained why this contract, this elegant piece of prose, was also called a "toolbox". It was not a metaphor for the contract, it was a metaphor for me. Armed with a toolbox or, more accurately, as a toolbox, I was to go to 26,000 of my constituents and offer them some small but useful service. Exactly what service would probably depend upon their requirements and needs. Mentally I rehearsed my role:

"Good morning, I am Robert Marshall-Andrews QC, your Labour Member of Parliament but I am also a toolbox. No, please do not shut the door. Here is my Millbank identity card testifying that I am wholly qualified for this operation.

"Of course you were in bed. That is only natural at 4.30am. But please appreciate that I have another 24,642 constituents to visit. Most services, however small, take at least five minutes to complete to a high standard. No doubt you will appreciate that I need to start early. In fact I hardly start at all. It is a matter of continuous process. Yes, it is hard from time to time.

"However, I am also a trained vote-blitzer, so food and sleep mean little to me.

"What is this? Oh, this is my toolbox. I appreciate it looks more like a small handcart, but I must be prepared to carry out a vast range of services. The trailer behind the handcart? That is a reference library. Indeed it was the reference library before it closed.

"Are you still there? I am sorry the head strap fell over my eyes. Yes, it is an interesting device. They are manufactured in Tibet to assist in the pulling of the handcart. They are available, at a small discount, to members of the parliamentary Labour Party. Now I wonder if it is possible to offer you some small service?

"Oh come, surely there is something? I cannot but notice that the hinge on the front gate was loose and the paint ... I see. Well perhaps you have a pet that requires deworming?

"I see. Well, possibly dry rot or areas of infestation. Carpet mites can be especially hard to detect for the untrained eye. Compost? I happen to have a bag of high-nitrate horse-dung in the toolbox, well-rotted, brilliant for azaleas. Hedge clipping? Re-grouting? Knife sharpening? House clearance? Oh, come come, what about all that nasty scale round the bath?

"Oh very well, but this is very disappointing, really. I shall have to make a report. Perhaps you would sign ... What? Pension? Your pension? No, I'm afraid that's a matter for parliament, you know, those johnnies up in Westminster.

"No, no, I'm afraid you have got that quite wrong, but don't worry, it's a really common error. It's what we call the old politics. Just think for a moment: if I were up there mucking about in parliament I couldn't be down here looking at your U-bend now could I? And besides, it would be terribly irritating for the Government."