Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. Roy was political to his core. He loved this place more than anyone could possibly imagine. He regularly got quite frustrated with Governments and Prime Ministers. I will always remember arriving at the office on my first day as Chief Whip, and seeing his look of frustration and irritation, which said, “Who on earth have they sent me now? He’s never been in the Whips Office.”
I remember Roy sitting me down and explaining that he worked for me 51% of the time and for the Opposition the other 49%. I wanted him to shift the dial a little more in my favour, but he was never going to do that. I asked him, rather naively, what I should read, and whether it was worth picking up “Erskine May”. He looked at me and said, “Chief, only strange people and Clerks read ‘Erskine May’.” Yet there was a not a page in “Erskine May” that he did not know.
Roy started as an apprentice in the Ministry of Defence, worked his way through to No. 10 Downing Street and got briefings ready for Prime Ministers, and then went into the Whips Office. All that equipped him to understand raw politics. As anyone who has been Chief Whip will know, it is deputies, not Chief Whips, who whip their party; Chief Whips have to manage the Prime Minister and the Cabinet. They are there to save the Government from doing incredibly stupid things to themselves every single day—or that was the case in my day. I have a feeling that might not have changed that much.
I would sometimes come into the office and Roy’s eyes would roll; he had heard the news about the latest decision emanating from No. 10. Yet he would always sit down, talk through the problem and give solutions—a potential way out of the awful mess that you found yourself in. I particularly recall the day after the 2017 general election. For those who were not here, it had not gone quite as well as we had hoped. I arrived at the beautiful Chief Whips Office in Downing Street and Roy, who was as good with his Anglo-Saxon words as any man—I will not say the word he used, but it rhymed with “clucking”—said, “Well, you clucking screwed that one up, didn’t you? What are you going to do?” At the time, the Prime Minister was in shock and not really doing an awful lot, and it fell to the Whips Office to work out how we took things forward. Sitting down with Roy to work things out was essential to our putting together a deal with the Democratic Unionist party—a deal that made sure that the right hon. Member for Islington North (Jeremy Corbyn) did not have the opportunity to form a Government in 2017, or since.
Roy lived and breathed politics, but also cared about nothing more than his family. I would hear him talk with such pride about his daughter at university, and about his son, whom he took to countless events related to swimming, and then to the RAF. Altogether, Roy was a good friend. Just a few weeks ago, I was sitting down with him, having a cup of coffee and talking about his family. We talked about the difficult times, but also the amazing times. He will be so missed.