For the moment, I stay. No reason you should care, but here’s the story of the Conservative Party and me. I joined the Tories 50 years ago this September. Not CUCA (Cambridge University Conservative Association) which was all public-school boys, soft focus, sharp elbows and dry sherry. Arriving from Africa I found the British class system weird and repellent, and still do; so I joined something called PEST (Pressure for Economic and Social Toryism), a sort of centre-left Conservative ginger group led by a chap in a white polo-neck sweater.

He came and went. Tory leaders and prime ministers came and went. I was impressed by some, depressed by others. In and out of government the party swung somewhat left, somewhat right, then somewhat left