The wine stains had finally been scrubbed off the walls of No 10. The puke-splattered bins had been thrown in the skip. The carpets had been steam cleaned. The last of the stragglers had been ushered out of the back door, away from the intrusive CCTV cameras.
Boris Johnson had fought off a hangover to stumble downstairs to thank the little people for all the work they had done. Though really it was an opportunity for the cleaners to apologise to Boris. The Special One. The Holy Man. They couldn’t believe how badly he had been let down by his staff and wanted to say sorry for being so slow to clear up the mess. Or that’s how Boris heard it.
