CLAIRE WARD, THE YOU7NGEST WOMAN MP, BY NEIL ROSEClaire Ward could easily still be a solicitor, to the extent that she is in the office by 8am and is often unable to go home until well into the night.

That she is an MP simply means that she does not have to worry about timesheets.

But presumably party whips achieve much the same effect.Ms Ward -- at 29 the youngest woman MP -- was a trainee solicitor at trade union firm Pattinson & Brewer when she won her Watford seat for Labour in 1997.

She qualified in 1998.Since then, her youth and gender have given her a higher profile than many of the 1997 intake, added to membership of the frontline culture, media and sport select committee.She is also known for her chairmanship of the all-party Commons confectionery and chocolate group.

Is there a danger of becoming known as the MP for fun? 'Being an MP is a very serious job,' she says, 'but you need to have a bit of fun.' It is also something you can get away with in your first term, she adds.She stresses, though, that the group does not spend all its time arguing whether Mars is better than Twix: the industry is a major employer and fair trade is an important issue.Yet it is not a surprise that post-election media talk named Ms Ward as a possible minister for sport.

The Watford season-ticket holder offers the classic political response: 'It's best never to take any notice of speculation.'But having shown her tougher side as a critic of Keith Vaz as part of an internal party investigation into him some years back, the serious stuff is starting.

Earlier this month, Ms Ward was appointed parliamentary private secretary -- the first rung on the ministerial ladder -- to health minister John Hutton.'I'm pleased with what I'm doing because health is a massive issue,' she says.

'If we get this right, not only do we do what people want but it secures the Labour government for the next election.'While Ms Ward has not taken an active interest in legal issues, she says the training has proved useful.

'Apart from the public speaking and confidence, I'm dealing with a whole new kind of client: constituents.' Many of the cases are similar to what she dealt with before, and the skills -- such as negotiating -- are the same.The work can be frustrating, she concedes.

'You've got all these problems people come to you with but sometimes you can't do anything.

You come up against "the system", whether it be the education system, the legal system or whatever.

While the government can change the system, it can't do it overnight and saying [to constituents] that the government is doing X, Y or Z makes no difference to them.'But it is not a shock to learn that Ms Ward finds being an MP better than being a solicitor.

'It's like no other job.

It's pressurised but very self-motivating.

I like the fact that you meet so many people.

Every day is different and you can choose the things you want to do.'With time on her side, a slight swing to her against the national trend in June (her majority is 5,555 over the Tories), and a profession to fall back on should it all go wrong, the future looks bright for Ms Ward.Yet politics is a fickle lover; she points to Peter Mandelson, who entered and left the cabinet twice in one term.

'I never make predictions or set ambitions.

What you realise about politics is that you are not in control.'But surpr isingly, for a member of a party often accused of control-freakery, Ms Ward seems to be making a good fist of being just that.THE LURE OF OLD PROFESSION HELPS TO HEAL O'BRIEN'S WOUNDSMaking the jump from practising criminal law to a ministerial career in the Home Office may not seem to be the most obvious career path, but for Mike O'Brien -- until earlier this year permanent under-secretary at the Home Office -- the transition was painless.A criminal solicitor-advocate for five years until his election to the marginal Labour seat of Warwickshire North in 1992, Mr O'Brien has found his training to be nothing less than a bonus.

'Very often MPs who aren't lawyers tend to be frightened of the law,' he says.

'As with any expertise, there is an assumption by outsiders that there is one way that it should be done, and if an expert tells you that something is the case, non-lawyers tend to accept it.'Having a legal training, and working under Jack Straw -- a barrister -- at the Home Office, was therefore invaluable.

'We put through a huge amount of legislation during my four years at the Home Office,' he says.

'Although the Home Office lawyers were excellent, because I had a legal background I was able to discuss their advice with them, and come to my own conclusions.'As an example, he describes the construction of the racial violence legislation in the Crime and Disorder Act 1998, when 'we were constantly being told by "legal experts" that this couldn't be done.

