Diary – 5 May 2007

The telephone rang at 7.45 a.m. It was a journalist I know. She sounded tense. ‘Gyles,’ she said, ‘do you want to come out?’ ‘It’s a bit early, isn’t it, darling?’ I replied. ‘I mean, “come out”,’ she said with emphasis, adding, with a little laugh, ‘Everyone knows you’re gay.’ ‘Do they?’ I asked. ‘Am I?’ ‘Oh, come on,’ she persisted, ‘Frankie Howerd made a pass at you once, didn’t he?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘And you knew Ted Heath?’ ‘Er … yes.’ ‘Well?’ she said. I put the phone down. What is this bizarre obsession we have with the sexual orientation of others? Frankie Howerd was certainly promiscuous (and, oddly, in the habit of propositioning straight men — perhaps rejection was his bag?), but if anyone manages to turn up hard evidence that Ted Heath walked with a squeak, I’ll be surprised. Of course, if it does transpire that there was a touch of the Tommy-two-ways about our Ted, it just shows you what a truly modern Tory he was.