The collapse of the 1931 government, and the desertion of its leading members, dragged Attlee to the centre, and he became Deputy Leader under Lansbury. There was no one else, and the man who most passionately wanted the job, Herbert Morrison, lost his seat in 1931. It says a lot for the hard work Attlee had always put in that his East London heartland was never threatened, even during the worst times. Moreover, he was elected leader, when illness took Lansbury, quite fairly and robustly, not once but twice, with decisive majorities. The longer he occupied the job, the better his qualities of objectivity, fairness, respect for majority opinion and masterly handling of difficult and varying factions, were appreciated, particularly by the trades union men and, above all, Ernest Bevin. Lacking egoism or conceit of any kind, and plainly motivated by steady impulses of patriotism, loyalty and common sense, Attlee was a leader both of the party in opposition and in the wartime coalition, who slowly but surely built up a capital of trust. There were plenty of plots against him, at all times, but none seriously got off the ground. And it was clear he enjoyed existence, in his modest way.

One reason was that Attlee led a flourishing private life which brought him many consolations. He loved the family in which he grew up, and regularly corresponded with his closest brother, Tom, for over 60 years. Then, in due course, he met and married his wife Violet, and had a family with her which was close, affectionate and interested him. Attlee was in no sense effervescent. But he was not dull. He read on average four books a week, of every kind, including a wide range of fiction, from Trollope to Austen. He read, learned by heart, recited and enormously enjoyed poetry of all kinds but particularly Keats, Tennyson and Kipling. Moreover, throughout his life he wrote verses of his own, and sent them round the family. He tried his hand at fiction, too, and essays, satire and a variety of prose forms. There was even talk of making a movie. He was never bored or at a loss for things to do. But nothing was allowed to take the place of work, which was despatched with meticulous regard for order, regularity, accuracy, foresight and long-term consequences — all the virtues of an upright chancery lawyer.

Indeed, it was Attlee’s qualities as a first-class lawyer which made him the perfect partner of Churchill in their wartime coalition. It was his merit that allowed him to perceive, and accept, the Prime Minister’s moments of greatness, which were at their most intense during key meetings of the Cabinet, and allow them full play. But equally, Attlee perceived when it was necessary to shut the engine off, and for all the Cabinet to get on with essential business. Happily, no one was ever more rigorous or successful in managing business than Attlee, or making sure it was done expeditiously and well. The two men, the uncontrollable genius and the matchless operator of routine, made an inspired duo.