Letters from Colin Nugent - His creator Geoff Atkinson

[norbert]

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November 2008. I’d just finishing filming a four- part Bremner Bird and Fortune series on money and was about to team up with the Freedom of Information campaigner Heather Brooke for a Channel 4 Dispatches on the soon-to-break expenses scandal.
Britain was in a mess. And while conventional research could unearth a lot – Heather had proved that – there was one question you couldn’t get near which intrigued me the most; what did those at the centre of this really think about all that was going on? Did they feel guilty? Were they worried? Was it as grim for them as it was for everyone else? What did they think privately?

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Then a second question popped into my head and with it a way of answering the first. Were those in charge now feeling so got at and undermined that a spot of old-fashioned flattery might open doors? Would an affable stranger bringing much-needed praise and homespun advice be welcomed in? Could a slap on the back trickle down and raise the general mood? Was this the cheap fix to save the country that Brown and Darling had missed? A one-man charm offensive! It was a long shot but if all it required was a few hours letter-writing and a book of stamps why not save Britain?
I couldn’t do this, it wasn’t me, but a character was starting to come to life within me who could and would.
Welcome into the world Colin Nugent (Mr). A 62-year-old retired school teacher from north London. Time on his hands, bristling with a teacher’s pomposity and with a wife and granddaughter in the wings to put pen to paper if Colin faltered. He was a lie, but a very white one. A stranger was a stranger; there was hardly any deception.
Colin was off and running. With no careful planning, I’d just pick off interesting names and see what happened; I would behave as Colin would. Alarmingly, a few days later the replies started to flow in. The theory seemed to be working: Chairmen, CEOs, movers and shakers.
Top of the pile was a letter back from Sir Stuart Rose at M&S. I’d banked on secretaries or the office junior being given the job of responding to people like Nugent. Wrong. It was from Sir Stuart himself and engagingly funny. More fool me, I’d underestimated Colin’s potency.
Even more surprising was Mervyn King – the governor of the Bank of England. Over the year, Colin and Mervyn swapped letters regularly. Talk turned to football. Nugent suggested using Aston Villa as a role model for the Bank. Mervyn liked the idea of Gabriel Agbonlahor on the monetary policy committee. Amazingly, the busiest man in Britain had time for a pen-friendship with the man in the street.
Were these great, burning insights? No. And yet, in a way, they were even more revealing for their homeliness. I’d set out on this journey but was totally caught out by it. Flicking through an old copy of Henry Root, much of the correspondence then was with outer offices. Had the country changed? Was flattery the key? Was it the recession that made everyone more needy?
Whatever the reason, a pleasant surprise in all this was that the humble forgotten letter was turning out to be a brilliant calling card. Mervyn King, Stuart Rose, Lord Rothschild, Seb Coe, they really did appear to go through their own in-tray.
However, two organisations went moody and refused to read the letters. Any guesses? Step forward BT and the Post Office. There’s irony for you: the two bodies charged with encouraging us to communicate pulled down the shutters and said they would hold any more letters on file, unread.
But letters poured in. Of 200 dispatched more than half earned a reply and of these, half – over 50 – got dealt with at the top. Nugent’s nerve was growing. The bankers were in the news following a bruising Select Committee hearing. Matt Ridley (Northern Rock), Lord Stevenson (HBOS), Tom McKillop (RBS) and Adam Applegarth (Northern Rock) all wrote back.
Applegarth told Colin he’d restored his faith in humanity. But the big catch would be RBS chief Fred Goodwin who’d gone to ground and was speaking to no one. Colin was nothing if not determined. A few letters and a couple of bunches of flowers went off. It took a while, but Fred got in touch. It was the start of a strange friendship.
This was the man who hadn’t said a word since it happened, with a rumoured £50,000 price tag on the first photo of him out and about, yet Colin’s small acts of kindness were getting through in a way nothing else could. There was a touch of redemption in the air.
Then came the expenses scandal and a wave of new victims. Michael Howard, Elliot Morley, Andrew Mackay, Oliver Letwin. Tam Dalyell, Peter Viggers (duck house), Douglas Hogg (moat) and Anthony Steen (public jealousy) shared their opinions with the non-existent Colin Usborne Nugent.
Steen – who had been slapped down by David Cameron and warned one more squeak would see him lose the whip – was particularly vocal, encouraging Nugent to send his barking mad letter to the local papers.
Caroline Flint wrote back agreeing with Mrs Nugent that she and Margaret Beckett had been used as eye candy and that standing shoulder to shoulder with Hazel Blears wasn’t going to be easy. ‘Letters such as yours keep me going,’ replied the former Europe Minister.
It was time to wind it down but there was a niggle: Colin hadn’t quite reached the top.
Step forward Sophie Nugent, his nine-year-old granddaughter. Her letters, complete with drawn bunch of flowers, had a secret ingredient – sentimentality.
A nice reply from the Vatican suggested it was a goer. Even better was a charming personal typed letter from Bill Clinton (Bush never got back). Best of all was the arch villain in all this, former head of the Federal Reserve, Alan Greenspan. Sophie asked if he would forgive us all for being so rude. He would.
The whole affair finished with Christmas well wishes to cabinet ministers. Colin explained to Alan Johnson it was tradition in his household to customise the Christmas nativity display figurines – notably the three wise men – with the faces of contemporary figures who had achieved greatness in the past 12 months. This year he’d settled on James May from Top Gear, Fabio Capello and the Home Secretary himself, who had served a year in the Home Office without messing up, a rare achievement. Could Johnson supply a signed photo of himself for this purpose? He could and did.
Exchanges with Foreign Secretary, David Miliband, went further. Nugent was at his boldest. Labour’s support was wilting but this was a chance to cash in. An opportunity to get rid of those dodgy votes we never liked in the first place. Shake the rest of the rotten apples from the tree. Better still were the opportunities for Miliband himself – ‘how about talking up workers’ rights? Maybe a hint that the rich will be taxed till they squeak, how about a gesture towards Moscow and a snub at Washington?’
‘Obviously the world stage is fraught with pitfalls and I’d hate to see you come unstuck but I personally would like to see you attending more military parades and talking up solidarity with other Left-wing regimes. Strike while the iron is hot, or rather the fist of purity is on your side.’
Miliband was enthusiastic. ‘Thank you for your letter much of which I support. Please do stay in touch.’
Colin will David, he will. Viva Nugent. Viva la revolution!
To find out more about Colin visit http://www.colinnugent.co.uk" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;, and to order his book visit http://www.jongleurs.com" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;

