It came on Saturday – effectively immediately – Boris Johnson resigned from his parliamentary seat of Uxbridge and South Ruislip, a Greater London constituency inside of the M25 motorway for those who need to know. It was on the front page of the Financial Times Weekend Supplement but – below the fold. Michael Heseltine, the former deputy Prime Minister under Margaret Thatcher (keep your friends close but your enemies even closer) described the move as “a brilliant coup de théâtre – and – it is … totally unprincipled and dishonest.” It is worth remembering that in 2019 just before Johnson became Prime Minister, Max Hastings, Johnson’s former editor at the Daily Telegraph, reportedly said: “There is room for debate about whether he is a scoundrel or a mere rogue, but not much about his moral bankruptcy, rooted in a contempt for truth.”

While his counterpart in America – across the increasingly bigger pond – struts out on stage once more – our home-blown blond – who has handed Kelly Jo Dodge, his hairdresser, an MBE, has had enough for the moment. In a dance of betrayal about not getting popped upstairs to the Ermine chamber of which I have quite lost the plot, two further Conservative MPs have also resigned their seats: Nadine Dorries from Mid Bedfordshire, and Nigel Adams from North Yorkshire. So geographically, the Conservative holes to be plugged are fairly evenly spread in England’s ‘green and pleasant land.’

When Rishi Sunak arrived back from his spin around Washington with Uncle Jo Biden, the political and geothermal heat had risen. Politically he now has three seats to fill in by-elections. Luckily the arrest on Sunday of the past First Minister of Scotland, Nicola Sturgeon – pulled in for questioning on financial misconduct by the Scottish National Party – proved a timely diversion. Whether one is in favour of Scottish independence or not – and though I can see their point I’m rather fond of Scotland – Sturgeon proved herself a first-class politician, even as she saw her party’s cause chipped away beyond her grasp. Looking back at Scotland’s history, Sturgeon joins Gordon Brown and the late John Smith as ministers that carried some visible moral backbone.

During the week that was, Prince Harry’s got himself in a right pickle – showing up a day late and leaving a day early for his court case against the Mail newspaper – not making the judge a happy fellow – and though Prince Harry has a point about journalists seeking him out for fodder, he is out of his minor royal depth as to how to fix it. He has returned to California and journalists are all busy taking a good bite of the political backside of the British Parliament. And for that, we can be grateful. 

At the beginning of this month, there was an event on the other side of town. Cadogan Hall looks like an old church and is tucked away just off Sloane Square. It is where the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra calls home. Two high-profile journalists for The Guardian Newspaper, Marina Hyde and Jonathan Freedland, would be in conversation to celebrate Hyde’s book launch of ‘What Just Happened!?’ Walter had bought the book and tickets. He was determined to see them in person and to ask his question. The book is a big one – and sits prominently on our table. It is easy to dip in and out of with its short article-sized chapters.

Marina Hyde now holds the lead position as “a thinking man’s crumpet”, an English expression first used in the 1960s to describe Joan Bakewell when she appeared on the BBC2 late-night discussion programs. There have been other crumpets of course, smart as well as beautiful actresses, news and semi-smart presenters, the chef, and author Nigella Lawson, Nicola Sturgeon could even be considered as such. The oldest crumpet of the moment is Kirsty Wark with – thank goodness – her own quirky style and smart mind – she still holds our attention as the senior co-hostess of Newsnight. But for now, Marina Hyde takes the pretty position with her political journalism and she definitely has my husband’s attention. He is not alone and on entering the bar to the hall we see many more left-leaning types – mostly of a certain age. There are young men out on a date, “Would you like to come and hear Marina Hyde – I’ve got tickets?” But I’m not sure Marina is really the come-on that they hope she will be. She could be just too intimidating. Us oldies look at her and remember – we too have been a bit of crumpet in our day and now just smile, seeing husbands getting frisky. The conversation on stage was good – Marina seemed a bit nervous which was comforting and when it ended Jonathan opened up to questions from the audience along with some on his iPad. My husband’s hand popped up and down until he was called and could ask his Brexit question. “ With the referendum being so important why was it not a super majority vote?” There was applause for the question but sadly no real new answer. Walter has met his third Russian as in “When three Russians tell you you are drunk you might want to lie down.” The sickening truth is that the then Prime Minister, David Cameron, was so confident of winning he saw no reason to make the vote more than a simple majority. His arrogance began the spin that has taken this country into a downward spiral of decay. 

The war in Ukraine goes on, and both the Ukrainians and Russians know and are admitting this is not going to end easily. God is apparently on both sides. We see Putin holding up his latest Icon in gold, while Volodymyr Zelinskiy posts videos of captured Ukrainian soldiers being swapped home. Nope, this is not going well – God may be just too busy with wars all over the world along with global warming and the terrible mess we are creating on our planet.

This evening I pass a young Asian man and an older English lady trying to move a crippled gentleman down the last steps of his house and into a wheelchair on the street. It is dusk. I don’t know where they are going but they look a bit unbalanced – the man’s feet are caught up and twisted together. I stop, put down my basket and rest my thigh against the wheelchair. From behind I lean over the man and say “This old nurse is going to put her arms under yours and bring you back into the chair” and lift him safely into his seat. Our heads are close and a sweet smile breaks over his uncleaned teeth. He turns closer to me. ‘Thank you” he says and our eyes smile a secret together. I pick up my basket and don’t look back as I walk on home. 

While I write, a small storm flicked a little lightning and a thunderclap, caressing us with the sweet smell of summer rain across our deck. It was not enough to soak the potted plants – only for the leaves to cup and drink. 

At the age of 86 the past Prime Minister of Italy, Silvio Berlusconi has died. His life set out the playboy playbook that so many politicians read. It will take more than a little light rain to wash away the pages of his legacy found amidst the dry crevasses of corruption and decay in Westminster today.

This has been A Letter From A. Broad. Written and read for you by Muriel Murch.