The Prime Minister had never really mastered the art of ‘nonchalant’. Even before she became Prime Minister, Lucy always possessed a self-evident air of overt obviousness. She was by and large quite boisterous, but even when she was being very quiet, you knew she was there. This was quite at odds with almost everyone else at Number Ten, who wafted about the place practically imperceptibly. Lucy didn’t like it. You had no idea you had company until it was too late.
The journey to the Botanical Gardens certainly had an air of nonchalance about it, although this was due in no small part to the presence of Wing Commander Tom, who was rather adept at such things. Which was just as well, because the last thing they needed right now was scrutiny. The gardens themselves were a dendritic delight, spanning around forty acres of flourishing landscape laying between Trumpington Road to the west and Hills Road to the east. For centuries they had led the world in fusing horticulture and science, serving both the University and the great general public. The legendary glass houses – huge, towering beasts of great beauty – had been home to over three thousand different species of flora and fauna, but now seemed to have been converted for a slightly different purpose.
Chancellor of the Exchequer Ian Risk awkwardly examined his toes whilst Minister for Good Ideas & Gin Dr Samantha Martens and the Prime Minister stood tapping their chins, unsure whether to be impressed or furious. Here in the principle glass house, the air was thick with a cloying, sweet aroma and all around was the faint buzz of artificial lighting and the gentle hum of a sophisticated and extensive hydroponics system at work.
“Now – tell me once again why the Botanical Gardens have been converted into a gigantic cannabis factory?”
The Prime Minister swung on her heels and wheeled round to face the Chancellor. It was a simple question to answer, but that was really the problem. Even Lucy could grasp simple things; it was far better when her questions required complicated answers that she didn’t understand.
“Well, Prime Minister, the short answer is that this – “ Ian gestured to the forest of cannabis plants surrounding them. “This is basically the bedrock of our economy.”
Lucy was uncharacteristically quiet, but her eyes were like saucers in her little red face. Dr Martens was worried for a moment that there might be a small amount of violence.
“Right” Lucy replied. “Just out of interest, does the long answer sound any better than the short answer?”
“No, it’s much worse.”
“Right.” Lucy placed her hands on her hips and huffed ineffectually. “Right. I thought our economy was underpinned by the export of our Cambridge Special Damson Gin?”
“It’s the gin and cannabis,” said Ian. “But probably mostly cannabis.”
“Who are we even selling it to?” asked Dr Martens.
“You’d need to speak to Simon to get the specifics,” replied Ian, referring to Trade Minister Simon Daley – the architect of this great plan to become a drug dealing government. “But pretty much everybody, actually. It is quite literally the best weed in the world. But then I would expect nothing less from Cambridge botanists.”
“How do we even know that it’s the best weed in the world?” Dr Martens sounded a bit angry, but was secretly impressed.
Ian shrugged his shoulders but before he could elaborate further, Wing Commander Tom appeared from the towering throng of psychotropic shrubbery.
“The perimeters are secure, Prime Minister, but I’m afraid there’s some bad news,” Tom brushed a swathe of stray foliage from his otherwise immaculate suit. “The press are hovering about with their long lenses. They know something is afoot.”
“Bugger.”
“Would you like me to shoot them, Prime Minister?”
“Well I would like that very much, Tom,” said Lucy “But probably best you don’t. I’ve got a plan, actually, if the press really are that insistent on speaking to me well, then, I shall hold a press conference. But not here, surrounded by millions of pounds worth of drugs. We need to get back to Number Ten.”
“Prime Minister, the press will be on us the second we set foot outside the grounds,” replied Tom. “I really am going to have to shoot them.”
“No, you’re not, Tom,” Lucy grinned and wagged a finger. “I’ve just thought of another plan. It involves disguises. Follow me.”
‘air of overt obviousness’ … no woman I know … ah come to my senses … why do women fart more than men?
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That is a very good question, Eric. Perhaps our stomachs are smaller, busier organs and therefore make more fuss?
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yeay!! disguises!! 😀
I am glad you resisted the urge to shoot the press…that would probably cause too much paperwork!
I have never been very good at nonchalant either…or unobtrusive…I have a relatively obtrusive presence…apparently…it could be the hair…
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I always fall back on the disguise plot device! Mainly because I just love disguises. And they rarely fail. Well – okay, they mainly fail, but they are such fun 🙂
You are obtrusive in a marvellous way, I say! The hair brings joy and delight wherever it goes, but has a suitable air of menace that keeps unsavoury sorts on their toes 😉
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Exactly!! Disguises can’t possibly fail…
or at least can’t possibly fail to be fun…which is important
😀 that is an excellent description of my hair 😀 It is menacing to scoundrels…it has the look of hair that might start eating people if they are not careful!
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I wish I had the use for disguises more in real life. Fancy dress is one thing, but an actual disguise would be brilliant.
