《No, Minister.(存一下英文版)》用其他笔名

27、[Interlude] S01E02.5 Cyril Astley’s Diary and Memoranda (28-31 January 1980)

　　Thursday, 31st January, 1980 | Whitehall, London | Cold and bleak
　　The Minister's office was unusually quiet this morning.
　　The Minister sat behind his desk, newspapers from various media outlets spread out before him, from The Sun's sensational "OH, MY COD!" to The Times's cool and restrained "Fisheries Tensions Erupt." He looked at them one by one, made no comment, and just silently pushed them aside. Then he took two memos from his In-tray and signed his name.
　　Sir summoned me to his office and asked for the details of the Cornwall trip. I submitted my trip report, describing all the events as objectively as possible, including Mr Lambert's words backstage.
　　After listening, Sir made no comment. He just picked up my meeting notes and pointed to several specific issues raised by the fishermen—industrial pollution in the River Fal, the patrol frequency of the Royal Navy's Fishery Protection Squadron, the application process for fuel subsidies for individual fishermen.
　　"Cyril," he said, "draft three memoranda. Address them to the Department of the Environment, the Ministry of Defence, and the Treasury, respectively. The subject is 'Preliminary local feedback and subsequent inter-departmental information request from the Department of Synergy Coordination regarding the sustainability of Cornwall's fisheries.' Cite the Minister's promises at the seminar. Request them to provide relevant policy documents, data reports, and current procedural descriptions on these three specific issues."
　　I was stunned.
　　"Sir… now?" I hesitated. "Given the current media reaction, if we actively approach these departments now, won't we be seen as…"
　　"As fulfilling our duties, Cyril," he corrected me, his grey-green eyes meeting mine. "The media is interested in drama. Whitehall is interested in procedure. The Minister made promises in Cornwall. What we must do now is to translate those promises into formal, traceable official documents. This proves we have not stopped working because of an 'accident'. This is the most powerful response to yesterday's chaos."
　　Beyond the clamour of the media, the gears of the bureaucratic machine turned as usual. Sir was, in an unimpeachable way, turning the Minister's seemingly impromptu promises into small wedges to be driven into the operational systems of other departments.
　　I spent the whole day drafting those three memoranda. The wording had to be extremely careful, conveying the Minister's concern without seeming to be giving an order or launching an investigation.
　　In the evening, the Minister finally spoke the first non-work-related sentence of the day in his office. He looked out at the twilight over Whitehall and asked me in a low voice, "Cyril, do you think… we really did open a few doors yesterday?"
　　I looked at the memoranda in my hand, about to be dispatched, and replied with absolute certainty, "Yes, Minister. I believe we did."