Cold War collation

I know an immensely grand aristocratic lady, impeccably mannered, with a regal grace and presence, who cannot be trusted near a tin of caviar. Apart from scoffing far more than her share, she will eventually make off with the tin itself, to lick it clean. Those of us from lesser social milieux should not only treat this as a lesson in etiquette. There are sound environmental arguments for her behaviour. Caviar is so precious, so rare, that it is an ecological crime to waste a single egg. When her ladyship is on the prowl, there is no danger of that.

Such thoughts came to me over the weekend, while musing on large themes over a small tin. It brought back memories and also made one think about the unforeseen consequences of political change. In the early 1990s, I sometimes travelled to eastern Europe with Julian Amery, a wonderful mentor. Largely because he was born in the wrong era, Julian was unlucky in his British political career.