Did Margaret Ritchie make right choice in getting fewer seats in the Assembly instead of more? The arguments.

Rarely have I seen such an opportunity for gossip as the sight of the deputy leader of the SdlP Patsy Mc Glone at Stormont last week. As I milled around the Great Hall hoping Jim Allister would cause trouble, Mc Glone crawled out from under the stairs, blubbering wildly, with tears gushing down his face.

My well honed journalistic instincts drew me towards him, as I could sense that something just wasn’t quite right. I adjusted my distinguished spectacles to look him in the eyes. He seemed a broken man, but as his eyes met mine, I inspired an inner strength in him, and he spoke to me.

“Eamonn,” he said, for that is my name, “Eamonn, it’s bad news, it’s worse news than when you accidentally leave a window open and the lough shore flies get in the house.”

I put my iPad 2 into my satchel and wiped a tear from his cheek, “Go on Patsy, let it all out, tell your uncle Eamonn”.

“Eamonn, it’s bad news, we’ve come back after the election with less seats than we had before the election.”  I knew instantly at this point I had an exclusive on my hands, and I glanced around feverishly to ensure Purdy wasn’t lurking around, before letting him continue.

“I mean, Eamonn, I had all these plans, I had planned we would come back after the election with more seats than before the election, not less seats. I thought with more seats we would make things better, maybe overtake the Ulster Unionists, maybe get another seat on the Executive, maybe have a real impact on the bread and butter issues. I honestly thought more seats was a good idea – but Margaret said no.”

“Margaret said that this was a Big Al policy, not one of hers, and she was in charge now. She said fewer seats was what she wanted.”

I looked at Mc Glone with both intrigue and sympathy. As I mused over this shift in policy, it became obvious I had helped him remove a great weight from his shoulders.

After a brief pause he spoke again, “And to be fair to her, she executed her plan very well.”

Drying his eyes, he said to me again, “Eamonn,” his spirits now uplifted after speaking to me, like a child getting an ice-cream after falling off a bike, “Eamonn, you’ll keep this to yourself won’t you?”

I gave him a peck on the forehead, ruffled his hair, and promised him I would.

I adjusted my secret recording microphone pensively as he skipped away from me down the corridor. I can only presume Miss Ritchie if she is honest with herself will deploy focus groups to test this novel policy in da cmoonty... and I’m sure she will find someone very trustworthy do so.