Nadine Dorries goes back to the future

Gather round children, gather round. Those of you that happen upon this post and want to stay, that is. It is high time that I illuminated the plight of a towering political figure whose struggle has remained hitherto concealed, by the light of the fire.

I speak of course, of Nadine Dorries. 'Who?' some of you may be wondering. 'Why?' is likely the question in a great many minds. I fear that all the fire-toasted snacks in the world could not move me to answering the first question. The second, however...

The lady Dorries is known well for her anti-abortion views. These are what characterise her as a politician, despite a stint on I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here and her recent move into literature (fun fact, her publisher said: "Nadine is one of the most naturally gifted storytellers I have ever come across, with a magical ability to create characters you believe in and a heart-stopping way with words" which brings a tear to the eye when we recall the harsh judgement meted out upon her admission that her MP's blog was '70% fiction'... oh Nadine, the bushel could not but release your light into the world!).

The explanation that Nadine gives for her anti-abortion stance is that while working as a nurse, she "assisted on two seriously botched abortions." Let the evil of mind alone suggest that perhaps her having something to do with them might have resulted in this being the case, or that this is a fictional account. This ever-onward Christian crusadamentalist soldier has, in her grace, kept the truth from us all.

Let the 'official' explanation fall by the wayside, like a heartless feminazi woman seeking abortion, as we travel back... to 1985.

Nadine had dreams, big dreams. She was Bargery back then, and Nadine Bargery had a mind to become a rock star professional attention-seeker servant of the public. Her mother regularly combated the alcohol-related wiles of Mancunian scum Frank Gallagher, while her father was bullied at work by Beefy of Beefy and Lamby fame. Her attempt to wow the cool crowd with a speech on why conservatism should be taught in school met with rejection. One night at dinner, her mother recounted how she had fallen in love with her father when she returned from the shops to find him guarding the hubcaps of her car, which had been mysteriously removed.

Nadine found herself resolved to go see her friend, 'Dr.' Amateur Crown. She found him lying in repose, his head nudging a window display for Boots.
'Whatthufuksyou wan'?' he asked.
'Oh Doc,' she replied merrily. 'You silly sausage! I came because you said you had something for me. Remember -' and her voice dropped, 'you said it would make everything better so that I could receive the recognition that is my right and further the work of Jesus.'
'Jesus', he agreed, staring at her, his eyes bulging. Just then, they heard a loud bang.

Before Nadine could even process what had happened fully, she was running, the keys clutched in her hand as 14-year-olds set about the good doctor. God had shown them that she had neither Special Brew, nor rollies. She hurriedly unlocked the door and dived into the car...

Once she had driven for about 15 minutes, she decided it was safe to exit the car. She tentatively unlocked the door and stepped out. Yes, this was Blatherington Avenue, alright, but something seemed wrong. Then it hit her - why worry? She was just a conduit for God to use. She began walking, heading down two streets and turning a corner before she saw him. A rather good-looking man, knelt by a blue Rover, adjusting something near the tyre. Three hubcaps lay beside him.

'Hello!' she trilled out, running over to him. 'Could you give me the time?' As he looked her in the face, her heart pounded. Those blue eyes had such familiarity in them, that gloriously ruddy face with the slightest suggestion of raw chicken... He was staring at her too, his expression almost fearful.
'Fuckin' 'ell'. She blushed and lowered her gaze at the profanities, before noting that he was indicating her Cyndi-Lauper-influenced blonde locks and the modest, yet attractive boat neck of her sequinned leotard.
'Yes,' she breathed, stroking her neck, 'I am the chosen. I must be heard, and more importantly, seen.'
'Well, you can't go wrong wi' that, darlin'.'

Darlin'! She felt the spirit of Jesus rise up from somewhere below her navel and propel her hand towards him, even as her voice emerged huskily from within: 'Take me... take me to the nearest Salvation Army.'
His eyes were wider than ever. 'You want the Sally Army? That's quite a walk, that is.'
The spirit of Jesus tugged him towards her, hurriedly back towards the car and she felt as if she could speak in tongues as she cried out 'God will guide us. ONWARD CHRISTIAN SOLDIERS!!!'

In the car, as she followed his directions, she listened in a manner that seemed to her uncharacteristic of most people, with a saintlike composure and godly generosity while the spirit of Jesus gave her trembling bumps inside her bra. For some reason, he was talking about another woman. This 'Lozza' was apparently someone he had seen around town, and he was considering telling her to 'get her coat...'
'Then I sees ya, and I'm thinking twice.'
She pulled over and turned to face him. 'Whatever do you mean?'
He had mashed his face to hers before she could think of Mother Teresa. The spirit of Jesus was at work again below her navel and clearly it had touched his heart also.

Suddenly, she heard the voice of God in her head, a klaxon of barking dogs and tuneful angels: 'ABSTAIN! ABSTAIN, NADINE! THIS IS THE WORK OF SIN AND DEVILRY!'
She broke apart from him. 'Tell me more about Lozza... That sounds like what my dad calls my mum. Joe and Lozza.'
'Oh, that's funny, in't it?' he said. 'My name's George, but I get called Joe all the time. I din't even introduce meself. The name's Joe Bargery.'
She looked at him with sudden foreboding. 'Joe... tell me what year it is.'
'1955, star-tits.'

The spirit of Jesus was pounding in the back of her head as she screamed 'Get out! GET OUT! GO BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM!'
'Alright, keep yer pants on. Although I won't mind if you don't! Haha.'
God's voice in her head again made her calm down. 'Look, can you just go back to the hubcaps? It's 10 minutes up the road, I know, but what if someone steals them?'
'SHITE, you're right. I'd forgotten about 'em!' He leapt from the car like a man possessed, and took off running.

Let us pause a moment to savour our lightly-charred corn-cobs. I see some of you fretting about needing the toilet - hush! Our tale is soon to draw to a close.

After this, Nadine told me that she turned the car round and drove back the way she had come at speed, whilst reciting the names of every Catholic saint she could remember, with her eyes shut tight. When she opened her eyes, it was (thanks, Jesus!) 1985 again. She returned home, it was time for dinner and she decided to ask her mother about her parents' meeting. To her horror, the story had changed to include mention of a 'freaky blonde bint with problems' who had almost come between them, but as her mum proudly said, 'he loved me and he came back for those hubcaps.'

The spirit of Jesus was in her ear, telling it was all going to be alright now, as this sunk in, but in her dreams that night, she saw a face that looked like a merger of her younger father's and Jesus's. The thrumming in her bra and 'down there' below her navel recommenced as it spoke to her:
'Nadine Bargery... this has been your great test. You were almost guilty of the Greatest Sin of All. You almost prevented your own birth. This is a disgusting and unthinkable thing for a woman to do. Can you imagine the consequences if women must not be forced to bear the mark of their shame for all eternity? Women will become men with breasts and men will have sex with men and them as they will lose their womb-blessed cares... Woman as you know her will cease to exist.'
'The horror,' Nadine gasped.
'Indeed. Now you know why you are my Chosen. Go forth unto politics and the media, and Nadine...'
'Yes?' she panted.
'I don't know what you're doing, but stop that. I am your father!'

And lo, he faded away, leaving only a pair of suspicious-feeling underwear and a zealous devotion in the bed and heart of the Lady Bargery... later to become Dorries. Now my children, now you know how Nadine almost did come to prevent her own birth, but with the power of abstinence, was able to go Back to the Future and self-expose devote herself to saving us from ourselves. For we are but sin-holes into which men must veer from falling, like a motorbike in the presence of potholes.