But we looked at it with Barbara Roche [then immigration minister and a barrister] and realised that in fact it could be.'He makes the point that MPs are making law that has to be eventually interpreted by lawyers, so 'looking at it from a legal angle is vital'.

Despite the fact that 10% of MPs are solicitors or barristers, Mr O'Brien says that 'there should be more lawyers in parliament', although he admits that 'that's probably a rather controversial opinion'.Controversy has become familiar to Mr O'Brien in the past few months, as late last year the Hammond inquiry found that he was likely to be the unfortunate recipient of a phone call from Peter Mandelson enquiring about the progress of Indian tycoon Srichand Hinduja's passport application.

A call that set in motion the chain of events leading to the former Northern Ireland secretary's ignominious departure from government.Mr O'Brien's ministerial career was a casualty of the post-election reshuffle, although various commentators have suggested that he has been made a scapegoat for the Mandelson-Hinduja passport affair.All Mr O'Brien will say about his future career prospects is that the electorate holds all the cards.

'It is in their hands.

If they decide to make me one of the people rather than a servant of the people, then so be it.'If that does happen, then he is in the fortunate position of having a profession to fall back on, and one that he would be glad to re-enter.

'When I was elected, I surprised myself by missing law,' he admits.

'I initially hoped to have time to do the odd case, but that hasn't happened.' Although with an abundance of long hours, regular lengthy speeches and consorting with the occasional shady character, one might think that criminal law and politics are really not that different after all.EAGLE DIGS HER TALONS INTO GOVERNMENT'S DISABILITY SHAKE-UP, BY JEREMY FLEMING'Longer, tougher and harder' is how junior minister Maria Eagle describes life as an MP compared to being a solicitor.

Elected in 1997, the member for Liverpool Garston is now junior minister in the Department fo r Work and Pensions, and her own workload is ratcheting up, she says.Her background as a lawyer helps.

Ms Eagle worked with three Liverpool firms -- Brian Thompson & Partners, Goldsmith Williams, and Steven Irving & Co -- on claimant personal injury, trade union, employment and housing cases.Skills such as handling and managing heavy paperwork and 'not letting it get on top of you' are very transferable, she says.But more importantly, she maintains that understanding statutory interpretation helps.

'A general knowledge of the law is useful when you're legislating -- enabling you to concentrate on what's important and what's not.

It's a skill I certainly use.'Ms Eagle has been given special responsibility for the disabled.

This might seem the kind of job where you can keep your head down and earn useful 'caring and sharing' brownie points.

But two weeks into its new term, the cabinet fired a broadside at the disability benefit regime, signalling major reforms.Ms Eagle may need to learn that essential ministerial skill -- how to eat a hot potato very quickly, or push it quietly onto someone else's plate -- quicker than she thought.She welcomes the potential higher-profile such an issue brings: 'I don't think anyone in politics wants to keep their heads down.

I certainly don't flinch from controversy.'Her background as a solicitor is important to Ms Eagle's identity in another way too, as one of the few key differences marking her out from her identical twin sister -- Angela Eagle -- who is minister of state in the Home Office.Both women attended the same school, played chess to the same high standard, went to Oxford together, and are now both in government.

Ms Eagle says: 'Up until I did my law exams, I had always studied with my sister.

We had always revised together and worked in the same way.

It was the first time I did something that Angela hadn't also done.'Ms Eagle may prefer politics to being a lawyer, but she sees a common thread running through her career.

'Litigating for plaintiffs, you spend much of your time helping people out of problems.

I see my political role very much in this light, helping people out.

There is huge scope for this in my role as minister for the disabled, except it gives the opportunity to do it on more than just an individual basis.''I am not ambitious for myself.

That [helping other people] has always motivated me, both as a lawyer and as an MP.'But she admits that both she and her sister are 'very driven', and Ms Eagle plays the difficult questions with a straight bat.Which job in politics would she like best? 'They are all interesting -- they all make a difference to people's lives.'If her sister became prime minister, would she accept an offer to serve in her cabinet? 'That's a horribly hypothetical situation -- but I think Angela would make a great cabinet minister.'