Holyrood 2011

The Rt Hon Sir Jack McConnell MSP sat on the back benches of the Holyrood Chamber, listening idly to First Minister Andy Kerr making the usual horlicks of his answers to the questions from the bright young things of the SNP front bench. There were times, he thought, when he did not regret having been forced in 2009 to resign as a Minister, even if the press did make an awful fuss over spending a couple of weeks in that businessman's villa in Sardinia. Just because of that motorway contract. Oh well, he thought, at least he did not have to spend two days every week preparing clever answers which when on his feet he immediately forgot; and then having to bluster his way through FMQs. He even thought fondly of Nicola who had lost her seat at the 2007 elections and who was now BBC Scotland's favourite political pundit.
In any case, he was no longer in tune with the New Scottish Labour Party. Sure, he had gone along with the smoking ban in 2006 - it was, after all, smart politics. The ban was an idea whose time had come and it was easier to ride the wave rather than resist it. But, although he had never really been a smoker, he had never been fanatical about the ban.
But the latest proposals to ban Scottish pubs from serving spirits or strong beer were a step too far. Jack had always thought that there was nothing wrong with occasionally getting outside of half a bottle of Bacardi, particularly if Bridget wasn't about. But the latest intake of Labour MSPs were re-running the arguments about the health of the nation. Since the punters no longer suffered from lung cancer, cirrhosis of the liver had started climbing the death certificate charts. And, anyway, Jack's influence on the health fascists on the front bench had rather waned since that unfortunate episode when setting up the twinning arrangement with Lithuania; how was Jack supposed to know how many vodka toasts were appropriate?
The health service had yet to show any real improvement in waiting times - damn consultants again! Scottish Enterprise was contemplating yet another re-organisation. The completion date for the rail links to Edinburgh and Glasgow airports had yet again been put back. The parliamentary roof was leaking again. Nothing ever seemed to go right.
Meanwhile, as long-serving Minister for Justice, Cathy had been captured by the law and order brigade, doing whatever the civil servants and the police told her. Did Scotland really need five new privately run prisons, Jack wondered. And allowing traffic wardens and environmental wardens to impose £500 fines on people unable to produce their identity cards seemed excessive. And he was far from sure that the abolition of the Parole Board was a good idea. Jack smiled to himself - to think that Cathy used to be a socialist!
No, all in all, Jack thought that it was better to keep his head down. OK, Bridget was still unhappy about the loss of access to Bute House, although being able to call herself Lady Bridget was a small consolation. But life wasn't so bad. He and McLetchie still played golf once a month. And Annabel - such a sensible woman - was always willing to stand her round in the Parliamentary bar at lunchtime. And, at last, the media no longer seemed to care when or where he went on holiday...