I shed no tears at the passing of Cecil Parkinson, the former Tory Party chairman, who died today aged 84. Anyone described by Margaret Thatcher as “a good Tory” will never be mourned by me. The family confirmed his death with the following tribute: “We shall miss him enormously. As a family, we should like to pay tribute to him as a beloved husband to Ann and brother to Norma, and a supportive and loving father to Mary, Emma and Joanna and grandfather to their children.” All I can say is that is that he was indeed a loving husband to Ann, but possibly not for the 14 years he was having an affair with his secretary Sara Keays, which all came to a head when she gave birth to their daughter Flora, who had severe learning difficulties. The full story is here in this Daily Telegraph article from 2002.
I mention my general lack of emotion to Parkinson’s passing because of the major role he played in the grim Thatcher years. I am not out on the Corbynite wild left fringes of politics – in fact, the friends of Jeremy describe people like me as “right wing”, “Tory-lite” and “Blair-lite” – but I simply cannot forgive people like Parkinson who actively aided and abetted the wanton destruction of British society as we knew it.
Of course, I didn’t want him to die, certainly not of the evil cancer, so I get no joy for reading about his death and having mentioned his somewhat chaotic personal life, I really don’t care too much about his extra marital behaviours. To me, it just goes to prove that if a man could not be trusted by his wife, then who could be trusted by?
No, my dislike of Parkinson and the Tory politicians of that era (and this, to be honest) stems solely from the scorched earth policies they inflicted on Britain and their sick legacy that, sadly, still exists today.
