The turf: Robin Oakley tries to reconcile Henry Cecil with his biographer Brough Scott

The trouble with writing about people is their friends. Back when woolly mammoths roamed the earth and I was Crossbencher in the Sunday Express, I wrote admiringly about the burgeoning prospects of a young MP. He was of Dutch origin and I suggested that he might become the first Hollander to lead the British Labour party. A friend was drinking in Annie’s Bar in the Commons two days later and overheard another MP congratulate my subject. ‘Nice article about you in Crossbencher, Dick.’ ‘Yes,’ he replied, smiling modestly. ‘Don’t know what I did to deserve that.’ A little later in came another colleague. ‘Oh, Dick, I’m so sorry about that vicious piece about you in the Express.’ ‘Vicious? How do you mean?’ ‘Oh, don’t you see? The whole thing was got up to ruin your chances, pointing out to everybody that you are a foreigner.’ ‘Oh, my God, you’re right, what a sod that man Oakley is…’

I tell the story because broadcaster, author and former professional jockey Brough Scott has just written a brilliantly sensitive, balanced and authoritative book about top trainer Sir Henry Cecil only to have his subject condemn it publicly and refuse all co-operation.