And ours.

My children's shoes depend on, now, having a madman suggest... you know.

But do your children need two shoes each?

He is not getting anywhere near my fucking pantry, I'll tell you that.

That door is staying as open as a fat whore's bone hole.

Sorry I'm late, the traffic was an absolute bitch, no offence, Robyn.

How about the 8.30? How did that go?

Very quick, in and out. Right, did you quiz him about the reshuffle?

Um, I didn't get a chance.

I did ask you specifically to do that...

Hugh, I apologise, entirely my fault. Er, Robyn give me a printout and let me have a look at it.

So Question Time up the swanee... Yeah. What the fuck d'you have to do to get on TV?

Have sex with a pig, soil yourself? I don't know the minimum requirements are any more.

Terri. Hi, how's it going? 'He's gone Hugh.' Oh, dear.

Oh, I am so sorry, Terri, I really am.

That's, that's really... That's just, blimey.

OK? You OK now?

SOBBING

Yeah, yep.

Listen, what I was calling about, we'll forget, forget about that.

There's no need to talk about that now.

'OK.' Right, because Question Time has bitten the dust and I was just going to,

ask you if you could ring around some of your broadsheet contacts and, um,

make absolutely sure that they're all coming to my party tonight.

I just wanted to take the opportunity of saying I really am sorry that it got awkward with Hugh.

I don't like lying to the minister, I really don't.

Yes, I do understand all this sneaking about, you know,

make people think we're having an affair.

Or something. You're joking? Well...

They think we're having an affair?

Well.

God!

It's a grave matter isn't it?

Yeah. Not a good day to bury bad news.

No. Oh, fuck!

Julius, what a surprise.