The first month

There is a phrase helicopter pilots use when too much information about wind direction, height, stability, rotor speed, and where exactly the winchman is dangling, comes streaming into the cockpit.

The pilots are not going to admit to themselves or anyone else that the aircraft might fall out of the sky while they’re dealing with all this other stuff. They merely say they are “task saturated”.

That’s what the first few weeks of being an MP have been like.

As a candidate you can only think of the finish line. Even after campaigning for a year and half, you dare not plan anything for the day after the election, except maybe to make sure you have a shirt ironed.

 Heading into the last stretch in July, amid the intensity of day and night campaigning, I realised that win or lose, I was having the time of my life.

Coming home to stand for Labour and reconnecting to places and people I used to know three decades ago as a journalist on the Free Press was one of the best decisions I ever made.

 Travelling the length of the islands, getting a window into people’s lives – the good bits and the bad – was an incredible journey. It didn’t matter that it was the dullest June in 98 years, every corner driven, every doorstep exchange and encounter on the way to the finish line enhanced the experience.

I’m sure this is felt by every winning candidate, but gaining the support of the majority of voters is a humbling moment.   

I’m incredibly grateful for the trust people have placed in me, but the sense of responsibility it brings, – to represent, to deliver,  to be accountable – is a weight you feel immediately. That’s particularly true as I know many people put aside their voting habits and their party loyalties to vote for change and a connection to a new government.

That the campaign was free from rancour is a tribute to all the candidates who took part and to the voters.  Angus MacNeil, who gave public service to the islands as MP for 19 years, bowed out with charm and dignity. Susan Thomson, who continues to represent her community as a councillor, was the epitome of a campaigning candidate, sticking to the policy, polite with people and a straight dealer.  

At the count in Stornoway Sports Centre, most people did not watch the results come in on television. Most eyes were on the flight radar app tracking the plane which, slowly but surely, flew to Benbecula to pick up the ballot boxes and flew back again to the count. It was a reminder, if needed, of the transport stretch and the challenges the islands face to remain connected to each other.

It was a long night, and a  short speech, but great to step out of the soulless games hall into the new dawn.

That morning, after a shower and an ironed shirt, I flew to Glasgow to meet the other 36, count them, Scottish Labour MPs. I was warmly greeted at the venue by old friends in the Scottish press pack. Many of my new colleagues, the politicians, I did not recognise.

So there, on a low photo-shoot podium on the banks of the Clyde, I suppose I slipped off my old journalistic identity and crossed over to becoming a professional politician.

The platform on which we jostled for position was wide but not deep, which I felt was a metaphor for what happened the previous day. Labour did tremendously well across Scotland, and across the whole UK, but my sense is that we now have to prove ourselves to voters and that feeling was shared by colleagues as we chatted.

Euphoric, or was it exhausted, I returned home to see my family. My mother, when asked if she was proud of her son, replied, as mothers diplomatically do: “I’m proud of all my children.”  She paused for effect, before adding: “And my grandchildren too.”

 No one can make it on their own and the personal support of family and friends, and the goodwill of party activists and volunteers is worth so much that you know it cannot be repaid.

The scale of the Labour victory only became apparent when the 411 Labour MPs assembled in Church House, close to Parliament, to be greeted by the now Prime Minister, Keir Starmer. Unburdened of the risks of campaign, he was relaxed, spoke with ease instead of the caution he adopted on the long road to power. Every time I’ve heard him speak since, he has grown in stature and confidence.

The Scottish MPs were invited to Downing Street to meet the Prime Minister. Walking up the famous street is quite overwhelming. I’ve been through the black door many times as a political journalist, but this felt quite different.

That has been true of much of the first few weeks, the same but different all the time. The drama of the Commons, the splendour of the Westminster Palace, crumbling as it is, the dashes of colour and the hidden crannies are not new to me but I have stepped through the looking glass. 

Previously, I was watching the game, now I am on the pitch.

There is an incredible sense of optimism on the crammed government benches, the sense of purpose of Ministers, many of whom have been on a long march through years of opposition, and the feeling that this government really will make a difference to people’s lives. It is exciting, and it’s going to be quite a ride.

There are boring bits, of course. Being onboarded to any large institution is a major task but having to balance the mundane aspects of computer tech and bureaucracy with the arcane and often unwritten traditions of the Commons is a lot to take on. The first rule I broke was to sit at the Tory end of the Members’ tearoom, which is more spacious and has more tables. Stuff that, I thought, they’re down to 121 MPs, they don’t need all that room to themselves.

There are, as I write, a long list of to-dos and an even longer list of unanswered e-mails and correspondence. I’m sure those same helicopter pilots have a phrase for asking people to bear with them as they sort themselves out. I just say please be patient with me.

One of the first tasks is to find an office in the constituency and hire staff to help me deal with voters’ needs. I’m sifting through the administration guidance and, if the rules allow, I will look to hire parliamentary case workers in Uist and Lewis to make sure that the whole of Na h-Eileanan an Iar is served by its new MP.