A pale, watery sun crept through the window. Autumn was nearly here. About time, thought Rishi Sunak. The summer had been a total disaster. He’d tried to take charge of the media grid but had been rewarded with one bad headline after another. He’d have been better off doing nothing at all and giving himself and the country a break.
This last week had been no exception. It had started with Nadine Dorries’s resignation. About time but he hadn’t banked on an 1,800-word letter slagging him off in the Mail on Sunday. She’d even taken a pop at his shoes. What was wrong with them? Didn’t everyone shop at Prada? In hindsight he’d badly misjudged the extent of her crush on Boris. The woman was totally besotted. Dazzled by his lies. Then there was her entitlement. Somehow expecting a peerage for being a crap MP and a worse culture secretary. Maybe he should have just put her in the Lords and have done with it. Just to get her off his back.
