“Do you take responsibility for what happened? Because last week my colleague on this programme, Louise Minchin, asked you several times if you had considered your resignation and you didn’t answer that then,” said BBC Breakfast’s Dan Walker. “So do you take responsibility for what happened over exams and what happened in the last 24 hours over the wearing of face coverings in schools?” “Um ... unprecedented … er ... pandemic ...” replied Gavin Williamson as he wittered on for 30 seconds about nothing very much. “But do you take responsibility for the issues in your department?” Walker interrupted. “Um ... in terms of exam results … er … policy approach ...” Gavin continued aimlessly. Finally Walker – possibly the gentlest interviewer any cabinet minister could hope to come up against – cracked. “You’re talking down the time so I don’t get to ask you the questions,” he snapped. And when Walker reaches his breaking point, you know the game is up. But then Williamson had known the game was up the night before when he had got the phone call from the prime minister telling him he had changed his mind about face masks in schools and that he wanted him to do the Wednesday morning media round. Even Private Pike has a humiliation threshold. It had been bad enough having to explain why he had switched to predicted A-level grades the week before, now he was going to have to come up with another reason for doing the one thing the government had said it wasn’t going to do only days earlier. “What shall I tell them this time?” Gavin had sobbed. “How about that they’ve got as much chance of dying from the coronavirus as being knocked down by a car,” Boris Johnson had said. “I’m not sure that choosing between two ways of dying is the way to go here.” “Oh, well, I’m sure you will think of something. I’m up to my neck trying to stop that Scottish farmer from suing me for trespass. And don’t worry. I’m about to appoint that rightwing Aussie lunatic Tony Abbott to the board of trade – it will be a race to the bottom to see who is the stupider, him or Liz Truss, so with any luck everyone will soon forget your latest embarrassment.” It didn’t feel that way to Private Pike as he shuffled from the BBC Breakfast to the Today studio. If he could get his arse handed to him on a plate by Walker, God knows what state he would be in by the time Mishal Husain had finished with him. He mentally tried to rehearse his lines. It was like this. This wasn’t yet another U-turn. Rather it was a sign of clarity and consistency. The country had got used to the government constantly changing its mind on issues, so everyone would have been mentally prepared for the latest switch of policy. Had the government actually stuck to what it had said it was going to do then everyone would have been totally confused. Besides, no one – apart from a whole load of twitchy Tory MPs, such as Huw Merriman and Charles Walker, who were demanding he made a bad decision and stuck with it – wanted a government that wasn’t prepared to do something different to what it had promised. “At every stage we listen to the latest scientific advice,” Gavin began, sounding more confident than he felt. Now it was Husain’s turn to be confused. Her understanding was that the World Health Organization had issued guidelines that it was beneficial for secondary students to wear face coverings in areas of schools where social distancing could not be guaranteed. So how come the deputy chief medical officer, Jenny Harries, had said on Monday there was no strong evidence for them? Hell, even Alok Sharma, the business secretary whose signature move was to never commit himself to anything that might be construed as news, had confirmed that masks in schools were a definite no-no just the day before. “Ah, let me be clear,” said Gavin. He hadn’t said how quickly he would follow the scientific advice and England had a strong track record of reacting later than everyone else. That was why we had a coronavirus mortality rate to be proud of. Besides, it was no big deal. It was only for schools in lockdown areas and on no account were children going to be wearing masks in the classroom. At which point headteachers of all schools everywhere made a note to prepare for pupils wearing masks the whole time. By now, Private Pike was prepared to commit himself to anything and promised that all schools would definitely return in September. He had no idea if this was true, but he no longer much cared as he knew he was in line for the sack within a month or two regardless. Husain cut to the chase. “Do you actually want to stay in the job?” she said, her voice finally betraying a hint of sympathy for the hapless education secretary. “I love the job. It’s the best job in government.” The teachers at his comprehensive school had done a brilliant job in helping him to achieve what he wanted in life. Even if the rest of the country was wishing they had done a slightly worse job and that Gav’s career highlight had remained as fireplace salesman of the year 2006. There was still just time for him to land Sally Collier, the outgoing Ofqual chief executive, in the brown stuff before he was done for the day. She had been a goner since the moment he had expressed his full confidence in her and surely no one would ever find out that his department had been more concerned about grade inflation than the impact of an algorithm that disadvantaged pupils from poorer areas? And even if they did, they would assume he had meant the opposite. Gav also considered mentioning that Jonathan Slater, the most senior civil servant in the department for education, would also be getting the sack later in the day for the exams chaos. Heads must roll. It was time for someone to show real leadership in the department, the prime minister had told him earlier in the day. And there was no chance of that real leadership coming from Gavin or Boris. Their only real discernible function was to be at best a distraction and at worst a waste of space. Still, at least he wasn’t the only one having a tricky day, as around lunchtime Boris found himself addressing a group of students in a school library. All of whom looked unimpressed and blank throughout. Every one of the PM’s gags fell flat, and his attempt to blame their exam results on “a mutant algorithm” – one that he had previously championed – was met with outright hostility. It’s not just Walker and Husain who know bullshit when they hear it.