Count your fingers @ No 10

There's yet another strange feeling here in No 10. Boy David has matured rather suddenly, in the last few weeks. He was, as you know, an inexperienced PR man before being catapulted into the hot seat. Of course, he had a head start being an old Etonian. Eton, so I'm reliably told by Arturo, prepares its boys to take charge of wherever or whatever position in which they may find themselves. This might be a large business, a bank, a casino or a manure heap! Not quite sure where Downing Street lies on that scale.

Anyway, the successes he achieved last week have somewhat changed the Boy David. He walks with more of a swagger. He looks less for approval from the eyes of others than was his wont. Wailing Lad Clegg is going to find that the going will be much tougher from now on. No more friendly pats on the back; no more nodding grins; all that is over! Now, it's strictly business not strictly come dancing.

How do I know all this, you ask? Well, I sat quietly in the corner, not even a flick of the jolly old tail, I may tell you! Why all this subterfuge? What was I observing? Well, I was watching one Andrew Rawnsley giving his opinion on the tele, with the aid of others, about the 'marriage' of convenience which is the Coalition. Very edifying it was too! Mr Cable looked suitably dismayed, yet disdainful! Mr Davies looked amused and above it all. Danny Alexander looked as if he didn't really know who he was or where he was. Boy David gave the impression he was next in line to the Queen. Wailing Lad came over as likeable but totally gormless. He resembled a child at the centre of a tall maze who cannot find the way out.

Where did I watch this programme? Why in one of the offices in No 10! Boy David wasn't watching but two flunkies were. Then, when it was all over, they laughed.

"Great life, if you don't weaken, eh?" The tall thin one said.

"Did you hear what that LibDem peer said about shaking hands with a Tory?" A rather florid looking chap asked.

"No."

"He said, if you shake hands with a Tory, you'd better count your fingers afterwards!" great guffaws of laughter!

"Oh! That is good, very good. I'll have to remember that."

Just then, I smelled fish coming from the kitchen, so I backed away and nipped down the corridor. But, I took the lesson. If a Tory Minister ever stoops to stroke me, I'll make sure my tail is still in place!