We’ve all been there. It’s a lovely summer’s day and you just want a bit of me time. A quiet lunch of champagne and oysters. As you do. Anything to get away from having to pretend you are interested in the people of Clacton. Hell, it’s bad enough being expected to actually visit Clacton – who in their right mind would want to do that? – let alone having to talk to the little people who live there.
So, you’re just minding your own business when who should turn up but two of your closest mates in politics – or contractors who you’ve barely heard of, as you prefer to call them – saying they have been having meetings with an American donor and his son who have already given you more than £30,000 for an opinion poll you have commissioned and now want to bung you another £500,000. And these guys would like to meet you.
