Cameron: Practically a Conservative. Elliott Francis Perry

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СКАЧАТЬ holding court the whole time’. After school, he, Alex and Tania would run around in the fields or feed Mary’s bantams. As they got older, they would go further afield, encouraging one of their Jack Russells to hunt down rabbit holes. Airguns would be in evidence too, but despite a profusion of rooks, rabbits and pigeons around the Old Rectory, shooting was carried out – or was meant to be – in a controlled environment. As the boys grew up, they would accompany their father on shoots, often at Wooley Park, the estate of Phillip Wroughton, later Lord Lieutenant of Berkshire.

      Early on the boys developed an interest in tennis, playing frequently and with some élan. David showed a greater determination, or at least aptitude, tending to beat his brother, and it was at Peasemore that the seeds of competitiveness were first sown. ‘He doesn’t like not to win,’ says a lifelong witness of David Cameron the tennis player. ‘He gets very cross with himself. He’s very gracious in defeat because he is very old fashioned, but then he’ll secretly go and get his racket restrung.’ The annual cricket games, played between two teams captained by the brothers and played either at Wasing or on the Peasemore village pitch, would be equally hard fought, and provided David with the opportunity to exhibit a lusty death-or-glory batting style and medium-paced left-arm bowling. In later years the game, though still hard fought, took second place to the feverish competition in the preceding weeks to recruit capable ringers. Not that either of them had difficulty finding players. Those who played have idyllic recollections of the games.

      The brothers, who shared a room, always got on well, teasing one another and fighting playfully enough. Their sister Tania, sandwiched in between, had to be something of a tomboy if she was to join in the fun, or else she played with Clare, six years her junior. An exception to this was horse riding, which Alex and Tania took to with enthusiasm, but which David, at that stage at least, didn’t enjoy to the same degree. The prevailing mood seems to have been one of contentment, rarely broken by parental displeasure. The boys went away to school from the age of seven, where a more explicit discipline would be taught, and the school holidays were something of a refuge from the pettiness of school. In any event, growing up with a large garden in a secluded part of Berkshire ensured that parental strictures would be minimal.

      Yet there was always a keenness not to disappoint. Those close to the family remember few occasions when either parent was moved to anger. Both of them exerted an implicit but benign authority, an enviable degree of control, which meant that the children always knew where they stood. If standards had not been met, a quiet ‘I see’ and a knowing glance would be sufficient. Indeed, this seems to have been enough to instil a strong desire to succeed, to win parental approval. ‘In some homes, where there are bright children, they can get the better of the father, but Ian was definitely the boss – he ruled the roost,’ says a friend. It was, says Susan Rathbone, the widow of David Cameron’s godfather, ‘quite a tight household…you wouldn’t get away with just lounging on the sofa. No beer cans on the carpet. It was a lovely, comfortable, delicious home, but there was no slacking.’

      This was true of school reports too, when the formality of the process alone would imply a certain seriousness. The children would be called in to see their father, who would read out the report before they had a chance to see it. Disapproval did not have to be obvious to be effective. It was clearly spelt out, though, on at least one occasion when, a family friend remembers, Ian had been informed of a misdemeanour at Eton. David Cameron was firmly told that his father was not paying the hefty school fees in order for him to break school rules.

      While all families go through friction and periods of stress – and the Camerons have had their share of crosses to bear – their friends speak uniformly of their readiness to support one another. Neither parent can be said to be dominant, and David Cameron appeared to be equally respectful towards both. Ian and Mary Cameron ‘have a good, healthy relationship, thoroughly solid and practical’, says Susan Rathbone. ‘It’s a great image of marriage he has grown up with. They’re just very good at dealing with life.’ A former girlfriend of David agrees: ‘His parents are very cool, settled in themselves, very calm and sure of themselves. There are no psychological issues there. There’s something very wholesome, but not in a boring way.’ For Giles Andreae, whose mother had been a debutante with the young Mary Mount and who is one of David’s lifelong friends, there is something almost intimidating about the Camerons’ partnership: ‘That couple, they’re both so self-assured and magnanimous. They have so many friends. It’s almost quite scary if you’re not very confident yourself.’

      While the parents wanted their children to be aware of how privileged they were, it must have been difficult for a playful, popular little boy to imagine how different ‘real life’ was for the majority of the population. In this Eden of cricket matches and gambolling through fields, it would have been understandable if the Cameron children had taken it for granted that the world is a pretty happy place. ‘It is a very natural age,’ says Giles Andreae, now a writer of children’s books. ‘Obviously you are aware that some people have big houses and some people have small houses, and that not everyone spends their time swimming and playing tennis. Privilege in itself is not a bad thing, it is how you deal with it that matters.’

      The house of David Cameron’s childhood is now owned by his elder brother Alex, who lives there with his wife and children. Gwen Hoare, for whom the family built a flat in the Old Rectory’s stables (she had her eighty-sixth birthday in February 2007), is thus seeing a third generation of the family grow up. Ian and Mary Cameron live in a smaller house abutting its grounds. Both remain a strong influence on their now famous son. ‘Mary is one of the most compassionate people I know,’ says Susan Rathbone. ‘She’s level headed, not remotely impressed by froth and completely no nonsense.’

      In the early 1990s Ian Cameron had to have one of his legs amputated and replaced by a prosthetic one, and in early 2006 he had the other one amputated, but as ever he minimised the inconvenience. In the latter year, he got an infection in one eye following an operation and lost the use of it. With two prosthetic legs and a walking stick, friends say admiringly, Ian would now, just, and with some reluctance, own up to being ‘disabled’. Giles Andreae says, ‘Ian is one of the most confident and self-assured people I have ever met. I don’t remember his disability ever being an issue. It wasn’t that it was not discussed out of good manners, it just wasn’t an issue. He’s a breezy, sociable, outgoing, affable man. Those are the qualities that would have had more effect on David.’ Yet the influence of Ian’s disability was enormous, if unstated. For a start, the children had a constant reminder that the petty everyday complaints of childhood were minor indeed. ‘Whingeing wasn’t on the menu,’ says one family member. It may be that Ian Cameron, while seeking to impart certain values, was anxious to protect his sons from the pressures – emotional and financial – that he had felt when growing up. ‘[David’s] parents were fantastic,’ says Pete Czernin, an Eton friend. ‘They were never pushy with their children; they gave them all implicit confidence without cockiness.’

      Yet, for all the lack of witting parental pressure to succeed, Ian’s unstated determination made him a hard man to live up to. Without wishing it, he set a high bar. Susan Rathbone agrees that, tacitly, a standard was set. There may be, she says, ‘a subconscious drive that Dave has got from Ian’s incredible example. Ian has vast enthusiasm – which Dave has inherited – and a sort of unstoppableness which I’m sure is very inspirational to live with.’ When he was thirteen, Cameron is said to have told a friend: ‘He is my role model. Dad has never let his disability hold him back. He has proved you can do anything you want in life.’

       HEATHERDOWN Prep school 1974–1979

      At the age of seven David Cameron was sent to Heatherdown СКАЧАТЬ