He shakes his head. ‘Look, I don’t want any of this written up. Or at least not now.’ He looks at Marilyn for approval, and she nods. ‘But I am happy to chat if for the time being this is all between us.’

I blow the air out between pursed lips. ‘Sure.’

‘What you’ve just said about taxes being too low,’ Todd continues, ‘is simplistic. Socialism worthy of the name isn’t a commitment to soaking the rich, it’s a commitment to lifting up the poor. My Labour – Modern Labour – believes in creating the conditions in which the economy can grow faster, expanding the size of the cake so that everyone can have more. That may even require some taxes to be cut.’

Again, Bernard Peck is in my head and I parrot him. ‘If the cake is getting bigger, and there’s no redistribution, no increase in taxes on the rich, then those who already have the most end up doing much better in pure cash terms than the poor. It’s simple arithmetic. What is the point of a Labour government if the gap between rich and poor widens? Are you saying that worsening inequality is a price worth paying?’

He looks hurt. ‘What you have to understand about me is that I am proud to be Labour. But some of my colleagues think that the only test of being a socialist is whether you want to put up taxes for the rich. I disagree. That’s posturing, socialism as narrow and tribal, as a badge on a donkey jacket. I want wealthy, successful people, who believe in social justice, to have a home in Labour. Of course, there might be times when we have to put up taxes on one group or another, and of course it’s fair to ask the rich to pay their fair share. But I don’t believe in increasing equality by penalising success and levelling down. What I want is a country of aspiration.’

He hasn’t answered.

‘Capitalism can be tamed and constrained to be a force for good,’ Marilyn supplies.

‘Exactly.’

I turn my eyes to Canary Wharf, those enormous financial factories with their blinking electronic ticker tapes that continuously update the price of money. ‘“It is a category error to think capitalism can ever have a conscience”.’ I recite.

Todd’s eyes narrow. ‘The Future of the Left, by Bernard Peck. That’s the opening line. The book that changed my life.’

‘Changed your life?’ I am flabbergasted. The Future of the Left is Dad’s most famous book. Written in 1972, it promotes a creed of democratic socialist state intervention that Todd has been working tirelessly to turn from articles of faith into heresy.

‘Of course. It’s the times that change, not the values we stand for. I only succeed if I acknowledge the debt to the great men who built our party.’