Mark Reckless came twice to see me at my home in Downe, Kent. No lunch, no wine, just pots of tea, and we talked. The first time he came was before Douglas joined, but the second was after. By then, the campaign to put the frighteners on any Tory looking to join us was intense, Mark turned up in dark glasses and a baseball cap so that the neighbours wouldn’t recognise him. He was convinced that he was being followed, most likely by someone at Conservative central office. It was certainly our suspicion that everyone at Ukip HQ – from me to the press office to the strategists – had their mobiles tapped. Life had become quite surreal.