Poor old Rishi Sunak. You would have to have the proverbial heart of stone not to feel, at least, a bat-squeak of pity for the man at this stage. First there was that poignant press conference in the rain, then the D-day kerfuffle, the flock of sheep in Devon who snubbed him when he tried to feed them, the series of ill-advised visits to chocolate teapot factories and pubs called things like ‘The Last Chance Saloon’, and now this…
It’s not a huge amount to take in exchange for humiliating your colleagues and trashing your party’s chance of winning an election
You can imagine his bewilderment, his despairing incredulity, as he discovered that the headlines for the last week of his campaign were to be dominated not by the good news about inflation but by the slow-burning story of one, two, three, four (and possibly more) of his people being accused of taking out hooky bets on the election date.
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