We Hardly Know Each Other

This morning I am forced to issue a denial at the expense of causing pain and anguish to many people. I am sorry that things have come to this state, but the circumstances were not of my choosing. With the fresh blood of Thicko Watson still in their nostrils, the Tory press dogs have been savaging their way around the MP's friends and acquaintances and they've settled on me. Not a case of "pigs at troughs", this time, but "rabbits in holes".

There's a completely innocent explanation for it all, of course. But I've been warned that something shocking may be splashed across the media in the next 48 hours, so at the risk of seriously upsetting my lovely wife Linda and my son being taunted in nursery school, I thought it best to lay everything out on the table right now.

Along with the fame and glory that follows from being one of Britain's leading political bloggers, a brilliant public speaker and a strikingly handsome man at the pinnacle of physical condition, comes responsibility. Not least the responsibility to resist the attentions of young impressionable people who may be less able to control their emotional urges. In this case, as the young lady in question is a year or two older than me and holds a post as Professor of Political Science, it never occurred to me that her attentions were anything other than professional.

There were plenty of clues, of course, but that's much easier to see with hindsight.

The fact that Rachel had died her natural dark hair such a striking auburn colour should have alerted me when I first saw her in the conference audience while delivering my presentation. And perhaps I should have spotted the trembling drawl in that sexy Texan voice as she asked me a question about party fragmentation and blogs as threats to our current 'responsible' party political system.

But the truth is that I never spotted the tell-tale signs until it was too late.

When she emailed me, saying: "I hope that there will be another chance for our paths to cross at some point in the future - I am actually down in London for another event next week", I was quick to agree. Having spotted that the event was organised by event managers Bearhunt, I laughed at the prospect of the local environmentalists getting their knickers in a twist as I went bear hunting. So much so that I completely failed to notice that Rachel had got her own kickers in an even bigger twist and was attempting to engage my YouTube and transform me through social networking.

In anticipation of our date, I had a quick browse on the internet last night to discover more about this exciting young woman who had come into my political life. And that was when the full romantic truth suddenly hit me, including the ginger fetishism aspect.

I shall, of course be declining the offer. All I want to add at this stage is that - whatever the newspapers may allege in the coming days - absolutely nothing happened in Birmingham after the conference, I love my wife very deeply and I have never worn a Moosejaw T-shirt in my life.