Hurrah! I hope it does start eating people. The current Government, for a start, so we can move in 🙂
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yes…we need a reason to have real disguises!!
Although…my dancing kit is pretty much a disguise…just not a very subtle one…
oooh yes…All I would have to do is stand near cabinet members and let it loose…then it could snaffle them up 😀
then there would be nothing standing in the way of world (or at least country) domination for us!!
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We need to find somewhere to infiltrate, then we would need disguises. It doesn’t matter where or why we infiltrate, just the excuse to wear disguises and see if we can pull it off 🙂
My confidence in our quest for world domination grows every day! I just worry about your hair having to devour such unpalatable morsels – you might need a good dose of gin beforehand!
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oooh yes! an infiltration mission complete with disguises just to see if we can…it sounds perfect! Just as long as noone has to be a nun…or a monk!!
I am fairly sure my hair could just chew them up and spit them out useless and out of the way! thus clearing out path but without it having to digest them…
I think being fortified with gin first is an excellent idea mind you…just to be on the safe side…
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NEVER NUNS!!! How about waiting staff at a posh hotel – or even Trinity College! Then we could spill expensive food down all the academics 🙂
Your hair is a magnificent beast indeed. I think the gin should absolutely be consumed just in case, and then also afterwards by way of celebration! 😀
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oooh yes…waiting staff would get us in practically anywhere…and yes we could spill expensive food down academics and / or eat it when noone was looking and it is not like they could fire us!!
I agree!! both preemptive and celebratory gin is the way to go… 😀
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A much better idea to eat the expensive food than spill it – what was I thinking?! We’ll spill the cheap and nasty food down them instead 😉
Gin is for life, not just for Christmas!
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yes…eat the good food, then replace it with cheap and nasty food especially to spill!! 😀
hahaha! that should a new tv advertising campaign…to stop all that good gin getting neglected during other times of year!!
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Perhaps we should open a gin re-homing sanctuary for all the poor, abandoned gin. We could re-home it in our tummies.
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oooh yes…
that sounds like an excellent idea!!
No gin turned away!!
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Has Lucy been reading Porter Girl? Or are disguises just a common feature of Cambridge life?
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I have a very limited range of plot devices and a massive weakness for disguises 🙂
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In which case, I must work on a disguise in case it is ever needed. But first, I must find Top Dog’s other photos.
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If you find myself in one of my stories, it is almost certain that at some point you will require a disguise 🙂
Oh yes, I look forward to seeing snaps of the handsome boy!
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Any constructive meeting among officials and summits between Prime Minister ad other great Rulers of he world? I am rather good at organising this – well, Mother was. Might it be a heirloom? But I am afraid, the summits and discreet encounters were mostly very discreet and straight and forward. Admiring strawberries you know, not cannabis. And all dressed.
But it was another world my dear: there were no King Boris, no Nigel Farage and no US leader with a stunningly false shock of strawberry hair! O tempore, o mores…
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Strawberries would certainly be a much more favourable export than cannabis and the way prices are going over here, probably more profitable! But, as you say, at least everyone is dressed 🙂
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O TEMPORA, O mores, sorry. I AM BEING I IN BED WITH A BAD COLD AND A HEAD FULL OF MISTAKES….
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You poor thing! I hope you feel better soon. My grandmother always advises hot drinks and rest. Sending a hug to you.
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I just wonder whether it might be a mistake to over-rule Wing Commander Tom on his own special subject…
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Always dodgy to go against the mighty Tom – but in the interest of adventure I think it should be done 🙂
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There might be a real adventure if you let him at the press.
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Very good point. Perhaps we can go with both plans!
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omg i love it. What a hoot to have weed as the stuff that keeps the country afloat.
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Gin was bad enough. But perhaps our own Government are missing a trick – and we might need a few new revenue streams after Brexit!
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Splendid. A cannabis economy is a happy economy. 😁
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And the best cannabis in the world, no less! Whatever that means. It rather suggests that someone has been testing all the cannabis. No wonder the UK of 2026 is a bit skew-whiff. 😀
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Any excuse to get that air hostess outfit out again!
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HA! You know me too well 😉 At least we don’t have The Dean dressed as Zorro.
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So someone else can borrow his Zorro outfit then! Send for it at once.
Cross-dressing is a rather effective disguise – for the men anyway. Most people are fearful of gazing too long, and few would be able to describe much of what they actually saw. Perhaps all the women really need to do to escape the male gaze is bind their breasts. I’m not sure how you’d fool the women, tho’ – since you are ruling out nuns.
Now if EVERYBODY dressed as Zorro, that might cause enough distracted commotion – you’d be noticed, of course, but nobody would be able to say for sure who you were. Who’d believe them if they could?
xx,
mgh
(Madelyn Griffith-Haynie – ADDandSoMuchMore dot com)
– ADD Coach Training Field founder; ADD Coaching co-founder –
“It takes a village to transform a world!”
