Gordon Brown: Prime Minister. Tom Bower

Hunter, Blair’s personal assistant, slept at Nye’s home. During those visits they conveniently settled any outstanding differences between the politicians. Towards the end of the afternoon, after speaking with Nick Brown, Gordon Brown agreed that his closest confidants should gather at 6 p.m. in his office.

      The six men who met that evening in Brown’s corner office – Alistair Darling, Martin O’Neill, Doug Henderson, Nick Brown, Tom Clarke and Murray Elder – were all from Scotland and the north-east of England. Their purpose was to discuss how to bring about Brown’s election as the new leader. The mood was businesslike. ‘There’s everything to play for,’ announced Nick Brown. ‘You’ve got an even chance to win.’ Gordon Brown nodded. He acknowledged that Blair was his obvious rival, and did not mention any personal understanding between the two – either an agreement that Blair would stand aside for Brown, or that they would not campaign against each other.

      Doug Henderson disturbed their composure. He had spent the day ‘intelligence gathering’ around Westminster and consulting his constituents. ‘I’ve already spoken to my people in Newcastle,’ he said, ‘and you’re not going to win there.’ He then dropped a bombshell. ‘I just don’t think you can win. You’re behind in the press stakes. We’re half a lap behind. I didn’t need a glass against my wall to hear Mandelson at work today.’ ‘What do you mean?’ asked Brown. ‘His room is next to mine,’ explained Henderson. ‘He’s spent the whole day speaking to his favourites in Fleet Street promoting Blair.’

      Brown’s face fell. He was unsure whether Blair had approved Mandelson’s activities, but Mandelson had for long been contemplating a coup against John Smith. Smith’s death had possibly triggered a prepared plan. Brown never contemplated the possibility that Henderson might have been mistaken. Later, Derek Draper, Mandelson’s assistant, would insist that Mandelson did not brief in Blair’s favour for the first twenty-four hours.

      The short silence was broken by Nick Brown. ‘You’ve got to take him on,’ he said in a pleading tone. ‘You can win, and in any case you can’t trust Blair. If you do a deal, it will be ignored and he’ll welch on it.’ Gordon Brown’s childhood friend Murray Elder, a decent but uncombative man, cautioned him to ‘wait and see’. Impaled more than Brown by fear of failure, Elder believed that the hurt of defeat would be worse than to take a risk. Charlie Whelan did not commit himself, although he would later say that Brown could have won if he had been better prepared.

      Brown became gradually more grim-faced and silent. Someone opened the midday edition of the Evening Standard. A glowing profile of Blair by Sarah Baxter added to the misery in the room. ‘I don’t like talking about this on the same day as John died,’ Brown unexpectedly announced. His friends nodded, although they might have been excused for thinking they had been doing nothing else since that morning. Brown looked up: ‘I’m not going to make a decision until after John is buried.’ In the folklore constructed over the next years about the events immediately following the death of John Smith, that first meeting in Brown’s office was, like so many other details, erased from the record.

      Tony Blair had flown back to London during the afternoon. He was met at Heathrow by his wife Cherie. Cherie didn’t like Brown. She resented his brusqueness towards herself – the coolness and lack of respect he often showed to women. Even in the Blairs’ own home, the temperature dropped whenever he appeared. As they travelled towards London, the Blairs agreed on their agenda. Tony Blair wanted the leadership, and key relationships had already been forged. Since 1992 he had established a network of supporting MPs across the north-east, and he knew that he could count on the majority of London’s politicians, many of whom, like Chris Smith, were neighbours of his in Islington. Even some Scottish MPs, insulted over the years by Brown, had promised their support. Peter Mandelson, he believed, was also a firm supporter.

