Cameron’s courting of the NHS is more sickly than sweet.

  • To: Don Wise
  • From: Paul Servant
  • Re: Managers’ Lib

Am I alone in thinking that when David Cameron says “I love the NHS”, it’s a bit creepy? It’s like Serge Gainsbourg unsavourily saying “Je t’aime”. What’s he really up to? Is he after a deep and meaningful relationship or just trying to cop a feel-good?

Or is it a Bullingdon Club initiation dare? He caresses your neck, whispers je t’aime, with a little flick of his tongue on the tip of your ear, as his hand gently draws circles on your thigh. The poor, innocent NHS will protest: “you promised not to go near the privates”.

Back with his Bullingdon Club mates in Cabinet, they’ll be comparing scores. Schools spanked, local authorities shafted and Nick Clegg said yes but really meant no. At least with Andrew Lansley you know where you stand. He takes us back to a 1950s public school, sex education class – well intentioned but utterly hopeless.

“Now listen chaps, no sniggering, it’s all very simple. You give a GP a wad of cash, ask no questions and everyone has a bit of fun. But remember to be careful or nine months later you’ll be closing the maternity unit down. Right, next subject integration… Dorrell… I said no sniggering.”

So what should we make of the latest NHS date with David Cameron? So desperate is he to get the NHS bedded down that he’s told the consultants and nurses that they can chaperone the GPs.

He’s told Monitor to make sure that dodgy commercial travellers are kept at bay lest they steal the NHS’s virtue and leave it with an unwanted ISTC. And he’s told La La that although he really likes him they won’t be going double dating again. Oh NHS, je t’aime.