liz truss x priti patel: the complete story

5. December 2019

Liz and Priti sat in the month's first cabinet meeting. They watched as Boris listened half-heartedly, fiddling with his pen, his mind clearly elsewhere. When he spoke, it was in occasional loud outbursts, which only elicited concerned looks and reluctant nods.

"We haven't been able to pass a ruddy thing! It- It's a load of poppycock! I want to chew my own tie in frustration!" He spluttered, waving his hands as ministers groaned in agreement, unsure of what to say.

Liz looked up at the feeling of a foot kicking her from the other side of the table. She caught Priti's eye, gesturing to the Prime Minister as if to say: we need to do something.

As the meeting was dismissed Priti and Liz rose with everyone else, looking back at the Prime Minister, his head in his hands, as they left.

"We'll talk to him later. He needs to prepare for the election and stop complaining about all this." Said Priti quietly. Otherwise he's going to lose it for all of us, she thought.

*

Dominic Cummings left the Prime Minister's office, passing Liz and Priti outside as he did so.

"You've been talking to the Prime Minister a lot recently. Don't you have your own departments to be overseeing?" He said to them, though only looking at Liz with cutting calmness.

"Being his Trade Secretary, I would need to talk to him a lot." Liz replied, with unrestrained malice in her voice despite the literalness of what she'd said.

Priti observed, amused at how she loved to brand around her title, how she had no fear to show her hatred for someone. She looked down at Dominic's scruffy appearance, wondering if it was some kind of strange power play, a constant reminder that he was above the rules. Her thought was cut short by a sharp look by Dominic, and she straightened her face. He walked away, as Liz shook her head before entering Boris' office.

"We just need to focus on the general election." Priti told him sternly, her authoritativeness strangely reassuring.

"They say you have no mandate for Brexit, well then, get one." Liz continued.

Johnson nodded, looking up at the women before him. He suddenly realised how bizarre it all was, that two women he once had so little faith in, one of whom he immensely disliked, the other whom he regarded as unstable, were now those he listened to most.

"There's compelling evidence about social media advertising. I have a lot of experience with that." Liz said. 

"You need to win over young voters to defeat the red wall."

Boris nodded, appearing to consider, as Priti and Liz exchanged glances.

"We'll leave it with you."

"Yes, thank you." Boris replied with unusual sobriety, and they knew that they'd gotten to him.

***

Liz sat alone in bed late on Thursday night, as she watched Priti's appearance on the BBC's live election coverage. She, and other cabinet ministers who lived out of central London, were staying in a hotel for the election result early the following morning. Rubbing her eyes, she turned off the TV as soon as Priti finished, trying to stay awake while she waited for her. Though Priti had her own room, they'd agreed that at this hour, no one would catch them.

After half an hour of falling in and out of sleep, Liz heard the door crack open as Priti crept slowly inside.

"Sorry." She whispered.