To Walton-on-the-Naze with Tebbit for a busman-style holiday, albeit one in which the coach is being driven by a balding pensioner with psychopathic tendencies intent upon laying waste to Frinton-on-Sea. Still, what David ("the best all-round prime minister of the modern era" - the ludicrous Martin Kettle, the Guardian) wants David ("the winner of this season's political golden boot", ibid) gets, and I am despatched to a B&B in Essex to divine the mood of the right.

Norman is a man of routine, never more so than when on vacation. Breakfast is always grapefruit segments followed by a poached egg on toast. Lunch is always egg-and-cress sandwiches and an orange. Early supper is always a slice of melon, gammon with pineapple, two scoops of
ice cream and a half-carafe of house red. Frankly, I'd rather be in Abu Ghraib. In-between meals, if you can call them such, we take to the waters, Norm, in Speedos, striding into the North Sea until it laps against his kneecaps, before standing, arms crossed, and pontificating to anyone who stays within earshot.

“You're a bright man, Donald. Do you think the coalition will survive the referendum?" "No."

“I told you you were bright. Will your friend Cameron survive the ending of the coalition?" "Maybe."

“Maybe, indeed. It's not a question of who blinks first but what happens while both wimpish parties to the coalition are blinking simultaneously."

“And what might that be?"

“What if a Davis or a Hague were to seize the opportunity to kill them both stone dead and take the crown?" "It's possible."

“What if a Davis or a Hague were then to exploit the beneficial conditions created by the cuts to finish off the unions once and for all?" "It's possible."

“Might we not then be able to say that Margaret's work is done." "We might."

“Now, can I buy you a cone?"

An irresistible offer. Nor was it the only one I received last week, for as Norm was enjoying his post-lunch, pre-board-game snooze in the sunroom at the B&B the following text arrived: "Between us (pls protect), might DC need ex-GB hand to steady ship thru stormy waters. Third Man x"

To which I replied: "Between us (pls protect), it's possible. Long Leg x"

“Between us (pls protect), I know everything. Third Man x".

“Between us (pls protect), and yet, strangely, nothing. Silly Point x"

And then Norman woke up and signalled for the Cluedo.