What Tony Blair really needs is a stiff drink

By the time Parliament rises for the Christmas recess, the Prime Minister will have endured 18 consecutive days without a day off. This stretch embraces two uncomfortable working weekends, the first of them to the fly-blown Nigerian capital of Abuja for the Commonwealth conference, an event made more fractious than usual by the Zimbabwe squabble.

The Prime Minister left Abuja before the conference finished in order to return to a family funeral in Scotland. The hazards of this complicated journey included a 3.15-am arrival at Glasgow airport. Then it was back to London and the Downing Street reception for the all-conquering England rugby XV. This event was notable for the sharp contrast between Tony Blair’s prima-donna style of politics and rugby football, emphatically a team game. Downing Street suggestions that the Prime Minister should pose alone with Jonny Wilkinson were reportedly rebuffed by the RFU, which preferred that he should be photographed with all the players or none at all.

This weekend the strain gets worse as Tony Blair flies to Brussels for the Constitutional convention. The Prime Minister makes no secret of the fact that he hates these European marathons, yet there are signs that he will be obliged to endure no fewer than five days of grinding negotiation. No wonder he is so dreadfully tired and ill. I was recently studying television footage of Tony Blair signing the Good Friday agreement four years ago. He looked vital, dynamic, confident, had almost a full head of hair. It is shocking to contemplate the physical change that has come over the Prime Minister since. He has lost weight, and the skin hangs loosely about his neck. Rather mysteriously, for a man who spends most of his life indoors, he has what at first sight looks like a healthy tan. Closer examination detects an unhealthy yellow underneath the bronzed skin.