I never find out how he’s going to fob me off, because Todd leans towards his microphone and says, with a sly grin, ‘If I may, Neville, I think I’ll take this.’

Tudor stares at him, astonished.

‘I’ve been thinking about this,’ says Todd, with a smirk. ‘It’s complicated. But there is a strong case for abolishing the tax credit and putting that money into the NHS. In fact, I can’t understand why the government hasn’t done it already.’

He ignores the daggers from Tudor.

‘Does that answer your question, Gil?’ Todd has that knack, when he speaks, of making you feel he’s sharing an important confidence.

I nod. I’m wearing an embarrassed smile, not immune to his charm.

*

‘Erm, that’s a story,’ says Scott, as the leaders leave the stage and the journalists file out. ‘Labour stealing a Tory idea.’

‘Is that how you’ll play it?’ Scott’s paper, the Sentinel, is the only left-wing broadsheet and is in two minds about Todd’s ‘modernisation’ of Labour. Its leader writers’ conferences are a microcosm of the debate within the party about whether Todd is selling out too much.

‘We prefer Labour governments to come up with their own ideas.’

‘But what if an idea dreamed up by a Tory government is just a good idea?’

He scowls. I head out of the auditorium, musing whether Lorimer will let me write about the tax credit this time.

I look around in case Marilyn is near, so that I can double check the weight of what Todd just said. I haven’t spoken to her since that embarrassing phone call in the early hours. Also I really want that interview with Todd and am worried my neediness may have pissed her off.

‘Did Todd’s people put you up to that?’ someone hisses behind me. I’ve come out into the Millbank lobby, and a tall, athletic brunette blocks my exit. I’d have more chance getting past William ‘The Refrigerator’ Perry to score a touchdown.

‘Hello, Jane.’

Jane Walters is the Shadow Chancellor’s economic adviser and licensed destroyer. She’s there to jealously guard Tudor’s turf – economic and tax policy – and keep Todd well clear of it. Tudor and Todd have a relationship based on mutual advantage and chronic mistrust. He’s the older by fifteen years, and when Todd became leader, three years earlier, he abandoned dreams of becoming PM. But Tudor will never be Todd’s cipher, and he’s surrounded by a clique of true believers, led by Jane, who still see him as the king across the water. For them, every interaction between Todd and Tudor has a winner and a loser.

She shepherds me to the side of the lobby, away from the throng, and backs me against the wall.

‘What was that about?’

‘What do –’

‘Your clever little pensions question. Did your girlfriend put you up to it?’

‘Sorry?’