I was minding my own business in a little shop on Saturday when my heart jumped out of my mouth and my soul exited through my ears: someone’s ringtone was the same music as my old “wake-up” alarm.
When I worked in Downing Street, that same noise went off every morning at 5.15am, brisk, cheerful and soul destroying. The moment I heard that awful sound, I glimpsed the ghost of government past, right there next to the fudge and fridge magnets.
