I suppose I’ll have to declare an interest. Churchill’s wasn’t the first name that caught my eye as I flicked through the book. In fact it was, well, all right, mine, sitting beneath some heartless and unjust slur about Gordon Brown looking like a bad-tempered wardrobe in a suit. Of course I’m not so repulsively egotistical as to have immediately scoured the book for any other lines taken from my parliamentary sketches. (There were 15. Precisely 15. I checked twice, cackling maniacally. As none of my colleagues were in the office that early, on their behalf I kicked myself down the nearest flight of stairs.)