Description:The protagonists in a sex scandal that reaches to the heights of the British government are boorish Derek Blore, a rising British politician, Bernadette, a lovable prostitute, and Blore's saintly but indiscreet wife
Authors Note
Every now and then, a British politician resigns as the result of a
public scandal. The characters in this story are all caught up in such a
scandal, but they are all completely imaginary. The story happens in
a real place, and in recent times, but it is wholly fictitious. Derek
Blore belongs to an unnamed political party which is not to be
identified with any of the four or five major political parties in Great
Britain today. This is not a roman-a-clef.
Kirkus:Though "not a roman a clef," this coldly whimsical little treatment of a sex-scandal involving a British cabinet-minister does combine elements from several recent Whitehall brouhahas; and its central ironic portrait--that of the loyal political wife who remains cheerfully supportive through Anything--is certainly inspired by a real-life procession of stiff-upper-lipped, smiling matrons. After wickedly tracking the pathetic career of air-headed, well-meaning call girl Bernadette Woolley, Wilson gets right to the point: among Bernadette's clients is "Billy Bunter," who likes to be caned by ladies dressed as teachers. . . and "Billy" is really Derek Blore, a coarsely middle-class yet up-and-coming London politico.
In fact, noisy Derek is doing so well these days, with a Cabinet post on the horizon, that wife Priscilla is unhappy: she is, you see a tony type who married poor Derek--"a frog who could be relied on not to turn into a handsome prince"--because she thrives on being kind and patronizing.
Lucky Priscilla, then, will get lots of opportunity to be noble once things start getting nasty for Derek: she's ready to be forgiving when quasi-blackmailer Bernadette shows up at their London home; she's even ready to stand fast when Bernadette's boss teams up with KGB agents to frame Derek as a spy for Moscow (poor Bernadette is forced to wed a gay, washed-up Russian dancer as part of this scheme); furthermore, Priscilla is virtuously turning down extramarital yearnings from publisher Hughie Duncan--who's been missing "Romance" ever since marrying Rachel Levine, a US journalist who adores him.
Unfortunately, however, dear, noble Priscilla is secretly, casually unfaithful--with a slimy journalist named Feathers who foully brings the whole Derek/Bernadette/ espionage scandal into dreadful print. So, while Bernadette nearly gets killed (by the KGB types) and Priscilla regally retains her "gleam of kindness" through the trial, a disillusioned Hughie tries to hold onto his image of Priscilla-as-goddess. . . "as he watched her helping to distribute the sausage rolls." Too mild and thinly belabored for major amusement, too sneering for emotional involvement--but modest, stylish comedy of the slick, icy sort, with every character a fool or a faker.