LOUISE MENSCH - THE DISAPPEARING MP

The Times of Tuesday 7 August told us that Louise Mensch MP had resigned. The fact of the resignation came as a surprise to many of us but the treatment given to the story by the Times offered an even bigger surprise.

I must first remind my readers that Mrs Mensch is our MP. She is the Conservative member for Corby and East Northamptonshire. When I say ‘our’ I mean those of us who live in Oundle (which is within East Northamptonshire) and have, until very, very recently thought of her as our MP. This feeling probably stems from the fact that the slender majority she achieved at the last general election – 1951 – was almost certainly achieved through the voting of Oundle’s Conservative supporters. She wooed us hard and needed to as she was aiming to replace a Labour MP, Phil Hope, who had almost certainly won his seat because of his appeal to Corby Labour voters. I don’t know how she feels about it but I think that Oundle’s support got her the seat. Personally I thought she was pretty impressive and I supported her candidacy in a meaningful way (I sent a cheque).

Louise Mensch MP resigned on 6th August. She gave as her reason that it was the only way to keep her family together. Mrs Mensch has three children and her current husband lives in New York. As far as I can tell, husband, Peter Mensch, hasn’t recently moved to New York, he has been living there for quite a while. The father of the three children is Anthony LoCicero, also an American, and was Mrs Mensch’s first husband.

When Louise, an elected MP, with three children, fell in love with and married another who inconveniently lived in a country far away. Somewhere along the road she must have divorced Mr LoCicero. So, I suppose, it made perfect sense for her to go and live with her new fella, taking her children with her. But the new fella lives in the USA and she’s an MP in the UK; so she couldn’t. ‘Twas a circle that couldn’t be squared.

One cannot blame someone for what someone else has said about them but Alison Pearson in the Daily Telegraph on 9 August said of her, ‘To become an MP when you have three children under the age of eight might be considered hard. To be an MP as a single mother with three children under eight and undertake regular media appearances is setting the bar giddily high’. I do believe that this single mother stuff is the impression the media have of the lady; whether or not they have been consciously given that impression and by whom I cannot say because I do not know.

It’s the single mother stuff that I find hard to take. If the Daily Telegraph report of 6 November 2011 is correct the lady was married to Mr Mensch by that date. So she wasn’t single after that date and she is not single now. So she’s not a single mother! She is ‘single’ only in the sense that she doesn’t have immediate access to her husband. That’s not the same as having a husband run off on you, or becoming a widow, or becoming a mother through having unprotected casual sex.

What we are left with is a lady who changed husbands in the mid-stream of her children’s lives and has been finding it rather difficult to manage because her new man lives abroad. What about employing help? A Nannie? People with far less money than Louise appears to have employ a Nannie to help with the children.
So the ‘single mother’ stuff, is no more than ‘de facto’ and is, as sunburn used to be regarded in the armed forces, a self-inflicted wound. And if you want to put the whole business into context imagine what would have been the reaction had a male MP done a similar thing? I need not continue on this theme.

What we have here is passion. Hot pants. And passion trumps reason.

We got married in a fever
Hotter than a pepper sprout

But … but … what about her responsibilities as our parliamentary representative? There may not have been a contract but wasn’t she elected for the four year term of the government? When she was up for selection at Conservative Party HQ in Corby what would have happened if she had said that she wanted to be selected and elected but reserved the right to swan off if her lovelife moved her in a different direction. I can tell you this with complete confidence; the selection committee wouldn’t have worn it.

So we, the constituents, are now unrepresented in Parliament and will remain so until November when a by-election will probably be held. Unless some available Tory superstar can be found it’s going to be a walkover for Labour. At the end of last week Ed Milliband turned up on the streets of Corby to rally the faithful and went on to Thrapston to press the flesh ( which on a TV clip shown on the News he called ‘Frampton’); how opportunist is that? Mr M didn’t come to Oundle which indicates his level of confidence in the by-election result.

