The Hotpress workload is nothing if not diverse. Two hours ago I was gabbing to Nicky Wire about the Manics playing in the centre-circle before Wales’ 2-1 smiting of Italy, and now I’m meeting the cause of the year’s other Major upset, Edwina Currie.

Like everyone else in Sky Newsland, I was flabbergasted when details of Mrs Currie’s four-year affair with the former Conservative Prime Minister were made public. It wasn’t until she appeared on the box herself that I was willing to rule out the possibility of a Chris Morris-style hoax. The gray man of Westminster getting jiggy with the vilest female in Britain (© Express Newspapers)? Fancy!

She may have received the sort of post-revelation press that even Rosemary West would balk at, but Edwina Currie in person is an enticing proposition. Warm, witty and intelligent, you can understand how she’s managed to snare not only John Major but two husbands. She separated from the first, Ray Currie, in 1997 after 29 years together and married the second, John Jones, a retired detective, in 1999.

Raised in a ’50s Liverpool that didn’t care one way or the other about her family being Jewish, Edwina went to the same secondary school as George Harrison and Paul McCartney, and later squeezed into The Cavern to watch them and the rest of The Beatles. Her political awakening came in the Oxford Union Debating Society when she locked horns with among others “that awful Ian Paisley.” She entered the House of Commons in 1983 as MP for Derbyshire South and within two years was promoted to Junior Health Minister in Margaret Thatcher’s Cabinet. While warm and affectionate towards Thatcher, she’s scathing about both those she sat around the Cabinet table with, and some of the Baroness’ closest aides. It’s not definitive whether or not Thatcher knew about the illegal taste for teenage boys that was shared by Peter Morrison and the Conservative MP, Harvey Proctor. But it’s hard to imagine how she could have remained blind to the predilection. When the interview is done, I ask Edwina if she feels she should have done more as both a politician and a mother to blow the whistle on Morrison and Proctor. The answer is “yes”.

Having won plaudits for introducing breast cancer screening on the NHS, Currie went and undid the good work by making the comments about salmonella-infected eggs that forced her to resign her Cabinet post in 1988. She was unseated at the 1997 general election and quit party politics to concentrate on her burgeoning career as a novelist. It’s to be noted that her first best seller, A Parliamentary Affair, told the supposedly fictitious story of an MP whose ex-lover becomes Conservative Prime Minister. At around the same time, she was asked to present her own chat show on BBC Radio 5, which goes out on Saturday and Sunday and has numbered David Ervine, Bertie Ahern and Martin McGuinness among its recent guests.

Having been tipped off that Hot Press is a music magazine, Currie is keen to establish her rock ‘n’ roll credentials. I’m not adverse to a spot of journalistic foreplay myself, so…

STUART CLARK: Tell us about your youthful dalliance with The Fab Four.

EDWINA CURRIE: They were a bit older than me because Paul has just had his 60th birthday but, yes, I was a regular at The Cavern and saw The Beatles, Gerry & The Pacemakers, The Big Three and Billy J. Kramer who I thought was absolutely gorgeous. When he stopped singing, though, he was as thick as a plank. I was more ambitious than that! Compared to today, it was all very innocent. I can honestly say that I never saw anybody there smoking joints or popping pills. If you were up to no good, you headed down to Yates’ Wine Bar! I’m not sure about conquering the world but we knew The Beatles were special.

SC: You’d get on like a house on fire with Noel Gallagher.

EC: I don’t think so! Given that he’d just been convicted of a drugs offence (Actually it was Liam, S.C.) it was a serious mistake on Tony Blair’s part inviting him into Number 10. It’s humbug and hypocrisy to have as an honoured guest somebody who’s not just offering a bad example to youngsters but a very dangerous one. People die all the time from what he’s doing. The Gallagher brothers may be musically gifted but they don’t strike me as anything but rotten people. I don’t mean that pop stars should be whistle-clean – we used to admire The Rolling Stones and Mick Jagger never treated a woman well in his life – but they should have some sense of responsibility.

SC: Oasis were a bit more successful in bringing in the youth vote, though, than Jim “Nick Nick” Davidson.

EC: Yes! The Tory Party is a million miles from bringing in the youth vote, and will be until there’s a wholesale change in the way parliamentary candidates are chosen. What selection committees have been doing is picking the guys they like, but who come across to everybody else as wet lunatics.