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Brilliant! Everyone dressed as Zorro would work perfectly! Now, hopefully there will be a selection of Zorro outfits somewhere around here…. If not we might have to resort to nudity. Sometimes hiding in plain sight works best. Maybe. Oh it’s just another excuse to be nude 😉
xx
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All you’d really need for Zorro would be some black masks, a bunch of swords and a few capes – doesn’t anybody in that cabinet of yours know how to sew?
But naked would certainly make for an interesting line-up if the police attempted to arrest the lot of you and called in witnesses to make the ID! It would be tough to get the decoys to agree to strip, and nobody would be able to recall your faces if you were clothed. Could be a plan.
xx,
mgh
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I usually find that, in real life as well as fiction, the more unlikely a plan the better chance we have of it working. Or maybe that’s just my real life, which I am becoming convinced is actually a cunning work of fiction by some unseen – and completely mad – writer 😉
xx
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There are a few spiritual points of view in the world that might support that idea – and a few others that would insist that WE are the mad authors ourselves. Write on!
xx,
mgh
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This is a pleasantly effective plan! Why has no country thought of doing the whole drug dealing thing? Or maybe they have? Who knows? Loving the flow of this.
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Thanks, Deb! I have often thought that it would make sense. People will do drugs anyway, might as well make them safe and make a profit! Not sure how well it would work in reality, but that is the joy of fiction 🙂
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Besides Columbia, you mean 🙂 xx, mgh
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Oh yes, besides them. I don’t think they even pretend about it any more 😉
Xx
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Precedent! Then there’s always Jamaica too, but I don’t think they export. 🙂
xx,
mgh
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They keep it all to themselves. No wonder they are so relaxed 🙂
xx
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Come January, I think we should pipe it into the air vents in D.C. – get more than a few uptights to CHILL. 🙂
xx,
mgh
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Now that is a PLAN!
xx
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Tell me trumpington road exists…
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It absolutely does. In fact, the video trailer was filmed at a location on Trumpington Road.
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You don’t have to make up this stuff sometimes do you! Not taking away from all the creative writing that has gone into this venture! 🙂
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There is an actual Downing Street too and Number Ten is actually John Lewis. Creative writing fuelled by gin and filth, you mean!
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I remember you saying there was a downing street…some day the super store will rule the world. Gin and filth fuelled just like a real writer!
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I am hoping that one day the Spar will take over and we can have a mega-Spar in Cambridge!
Yes, I am feeling almost like a real writer these days. Give it a few more weeks, I might even start waffling on about my ‘process’. (Gin and filth, actually)
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I think the spar could pull off world domination [insert masturbation joke here].
Gin and filth is still a process; didn’t Hemingway live off scotch?! In earnest?! Whilst still being important?! And wild?! And Oscar must have had a cheeky gin or two
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Long live the Spar!!
It is certainly true about Hemmingway and Oscar was no stranger to a bit controversy, was he? But do you have to wait until you are a properly great writer like them, or is it okay to get practicing whilst still writing nonsense on the internet? (I know I’ve got books out and that, but I’m not quite up to Wilde’s status just yet.)
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You need the debauchery before you make it big, then you can disappoint all your loved ones by not changing your lascivious ways when you have your fame and fortune; practice makes perfect
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Aha brilliant! I can’t wait to disappoint all my friends and family with my hedonistic and morally corrupt ways! I’ll get on it straight away. First, though, I have a huge craving for a Peperami so I’m off to the Spar. Can I get you anything?
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The holy trifecta please; gin, chocolate hobnobs and bacon- not bacon, spar bacon is shite, hence the smuggling; I really must get on that…I may have half an hour after the dog walk…
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Right you are – do keep up the bacon smuggling because that is my back-up plan when the writing turns out not to be a career, rather an excuse for alcoholism and being inappropriate on social media. Do give my best to the dog. Not the best bacon, obviously.
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She thanks you for your best; not the best bacon obviously, I wouldn’t give that to the children! Though I do think she eats better they do anyhow…anyhoo, turns out no chance to post on smuggling this evening so get writing! Though I was trying to choreograph a naked trampolining routine in my head earlier…so if all else does fail…
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Reblogged this on Secret Diary Of PorterGirl.
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Woo Hoo, I love the idea of dressing up again.
xxx Massive Hugs xxx
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There is an awful lot of dressing up in my stories 🙂 No doubt Freud would have something to say about that.
Xxx Enormous Hugs xxx
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Well, it’s coffee time on the quiet day after Christmas. Time to catch up! Oooh, I love disguises – and the Botannical Gardens are growing cannabis? Better than our product here in North Carolina (our second richest crop)?
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I hope you had a wonderful Christmas Noelle! I am no expert on cannabis, but the Chancellor assures me it is of the highest quality. I must trust his judgement on such things 😉
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