Monday
Forty-one per cent! Would be nice to celebrate, but of course we know this is out of the question. Mr Maude is in bad enough mood already, since his attempt at optimism went so badly wrong at Spring Conference. He’d been practising sounding ‘noncommittally cheerful’ all week with our Wellbeing Guru, Sherwood. Before he went on they were backstage together blowing out their cheeks and shaking their limbs loose, the Frankster repeating, ‘I really believe we can win!’ and doing his special tantric smiling exercises. But when it came to the optimistic bit of his speech he just froze, and couldn’t get the words out. Ended up looking as if had been cryogenically frozen. Sherwood was weeping even more openly than usual. As he pointed out, it was a complete waste of a pink flower backdrop. Apart from that, a great conference. Everyone got horribly drunk on Saturday night. I’m told I marched down Nottingham High Street wearing a St Patrick’s Day hat (v inclusive). Nigel says I don’t have to accept every drink Jed offers me, but I don’t think this can be right. Surely is better to risk dying of alcohol poisoning than offend Director of Strategy and holder of key to my future, and, for that matter, future of party and whole country!? Mummy agrees. Says I should go with my instincts on these matters and drink up. Chin chin!
Tuesday
Amazed to see the Battle of Dave’s Hair still raging. This has surpassed all our expectations and just goes to show that you should never underestimate the power of a distraction briefing. Who would have thought last week when we were forced to act to take the pressure off green taxes that the papers would still be full of ‘Parting-gate’ four days later? But with skilful management of news and Dave’s barnet we have achieved it.
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