Yet Falconer is undoubtedly a member of the select band that Conservative Central Office likes to call "Tony's Cronies", and he has risen fast since one of his friends became prime minister on May 1 1997.
There are those who say that Falconer is now one of the most important people in government. One of the top three? Not yet. Top 10? Maybe. Top 17, definitely - though he was not named in Derek Draper's notorious boast. In politics, access is power and Falconer has it.
He even sits at Peter Mandelson's old desk at the Cabinet Office. And while Dr Jack Cunningham is the Cabinet Office's official 'Enforcer' - there to soothe the Today programme and persuade cabinet colleagues to stick to New Labour's priorities - it is Falconer who does the graft of the job. "Jack's a nine-to-five man," says a colleague. Jack doesn't like the Enforcer title and didn't get his brief in writing. So Falconer resolves the policy problems, devours the paperwork, picks holes in arguments, synthesises conflicts.
Lord Falconer of Thornton, as he quickly became in May 1997, is that rare thing in politics, a genuine friend of the PM. He is crony to the core - except in the Collins sense that he is unsuitable for office. Barring the little matter of his being an unelected peer, he is very suitable, a workhorse whom Blair trusts. "Charlie's lovely and he's a serious player," one of Whitehall's sharpest punters declared last night.
But how serious? As 1999 claims its first political scalp, the unruly mop that belongs to another Charlie - Gordon Brown's man, Charlie Whelan - Lord Falconer moves closer to the centre of the stage. Downing Street yesterday confirmed what many people missed in the pre-Christmas drama, that he will take over the Government's 'golden share' in the New Millennium Experience Company (NMEC).
It may amount to being passed a Paraquat-filled chalice. The Culture Secretary, Chris Smith, will speak on Dome matters in the Commons and has theoretical responsibility, having previously been responsible for other millennium matters. It is a demarcation inherited from Mr Mandelson's days as Minister without Portfolio ("Minister Between Portfolios" as Gordon Brown once joked). But Falconer's possession of the golden share means he is expected to replace Mandelson as the driving force behind the Dome.
That means a public role as its Mandelsonian cheerleader, as well as being the minister who sits on the committee and asks the NMEC's well-paid executives the awkward questions that non-executive directors are supposed to ask on company boards. He will have to wear hard hats and inspect the site.
Although much of the detailed work has been done on the Dome, there remain many gaps and doubts, not least over whether the Jubilee line link will be completed by the end of the year. But a source involved with the Dome said: "You can't blame him if it all goes wrong. You can't expect him to turn it round in 11 months. The blame will rest with Heseltine and Mandelson." It is a sudden rise in profile for a man who, 20 months ago, was beavering away in the High Court. How did this metamorphosis come about? Labour prime ministers have a weakness for friendly business tycoons, as well as for intellectuals: Ramsay MacDonald took a free car from a biscuit manufacturer; Harold Wilson gave Jimmy Goldsmith a knighthood.
But lawyer Blair also likes to bring in lawyers. Lord Falconer has risen from obscurity to become a key player in the Blair goverment partly because - as a struggling barrister - he once shared a London flat with the future Prime Minister, whom he first met at school.
Legend has it that Blair - by then working in the chambers of Lord Derry Irvine along with his future wife, Cherie - used to lecture his laid-back chum about the necessity of hard work in one's twenties. Going to bed one night, Falconer found Blair in his bathroom in a suit - at 3am. The future PM had wrongly set his alarm clock.
Like all premiers, Blair likes to be among people he feels comfortable with, and his preferred milieu, to the dismay of some of his supporters, is that of the lawyer (both Falconer's and Blair's wives are high-flying barristers, too). But Falconer's rise is also because he is regarded by colleagues as extremely bright. "Smarter even that Derry Irvine", opines one minister. "He gets to the heart of a problem very quickly," says another. "He does not bother with rubbish. He is not encumbered by the ideological baggage that the rest of us have." He was given access to the Government's strategic overview by Blair, who appointed him to 14 cabinet sub-committees, where many of the key Government decisions are made. Lord Irvine has more, but also has other duties, not least Lords reform and being nice to Lord Cranborne. Falconer is Blair's eyes and ears in committee. "Derry is his father figure, Charlie is his brother." The comparison with Mandelson, also an intimate, if only for a decade, is instructive, but it can be overdone. Falconer has only been heavily involved in politics since May 1997, whereas Mandelson, a child of the Labour movement since birth, was at the heart of Labour battles since the mid-1980s, helping Neil Kinnock refashion the party. Mandelson, in spite of his reputation as a spin-doctor working in the shadows, enjoyed being at the centre of media attention; Falconer shuns it.
Lord Falconer did try to get selected for a seat in the run-up to the general election, which would have given him a legitimacy in politics. The sitting MP in Dudley East, Dr John Gilbert, had been squared the old-fashioned way: he was promised a peerage and the job of minister for defence procurement (at 70!).
Gilbert got both. Charlie the political novice didn't get his seat, though Professor Ross Cranston, another Blairite lawyer, now Solicitor General, did: he is MP for what is now Dudley North instead. Falconer had been forced to withdraw his name after being pressed by members of the selection panel in no-nonsense Dudley over sending his four children to private schools. He insisted he would continue to do so if elected, even though it was contrary to party policy.
When Blair became Prime Minister he brought Falconer into the Government anyway, making him solicitor-general. It was a relatively quiet post, though arrangements were quietly made to allow the number two in the Attorney General's office to do some of the spadework for the veteran number one, John Morris (almost as old as Lord Gilbert).
"Charlie's really the man," people started saying. It happened again when the reshuffle came in July. He was quickly noticed when he joined the Cabinet Office, the contrast being made with Mandelson. "Peter kept himself to himself. Charlie is more gregarious. He is informal - his shirt hangs out, his tie is askew, he's a bit of a wreck." He is jovial, full of anecdotes, keen on laughter - a useful mechanism for disarming journalists full of questions.
And MPs from the rougher end of the trade tend to like him as they do not like all colleagues parachuted into office via the House of Lords. One such is Peter Kilfoyle, the Cabinet Office minister, brought up in working-class Liverpool and schooled in the hard politics of fights with Militant.
Kilfoyle is an unlikely admirer of the public-school educated barrister reputed to be making half a million a year from the law before joining the Government. Yet he says: "[Falconer is] one of sharpest men I have known. He thinks quicker than most people. He is also an extremely amicable person. He has no side to him, regardless of his station in life, from the messenger to the senior civil servant. He is extremely likeable." Typically, Falconer retains a vast knowledge of pop music and trivia, just the sort of thing that would endear him to the Beatles-mad Kilfoyle. Those who know him well say he can give the name of the backing group, producer, and other details of top 20 singles since the 1960s.
He also remains Old Labour in his fondness for grub. The Blairs may nibble salad and designer water, but Falconer is still a claret and sticky puddings man, bespectacled and burly to prove it. No jogging in the Notting Hill dawn for Charlie.
And, although he lives in London, Falconer remains very much a Scot, making frequent trips up north to his home town, Edinburgh, and to a rented retreat north of Inverness. He was educated in Scotland, but went south to Cambridge for his higher education.
He met Blair at school, Fettes, 'Scotland's Eton' and one of the grandest private schools in the UK, but the two were not soulmates. The story goes that Falconer had a crush on Blair's sixth-year girlfriend, Amanda Mackenzie-Stuart.
Teenage rivalry over a girl is a bond which can make or break a friendship. This one was definitely made.
