Liam Fox had been further than the moon flying in business class at taxpayer’s expense by April of 2017, heaven only knows how much he’s spent to make Britain global again. We thought it was time to send a correspondent along to see just how it goes when Doctor goes.
The phone rang. I let it ring… do I pick it up? it’s bound to be a PPI sales pitch, should I resist? I give in………
“Hi I P, it’s Trevor Bourne here, from the Department of International Trade, do you remember me?”
“Hi Trevor, yes, you helped me with that container import of blow-up dolls from China, and all that tariff and VAT quagmire I had to wade through. Shame the bloody things all had pinholes in them, I stood to make a financial killing. That’s the last time I import anything from China! Anyways, what can I do for you Trev?”
“Liam Fox is organising a trade mission to Kazakhstan and the DIT (supported by EU funding) have been tasked to find importers and exporters to accompany him on the trip. I can offer you a £1000 DIT grant to cover your costs and we can use it in Astana for a bit of entertainment, Just fill in the form asap and I can get you on the trip. We will fly out of the RAF base at Northolt.”
On the plane there was enough leg room for a giraffe and the champagne flowed.
“Liam’s been spending DIT money like confetti,” Trevor whispered to me, “it’s his own personal plane, given to him by Theresa, he’s going to put THE film on now, just go with it and please don’t ask any questions.”
Film! Excellent, I have been looking forward to seeing Black Panther.
But instead we had to sit through the resignation speeches of David Cameron and Nigel Farage both edited together, and when the credits rolled I could see Liam giggling in the front row.
An hour out of Astana Liam Fox, minister for International Trade, stood up (on a chair) before us.
“Right chaps this it, we are going in and we are going to win this trade deal, so help me God. TM, JRM, IDS, BJ, and MG are depending upon us to come back with something they can sell to the British right wing press….tally ho!”
We arrived at Astana airport and the full government greeting was laid on to welcome the British trade mission. The Kazakhstan President Nursultan Nazarbayev (Naza to his friends) led Liam off to inspect the two rows of camels.
At the British Embassy we were all told what, or what not, to say, and for some reason I was asked to go with Liam to sit in on the negotiations.
“We have oil,” said Naza. “What do you have, Fantastic Mr Fox?”
“Well, we have Japanese cars made by British workers,” said Fox.
“We get them already from Japan,” replied Naza.
“Well, we have Barbour coats with leather elbow patches!”
“We have them already! They come from the rip off clothing factories in India!”
I could see Liam was getting desperate. Looking around something struck me that was missing.
“We have flowers!” I blurted out. “Yes, we have anemones, millions of them, with a beautiful scent, which would be perfect to decorate all your palaces.”
“Done!” said Naza. “Send me your anemones and we have the beginning of a trade deal.”
I thought Liam did a little skip, as he shook my hand.
On the journey home I asked Trevor how it was all going in the DIT?
He looked crestfallen.
“To be honest I P, it’s been a bloody nightmare. Before Brexit we knew exactly what things would cost because we had the book of EU tariffs and therefore could be concise about our global sales opportunities and markets.
Now, we have to make it up on the hoof as we have no idea what tariffs or duties to charge for anything, just promises allied to hope. It’s like we have gone from a strong flowing exporting river to a meandering stream, and Brexit is akin to one of those oxbow lakes, cut off from the mainstream.”
Upon landing back at Northolt, Liam jumped into the waiting government car and hot-tailed to No. 10.
“He’ll be off to tell Theresa the good news about the anemones,” said Trevor. “He’ll go in through the back door, there are quite a few government Brexit ministers metaphorically using Theresa’s back door recently.”
Getting what they can, while they can, before they all get out.