Baron Cashcroft arrives in town anxious to discover the return on his considerable investment in the Tory party. Dave sends
me to the Connaught to defuse the situation.

The good news is that the baron is no longer dieting. The bad news is that, in something of a throwback to the Seventies, he has turned into one of these people who can't stomach Old Etonians - which places me in a delicate situation.

“No spine. All smarm and oil. No guts," says the baron.

“The line-caught calamari?"

“No, fool. Your mob."

“I couldn't agree more."

“Sorry . . ."

“When you've spent as much time among them as I, let me tell you, my lord, you long for a bit of self-made grit."

“What I long for, let me tell you, pally, is a bit of recognition."

“I was coming on to that . . ."

“In excess of ten million pounds and further from power than Danny Alexander. That doesn't add up."

“It must be galling."

“I don't care whether it's galling or not. But I do care that it makes me look a fucking idiot," says the baron, spearing an oyster from my plate.

“What I don't understand is why we did a deal with the Liberal Democrats," he continues while masticating my oyster.

“Cameron bottled it."

“Oh, I hate Liberal fucking Democrats," he says, now chewing noisily on his own black ball of duck foie gras. "With my money and a new leader we'd have walked the rematch this autumn."

“I told Dave as much - except the bit about the new leader - but he was smitten with Nick . . ."

“Idiot. Obviously, I am going to write and publish a book about it . . ."

“A sequel to Smell the Coffee: a Wake-Up Call for the Conservative Party?" I ask, expertly guarding with knife and fork my own black ball
of duck foie gras.

“Yeah, but with more vim and more vision."

“Have you a title?"

“Waiter, can we have another load of starters?" he shouts to a distant minion. "I was toying with What's for Lunch? Another Wake-Up Call for the Conservative Party."

“I can see where you're going there."

“That said, I might just say sod the lot of you and go and join Farage. He's a bit unreliable, but at least his heart's in the right place."

“Please, don't do that."

“If you're going to keep toying with that ball I might as well have it."

“Be my guest."