SC: I notice that your Late Night Currie guests have yet to include Ian Paisley. Would that have something to do with you hating the man?

EC: I wouldn’t go as far as saying I hate Ian Paisley, but no, I wouldn’t be a fan of his. Paisley, in 1968, was making speeches in the Oxford Union where I was a student. He came with a bunch of thuggish-looking men who had large “Jesus Saves!” badges on their lapels, and looks on their face that said, “If He doesn’t sort you out, we will!” Their whole approach was extremely intimidating. All I could think of looking at these deeply unpleasant people was Oswald Mosley and his blueshirts. You don’t win the argument in the long run through that sort of aggression.

SC: Given your disdain for Ian Paisley, it must perturb you that there are such strong links between hardline Unionism and the Conservative Party.

EC: While Andrew Hunter announcing that he’s switching to the DUP after 20 years as a Tory MP doesn’t overly impress me, I’m never offended by the expression of a political opinion within the democratic process. Which is why I shook hands with Gerry Adams last week. We were in the same Sky studio and I thanked him – and his minder – for generously supplying my programme with spokesmen. I wouldn’t have done that prior to him denouncing violence.

SC: Were you there in 1985 when the IRA bombed the Conservative Party Conference in Brighton?

EC: Yes, I was in the next door hotel to the one that was destroyed. It was only the second conference I’d been to as a backbencher and I was as shocked and angered as I think I had every right to be. A lady from Arkansas recently asked me, “Do you Brits feel the same way about September 11 as we do?” To which I replied, “Yes, for two reasons. The first is that we lost people in the Twin Towers too, and the second is that we know what it’s like to be blown up ourselves. And by the way, if your President means what he says about fighting terrorism, will you please tell him from all of us to stop giving sanctuary to killers.” Which is precisely what Republicans and Loyalists who haven’t put their bombs and guns away – and their apologists – are.

SC: Did you agree with Margaret Thatcher when, during her Prime Ministerial tenure, she described the likes of Martin McGuinness as common criminals?

EC: You can be both a sincere politician and a criminal. It is extremely difficult in tense times to stick to democratic ways. Which is why I have admiration, of a sort, for the likes of David Ervine who’ve renounced terrorism and taken their communities with them. The great shame – the criminal shame – is that the realisation’s come 30 years after it should’ve done.

SC: The Labour Party were none-too-secretly relieved last year when the Conservatives opted for Iain Duncan-Smith as leader instead of Michael Portillo. Do you agree that overlooking the party’s only statesmanlike politician was a mistake?

EC: Michael Portillo had an agenda when he was trying to become leader. Having won the first and second votes, he lost the third to a coalition of reactionaries. Being reactionary is a legitimate viewpoint but it doesn’t actually get us very far. I got angry with Michael because he denied that he was gay or bisexual, and implied it was something you do when you’re young and foolish. All my gay friends – and I’ve quite a few of them – tell me that their sexual orientation isn’t a matter of choice, it just is. The “young and foolish” business suggested to me that Michael hadn’t worked out in his own mind what or who he was. He has a stable marriage – he and Caroline love and depend on each other – so it may be that he’s bisexual. Who knows? It’s their business anyway. What I do think is important is that in 1994 he voted for 21 as the age of homosexual consent. I have letters from people who knew him better than I did saying that he should never have done that.

SC: Gay militants would argue that when MPs are that grossly hypocritical they deserve to be outed.

EC: No, there’s enough misery in the world without outing people. I do believe, though, in creating a society in which your sexual orientation doesn’t matter. Being able to do your job properly and with compassion does. That’s the kind of thing I strived for as a politician.

SC: As somebody who preaches social equality, how did you find working with Alan Clark? A man, lest we forget, who bragged about bedding a mother and her two daughters.

EC: If women didn’t like sexist pigs, there wouldn’t be any. Alan Clark’s charms were lost on me, but obviously there were other women who found them a turn on.

SC: Alan Clark, Leon Brittan, Norman Lamont… the men you served alongside in government were a pretty unedifying bunch, weren’t they?

EC: There were times I looked round the table and thought, “Gosh, I’m keeping some funny company here!” but I was more interested in policies than personalities. If you were only capable of working effectively with people who were your friends, no government would last more than five minutes.

SC: You obviously admired Margaret Thatcher as a politician, but what about as a person?