      Months earlier, Mandelson had decided that Brown’s abrasive style, provincialism and lack of populist appeal was not certain to win a general election. Not only was Brown seen as ‘John Smith Mark 2’, but in recent years the number of Celts among the party leadership had hampered Labour’s appeal in England. There had been John Smith from Scotland, Neil Kinnock from Wales, and both Michael Foot and Jim Callaghan represented Welsh constituencies. Unlike Blair, Brown resisted giving interviews to Cosmopolitan magazine about his favourite cars, his record collection, his guitar and his haircuts, nor could he dress casually for a loving pose with a young family. Mandelson’s opinions were shared by Donald Dewar, the senior Scottish MP. Although they were friends, Dewar doubted Brown’s organisational skills. Dewar and George Robertson would agree that Blair was the best candidate but, to avoid ‘letting Gordon down’, they would say nothing. Over the following days Brown would be allowed to find his own way to withdraw.

      That evening Brown and his confidants left Millbank unaware of those allegiances and attitudes. The task of rounding up Brown’s supporters was delegated to Nick Brown, who was ignorant of Gordon Brown’s vulnerability in England. A physical factor also limited his efforts. While Gordon Brown’s office was in Millbank, Blair had remained in Parliament Street. Nick Brown would not know who was meeting Blair, and did not realise that on that very evening Mandelson and Blair were talking in the Commons. Mandelson’s opinion was critical. His decision on whether to support Brown or Blair would determine which of the two modernisers possessed a significant advantage. Gordon Brown was also handicapped by his lack of an Anji Hunter, a ‘gold star schmoozer’ according to her targets, who successfully persuaded the party’s power brokers to meet and like Blair. Brown relied on Sue Nye, loyal but abrasive, who deterred rather than attracted.

      At the end of the day Gordon Brown travelled to Islington, to the home of Blair’s brother Bill. The outstanding issue to discuss was an agreement not to divide the modernisers’ vote, which would benefit John Prescott. Derek Draper drove Tony Blair to his brother’s house. ‘You know,’ Blair told Draper during the journey, ‘I told Gordon ages ago that he could not be leader of the party without a wife and kids.’ Inside the house, Brown and Blair affirmed that they would not compete against each other, but nothing more. Blair revealed that he was under pressure to stand, an admission carefully contrived to disarm Brown. Even as they met, the mood was swinging against the Scotsman. On Newsnight, Alastair Campbell, the assistant editor of the Today newspaper, openly supported Blair as the new leader. The Evening Standard’s last edition highlighted Sarah Baxter’s article ‘Why I Say Tony Blair Should be the Next Leader’. Broadcasters were naming Blair as the favourite. Brown returned to Westminster in a deflated mood.

      Early on Friday morning he arrived at the Labour headquarters at Millbank. On the coffee table at the entrance was a pile of newspapers clearly marked ‘Do Not Remove’. Grabbing the papers, he brushed past the receptionists without a smile and rushed to his office. The newspapers were discouraging. Others had followed the Evening Standard’s prediction of Blair’s success. A poll of Scottish MPs in the Scotsman showed that a majority opposed Brown. His friends would subsequently claim that the poll was fixed by Mandelson, but the tilt was certainly accurate. The comparisons unflatteringly mentioned Brown’s lacklustre performances in the Commons and Blair’s superior mental agility. English socialists, it was reported, had had enough of the Scots and the Welsh.

      Those criticisms, Brown believed, would not determine the outcome of the leadership election. Under Labour’s constitution, the votes of the MPs, the trade unions and the constituencies were of equal value, and the outcome was still uncertain. The question was whether he was prepared to fight. He still hoped to gain the backing of Peter Mandelson, whose unrivalled ability, proven over the past seven years, would enhance his candidacy. He could also rely on Charlie Whelan, whose voice was heard in a neighbouring room. Using two swear words where one would have been more than sufficient, Whelan was phoning journalists, urging them to understand that Brown would win the leadership. Nearby, Nick Brown, inexplicably wearing sunglasses, nodded his agreement although he had not yet contacted any allies in the trade unions or constituencies. Inside his office, Gordon Brown sat depressed.

      Over the weekend he returned as usual to Scotland. His first call was on Elizabeth Smith, the former leader’s widow. Helen Liddell, the