There were only half a dozen sheep in Harrow and I needed to find them in a hurry. It was going to be nip and tuck, but I knew that I had only myself to blame. If I’d been properly organised and thought about the sheep earlier, I wouldn’t be having to scramble around now.
It was the spring of 2001 and William Hague had got out of bed one morning with an idea. Everyone thought Tony Blair would hold the election in May, but what would happen if he moved early? The guy might go for an April election. He was miles ahead, so why not? And if he did, what a bunch of idiots we would look. We didn’t even have the manifesto finished.
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