EC: I liked her enormously. She was warm. She was funny. She was kind. All her staff adored her. She was consistent. She had very good manners. I’ll give you an example – whenever she was appointing or dismissing ministers, she would always see them in person and alone. There were no private secretaries, nobody. When a reshuffle was taking place and people were being sacked or demoted, she’d ask if they wanted to come in and leave by the back way so they wouldn’t have to face the press. When John Major appointed or got rid of people, you’d find yourself sitting in a room with staff. You couldn’t have a private conversation. It never occurred to him that that’s no way to treat your colleagues.

SC: Is it true that in order to keep them wrapped round her finger, Maggie would flirt outrageously with certain male ministers?

EC: Oh yes. She used whatever she needed to bring people on board, including flirting. Where friends and colleagues were concerned, Margaret preferred gentle coercion to being ruthless. It was different with opponents, especially if there was a genuine dislike or hatred. She would never, ever have given Neil Kinnock a hug or wished him well. She thought they were dreadful, dreadful people. If she trusted somebody inappropriately, though, nobody dared tell her. She appointed Peter Morrison as her Private Parliamentary Secretary, her closest aide – he’s dead now so we can admit that Peter liked young teenage boys. None of whom has ever told the tale so they must have thought well of him. Nobody was brave enough to say to her, “Margaret, you can’t do that! Peter’s breaking the law, exploiting young people.”

SC: You’re saying that pretty much everybody knew about Peter Morrison but weren’t prepared to alert Margaret Thatcher?

EC: Everybody knew. Everybody but Margaret.

SC: What about Harvey Proctor, the former MP for Billericay in Essex. Did you know about his predeliction for spanking rent boys before he was caught?

EC: Yes, that was partly because he used to boast about it. If you don’t boast about it, you don’t get found out.

SC: It’s okay to be spanking young boys as long as the papers don’t get hold of it. Was that Margaret’s attitude?

EC: If it makes it to the papers, it’s not okay. She was very good about this. What you do in your private life is your affair, as long as it stays private.

SC: And legal?

EC: Umm, yes, I think so. I don’t think she’d have been too keen on MPs toking cannabis, but they didn’t tell her that either! There were lots of things you didn’t tell Margaret. But she was aware of how good people can still get into a mess. She was the second Mrs. Thatcher. She married a divorced man. She never at any time pointed at other people and said, “You should lead a traditional family life”, because she’d taken a divorced man home to meet her Methodist parents and it was clear they didn’t think much of that.

SC: You just admitted that MPs toke cannabis, but were you surprised last year when traces of cocaine were found in the House of Commons toilets?

EC: Is the House of Commons part of the modern world? Of course it is. 10,000 people work there. That said, cocaine use on either side of the house wasn’t something I was aware of. There were whisky and brandy men, though. Each generation has its own sins and the main problem in the House of Commons was alcohol. It was always said that the occupational hazards of being an MP were the three A’s… arrogance, alcoholism and adultery. I used to joke and say you were doing pretty well if you only suffer from one of those.

SC: You appeared to have avoided all of the A’s until you revealed your adulterous affair with John Major. How did you go from being colleagues to lovers?

EC: He was a whip, which meant he was one of the group of colleagues you went to for advice. We had a huge majority and if you asked nicely you could get the night off – we did it on a rota. Because I was only able to get back (to the Midlands) at weekends, I was happy to be in the House. Other colleagues, I felt, should be able to get home, so John and I would spend evenings chatting over a drink, waiting for a vote. He was very good company – intelligent, funny and thoughtful. The friendship became more than that when having made a remark that upset me, he sent me a note saying, “I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.” That night we went home together and he was lovely, absolutely lovely.

SC: Was the attraction as much physical as it was mental?

EC: Yes, it was both. He’s tall, broad and a very pleasant personality to be physically close to. No, he was good news. Very good news. It went on for a long time. I thought the world of him and remain convinced that he thought the world of me. He could’ve stopped it right away if he’d wanted to, but he didn’t.

SC: Was there a time, daydreaming even, when you thought, “Mmmm, Mrs. Major, that’s got a ring to it!”

EC: I don’t think we ever thought about it like that. We both had families that suited us and that we were close to. The kids… when I entered parliament my children were 6 and 8 and even if I’d wanted to, I wouldn’t have made a move while they were little. And I didn’t make a move – you know, acknowledge it in my book – until my younger daughter was 17.

SC: Was there ever any talk of the relationship being permanent?

