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Corbyn’s biggest cheer was when he promised music lessons for primary kids. The Second Coming it wasn’t.
You're never more than a few feet from a Johnson.
Every hack in town wrote accounts of the attack on Westminster, but I was intrepidly lunching a mile away with my Sky News editor.
My week, from babbling at Michael Gove to chatting Botox with Ed Balls and a trip to Stroke City.
In England, lit fests thrive, as Auberon Waugh once put it, because writers hate writing and readers hate reading.