What to do? @ No 10

Boy David was calmer today. Georgy also not so fraught. Is it the possibility of the weekend? Is it that they know that whatever they do, life goes on.

But this morning, Boy David was muttering 'Moussa Koussa ... Moussa Koussa ...' I thought to myself, 'Hang on! A new cat! Great name for a cat: Moussa Koussa.'

I was wrong - it weren't no cat he was on about. It seems this Moussa Koussa is some sort of politician. More than that, he is THE politician from Libya. It seems he is a man seeking to get away from Libya.

Now, why should all this exercise the grey cells of my Boy David? I heard some flunky from the Home Office arguing with another flunky from the Justice Department about what was to be done with this Moussa Koussa. Fortunately, they didn't notice me, so I had a front row view, so to speak.

'We can't let him into the country, then let him go!'

'Why not? If others see he's treated well, they'll also defect from Libya.'

'Can't do it, old son! It's not on! He's wanted for questioning over Lockerbie and countless atrocities. Can't just let him go!'

This was all too much for Boy David! 'We must say something! What do we say? What do I say?'

The two flunkies looked at each other, flummoxed by the thought.

At last, that familiar expression of knowingness crossed Boy David's face. You'll be familiar with the look, it quite transforms his visage. He appears to have smelled some transfixing perfume.

'I'll just say that we cannot grant him immunity from prosecution. How about that?'

'Brilliant, PM. Quite brilliant! You're not really saying anything, are you?' Flunky One said.

'Totally agree! PM, it is really excellent! You're not saying he will be prosecuted. So - all the others who are teetering on the brink of defection will think everything will be alright for them too!'

Boy David gave a Sphinx-like smile. I'd swear I heard him purr! But then, of course, he was in PR before becoming PM!!