It is in the context of this battle for her survival as an MP, say friends, that she felt she had no choice but to join the protest, however unpopular it made her with cabinet colleagues.
Her quickfire defence of her decision to join the protest belies her reputation, in Matthew Parris’s words, of being “Tony Blair’s little ray of sunshine”.
However, something about Blears is changing. In a rare hint that she is more vulnerable than her brittle public persona, she admits the barrage of criticism has left her bruised: “I do feel hurt. I am a person, not a thick-skinned rhinoceros. It is very hurtful to be called a hypocrite, when what I'm doing is my damnedest to make sure local people get a fair deal.”
It is uncharacteristic for her to express such emotions. Blears is definitely getting softer. Look at her hair: a boyish crop is giving way to a pretty feathery fringe. Her make-up seems more feminine and flattering and — it may be my imagination — but isn’t that familiar yappy voice giving way to slightly slower, softer tones?
Is this a make-over in preparation for a deputy leadership bid? “There is no contest at present. Lots of people are pressing me to stand, which is lovely, but there isn’t a contest and I’m going to get on with this job.”
That is her official line — but I think the Christmas party she threw for journalists at her Whitehall offices earlier this month tells a different story. The room was decorated with real holly and ivy, there was mood lighting and Christmas carols played gently in the background as guests tucked into quality canapés. Blears was dressed to impress in a glamorous evening frock. She diligently worked the room, rushing back to the party after she was forced to leave to vote on a three-line whip.
Contrast that with the rival Whitehall party of the night — thrown by Hewitt at the Department of Health. It was held in a soulless room with strip lighting and not a Christmas bauble or piece of tinsel in sight.
If Blears does stand for John Prescott’s job, she is widely considered to have a serious chance of success — especially if, as is expected, the BBC moves to Salford Quays, part of Blears’s constituency. This will be a coup for the local economy.
There is also a strong appetite among Labour MPs and activists for a woman to win the post. As party chairwoman, she is in a better position than Harriet Harman, the only other female candidate in the frame at present, to gather support.
However, it would be unfair to suggest she would land the job just because Gordon Brown needs a lady with a common touch to offset his Scots gruffness. Her meteoric rise through government — she has been an MP only since 1997 — shows she is a serious operator. After a career as a solicitor and local councillor in Salford and Wigan, she was elected in the Labour landslide; became parliamentary private secretary to Alan Milburn the year after; was made a junior health minister in 2001; was promoted to minister of state in the Home Office in 2003. In May this year, later than many expected, she reached the cabinet as Labour party chairwoman.
One of her political heroines is Barbara Castle, the former Labour cabinet minister who blazed a trail for women in politics: “I used to drive her around. She was quite a character. For Barbara everything was a battle. For me the bit of Barbara that was the best inspiration was her saying that socialism isn’t an economic theory, it is about the quality of human relationships. That’s my politics. If you get the relationships right, you can take people on a real journey.”
Heavy stuff. But Blears is in reflective mood: “It’s why the allegations of being a hypocrite are hurtful, because I’ve spent nearly 30 years building political relationships in my life and those are very precious to me.”
Dorothy, Blears’s mother, was a secretary; Arthur, her father, was a factory fitter at a bakery and an AEU shop steward. As a woman, has it been harder for her to get where she is today? “I think everyone gets a hard time,” she says. “I don’t think it’s any worse or better, really, though sometimes the criticism of women politicians is more personal.”
Her role of ensuring that the Labour party is re-elected allows her to speak out on a wide range of issues. One issue bothering her is immigration — which she believes could seriously damage Labour support.
“I had a meeting recently with the ex-prime minister of Denmark, who is now president of the European Socialist party. He said that after his party lost the election, a poll showed that 75% of the people who didn’t vote for the party didn’t do so because of immigration. This is a problem facing parties of the left all across Europe.”
At the Home Office she was responsible for tackling antisocial behaviour. Despite her efforts, this New Year’s Eve is expected to see the usual orgy of binge drinking.
“I don’t know whether we’ll ever get a European drinking culture, where you go out and have a single glass of wine,” she says. “Maybe it’s our Anglo-Saxon mentality. We actually enjoy getting drunk. I think there is a bit about risk-taking — people want to push the limits. I don’t think there are any easy answers.”
In what little spare time she has, Blears is an accomplished tap dancer, a “bit of fun and relaxation” from her high-pressure job. She also loves motorbikes: “My husband has five motorbikes in the garage. One of them is mine, but it’s not been out for a few months. It is a little Italian bike. My husband and I had our very first date in December and I remember he brushed the snow off the seat. Very romantic!”
That was in the 1980s and the bike was later sold. Recently her sentimental husband bought it back: “It’s one of those in the garage. It’s retired. It doesn’t move.”
Unlike its owner, who is clearly wants to move onwards and upwards — fast.