EC: No, the limited time we had together was spent discussing the excitements of the job. We were two young, strong-minded, committed ministers in a remarkable government. There was a revolution going on in Britain, it was happening day by day and it was at our fingertips.

SC: I don’t know him as intimately as you do, but John Major strikes me as a bit of a Missionary Position man.

EC: I’m not discussing sexual positions with you, Mr. Clark!

SC: You’re not the first woman to say that. I can understand you not wanting to…

EC: (Interrupts) He was not a grey man. Out of the limelight, he was a warmer, funnier, much cleverer, more intelligent person. The moment you put a camera on him he became rather wooden, and that got worse as time went on. He became more and more uncomfortable which lead to the perception of him being dull.

SC: Did he leave his socks on in bed?

EC: (Best "stop being a naughty boy" voice) Look, nobody's interested in that sort of nonsense.

SC: You don’t know what our readers are like! Why choose now to go public about the affair when you could have done it 14 years ago?

EC: There are two truisms in history – one is that it’s written by the winners and the other is that it’s derived from what remains. I knew that sooner or later I would write a history of the time we had lived through. And decide whether or not to tell the whole story or hide some of it. By 2001, there wasn’t any point in hiding things. We’d lost two elections on the trot, the main reason being John Major’s Anti-Sleaze campaign which destroyed a whole government. Whoever suggested making marriage vows the backbone of government is foolish and wrong. In any society – the Republic of Ireland included – the church and the state should be separate. The state’s job is to look after people’s physical wellbeing. Their moral wellbeing is a matter for their conscience. Politicians should not point at people and say, “This is how you should behave.” It’s crazy!

SC: You say that the affair ended by mutual consent in 1988, but do you still have feelings for John Major?

EC: I haven’t seen him in years. His statement – about how he was ashamed and all the rest of it – surprised me. It was very cold and I had thought better of him. I was somewhat ungracious about him a few days after that, but now I’m indifferent. I’m one of the luckiest women alive. I’ve been in politics – including elected office – for 22 years, and written 10 books. I’ve got a radio programme and a TV series underway at the moment and there’s more to come. And I’ve got a wonderful husband and children who I adore and am adored by.

SC: Does it rankle that people are going, “John Major, wahay the boyo!”, while you’re being portrayed as a scarlet lady?

EC: The only scarlet thing about me is my Marks & Spencers suit! Yes, there’s a double standard there. We were two, genuine people working very hard. We weren’t exploiting each other. We were something special together. I helped him a lot. I encouraged him – with other people – to go forward and not be satisfied with the relatively lowly job he had at the time.

SC:Did you have a bit of a chuckle when somebody like David Mellor got caught toe-sucking?

EC: David was expected to fall. He was doing stupid things like running two different diaries at the same time – one for public consumption which had things like “research” on it, and the other for private consumption which showed where he really was! It was a government car driver, fed up with having to park on double-yellow lines in Fulham who eventually shopped him. The message got back, via the civil servants, that Mr. Mellor was misusing the public service in this way. He was so arrogant that he got up people’s noses, and as a result now makes speeches to black-tie dinners.

SC: Were you upset the other day when he described you as “a cheap trollop”?

EC: It takes one to… David would know, wouldn’t he?

SC: Pardon my French but why are so many Conservative men complete shits? Were they born dysfunctional or is it something to do with what went on in the showers at their posh boys’ schools?

EC: (Laughs) I’ve never been in the showers at a posh boys’ school, so I don’t know.

SC: They’re a pretty dreadful bunch, though, aren’t they?

EC: I don’t think I would disagree with that. They’re trying hard to get some good people in, but it’s difficult for the very obvious reason that the Conservative Party does not look set to win 200 seats at the next election. You’re going to fight a seat for two years. You don’t get paid, there are no expenses. It puts your job in jeopardy. You’re not around when you’re needed, half your brain’s somewhere else. You may have to travel some distance. You’ve got to be very committed and dedicated to do that. To want to sit on the back-benches in opposition is a mug’s game, which is not to say that those who are trying to do it are mugs. They’re not. They’re committed and dedicated people, but it helps explain why you get so few who are instantly impressive.

SC: Of course for every Tory husband there’s a Tory wife. A prime example being Lady Archer who on hearing about your affair said: “I am a little surprised, not at Mrs. Currie’s indiscretion, but at a temporary lapse in John Major’s taste.”

