This is typical! I go away for some winter sun in the Canaries with Mummy and come back to find Labour on course to form the next government! One week I was out of the office — one week! — and it’s all gone pear-shaped, or tits up, as Jed is saying. It’s obviously Poppy’s fault, and Mr Grayling’s, double obviously. You can’t blame Dave. I would never have allowed that drowned-rat jogging picture ahead of his speech in Brighton. The British people will stand for many things, but a leader with rain dripping off his nose is not one of them. Ah well, it’s too late now. Better get stuck into putting things right. Have been ordered by Nigel to brief that we ‘couldn’t be more delighted’ that Lord A has finally revealed he is a non-dom. Apparently the revelation that our deputy chairman is dodging millions of pounds of tax is just the boost we needed.
It gets worse. Tom just spent an hour explaining to me why we won’t win even if we are two points ahead in the opinion polls. Why wasn’t I told earlier about this scandal involving a thoroughly corrupt system called ‘first past the post’? Everyone v tense. Terrible row between Gary and Mr Maude with Gary screaming: ‘I suppose you’re happy now!’ Mr Maude was giggling in a weird, hysterical way. ‘I told you, I tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t have it. Oh no, you had to have your damned Delivery Unit. We should never have done it! We should never have prepared for g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g-g…’ I assume he was trying to say government. But Gary shoved him aside and shouted ‘Out of my way’. So I gave Mr M the number for the anti-bullying helpline I’ve been calling.