In my opening sentence I referred to the treatment given to the Mensch story by The Times. On 7 August the paper carried a Page 3 News story headed, ‘Mensch resigns for sake of her family’ and one of those beautifully taken pics of what I think of as the ‘remodelled’ Mensch. This piece is opposite a leading article (Page 2) headed. ‘A Real Mensch – A work-life balance is as important for MPs as for the rest of us’. (I still don’t get the hidden reference. What’s a ‘real Mensch’? Is there a double-meaning lurking there? It missed me, anyway). Then, don’t go away yet, we find a Page 19 piece headed, ‘We can’t afford to lose people like Louise’ – and it’s a big piece, three quarters of a full page - and it is accompanied by another picture of the remodelled Mensch. So, by now we have the full story. Oh no we don’t, there’s more. The lady gets the entire cover of Times 2. This is in the same 7 August edition. Two thirds of the page devoted to a picture of the full remodelled Mensch, from toe to head, wearing a slinky black number, hands on hips and a smile of such magnificently smug self-satisfaction that it takes your eye off the background showing the Houses of Parliament, which is, come to think of it, entirely appropriate. It is headed ‘The mother of all arguments’. Don’t go away yet! There’s more. Turn the page and you see about two thirds of a page carrying the rest of the story and a slightly blurry picture of Mr and Mrs Mensch. The author of this piece, Carol Midgely, helps fulfil the prophesy of my earlier blog on Mrs Mensch (LOUISE MENSCH - ODD OUNDLE 9) by quoting what she has said about her new man. Of this I said she had probable committed a ‘Kinnock’ when she said of him, ‘I have strong feelings of hero worship towards him. I was longing to brand myself with his name for a very long time. He’s a living legend and to be his wife is the greatest honour. He is absolutely stunningly gorgeous. My palms still sweat with adrenaline whenever he walks into a room’. I think my wife knows how you feel, Louise and feels the same way about me but she keeps it to herself, she doesn’t want to embarrass me by saying damned stupid things in public.

Then The Times has yet another go at what has become the other Topic of the Week and devotes the whole of page 29 in the Saturday 11 August issue to the Mensch/working mothers debate. A picture of the remodelled Mensch occupies no less than 36% of the page. One thing that emerges from this is that what really matters to The Times is not about working mothers or female MPs who lose their bottle it is about being beautiful. I think the picture editor on this newspaper has fallen in love. Forget it, my friend, the lady is spoken for.

This level of coverage in is inexplicable. Unless, and here you must allow for my tendency to look for conspiracy theories, Mr Murdoch whom you may remember had something of a roasting from the lady at the recent phone-hacking enquiry, thought it would be amusing to create a huge public awareness of her so that any subsequent fall from grace would be even more damaging. But that’s just nonsense.

It’s probably more likely that what we see is the result of a combined assault on the paper’s journalists by a team of PR people at a time when the writers not covering the Olympics were experiencing what is known as a ‘slow news day’. And a besotted picture editor, of course.

So now, we hope, it’s all over. Mrs Mensch is packing her bags and all the impedimenta required by three children who are going to have to adjust to a very new life and that will be the last we see of her. Some time she might give thought to the later lines of the song I quoted earlier:

We’ve been talking ‘bout Jackson
Ever since the fire went out.

To return to the good people of Oundle: I think many of us feel as though the young woman they voted for so enthusiastically has simply dumped them and it leaves a bad taste. I think we now have to accept that our next MP will be Labour and if it turns out to be Phil Hope, the one replaced by Mrs Mensch a couple of years ago, that won’t be too bad.

Me, I feel dumped as well, and I should like to put to Mrs Mensch that as she’s given us half-measure in serving for only two years she might like to return to me half of the sum I sent to support her campaign.

Fat chance.

BIG BROTHER WORKS AT LLOYDS TSB

It was only a couple of month ago when I was online late one evening. I was examining a bunch of photographs of my son’s wedding that he had sent me via a website called Snapfish that is based in the USA. The idea was that using the facility offered by the site I would compile an album of pictures and they would produce it and send it to me in return for money. I’m slow at this kind of thing but I persevered and eventually put together what was for me a pleasing collection of nice pictures. When it came to payment I was presented with a form to which I added all the usual data including my debit card details. I clicked on the appropriate place and waited to be told that all was well and that my album would soon be on its way to me. What I actually got was a blunt message saying that my payment had been declined by my bank, Lloyds TSB.