EC: She and I were at Oxford together. She was the chemistry scholar who got a First at St. Anne’s in 1964 and I’m the chemistry scholar who arrived the next year, took one look at the labs and thought, “I don’t want to be a chemist!” What we couldn’t understand about Mary Weedon, as she was then, was what did she see in that funny little runt that didn’t even have a degree? I can’t answer that but I do know that with a husband serving four years in jail for perverting the course of justice, she’s in no position to criticise anybody.

SC: So Anne and Jeffrey wouldn’t be top of your Christmas card list?

EC: Never have been. I say in the book that I wouldn’t trust him with last week’s laundry list. I never did. He always seemed to be an odd mixture of completely fraudulent personality and man who had no sense of his own value. He’d done a fantastic amount. He’d come from nothing and was a top novelist making millions. So what if they weren’t very well written? He was a huge success who didn’t have to make up an entire history about himself that wasn’t true. A student at Wellington and Oxford? No, he wasn’t. There were always chancers like him around, but he had more staying power than most.

SC: Anne Widdecombe. Discuss?

EC: Her views are not mine. She believes sex is filthy and she’s wrong. I’m tempted to feel sorry for anybody who thinks that. She has always been anti-abortion in any form. I’m not surprised that she joined the Catholic Church, but I’m not of that opinion and never have been. I feel particularly sorry for Irish women who are obliged to come to Britain in large numbers. If we lived in a perfect world and behaved in a perfect way, there would be no unwanted pregnancies and there would be no abortions. God made the world as he did, though, so let’s get on with it.

SC: What do you make of Sven and Ulrika?

EC: I think I’m on Sven’s side. I hope he doesn’t quit the country. My God, we haven’t got a football manager to match him! It’s also quite clear that his sense of being beleaguered, his sadness, is finding its way back to the team. I think she targeted him. (Adopts Muppets chef accent) “Hello, I’m Swedish, you’re Swedish, let’s go to bed together.” My activities (with John) and those of many other men and women are not like that at all. We were friends for a long time before we became lovers. We were lovers for a long time before we became friends again. Meanwhile, we were working alongside each other, helping each other and I thought that would be the case for the rest of our lives. It wasn’t but I don’t think there’s any long-term damage done. I feel the truth will out and it has.

SC: A female friend of mine reckons that you and Ulrika having sex with somebody and then using that to make money is tantamount to prostitution. Fair comment?

EC: No, that’s not fair partly because I earn a good living doing all the other things I do. The newspapers haven’t paid me – all the money’s gone to my publishers. The book is part of a deal that includes my novels as well, it’s not a one-off kiss ‘n’ tell. Had we known beforehand that John wasn’t going to start throwing lawyers at us, we might have handled it differently. We didn’t, though, which is why there was so much cloak and dagger surrounding the publication.

SC: I’ve saved the most important question for last. Everton or Liverpool?

EC: (Laughs) I was asked that last night in Liverpool itself and was able to say, hand on heart, “Neither!” My youngest stepson, Richard, plays for Stade Français in Paris so ours is a rugby household.

Hell Hath No Fury…

Five ladies who’ve loved but haven’t lost!

Ulrika Jonnson
Don’t get mad, get even… richer! Sven Goran Eriksson ending their affair mightn’t have been good for Ulrika’s ego, but it certainly didn’t do her bank balance any harm. The ex-TV weather girl received £700,000 for the memoirs which detailed their extracurricular activities.

Auntie Beeb
At first she turned the other cheek, but when he went one prostitute too far, the grand old lady of British broadcasting told Angus Deayton his Have I Got News For You days were over.

Cheryl Barrymore
Michael Barrymore is facing perjury charges after his ex-wife suggested that him telling a Coroner’s Court he can’t swim mightn’t be entirely true. Obviously not awight about their divorce, Cheryl is planning to dish the marital dirt in a Channel 5 documentary.

Mary Ellen Synon
The Sunday Indo scribe had plenty to write about in 1995 when her affair with the then Deputy Governor of the Bank of England, Rupert Pennant-Rea, was terminated. The double-barreled one was forced to resign after Synon revealed that they’d swapped bodily fluids in his office.

Lisa “Left Eye” Lopez
Following a particularly heated row with her NFL star fiancé, Andre Rison, the late rapper torched the mansion they were sharing outside Atlanta. The crime of passion defence didn’t work, with Lopez receiving five years probation and a $10,000 fine.