There were tears rolling down her face. All day the press had been hounding her; asking impertinent questions. Deliberately taunting her; taunting her would you believe it; didn't they know who she was? And then in this TV studio, in the Early hours, the interviewer was goading her; so much for impartiality; it had all been too much, she just could not take any more. She had done what she feared. She had broken down; started to blubber; to cry uncontrollably. Here right in the middle of the interview. Right when when she should have stood up straight and walked out; in as dignified a manner as she muster. But no, here she was blubbering and the cameras were rolling; live on air. It was all so undignified; and the tears kept rolling.
Where had it all gone wrong? She had started out wanting to change history, wanting to change the country. It had seemed good at first; difficult, she expect that; difficult and good. Then came the crisis and she grabbed at the chance. The Falklands had seemed such a noble idea; a point of principle; a moral crusade. And a war can boost your popularity; especially if it's a quick one and you win; such cynics.
Then that lucky missile; striking the supply ship like that; it was always a possibility, a risk. But foolishly the Argentines were going more significant vessels. Then that lone pilot went for the easy target. The hit on the supply vessel necessitated taking the risk with the aircraft carrier; and the rest, as they say, was history. That got his; not sunk but disabled; unusable for aircraft. That was it, the war ended in disaster, the task force had to retreat.
All this only seemed to worsen her position at home; made her look week; made her unpopular. And the miners recognised this. The pickets getting stronger. The she had no choice; her hand was forced; she did not want to but she had to give in; give in to the militants.
And that had forced her to call a snap election. So here Thatcher was, in the middle of the night, in a TV studio on the day of the election. The press having hounded her all day. And crying, having lost the election. A broken woman blubbering.