Theatre-loving Luff dreams of ministerial office

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Peter Luff, MP for Mid Worcestershire, spoke to The House Magazine about ministerial ambition, his work as a select committee chairman and why his wife's cooking is a rare treat.

When I proposed to my wife in 1981 I warned her that I wanted to be an MP. I don't think she knew what that would mean, and in retrospect neither did I.

My father died when I was eight, so sadly he had very little influence on my life.

He was an old man by then, and had fought in the First World War with Lawrence of Arabia.

My mother, who died relatively recently, had no real political interests, but my grandfather had been mayor of Windsor in 1913. He was almost certainly a socialist, and was certainly very independently minded.

My family ran a printing and stationery business, so that's what I was going to do. However, my economics teacher – who was a big influence – told me to go into politics. He put the thought into my head.

When I went to Cambridge I got involved with the student Conservative group and the Reform group.

I also met Peter Walker, the Tory MP for Worcester. He would go around the universities acting as his own headhunter, and after I graduated in 1977 I began working for him.

The most important thing Peter taught me was the need to repeat your message. He would say: "It's only when you're bored to tears with your message that other people are just beginning to grasp it."

After two-and-a-half very happy years I went back to the family business, becoming the company secretary.

One day, out of the blue, I got a call asking if I would like to work for Ted Heath. It was 1980; the ‘great sulk' developed a bit later. Ted was shy, that was the key to understanding him, and everyone who worked for him loved him.

I travelled the world with him: we were nearly drummed out of South Africa when he made a speech on apartheid, and I was in Beijing when Zhao Ziyang revealed the one-country, two-systems terms for Hong Kong.

After I was elected I met him in the lobbies and he said: "You should be more serious." That was it. A few years later, he passed me and said: "You're doing rather well." I was amazed – he never praised anyone. Ted was a wonderful, but infuriating, man.

I stopped being a researcher because I needed more money to support my family. In retrospect I wish I had been a civil engineer, but a friend from university days asked if I would like to go into public affairs. It is a demanding role, but I was fascinated by it.

I first fought Frank Dobson in Holborn and St Pancras in 1987. I liked Frank, but I don't think he took too kindly to a Conservative candidate who actually did some campaigning in his constituency.

I fought Worcester in 1992. The first two weeks of the campaign were difficult and opinion polls said I would lose, but the mood on the doorstep suddenly changed at the time of the Labour rally in Sheffield.

Whether that was coincidental, I don't know, but it shows why we have to be very careful as a party now. You can very quickly throw away the advantage if you get something wrong, as Neil Kinnock clearly did.

The 1992 Parliament was horrid, bruising and depressing. We had the twin problem of a gradually eroding majority and the whole Maastricht rebellion.

I started off as PPS for Tim Eggar at energy, and ended up working for both Lord Mackay at the lord chancellor's department and Ann Widdecombe at the Home Office. The tension between the two departments was fascinating.

One or two of my colleagues managed to scramble into ministerial office at the end of the Parliament, and I would like to have been a minister – but in 1997 we had the tidal wave that swept away the party and left a few survivors clinging to life rafts and looking at each other in amazement.

Of course we lost again in 2001 and 2005, and then the expenses saga began. It's easy to think: what was that all about? 1992 was about the worst time to be elected as a Tory MP. Through it all, however, you have to be passionate about this place.

I have loved working in teams and pursuing single-issue causes. I'm very proud to have led campaigns on issues like circuses, left-handedness, and radio microphones, and when the ministerial career disappeared in 1997 I became the chairman of the agriculture committee. We were in a position to change government policy – which we did on vitamin B6 – and I enjoyed it.

I was a whip from 2000 to 2005. There's incredible loyalty within the whips' office, which you don't often get in politics, and I found it very attractive.

In 2005 I became chairman of the DTI select committee, which is now the BIS committee. It's a serious committee and it has made a difference.

I am most proud of last July's report on energy prices. It was thorough and detailed and changed things significantly.

Earlier this year we produced a damning report on the relationship between the big pub companies and their lessees, and big changes are being made because of it. When Peter Mandelson returned to Westminster, the committee became even more important – though we have argued that he should appear before the House.

The Mail's Quentin Letts comes along to watch me having a row with Peter Mandelson, but the committee is not a pantomime act, we're there to scrutinise.

We are at our best when we work as a team and hunt down the truth, but it's only when we attack that we get noticed – and that is very frustrating. We produced a report on the higher-value-added economy which was an entirely constructive report – but there wasn't a word of coverage anywhere.

I nominated David Cameron for the party leadership, and it's the best judgment call I have made as an MP. I could have easily asked for a job in the shadow team, but I didn't want to stop chairing the committee.

Of course, I would be interested in ministerial office, but it's not in my gift. If I'm a select committee chairman again then I'd be delighted, but I would like to be a minister.

When the history of this Parliament is written I think people will say that the Telegraph went too far.

In all the time I have been here I have put in receipts, and I was punished for my openness. People like me, who genuinely needed to spend the money and then put in receipts, gave the Telegraph a field day.

The largest meeting of my association was over expenses, and most people were overwhelmingly pleased with what I said, and I got a standing ovation. I wouldn't do things much differently: people don't understand what it takes to live and work in two places.

Many of the Kelly recommendations are very good, but I think he's brought a personal prejudice to his recommendations on employing spouses and produces no evidence to suggest it's a bad thing. Some of my constituents have expressed horror and outrage at the proposals.

It probably doesn't affect me personally. My wife will probably wind down her work in the next five years anyway, and I will be standing again.

I wouldn't go through all the misery of the last 17 years to miss the chance of the shining uplands of government. The next Parliament will also have a solemn duty to restore faith in this place.

My one regret as an MP is that it is so difficult to get to the theatre – which I love. My son has trained as a stage manager at the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art, and is putting on shows all over the place.

What I enjoy doing more than anything else is sitting at the kitchen table with just my wife, a bottle of wine, and some of her cooking. It's a rare treat, but it is the best thing in the world.

This interview featured in the latest edition of The House Magazine, which is available from today.

Interview by Sam Macrory • Photography by Paul Heartfield