Eddie banks on the left

Eddie George, the Governor of the Bank of England, is plainly in need of friends in the most unusual of quarters. He has accepted an invitation to address the Campaign Group of hard-left MPs, whose members are the only Labour back-benchers with the nerve to criticise Gordon Brown's Budget. Indeed, one of them, Diane Abbott, has been thrown off the Treasury Select Committee for her impertinence.

However, "Steady Eddie" has agreed to talk to the Campaign Group about monetary theory when the Commons returns after its three-month recess on 31 October. They should be just about ready for a bit of neo-classical endogenous growth by then, and Comrade George might win a few supporters in the forthcoming battle to save his job. It would be an unusual alliance against the Chancellor : the City and the Subversives.

The Campaign Group has had a new lease of life since the general election brought in so many political undesirables. Sorry, traditional socialists. There is even a mother-and-son duo, Ann (widow of Bob) and John Cryer, Keighley and Hornchurch respectively. The group still lists gorgeous Dawn Primarolo, the Treasury minister, as a member, though she quit last year. Friends said she "didn't want to be in opposition when we are in government".

THE DAFT things editors do, part 26. Richard Addis, playing tennis in London, took refuge under a tree when the heavens opened. To his (male, naturally) partner's astonishment, the Old Rugbeian editor of the Express put a plastic bag over his head and made holes for his eyes and mouth. Given the reign of terror at Hollick Towers, Blackfriars, this "now you see me, now you don't" fancy dress could catch on in the newsroom.

PATHETIC, if you ask Creevey. You will remember that the new Labour intake who never thought they'd make it to Westminster decided to form a gang: the Unlikely Lads and Lasses.

More than 80 replied to a circular inviting them to join, and a couple of dozen turned up on the roof garden of Parliament last week for an inaugural meeting. It quickly became clear that the Whips had been busy. The MPs could not call themselves the Unlikely Lads (or Lasses), came the word. It had to be something "less contentious".

So the wimps called themselves Majority '97. Doesn't quite have the same ring about it, somehow. Perhaps their first task should be to find out who is the Whips' snout, and help him or her into the Thames. Kevin Hughes, the Yorkshire MPs' whip whose sense of discipline makes Joe Stalin look like a nursery school teacher, accosted Laurie Quinn, Scarborough and Whitby (Ain't Misbehavin' Tendency) as he left the gathering to boast that he already knew what they had been talking about.

What Creevey would like to know more about is not Majority '97, but this shadowy outfit of new Labour MPs which meets every Wednesday to hear speeches from businessmen as part of an induction process into government. These toadies will be the ministerial class of '99.

JUST goes to show you can't put a bad man down. Spotted at the Buckingham Palace garden party last Thursday among a trough of Tory MPs who lost their seats on May Day: Neil and Christine Hamilton, the terrors of Tatton. Drinks for invitations?

Equally, you can't suppress a good leftie. Jerry Hayes, the exotic Conservative who lost his seat at Harlow, Essex, to the local Sunday football club manager, is now regularly writing for Tribune, the left-wing weekly. He put down Judith Church, up-and-coming Blairite MP, in the Strangers' Bar saying: "Someone has to stick up for socialism!"

GERRY Bermingham QC MP is looking very well despite his double heart attack. So well, in fact, that he is plainly looking for another, having just agreed to become chairman of the Commons All-Party Music Appreciation Group. Such are the diverse musical tastes of MPs, this post ranks with lion- tamers on the scale of risk. Gezza likes anything from classical to C & W. His vice-chairman is Virginia Bottomley (a "Greensleeves" fan?) and his treasurer is Eric Forth, the former Schools minister who is an Elvis freak. Makes pilgrimages to Gracelands and all that. Has a poster of The King on his office wall. But then he does live in the past. He was wandering round the House the other day with his Minister of State red box.

Don't run away with the idea that this all-party music group simply sits around listening to platters over dry sherry. The most sought-after invitations to the Brit awards also come their way, as well as studio visits and the occasional trip to a CD-manufacturing plant. Maybe that accounts for the smile on Gezza's face. Or it could be the immensely flattering newspaper obituary one of his pals in the Lobby sent - quite illicitly - with a get-well card to the Royal Free Hospital.