For a moment there, I thought we were in trouble … but, phew, everybody, panic’s over. John Bolton, Her Britannic Majesty’s government’s new bestie, has popped over from Washington to promise a quick and bounteous bit-by-bit US trade deal. So put the diazepam back in the medicine chest and chill out. Everything’s coming up roses after all.

I hesitate to ask this, not wishing to undermine the cheery tone and be a right Debbie Downer, but would anyone within several post codes of their own senses really want this horror for a BFF, or come to that for a distant acquaintance?