I was at a surprise birthday party for a member of the cabinet last week when a Conservative minister spotted me walking past and grabbed my arm.
‘You must do it,’ he said.
‘Do what?’
‘Become the Conservative candidate in Hammersmith. If all you manage to do is defeat Andy Slaughter and then spend the rest of your life on the backbenches you’ll still have achieved far more than most of us in politics. He’s ghastly, that man, -ghastly.’
This has been a common reaction to my disclosure in The Spectator that I’m thinking of embarking on a political career. Slaughter may have a majority of 3,549 but he’s far from universally loved.
‘I once commented that I would rather have my testes replaced with hornets’ nests than vote for Toby Young,’ wrote a commentator beneath last week’s column. ‘But the prospect of Andy Slaughter is even more unappealing.’
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