It was about 11.30pm and I had been sitting at my desk for about 45 minutes working away at what was for me something of a challenge. Having reached the end of it all I had achieved that somewhat self satisfied state of closure that you get when you’ve jumped all the hurdles. My brain was slightly addled but I’d done it. But I hadn’t because someone had blocked my account.

I called the bank. You probably know what this involves. Instructions from a disembodied voice. The bank sort code tapped in. The account number tapped in. Tapped into a handset that you want to listen to see if your tapping in is being fruitful but you can’t listen because you are tapping stuff in or when you are listening you can’t tap anything in because your face is in the way. Then Options. There is no Option for saying What The Hell Are You Doing Messing About With My Transaction When I Have The Money To Pay And I’m Tired? Eventually there is a person and, phrased more politely, you put this question to him.

OK. I answered the security questions correctly; they ask three, things like your Mother’s maiden name. Then I told the man that I wanted to know why they had had chosen me for their attentions. I mean, what was so suspicious about my wanting to pay a US company the equivalent of about $40? Not really a big deal is it?Ah! Ah! He says. That is the suspicious thing. Not very much money. That’s what the bad people do. They start small to see if the card they have stolen works. Then they work up from there. But the card wasn’t stolen. I have it here on my desk. If it had been stolen I would have told you. Wouldn’t I? (I expect the reader to imagine the voice through gritted teeth, the exasperation, the rising threat of violence). Wouldn’t I?

You give up. My payment was authorised. I went to bed. Later I made a formal complaint. They make it very easy to register a complaint. Can you guess why? Theirs is a labyrinthine process of passing a complaint around and around until no-one can remember what it was about and it disappears up its own backside. It makes work for people. That’s a good thing. It makes the customer unhappy. That’s also a good thing.

Moving forward. The Snapfish debacle is well into the past. I am now in a nearby city in Marks and Spencer with my wife and we are buying some sofas. It has been a long time since we bought sofas. The last ones we bought were very cheap and now, twelve years or so later, it shows. We have done the research. We have found a model of sofa that is perfect for us. And we are going to buy three of them. Don’t be envious. We’re getting on a bit. We've earned it.

Earlier that morning we had bought a new TV from John Lewis. It was quite expensive and I paid for it using my new Lloyds TSB credit card. (I said, don’t be envious – we’ve earned it). The payment went through without a hitch.

Back to sofas. Big money this time. A few thou. As I passed over my card to the M&S lady I thought there might be trouble as it was a large sum but that would be reasonable, they are just protecting us. There was trouble. There’s no explanation. The card goes into the machine and … transaction not accepted. Using the M&S ‘phone on the desk before me, surrounded by other customers and staff I ‘phoned Lloyds TSB Telephone Banking. Usual rigmarole with numbers tapped in. I found myself talking to woman in Fraud. She had three security questions to put to me. The second one came as a bolt from the blue. What was the month of my son Julian’s birthday?

Well, I’m almost never speechless but this time I’ll admit to being surprised to the point of shock. My son, Julian, died eleven years ago aged 23 years. It was the most painful time in our lives and our grief continues. I don’t remember exactly what I said to the woman but I told her that I thought this question had no place in their Security procedure. I refused to answer it. She gave me a third question which I answered correctly. The woman then told me that I had failed the Security questions and that the only way I could clear the block on my account was to go to a Lloyds TSB branch and present photo ID. I made it very clear that I was extremely unhappy about their inclusion of anything to do with my deceased son in their security procedure and said I wanted it to be removed – and we would go find a branch.

We excused ourselves to the M&S lady. Told her we’d be back soon. Left the shop and went off to find a branch of Lloyds TSB. Found one. Yes, there was a queue, a long queue. We waited until a member of staff was available. Jessica was her name and she was as helpful as could be. I explained the difficulty over the security problem, made the point about the unacceptability of that one question and showed her my driving licence with signature and photograph. They have a copy of my signature on the computer and it clearly matched the one on the licence. So get this clear; I have proved my identity. Agreed?

