7 APRIL 2007, Page 12

DIARY OF A NOTTING HILL NOBODY

MONDAY

Feel dreadful. Had horrendous nightmare last night. Was sleeping fitfully when a ghostly form appeared above my bed. He was tieless, wearing a white, open-necked shirt (possibly Paul Smith), the sleeves billowing as he held out his arms in a Messiah-like way. He had dark hair, pale, gleaming skin and deep, piercing eyes. At first I thought it was just Dave again. Then I realised — it was The Other Dave. He was calling out: ‘Come to me! I can! You can!’ Woke up in a sweat and couldn’t get back to sleep. Went out to give Sesame some hay at 3 a.m. She looked at me knowingly. Horses can tell when you are emotionally disturbed. Fell asleep in stable, woke late and had to call in sick. Spent day staring at unflattering pictures of Mr Miliband, and repeating to myself that he’s nothing like Dave (No. 1 mean), he’s not even in GQ’s Best Dressed Men, whereas Dave spent five hours doing photoshoot for front cover.

TUESDAY

When I got to office I realised that my sickie had dire career consequences. I missed out on the crucial selection battle for the Miliband Unit, codenamed Kill Mil Volume 2. (Kill Mil Vol. 1 was about finishing off Milburn, but that was handled by the Treasury, apparently.) Everyone had already been chosen. Needless to say, Poppy’s in, as is Wonky Tom from home affairs, and Boring James from the Treasury team. The unit is being divided into subgroups: Greenery, Haircut, Sam v. Louise, Sayings of Ralph Miliband, Brother Ed Confusion Strategy, and Full Monty Two Davids Coalition Plan for 2009 (don’t understand this one). But it looks as though I’m too late. Nigel said, ‘Not to worry, there are plenty of places left on the Gordon Unit.’ But isn’t that just about pensions? And who wants to dig up boring old dirt on boring old Gordo when you could delve into the far more interesting and glamorous life of Dave 2?! (Oh dear, I can feel a vision coming on. He’s nothing like Dave... He’s nothing like Dave... )

WEDNESDAY Big fight with Poppy over which attack unit is cooler. She argued, entirely bogusly, that the Brown Unit is totally pointless because she heard Jed say he doesn’t want to attack Gordon for much longer, anyway. He was on a conference call in his office when she went in to take him a seaweed booster juice. He was yelling into the squawkbox to ‘keep him alive for as long as possible, do whatever’s necessary, find me some figures, he must have done something right, don’t tell me it can’t be done, what do I hire you for!’ etc. etc. until he suddenly went red with an ideas rush (probably the seaweed) and had to terminate the call to write them all down on the whiteboard.

THURSDAY

Think have cured my little Miliband problem — suddenly had genius idea to go through all his statements on farming, countryside, hunting, etc. What a load of insulting old tosh. He’s basically a city boy and doesn’t know a thing about ponies. And there was I worrying that he could supplant Dave! I bet he couldn’t even tell which end of a horse to tie a nose bag to, as Daddy would say.

3 A.M.

Gah! Another figure above my bed. He had a beard and was quite fat — I think it may have been Charles Clarke. Am going to need a priest. tamzin.lightwater@spectator.co.uk