[Berylnugent]

Thanks for the post, will pop a few more letters up her exclusive to RoyalMailChat if subscribers would like. Let me know.
Colin Nugent

[Berylnugent]

Actually here's the first one to be getting on with. Might recognise the chap it's going to

Adam Crozier 90 West End Lane
Chief Executive Pinner
Royal Mail Group Ltd Middlesex
148 Old Street HA5 3NT
LONDON
EC1V 9HQ

Dear Adam,

Cripes you’ve got your hands full haven’t you? Unions on your back, customers on your back, some woman who put the stamps on upside down and has had her eBay parcel returned, on your back! What a shower, recession looming, everyone manning the pumps, you’d think they’d put a lid on their complaints for a bit wouldn’t you! Give us a chance to reach clear water. British public, don’t get it do they?

Still, no point me taking up your busy time blabbing on about stuff you already know. Show us the beef Nugent you’re shouting. Okay, here it is. What you need is a wheeze. Not a patch up, a real left fielder. And I think I may just have it. You’re a footie man. Did your turn at the FA. Know how to wave a magic wand over an ailing beast. Bit of a facelift, attract foreign investors, bish bash bosh, transformation, next thing you know the patients out of bed and on the way to a full recovery and a multi million pound turnover.

Right, so here’s how it works, Stage one – celebrity counter staff. Bit of training then you wheel ‘em round the country. Hour here, couple of hours there. I hear the Vorderman girl is out of work and up for a spot of fun. Good with numbers too, come in handy. Word gets out, Vorderman’s about, whoosh, they’re flocking in, bingo, job done, stick her on a taxi bike (good for PR shot), press in a frenzy, where will she pitch up next? Before long you’ve got people queuing out of the door in every Post Office in the land in anticipation.

Stage two, with the whole thing on fire you arrange a quick flotation, talk up the price, City on board, square it with the unions (come back to that). Stage Three, flog it to some rich Arabs. Blimey if they’ll pay top whack for Man City just so they can feel they are spiritually attached to Richard Dunn as he clogs yet another nimble footed foreigner into touch on a wet Wednesday oop north, then a sexed up PO is going to get them flashing the cash no problems.

Stage Four wait for the bubble to burst then buy it back for a fraction of the price. (This is where we need the unions to buy into the long game and tag along) Result – unexpected windfall to plough into the old girl; money to do all the things that need doing that wouldn’t otherwise be affordable if we left it to the government to chip in.

See, all it needs is a bit of blue skies thinking and the pictures rosy! Agreed there are a few rough edges to sand down but I’ll leave that to you; you’re the one with the track record there, I’m more a broad-brush man. Do let me know if it’s a go-er. No fee – service to the country is reward enough. I could probably manage an hour or two to chat it over if you’re free. Give me a couple of weeks as the diaries a little full at present but sure we can find a mutually convenient window to run things up the flagpole.

Sorted (that’s appropriate!).

Yours obediently,

Colin Nugent (Mr)

[smokerjim]

I'm quite certain that Crozier was nodding his head in agreement, and mumbling "That Nugent fellow's a bright spark - maybe he fancies a bit of consultancy work at £2k an hour." right up until he found Stage 4 and said "NO! What a damn fool! I'm supposed to take the money & have it away as fast as my broadband can send it off to Zurich! Right, that's it - cut all communications with this Nugent idiot.....I never want to hear from the idiot again!"

[norbert]

Thanks for the post, will pop a few more letters up her exclusive to RoyalMailChat if subscribers would like. Let me know.
Colin Nugent

can you do one for Mandy please ? - he's none too popular on here