To facilitate matters Jessica ‘phoned the Fraud department of Telephone Banking to confirm that I had proved my identity. After a while she passed the ‘phone to me and I found myself speaking to a man. A man who told me that he must ask me three security questions ….

The four dots above are to indicate a slight hiatus in the conversation. You know what I said to him. It started with ‘Why?’ The fact that I had proved my identity didn’t seem to mean a thing to him. OK, ask away. Let’s get this over with. The second piece of information I had to provide was the month of my son’s birth. At this point Jessica, who had been listening to the conversation as far as she was able, put her hand up to her face in astonishment. I explained my position on the matter of this particular security question. He asked me the third question, which I answered correctly. I put the ‘phone down believing that all was now well. We returned to M&S and told the Sales person that we could now resume the purchase.

No we couldn’t. The card was refused again.

This time the M&S lady called someone in their company from the Authorisation department in an attempt to move things on. I do not know what this person did exactly but the impression I got was that they had gone through to Lloyds TSB. Whoever I found myself speaking to said that I had to answer three security questions …. and more dots.

And yes, the second question concerned the month in which our son was born.

I was by now getting agitated and just a little bit distraught. All right. I’d get this over with now and deal with the crass insensitivity of these idiots later. ‘It was June’ I almost yelled. Of course I was wrong. Julian was born in November. He died in June. I did know that. A psychiatrist might explain how and why I gave the wrong answer to a question that should never have been put.

So I failed the security test.

Back to the branch of Lloyds TSB where Jessica was still at her desk. She picked up the ‘phone and started to talk to someone. When she had finished she told us that the block had been lifted and all would now be well.

Back to M&S where we completed the purchase.

Now, dear reader, what conclusions do we draw from the above? The obvious one must be that this security process is not about proving one’s identity, it is about answering correctly three questions chosen arbitrarily by someone who has something missing in their mental makeup – and answering those questions is all there is to it. It's not really about proving your identity it's about answering three questions correctly. Note that I proved my identity beyond any reasonable doubt when I presented my driving licence. Note that on the first occasion of my grilling I protested about the question concerning my son – and I did mention then that he was dead – and I did make it very clear that the question upset me. But the system operated by Lloyds TSB does not factor in how their staff should respond to a situation like this. It is, I am sure, far easier to employ staff and say, ‘Your job is to put three questions to them and if they don’t answer – no matter what they say – you block them. Don’t listen to their blathering just block them’. So they went on asking that damned question like automata.

Next day a courier arrived with a box. There was an unsigned card from Lloyds TSB and two bottles of wine. Around the box was ribbon printed as shown above ‘Lloyds TSB – for the journey’. Was the idea that I should drink the two bottles and then take a drive? No, I’m sure it was an innocent gift initiated by Jessica and if Lloyds TSB wants a piece of good advice they should kick out the deadheads who run Telephone Banking and put her in charge.

Note: today The Times carried a piece in Business News headed, ‘Lloyds tops ‘most complained of’ list – for the third time running’. In the six months to June they scored 22,420 complaints. Royal Bank of Scotland, with 2.5 million more customers scored only 6,469. I filed my complaint on 24 August, had the standard reply back on 26 August and nothing since. I’ve also filed a Request for Information under the Data Protection Act seeking the personal information that the bank holds in their automated systems and paper files. I want to know how the buggers even knew I had a son called Julian and, if they are so damned smart, why they didn’t know that he was dead.

Post Script Let’s end this with a smile. Because I like to trace where people get my address for junk mail I sometimes give myself a title. So I might be Professor Diggle, or Doctor Diggle or Rev Diggle when I buy something online and then I see how subsequent mail is addressed. (Look, retired chaps do things like this, don’t think it strange). I had taken up an offer with a money-back guarantee and had decided not to go with it, so asked for my money back. It came as a cheque made payable to Prof. Keith Diggle. Not having a conveniently located branch I posted the cheque and paying-in slip off to Lloyds TSB. A week later it came back to me with a letter explaining that as the cheque was not made out to the person named as the account holder account it could not be accepted. My tart response to this caused a genial chap from the bank to call me to apologise for the action of ‘this numbskull’ who worked there. Another candidate for promotion perhaps?