Mindful drinking

When I was at school, some time before the last ice age, the final day of term was a quasi-holiday. There might be slide shows, and I remember my housemaster introducing me to Klee and Mondrian (I am still unconvinced about Mondrian). Today, it is all very different. I gather that once the exams are over, the brats are sent on trips or expeditions. The fear is that if they were confined to barracks, they would wreck the place.

The Tory high command (if there is one) clearly needs to consult a cunning modern schoolmaster. In the final days of the last term, Conservative MPs came close to sabotage and mutiny. Much the most formidable political machine of the past two centuries departed for the summer with all the dignity of an overturned ant hill.

Against that background, some Tories met. We live in a world of instability and doubt. Certainties — ethical, social, political, geopolitical — are all under threat. Then again, Tories have always taken a sceptical view of the human condition. Pessimism comes easily to us, especially in the form of eupeptic pessimism. Thus it was the other evening. But even amid the general crumbling, a few moral imperatives retain their power, especially the demands of friendship. One of our number had cases snorting in the seven sleepers’ den, or more accurately, lying snug in Berry Bros’ cellars. He thought it was time for an inspection and summoned three of us to help. We obeyed his call. He is successful in one of the more interesting parts of the City: the other two are historians.

We began with a wine which was also a battle-cry — Pol Roget’s Cuvée Winston Churchill 2004. The house of Polly Roger will not reveal its vignerons’ secrets, but this had Pinot Noir for structure plus Chardonnay for sweetness and delicacy.